“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“See ya in fifteen.”
“I can hardly wait.”
She hung up the phone and strode to her room to grab some clothes before locking herself in the bathroom to freshen up. Dan confused her. The consummate gentleman was showing interest in her and, flirting? He didn’t do things like that unless it was intentional. She liked this side of her neighbor. He was definitely learning how to have some fun in life.
Maybe it was now her turn to try that fun thing too.
TWENTY-ONE
Love is our true destiny.
We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone—
we find it with another.
Thomas Merton
Dan hefted Meghan in his arms as they traversed the busy parking lot at the theater. Skye held Quinn’s hand and kept up with him. Dan paid for the tickets and stood in line for popcorn and soda. Not that the kids could really eat much after stuffing themselves with chocolate chip pancakes earlier. He wished Skye would have felt free enough to come to breakfast in her pajamas as well, but even he had changed into his jeans before they arrived.
“Dan?” Meghan asked as she settled into a chair in the theater.
“Yeah?” He inclined his head her way.
“You gonna be my daddy?”
Dan’s eyes shot to Skye’s. She was biting her lip. “You already have a daddy, sweetheart. No one can really take his place. Why do you ask?”
“Because I don’t like my daddy. He’s not nice to Mommy or us.”
“You’ve mentioned that before, but he’s not around right now,” Dan said.
Skye nodded in confirmation.
“He always comes back,” Meghan complained.
“Maybe you need to pray for him. I suspect he doesn’t know Jesus, does he?”
Quinn piped up, “He uses His name a lot, but I think that’s a bad thing.”
Dan nodded and let out a deep breath. “Possibly. Pray for him. Pray that he learns to love God and can be a better daddy.”
“But he’d live with Mommy again, right? I don’t want that. We like you better.” Meghan snuggled up to him and his heart melted.
“No one can predict the future. Pray that God gets a hold of his heart, and trust that God loves you and your mommy very much.”
“And you love us too.” Quinn grinned and nodded, full of confidence in his statement.
“Absolutely.” Dan watched Skye blush as he caught her gaze.
“Popcorn?” She offered the kids as the lights dimmed.
~*~
When the movie finished, Dan helped the kids pick up all their containers to toss. He escorted them out to the bathrooms and to the car for home.
“Thank you for taking us,” Skye shyly offered.
“My pleasure.”
Meghan twirled like a princess as Quinn reached to pick his nose.
“Stop that, Quinn,” Skye admonished.
“But Christoff said that’s what men do,” Quinn protested.
Dan chuckled but stopped when Skye shot a reproving glance his way. He sent a wink to Quinn.
Both kids drifted to sleep in the car. Dan carried Quinn up as Skye struggled to manage Meghan. He placed Quinn in bed, pulled off his shoes and coat, and tucked the little boy under the covers. He stood by as Skye finished with Meghan. They walked out of the room together and Dan assisted Skye in getting her coat off. Touching her briefly sent shockwaves to his soul. He pulled back and glanced away to see a fresh canvas painted with a close up of an eye.
His eye if he wasn’t mistaken.
He walked over to it as if in a daze. He studied the intricacies of the painting, the detail, and the emotion it conveyed. Shaking his head, he continued to stare. “How…?”
Skye came to stand beside him. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Your eyes are fascinating.”
“But it’s like you’re exposing my soul.”
Silence hung between them. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the painting. Naked. The sorrow and pain that he thought he’d buried, emerged full force as he gazed at the image before him. Skye’s gentle hand wiped away an escaping tear.
“I didn’t paint it to hurt you.”
He shook his head and stepped away. “Yeah…but it did anyway.” He hesitated a moment and reached for her hand, taking it in his. His thumb drew a small circle inside her wrist. He frowned but met her silvery eyes, softened with grief over the pain she’d unintentionally caused. “I guess it’s a testament to how good you really are.” He dropped her hand and walked out the door to his own apartment.
Tossing his coat aside, he slumped down in his favorite chair. A dark shadow hovered over his soul and he didn’t know how to shake it. Had Sharon ever understood him the way the artist across the hall did? All his carefully constructed defenses crumbled at the image she had captured with a brush, paint, and her imagination. God, how does she worm her way into my very soul like that? And what does it mean that she affects me so deeply? I long for her—to be with her, to be a part of her days and yes, even her nights. Lord, help me.
He slumped over in silent petition to the King for the agony in his soul. He finished, and finally wandered to the kitchen to pull out a can from the cupboard. Is this what he was reduced to? Canned soup for dinner? He shook his head and put the can back. He grabbed some brats out of the freezer and threw them in the microwave to thaw. Putting his coat back on, he headed to the porch and started up his grill. The heat was welcome. He put the lid down as the unit heated up inside. Nothing like the comfort of a good ol’ German bratwurst, as his father used to say.
Once the brats were cooking on the grill, he went inside to slice an onion and thaw some frozen buns he kept on hand. The rest he tossed in the fridge. He grabbed a bag of potato chips off the top of the fridge and opened it. Summer, football games, picnics…so many memories wrapped up in food.
He chuckled as he pulled the brats off the grill. It was the one food Sharon never enjoyed, so he only made them when she was gone. Now, he could have them whenever he wanted. And for all that, he still couldn’t eat apple pie. He closed up the grill, cutting off the fuel so that it would burn out quickly. He sat down at the table longing for a good German lager, but he gave up drinking any alcohol when he went into ministry, not wanting to risk being an unintentional stumbling block to anyone. Still, he could sure go for one right now. Ah, those lovely “principles” that Skye chided him for. He poured a glass of ice water and sat down to eat, thankful for food, a warm place to live and yes, even for a spunky red-head next door who saw too deeply into his soul.
He’d need to do something about her…
~*~
Skye stared at the painting after Dan left. Her own tears flowed freely. What good was art if it hurt someone? Or was Dan correct and she was so good that her paintings brought out deep emotions in the person viewing it?
A text came to her phone later that evening.
Can I take you out to dinner Friday night?
Dan. He wanted to actually date her? How long had it been since anyone had shown her any kind of attention like that? Too long. Her fingers got busy.
Yes. I would like that.
6:30 OK?
That will be fine.
Wonderful. Keep painting.
Keep painting? He would encourage her that way after the way she hurt him? She pulled the offending canvas off its stand and took it to her room. She placed it on the wall next to the other one of Dan. The one she’d never shown anyone. Not all art needed to be sold, did it?
She still had bills to pay though. Not selling her art meant not paying rent. Or having gas for her car. Lord, what am I to do?
~*~
Sunday morning rose bright, clear, and bitterly cold. She debated even trying to go to church. She longed be there though. To worship, to learn, to perhaps catch a glimpse of Dan in his element. She really did have it bad for this man.
The week dragged on. She caught glimpses of Dan at the YMCA,
but he either didn’t see her or was keeping his distance. She longed to sit down for a cup of coffee. See how he was doing. How badly had she wounded him?
She finally dragged out her phone. I’m such a chicken, she chided herself.
How is your week going?
His response was an hour later, making her wonder if he was angry with her.
Busy. Lots of meetings and counseling appointments. Looking forward to Friday night.
Me too.
Painting lots?
Some. Nothing spectacular.
Don’t be so critical. You’re an inspired artist.
Not if it hurts people.
Not all pain is bad, Skye. Sometimes we need to experience it to move past it.
I’m sorry I hurt you.
Forgiven, but you really have nothing to apologize for. Gotta go. Another appointment. Have a great afternoon.
You too.
She set the phone aside and headed back to her easel. Abandoning her paints, she decided to attempt something in charcoal. It wasn’t a medium she used often, but today seemed a good day to play with something different. The bleak winter outside called for expression on paper.
~*~
Friday was finally here and Dan dressed in a suit, forgoing the tie. He looked in the mirror, trying to see into his own eyes. Not an easy thing to do. What would Skye see in them tonight? Attraction? Desire…perhaps love?
What did he want her to see? He glanced away afraid of the answer. She obviously picked up on strong emotions and his moods better than even he did. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. He chuckled at the remembrance of how Andrew told him how Skye stood up to Amy. Scaring this petite spitfire would be the least of his worries. Letting temptation and desire overrule common sense? Now that was a legitimate concern. In many ways, he’d been a widower for far too long.
He hoped to rectify that soon.
He knocked on her door at six-thirty sharp and when she opened it he was stunned at the beauty before him. She had accentuated her sapphire blue dress with understated silver jewelry. A strand of twisted silver with no pendant and simple silver hoop earrings peeked out from her hair. He noticed a few weeks back that she stopped wearing the silver stud on her eyebrow and the small hoop on her lip. The effect was to give her a soft and almost exotic look rather than that of a…well, he couldn’t think of the word and it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Dan?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You stunned me. You look lovely, Skye.”
“I’m not too dressed up?”
“No. Perfect. We’re going to DeLuca’s Cucina. A friend from church owns the place. You do like Italian, right?”
“Who doesn’t?” She gave him a soft smile as he helped her with her coat. She pulled on her gloves and he escorted her down the stairs and out the door of the apartment complex into the frigid cold. “Where are the kids tonight?”
“My mom is having a sleepover at her house. She doesn’t do that often but when I mentioned our evening out, well she was more than thrilled to take them.”
Dan winked. “She likes me.”
“Yeah, well, so does her daughter. You’ve definitely gone out of your way to prove yourself the hero time and again.”
“I wasn’t trying to prove anything.”
“I know you weren’t. It’s just who you are, and I’m the grateful recipient of your care. We’ve upended your life.”
“Yes, but in the best possible way.”
“You call the flu a good thing?”
“Well, OK, that was miserable, but I’ve gotten the flu in the past just doing my job. It could have happened some other way than spending time with your children.”
“Quinn and Meghan were terribly disappointed to learn I was going to see you tonight and they were not invited.”
“I’ll have to make it up to them another time.” Dan was grateful she wore elegant black leather boots. As much as he would have liked to see her in strappy heels, at least her legs wouldn’t be too cold for the short time they were outside.
He shut the door once she was inside and came around to his door, sliding in with ease and starting it up. “I’m sorry it won’t get very warm before we get to the restaurant.”
“Totally understandable given the deep freeze Wisconsin seems to be stuck in this year.”
He thought he heard her teeth chatter. “We’ll be warm soon enough. I requested a spot near the fireplace.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
Once in the restaurant, he spied Stephanie.
“Dan. How good to see you.”
“Steph, I’d like for you to meet Skye. She’s a close friend of mine.”
Stephanie gave a broad smile. “’Bout time you developed some new friends, Dan. Skye, it is an honor to meet you. Dan performed my wedding to Roberto.”
“Roberto Rodriguez?”
“Yes, you know him?”
“He’s the attorney Dan referred me to.”
“Yup, that’s my man. Let’s get you seated by that fire.”
Dan held the chair out for Skye and when she was settled in, he sat in the chair adjacent.
After placing their orders, Skye leaned forward. “Are we OK, Dan? When we last talked, you were shaken up over that painting. I don’t plan to sell it. If you want, you can have it. I never wanted to hurt you. When I start a painting or drawing, I just let my brushes go. I don’t always know what it will be until it’s done.”
“We’re fine. I was shocked, that’s all. Seeing that painting triggered something inside me. I would say that’s the mark of a great artist. Whether a painting, song, or novel, when a piece strikes a chord like that, well, isn’t that what we want as creative people? To draw out the emotion, to connect with the audience? You definitely struck a nerve with me and it was unexpected and unsettling. You can sell it. Maybe others will connect with it as well. I wouldn’t deny you an income.”
She sipped her water, her silver eyes considering him. “OK. I’m not sure I’ll sell it, but we’ll see.”
“I am impressed that for not having me sit as a model, how detailed and precise your art can be.”
“I don’t understand that either. I never used to be able to paint like that. It’s like a switch was flipped a few months back and my art has gone to new levels.”
“I think God has made a lot of changes in your life recently.”
“And yours as well.”
Dan chuckled. “A few? He’s been doing a complete overhaul. Being forced off work and facing my grief and getting help in that process has been transforming. Having a feisty neighbor with two adorable kids hasn’t hurt either.”
“Feisty, huh?” She allowed the waitress to place the salad in front of her.
“Shall I pray?” Dan asked as he reached for her hand. Her eyes widened as he clasped it firmly and bent his head. “Heavenly Father, thank You for this food and precious time with Skye. May our time together honor You.”
Skye whispered a soft “amen.”
Dan nodded as he buttered his bread. “I’m glad God planted me across the hall from you.”
“I’m glad too, and the kids really do adore you, Dan.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“You would make a great father.”
A heaviness washed over him. He chewed his food slowly, willing tears to stay at bay. He swallowed hard and followed that with a sip of water. “It had been a fond dream.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached and placed a hand on his arm. Electricity shot straight to his heart. She jerked her hand back. Maybe she felt it too?
“It’s not your fault.”
Skye frowned. “No, but I should have known better than to bring up a painful subject.”
“I’m glad I can be a positive male role model for your kids.”
“You are. It’s one of the things that makes you an exceptional human being, Dan.”
“I’m not that special.”
“To the right girl you are m
ore than that. You are extraordinary.”
“Would that girl be you?” His eyes searched hers.
A soft blush highlighted her cheeks. “Maybe.”
Good. He dug into the meal.
“Dan?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you want for your future?”
“Whoa. If you would have asked me that two months ago, I would have said I didn’t want one. I seriously considered ditching ministry and running away. Finding some other job and startiing over. As if I could leave my pain behind.”
“It would have followed you.”
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
“What would you have done?”
“If I couldn’t be a pastor?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a great question. I never really found an answer to it. I’m sure I could do some corporate administrative work, since I do much of that within the church. Or go back to school and get a degree as a counselor and get certified. I do a lot of that as well. Or perhaps teach music, give lessons. I couldn’t find my heart beating faster at any of those prospects.”
“I’m glad you didn’t give up completely.”
“Depression sucks. I never would hurt myself, but it sure made it hard to get up in the morning and get through many days. I’m grateful I had a neighbor who didn’t let me stay in the hole I tried to dig.”
“Yeah, well, I’m glad you’ve been there for me too. It’s a mutual thing. Like God understood we needed each other.”
“We did. In some ways I think we still do.”
“Do we?” Skye quirked an eyebrow his way.
“Well, a little thing like you would have a hard time scraping the windows of your car.”
She giggled. “I always managed in the past.”
“But admit, it makes your life a little easier when you’re not wrangling two kids as well.”
“True, especially given how cold it’s been.”
“See? There’s proof. You need me.”
“Yes, you’re correct. But do you need me?”
He nodded and chewed his food. “More than you know.”
She tilted her head his way but didn’t press him further.
After dinner, he drove her home and escorted her to her door. She unlocked it and turned to face him. “Do your principles forbid you from entering my apartment without a chaperone?”
Bratwurst and Bridges Page 21
