Miracle Walk (The Designed Love Series Book 2)

by Patricia Hoving

  She waved the notion away. “That man is nothing if not selfless. I’m sure his reasons for helping were more like a multilayered onion than a mere apple.” Jia leaned forward as if we were co-conspirators. “But what do you think of him? He is a tad older than you.”

  “I don’t think anything beyond the obvious that he is a good man and is quite handsome.”

  As though she could see into my thoughts she replied, “Then perhaps you should think a little harder and include Boaz in your prayers.”

  I stood and made my way over to the steps. “I’m going out to dinner with Naomi and should probably get dressed before it gets any later.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Okay, have fun then.”

  Over the next hour, I paced the floor, in front of my luggage trying to find something nice to wear. Periodically I would glance in Naomi’s conjoined bedroom and see that she was having a much better time of it. At least, Opal had thought enough to pack her some evening wear. I would end up having to piece together a blouse and skirt. I peered down at my choices. Lord, may this dinner with Boaz and his mother go fine tonight. I hadn’t felt this nervous about meeting someone since the day Kohen introduced me to his mother.

  Naomi came over and sat in the chair that she was sure had a groove in it from her butt. “As gorgeous as you look in your bra and panties it wouldn’t be proper to wear that to dinner. So perhaps you should put anything else on.”

  I blew out a gush of air and sat on the bed, settling on a red silk blouse. “I don’t think I like anything that I brought with me. Is it too late to ask Opal to deliver over my whole closet?”

  She muted the television and looked over at me. “What you’re wearing now is fine. Unless this is about much more in which case it might not be.”

  “Don’t start,” I said searching in the side pocket of my luggage for some pantyhose. “Jia already told me, conveniently, that Boaz is a widower and perhaps I should take a second look at him.”

  “Boaz is a strong man of faith from all accounts.” She bit down on her lip. “You know that you can remarry if you so choose.”

  I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. Even though I knew that I would never get married again. Kohen was the only man for me, and I lost him.

  13

  Boaz

  Dine On Grocery, our charming local grocery store, reminded me of all the trips I used to take with my father to the grocery store in Franklin Township. Although smaller then the one in Franklin its quaintness had grown on me. My father used to think going out of his way was justified when you could get better quality food, but there is nothing like walking into a place and having the people already know what you like and its ready for you. And I had to admit now as an adult that there was no difference in quality.

  Once upon a time, this had been my favorite place for the samples alone. I had actually picked up some helpful tips on cooking from here and how to do snacks correctly.

  “Thanks to you I have less than an hour to put this dinner together,” my mom announced as we walked into the grocery store. “You’re lucky that I have been looking forward to seeing Naomi since she arrived in town.”

  Vintage hand painted graphics on black wall tiles only added to the welcoming atmosphere that greeted us. The wooden fixtures a neutral background to the black and white color palette. Items on the bottom shelves housed in matching wooden baskets. The overall design of the place put my living room to shame.

  I went over and grabbed a cart, pushing it beside my mother. Not bothering to put too much weight in her complaints. She was the rare kind of woman that thrived under pressure. It was one of the things I had always appreciated about her and strived to be more of. Now I wondered if this really was too much and if we’d just end up ordering takeout pizza instead. We walked over to the vegetable aisle as my mind drifted off in excitement at the anticipation of our new house guests.

  What mother failed to realize was that I stepped outside my comfort zone even inviting them back to the house to begin with. Normally, I throw an end of the year Christmas party at my place and that’s the extent of my hospitality. Suggesting that we have dinner at my mother’s place had been a surprise even to myself. I pushed the cart down the pasta aisle as we picked up the main entree. Naomi had been such a staple in my childhood, but after the move, the connection had dwindled down to the occasional Christmas card, and I was busy growing up and getting married.

  “Have you considered what type of meat you want to serve at this thing? Something preferably quick. And no chicken I’ve worn myself out with that recently. Keeping in mind that I don’t want one dinner to break the bank.” Throwing a box of bow pasta in the cart before moving on to the sauce. It looked like from the ingredients alone that she was making my favorite Alfredo pasta. My mom certainly was not above spoiling her only child whenever she got the chance.

  “I’m paying for this dinner, mom.” I moved around the cart and picked up two jars of Alfredo that she couldn’t seem to reach. “And will get steak instead. That should be easy enough.” I nodded to a little lady who past us in the aisle. “I can even help you fry it.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Oh no, you won’t. I can do it just fine on my own.”

  My mother had never tasted my cooking, nor did she want too. I had never taken to cooking when I was still living with her. So most of my knowledge I had picked up elsewhere and regular trial and error. None of which she trusted. So she could frequently be found cooking me at least one meal a week to make sure I was getting my proper nourishment.

  She really was my backbone. If something were ever to happen to her. I mean if I lost her the way Naomi lost her husband. I’d truly be alone in the world. My stomach lurched at the thought. “I’m going to get the meat and I’ll meet you in the seasonings aisle.” She took the cart from me and nodded her head.

  I opted for a pack of seven thin cut steak and began to wonder if we should have some sort of bread as well. Some biscuits or garlic bread? I headed back to mom prepared to ask her when I caught sight of her talking to Mr. Bullock. The man whose dog was hurt during my opening day. I hung back just to listen in on their conversation. I wasn’t even aware that one knew the other.

  My mom picked up a bottle of seasoning from off the rack and turned back to the gentleman. “My son owns a great Veterinary Hospital, Bark Village. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

  “I have actually. It seems like the go-to place for German Village pet owners, but I prefer a place with higher quality safety standards.”

  “Which I can swear that it has.” She tightened her grip on the handle of the cart. “It performs all of the duties of a regular Vet Hospital, but its done with heart and love for all God’s creatures.” She patted the top of the dog’s head who looked a little worse for wear. “And he takes cares of humans too. Why just the other day a woman came from out of town needing work and he found a place for her in his establishment.”

  “I don’t see how that would help me.”

  “It speaks to the character of the place. It’s dependability.” She tugged her purse higher on her shoulder, seemingly she was uncomfortable with the man’s tone. “But you can take your dog wherever you like. I was merely stating as a concerned citizen that he looks like he needs a vet.”

  “Well thank you for the concern. You’ve made it clear for me what I’m going to do.”

  “Hey, mom—” I suddenly came out of hiding and made my presence known in the walkway. “Oh, it’s you,” I said examining his dog as best I could from my vantage point. “You do know that a terrible accident doesn’t have to be the end of your dog. If your facing some sort of hardship and can’t afford to pay the half-off. Come talk to me and will discuss what I can do for you pro bono.”

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  We gathered the rest of the list of ingredients that only seemed to be ingrained in my mothers head and headed to check out. I wanted to stop thinking about Jacobi and his labored breathing, but couldn’t. Why wasn
’t he getting that dog help? Should I maybe call animal control to check out the situation?

  * * *

  After what felt like hours, but had probably only been one, I entered the kitchen to the sound of steak sizzling in the pan. “I just received a call from Ruthie, they should be here any minute now.”

  The beep of the timer and went off and she reached for the oven mitts and pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. “That’s good.” She said placing the pan on the stove to cool down. “By a sheer miracle, we are right on time. Its been pretty nice cooking for four people again instead of just you and me.”

  I leaned on the doorway my earlier run-in with Mr. Bullock still on my mind. “Do you think I should call animal control?”

  “Honestly, him pretending not to have heard of Bark Village was troubling to me as well.” She frowned. “And the dog looked in dire straits. But let’s not assume the worse,” she said draining the water on the pasta and bringing back to the stove. “It could be as simple as he can’t afford to help him and calling animal control would only make things worse because he might lose his dog.”

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  “Reach out to him one more time and offer him a free vet visit. If he turns it down then call animal control.” Adding the sauce that she had tweaked with her own recipe. That’s the doorbell. Can you get that for me?”

  My heart jumped into my throat. Entering the hallway as if I didn’t know what was on the other side of the door. Instead of the woman that I knew most of my childhood and her daughter-in-law who worked for me.

  “Boaz, how long has it been?” Extending her arms out to me with a grin as I embraced her. The smile lit up her entire face. He caught sight of Ruthie out of the corner of his eye looking wide-eyed with surprise.

  “Long enough.” I laughed. “Our torture is over. You are back with family.”

  She released me and frowned. “It can never be the way it was before. We are both missing important pieces of the puzzle.” I stepped out of her grasp and Ruthie put her arms around Naomi’s shoulders and led her past me into the living room.

  My stomach churned. Was she referring to the loss of my father or my wife? Did she really think that I didn’t feel there absence as keenly as I feel the weather changing? It must’ve been the grief talking. If I put myself in Naomi’s shoes, seeing me might bring back memories of a different time. When my father and his cousin was still alive. That was long before Ruthie was ever thought of. I hope she didn’t feel slighted today by either of us. The last thing I would want is to feel like I wasn’t good enough because people kept wishing for a time before. I would be careful to be extra nice to her.

  I smiled and pointed to the coffee table. “There are pretzels and chip and dip to snack on, but dinner should be ready soon.”

  “Naomi, darling. Is that you?” My mom exclaimed as she came out of the kitchen, the sleeves of her top rolled up to her elbows.

  She smiled and got up from her seat on the couch to give her a hug. “Its Mara now.”

  Ruthie shook her head vehemently and made a cutting gesture under her throat. Mouthing the words don’t ask.”

  “Alright then Mara. Dinner is ready and will be eating in the dining room. Let me show you two,” she said lacing her hand through Mara’s. “Oh, Boaz will you take the tray of appetizers back into the kitchen.”

  “I’ll help, by stealing a few pretzels along the way.”

  Wanting to pick Ruthie’s brain about the Mara name change, I nodded. Without warning, she reached over on to the tray and fenced a few pretzels from the bowl. It was kind of cute. I placed the tray down on the kitchen island and put the salsa dip back in the fridge.

  “So why the name change or should I be asking Mara?” I turned facing Ruthie who was now eating the chips for dipping, plain. “Seems like an odd thing in this day and age.”

  “I suppose it is.” Ruthie straightened her shoulders. “She just wore up one day and decided that her old name of Naomi no longer fit her and needed something that fed her lost soul. So, Mara, it is.”

  I took a cue from her and stole one of the pretzels. “So its more of a spontaneous thing? That doesn’t sound like the Naomi I used to know.”

  Ruthie shook her head and smiled. “Sometimes she’s not the Naomi that I used to know. And I doubt that it was spontaneous. Maybe to me. She was probably mulling over this change for a long time. She doesn’t really talk to me anymore.”

  Her last statement was so full of pain that I couldn’t help, but reach out to her, rubbing soft circles into her back. The sounds of muffled voices coming from the dining room filled the kitchen.

  I stepped forward. “We better get in there, but don’t give up on Mara. Loss never gets easier, but it does get better.”

  “Some days I don’t believe that.”

  14

  Ruthie

  Dinner was over and I was stuffed. I even went back for seconds. Picking up my napkin and wiping a stain from off my skirt. “The fried steak was quite delicious, Ms. Traugott.”

  “Yeah great job, mom.”

  A quick look at Naomi’s plate proved that she felt the same way that I did. Her plate was picked clean. It was a surprise considering that she hadn’t been much of an eater.

  “Well, thank you both,” she replied, standing up and picking up her plate and Naomi’s. “I’ll collect everyone’s dishes and don’t you think about helping. You’re guests here.”

  Dishes began to clang in the kitchen. “So how do you like it here in German Village, Ruthie? It certainly doesn’t take long to see everything, not like Chicago I imagine.”

  She came back into the room and picked up my plate. “I love the cobblestone streets and charming single family homes. Admittedly it’s a little weird seeing all of the stores planted in the middle of quiet neighborhoods, but it makes the place cozier.”

  Boaz agreed and held out his plate for her to take. Murmuring, “I’ll do the dishes later.”

  “I don’t think I could live anywhere else. Even after my husband’s death and . . . our neighbors were part of the reason we were able to pull through. Everyone was so supportive and made sure we didn’t go without.” She took the plates inside and returned with four cups of coffee on a tray. Distributing them out to everyone. Before returning to her seat. “Its good that you made your way back to us, Mara.” Reaching her hand out and placing it on top of Naomi’s.

  “Its just sweet of Boaz to give Ruthie that job,” Naomi announced. Grabbing the cream and pouring it in her coffee, before passing it to me. “I immediately thought of when you were little and your innate caring nature when a cousin of yours on your mother’s side broke his leg, and how we used to joke and call you the redeemer. You insisted that it was your responsibility to make him feel better even though you weren’t even there.”

  I observed that Boaz seemed to like his coffee black with three sugars.

  “Oh, right they were outside playing on the swings I used to have out there, and Boaz came in for some lemonade. He kept coming in for a sip every five minutes,” my mom laughed.

  “He smiled at them both. “Well, I’ve done plenty since then.”

  Ms. Traugott nodded. “Right you have. After his wife died I thought all the joy and peace would be snatched right from his body, but he proved me wrong. Never too upset to pick up a call from one of our relatives in need of money for a bill they got behind on or just a listening ear to be pointed in the right direction.”

  Naomi looked at him, curiously. “What was she like?”

  “She had straight auburn hair, the color of fall after the leaves have changed. I still keep a picture of her in my living room. Perhaps, the next time we visit each other it will be at my place and I can show you then.” He smiled. “She hated animals and the only girl I ever met who played a pretty good game of soccer.” His fingers tapped against the mug in his hands. “We used to argue about the animal part because occasionally I may bring a hurt dog home to rehabilitate where I c
an keep a watchful eye on he or she, and it would like creep her out.” He took a sip from his drink, to quench his thirst or give himself time I couldn’t be sure. “I look forward to the day that I get to see her again and we can argue about dogs.”

  My heart ached for him at that moment. Anger at my husband seemed to boil to the surface sometimes and blind me. The scars seemed to be open, festering wounds. Still, I missed him, but if I thought about him too long then I would dissolve into tears. The bad memories overlapping the good ones, at least he could think about her and smile.

  “Would anyone like some cheesecake?” Ms. Traugott asked.

  Turning to see Boaz staring at me with a goofy grin on his face. “I may have been eavesdropping on one of those conversations you were having with Felicity where you mentioned being in love with cheesecake.”

  “I’ll help you with the plates and forks,” Naomi offered, following her friend into the kitchen.

  I cleared my throat. “Actually that’s very kind of you.”

  He shot a wink at me before turning back in the direction of the kitchen. “So you’re staying at the Bed and Breakfast right now? Any plans to change that to more permanent arrangements?”

  “Yes, of course,” I replied. “I’m not quite sure where to start and my first full check would help too.” I twirled the spoon in my drink. “Not that I’m blaming you or anything.”

  He shook his head. “Didn’t think you were. You just started the checks will start rolling in soon enough.”

  “Hey, no business talk at the table.” His mother exclaimed, placing a store bought cheesecake in the middle of the table.

  Boaz laughed. A gritty laugh that seemed to originate from the earth itself. “Good thing we weren’t talking business, but apartments.”

  Of course, it would be awkward to talk about that with my boss since he was the one paying me. I felt like I was walking a tightrope just trying not to offend him.

  Her eyes kept a strong hold on mine. “Oh, maybe I can help with that. I’m a real estate agent. Sort of a second hobby I picked up and I like to think I’m quite good at it.”