For A Father's Love

by JoAnn A. Grote

  He missed those times.

  He forced his attention back to the present with an effort. “Driving back tonight, I passed Tom’s nativity with the spotlights on it. It’s striking out there on the mountain where everything else is dark.”

  “I haven’t seen it from the road yet.”

  Jason pushed himself away from the counter. “It’s already Sunday. I’d better get some shut-eye.”

  “Me too.” Mandy stretched her arms over her head, stifling a yawn, then let her arms fall back to her side.

  At her movement, the lights sparkled off something in her hair. “There’s a piece of gold tinsel in your hair.”

  She reached up. “Where?”

  “I’ll get it.” With his thick fingers, it was difficult to grab hold of the tinsel and not pull her hair. “It’s tangled. This might take a minute.”

  Her hair felt as soft as it looked. He could smell the gentle scent of a floral-based shampoo, although she must have washed her hair close to dawn, almost sixteen hours ago. He concentrated on the tinsel and tried to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened at her nearness.

  Don’t think about how good her hair smells, he commanded himself. Don’t think about how wonderful she’d feel in your arms. Don’t think how you want to press your lips to her hair and then her cheek and her lips.

  “I guess there’s worse things a person can wear than tinsel.” Mandy’s voice held a laugh. “Like maybe pink plastic earrings.”

  “I’ll find a way yet to get you back for the picture you took of me in that getup.”

  “And here I was sure you’d want to pass that picture down through the generations.”

  Jason looked down and met her teasing green-eyed glance, then dropped his gaze lower to where her lips quirked in a smile, deepening her dimples. Those lips looked too inviting. He kissed them—a light, quick kiss.

  When the kiss ended, he pulled back so their lips were only a breath apart. His heart hammered against his ribs. He heard her breath coming short and shallow. He looked into her eyes. At what he saw there, he kissed her again, drawing her close in his embrace. She came willingly, leaning against him.

  Her kiss was warm and wonderful. It felt exactly the same as her kisses in his memories and in his dreams.

  Seventeen

  Mandy leaned into Jason’s kiss. It was warm and wonderful. Exactly the same as his kisses in her memories and in her dreams.

  She relaxed against him as the kiss deepened, rejoicing in the gentle strength of his arms. It felt so right here, as though she’d never left his arms, as though the years she and Jason had spent apart had never happened. As though God created their arms to hold each other and their lips to kiss each other’s lips.

  The kiss became another kiss and another. And then Jason wrapped his arms more tightly about her, resting his cheek against her hair. His chest rose and fell in a deep sigh. “Mandy.”

  The word was a husky whisper, filled with reverence. Her cheek against his shoulder, she breathed a soft sigh of contentment.

  They stood together that way for many minutes, speaking to each other without words, heart-to-heart.

  Finally Jason moved to kiss her forehead. “I’d better go.”

  She nodded, too filled with emotions to speak.

  They walked to the door with their arms around each other. Beneath the silent brass bells, which announced all comings and goings, Mandy accepted a half-dozen more kisses and returned them in the age-old, lingering good-bye manner of lovers.

  When Jason finally left, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, still feeling Jason with her. Deep joy filled every cell of her heart. “Thank You, Lord.”

  ❧

  Not a trace of Jason’s earlier fatigue remained as he walked up the hill to the farmhouse through the crisp, pine-scented night air. His heart sang with the memory of Mandy’s kisses and the sweet, willing way she leaned into his arms. He still felt her there.

  When he climbed into bed, his mind continued reliving the wonderful minutes with her until reality pushed its ugly way into the memories.

  “What was I thinking?” he whispered.

  He planned to return to New York after New Year’s. Every day—except Thanksgiving—since he’d arrived back in North Carolina, Neal had called or e-mailed at least once. Not twenty-four hours went by without a problem involving a client or case about which Jason’s advice was sought.

  He’d made a commitment to the company. Made a commitment to his father. He’d worked hard to reach this respected place in his career. It would be foolish and irresponsible to throw it away. His father hadn’t raised an irresponsible son.

  It was a God-given gift, this time back in the mountains involved in the work he’d always loved, spending time with Gram and Gramps and Mandy. He cherished every minute of it. But he couldn’t chuck everything and move back here.

  And he couldn’t ask Mandy to move to New York with him.

  He loved her more now than eight years ago. He loved the woman she’d become. He smiled into the darkness, thinking of her independent spirit, the cheerful manner in which she made her way through life without allowing problems and challenges and disappointments to trample her, the way Christ’s love for others flowed so naturally from her.

  He and Mandy shared a love for the mountains. He’d missed them horribly during the years spent in New York pursuing his father’s dream for him. Eight years ago he’d asked Mandy to give up the mountains she loved for him. Now he knew he couldn’t ask anyone he loved to give up something she loved that much—even if Mandy were willing. And what indication did he have that she was any more willing now than when he’d asked her to marry him?

  He was jumping the proverbial gun, of course. Just because she returned his kisses tonight didn’t mean she still loved him. Mandy wasn’t the kind of woman who kissed a man unless she cared for him, but love—well, that might be a bit of a stretch.

  One thing he knew for certain: There could be no more kisses. There was no place for their relationship to go if they moved past friendship. The more time they spent in each other’s arms, the more painful the inevitable breakup.

  He’d explain to her tomorrow. He hated the thought. It would be easier to just avoid her, but the easy way out was seldom the kindest.

  He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He shut his mind to the memory of Mandy’s kisses. The joy that filled him when he came to bed retreated, flooded out by the choice he’d made years ago to follow his father’s dream instead of his own.

  A thought nibbled at the edge of his consciousness. Something about following God’s plan for his life. He couldn’t get a solid hold on the thought and let it slip away.

  He was wide awake but exhausted to the marrow of his bones.

  Already he missed Mandy. Again.

  ❧

  Sunday morning sunlight poured through stained-glass windows, adding to the beauty of the Advent service at the one-hundred-year-old church. Mandy sat beside Ellen in the same oak pew they always shared—sixth row back on the left side. She knew Jason sat with Grandpa Seth and Grandma Tillie in their traditional Sunday morning spot on the other side of the church, three rows farther back.

  The joyous spirit of the season filled the sanctuary. The smell of beeswax candles from the altar and the Advent wreath added an additional element of warmth and comfort.

  Mandy’s first conscious thought when she’d awakened was of the time spent in Jason’s arms the night before. She didn’t know where they were headed, but at least she knew now that he still cared.

  As the service ended and the congregation rose to leave, Ellen leaned close to Mandy and whispered in a grumble, “How come you’re so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning when you got less sleep than I did?”

  Mandy shrugged, smiling, intending to hug the secret to herself awhile longer. Then she changed her mind. The news was too lovely to keep to herself. “You know those kisses you keep asking me about?” she whispered back.


  Ellen’s eyes widened. “You mean you and J. P. . . . ?”

  Mandy nodded, her grin growing.

  “When? Where?”

  “Last night. In the Christmas shop.”

  “I thought you were working. If I’d known you needed a chaperon—”

  “We didn’t, thank you very much.”

  “How did you two end up in the Christmas shop together?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Ellen didn’t look like she wanted to let it go, but she did.

  The sisters exchanged greetings with numerous other church members as they slowly made their way with the rest of the congregation toward the sanctuary door. Mandy’s gaze kept drifting across the sanctuary to Jason, but he was never looking her direction. It disappointed her only slightly. Other friends claimed his attention. She and Jason could talk later.

  He certainly looked handsome in his obviously expensive gray suit, white shirt, and sapphire blue tie. Strange to think of him dressed in that manner every day in a fancy New York office instead of in the casual clothes he wore on the tree farm.

  Mandy, Ellen, Jason, Grandpa Seth, and Grandma Tillie all reached the church vestibule at the same time. They were greeting each other when Beth, coming from Sunday school, pushed her way through the crowd to reach them.

  She grabbed Ellen’s arm. “Mom, guess what? We’re going to do a Christmas play, and Teacher chose me to be Mary.”

  “That’s wonderful, Sweetie.” Ellen gave her a quick hug.

  Mandy and the others added their congratulations.

  Beth beamed at Jason. “I told the teacher I’ll only be Mary if we have those swaddle things you told me about for the baby Jesus.”

  “Swaddling clothes?”

  Beth nodded. “Yes, those. I told her we need a blanket for Him too.”

  “What did she say?” Jason asked.

  “She said that would be fine if I bring the blanket. I’m going to find Bonnie and tell her I’m going to be Mary.” She ducked between two elderly women and disappeared.

  Ellen shook her head. “I better round up those two daughters of mine. We’ll meet you at the car, Mandy.”

  Ellen had barely left when Jason took hold of Mandy’s elbow. “Okay if I walk you to your car?”

  Mandy smiled at him, thrilled at his closeness. “Of course.”

  At the coatracks, Jason helped Mandy into her red wool coat, then put on his own long black dress coat. Mandy thought it made him look even more the successful young executive.

  They stopped beside the driver’s door of her five-year-old white Taurus. “This isn’t an ideal place to talk,” Jason started. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “That’s all right. What is it?” Looking up into his face, she thought, He looks tired.

  “It’s. . .about last night.” His lips formed a tense line.

  Did he think she was upset that he kissed her? She smiled at him, trying to reassure him. “Yes?”

  He rubbed his hand over his hair and closed his eyes. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

  Her stomach clenched. “You’re sorry you kissed me.”

  He nodded, then opened his eyes, met her gaze, and shook his head. “No, I’m not sorry. Not exactly.”

  “What then?”

  “I truly care for you, Mandy. But I’m returning to New York after New Year’s. There’s nowhere for a relationship between us to go.”

  Nowhere to go. Mandy’s chest felt as cold and bleak as a snow-covered plateau. “So you’d rather stop before we start.”

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed the lump that suddenly filled her throat. “I suppose that’s the intelligent thing to do.”

  “I think so.”

  “There’s no chance you might move back permanently?”

  He shook his head.

  Mandy sighed, a sigh shaky with sobs she knew would demand release eventually. “I thought maybe you were reconsidering lately.”

  “No.”

  “Your work in New York—do you still do it for your father, or do you do it for yourself now?”

  He didn’t answer. The silence grew uncomfortable.

  Mandy pulled her gaze from his face. “Is there anything else?”

  “No. I just thought it only fair to tell you. . . .”

  She nodded. She’d received the message loud and clear. He didn’t want her back in his life. “I need to go. Ellen and the girls are coming.”

  She turned her back on him and opened the car door, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know, it’s just possible it would make God happy to see you doing work you enjoy.”

  She climbed into the car. Tears burned her eyes. She tried to force them away. She had no intention of crying in front of the girls.

  She heard Ellen and the girls calling good-byes to Jason, and then they were getting into the car. Ellen fastened her seat belt as Mandy backed the car up. “Now, about those kisses you started to tell me about—”

  “Never mind. They were a mistake. Just one great big mistake.”

  ❧

  Jason struggled to enter into the jovial spirit of the season with his workers and customers the rest of the day and evening. He and Gramps didn’t like that Sunday work was common in the industry, but today it helped to push the image of Mandy’s pain-bruised eyes to the edge of his consciousness.

  There was nothing to push the image away when he was alone in his room that night.

  He forced himself to think on other topics, starting with the Christmas tree business. Always a lot of worries there. More truckloads of trees to be sent to distant lots tomorrow. Course, he’d already arranged for those trips.

  Mandy’s eyes slipped back into his memory.

  He grimaced. The New York office had only contacted him once today. Neal apologized, it being Sunday and all. Seemed a silly apology since Neal was working, and it was Sunday in New York too.

  Mandy would hate life in New York.

  He shut his eyes and rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyelids, trying to rub out the picture of the pain he’d caused her.

  If only he could fall asleep, he’d find freedom from her eyes for a few hours. Sleep wasn’t accommodating his desire.

  What else could he think about? There must be something besides work in his life.

  Gramps and Gram. Ah, yes, finally something cheerful—Gramps’s improving health.

  His dad had never liked Gramps much. Jason hated the way his dad had ridiculed Gramps, simply because the older man found contentment in running a Christmas tree farm instead of pursuing a career guaranteed to bring wealth. Of course, the tree farm was large now and doing well financially. It was a small operation when Jason’s dad met Gramps.

  Jason didn’t like this train of thought any better than thinking about Mandy. He sat up in bed, plumped up his pillows, and stuffed them between his back and the antique oak headboard, then turned on the bedside lamp. He reached for the Bible lying beside the lamp. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well read.

  He turned to the Gospel of Matthew, searching for the verses which had nagged at his mind the last few days. He found them in chapter seven, beginning at verse nine: “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

  He sighed. It seemed to him too many fathers here didn’t “know how to give good gifts to their children.”

  “Did your daddy love you well?” Beth’s question from their discussion on the porch popped into his mind.

  He loved me; he just didn’t understand me. He loved the city and the world of finance and thought I should love them as much as he did. That I should love them instead of the mountains and Christmas tree farming.

  I wanted bread, and he wanted to give me a stone instead.

  Guilt and sorrow rushed through his chest. G
uilt for thinking such a thing about the father he loved. Sorrow for believing the thought true.

  The truth seared into his soul. He’d believed his father hadn’t loved him because Jason didn’t desire the same things his father desired. That’s why he’d chosen to go into a financial career when his father died. One last, desperate attempt to gain his father’s approval and love.

  Father would be proud of my success. He’d think that stone he wanted for me is gold, through and through. He’d think that stone will buy me all the bread I need.

  He and his father hadn’t known each other at all.

  He’d told Mandy that Zach’s actions broke Beth’s image of God as a Father. I wonder if my image of God is warped because my father and I saw what constitutes bread and stones differently. He didn’t think so. At least I understand that God is love.

  Jason set the Bible back on the table, turned off the light, and tried again to go to sleep.

  Eighteen

  During the next few weeks, Mandy felt certain Jason avoided her whenever possible. That was all right with her. It took all her emotional strength to keep up a facade of cheerfulness for her customers and Beth and Bonnie.

  Only with Ellen did she let her defenses down and reveal her sadness. Even then, she refused to discuss Jason with her sister.

  She’d lied to herself about those kisses Thanksgiving weekend. Told herself it was okay; she didn’t know where they might lead. She knew exactly where she wanted them to lead—into Jason’s heart and soul for the rest of their lives.

  Eight years ago it sliced her heart when Jason left. Now she’d reopened her heart to the possibility of his love and been wounded again.

  At least Beth appeared more cheerful. Her upcoming role as Mary and the normal childhood excitement of nearing Christmas apparently cast her untrustworthy father into the background of her mind.

  “Did you ever see anyone so excited about a nonspeaking role?” Ellen asked Mandy with a grin.

  “She seems less preoccupied with Zach, anyway.”

  “Yes. Maybe one day she’ll heal from his selfishness.”

  The Christmas store became more of a blessing than ever for Mandy. Her longing for Jason was ever-present, but the demands of the store kept her from burying herself in self-pity.