by LoRee Peery
Rob’s fingers waved at her, followed by the top of his head as he tried to push through. He smelled divine. All masculine and a little sweaty with some kind of motor oil added to the mix.
“Mind moving back so I can wash up?”
She raised her gaze to his face but he glared at something over her shoulder.
The females went out.
Oren waved from the drive.
“Rob, pull the door shut when you’re finished, please.”
Oren opened the back SUV door. Nora and Sara piled in so Paisley followed suit. Rob took the passenger seat in front of Paisley.
“Where are we going, Daddy?”
“Wherever the highway takes us, honeybunch. You came in on 275, right, Rob? So you saw the pretty pastures to the east?”
“Yes. And smelled the feedlots.”
Everyone laughed.
“Those lots, and the smell, are a lot fewer in number than when we were kids,” Nora said, making a wrinkly face.
“Then we’ll go north on 81,” Oren declared.
“Didn’t the sign say Johnny Carson Boulevard back there?”
“Same route. Commemorative name,” Nora added.
“I still can’t get over how big the sky looks,” Paisley said.
“As big as the ocean in California?” Sara piped.
“Sometimes it’s hard to see where the sky meets the Pacific,” Rob said. “The magnificence of the ocean is one of the most peaceful things on earth. If I think about it much, I get homesick for the beach real quick.”
They were out of town in less than ten minutes.
Sara stretched to see out the windshield. “You took Highway 13. Where are we going again?”
“Just for a ride, baby. Maybe as far as Willow Creek State Park, and then we’ll go west for a bit and come back on country roads.”
“Oh, boy. Can we play a game?”
“How about, let’s take turns giving a little history lesson.” Ever the teacher, Nora continued, “I’ll start. We’re in Madison County and Norfolk is the seventh largest city in the state.”
“How come it’s pronounced more like Nor Fork?” Rob asked.
“Now that’s a conundrum I’ve contemplated since I learned how to read,” Oren answered with humor. “What’s your answer to that, teach?”
“I’ll do an Internet search or ask someone the next time we go to the Elkhorn Valley Museum. The Elkhorn Valley is rich farmland…”
“I know the answer.” Sarah sat tall. “I know about the name, Momma. It’s the North Fork of the Elkhorn River.”
“Well, aren’t you the smart one?” Nora continued, “In the summertime, you can go to a rodeo or town festival almost anywhere in the state.”
“Kool-Aid was invented in Hastings, Nebraska,” Sara chimed in.
Rob rewarded her with a funny face and exaggerated smacking of lips.
Paisley listened without the rest of the information registering. She spent her ogling between farmland out the window and Rob’s reflection in the side mirror. Would they soon have a moment alone together?
Oren waved his hand Rob’s direction. “There’s a Nebraska map in the door pocket if you want a bigger picture than your phone gives.”
Rob unfolded the map like a pro. “Wow. Lots of open land.”
“Land that still bears the marks of the Oregon Trail,” Nora said.
“Most of the population lives in the eastern part of the state. And there’s an ongoing oil pipeline controversy that has landowners and naturalists up in arms over the route of the line. At least it’s at the edge of the Sandhills instead of going through them now.”
“We’re over the Ogallala Aquifer,” Sara informed. “Just imagine Uncle Rob, Nebraska is on top of the biggest lake in the whole United States. Maybe the whole world.”
“Several states, at least,” Nora said with an indulgent smile.
Oren turned off the highway. A mile later, he slowed at the park entrance.
“It’s a state park,” Rob noted. “Do we need permission?”
Oren pointed to the sticker in his windshield. “That’ll keep us safe if we run into a uniform. Game and Parks runs the state parks through the peak season and make periodic checks offseason. They keep track of campers and boaters and fishermen, as well as daily picnickers. Like the rest of the country except for snow sports, tourists descend May through Labor Day. So we missed the crowd by mere weeks.”
“I would think a whole lot of outdoor recreation takes place here in the summertime,” Paisley added. “May I have one of those maps?”
“On our way back I’ll point out the visitors’ center where you can get one.”
“You won’t be here long enough to even look at a map, let alone have time to go anywhere,” Rob grumbled.
“What?” Nora squeaked. “You’re leaving?”
“She’s been offered a job back in California.” Rob tore the map on a fold.
Paisley chose to remain quiet rather than ruin the outing. Then again, what she held to herself kept Rob hurting.
“Let’s not let tomorrow interfere with today,” Oren said. “Want the playground, sweet girl of mine?”
“Yes, Daddy! Let’s swing, Mom. Daddy, will you push me as high as the sky?” Sara clambered over Paisley to open the door and they all got out of the SUV.
“Little kids wrap around your heart like the fingers of a big fist grabbing hold,” Paisley said to Rob.
He nodded and leaned back against the side of the SUV.
Oh, Rob, you are your own worst enemy.
Would he ever loosen up? Find his center of peace, and discover how valuable he was in the site of his Maker, as well as his family?
What would a child of theirs look like? He or she would have a mop of hair. Rob’s was so thick, and hers so curly. The color would be somewhere between ebony and blonde, like Sara’s.
For such a love as theirs.
The past needed to be bridged first. If she took care and made things right, would Rob offer his love again? There was still too much between them. She had to tell him the job in California wasn’t that important, but words might interfere with the sweet tension of this secluded interlude. For now, she was consumed by the depth of her love for the man who stood before her. It hurt.
As though he answered her silent plea for contact, Rob held out his hand. She gladly placed her smaller palm in his. He curled his fingers around hers, leading her down a path into the trees.
Paisley had learned air could be tasted in this part of the country. She’d tasted humidity. She’d tasted sunshine. Here in the midst of nature, she tasted the season at the end of its growing cycle, ready for dormancy that would sprout into new life in a few months.
Was there any reason on this earth why she and Rob couldn’t face new birth of their relationship after it lay dormant?
The rustling of sparrows reminded her of the Bible reference that God knew and cared when one of the small brown birds fell to the ground. She stopped at the sight of a red-capped bird with black and white on its body, a woodpecker.
The beauty of their surroundings must have softened him as well, because Rob slowed enough for her shoulder to brush his arm. Tree canopy lessened and then opened up for them to see the edge of the lake.
Oren called Rob’s name and Paisley pivoted.
“Wait.” He crushed her to him as if he thought she’d vanish, expressing what she hoped to soon hear verbally. For now, she was fine with his touch alone.
Paisley cherished the depth of his feelings in past kisses that carried her beyond reason. Could they get beyond externals and follow their hearts?
8
Would she hand back his heart if Rob told her how necessary she was to him? How there were times he feared he couldn’t breathe if she left again, now that they were around each other?
“That you, Rob?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, shutting the door to Edna Mae’s home.
“I’ve told you before not to ma’am me, y
oung man. You need to live a little and learn to recognize that your friends, older or not, are not ma’amed.” She followed her exaggeration with a cackle. “But I do like your manners. Go ahead and wash up. I’ve got some chocolate cake and a glass of ice cold milk.”
“Now that sounds like the way to a man’s heart, no matter his age. It’s turned out to be a pretty good day. Be right back up.”
He set a copy of the Waverly genealogy Oren had given him next to his Bible. Today’s outing pulled him more emotionally toward family than he’d ever been, except for daydreams of a life with Paisley. Rob planned to go for the blood test as soon as he could.
In between bites a few moments later, Edna Mae asked for a detailed recap of the day’s journey. Reliving the afternoon brought as many flashes of Paisley’s enjoyment as did reviewing the landscapes through the eyes of family. That was some lake they’d circled. He understood the appeal of land for those who earned their living off it.
“We topped off the day over dinner. Sara’s quite the kid. I’ve never been around such a smart girl. She made me laugh.”
“Well, it tickles my heart to see you less troubled. When you first got here, I imagined lightning flashes and thunderbolts exploding off your dark face like some mythical god. You are so blessed, the way you’re getting to know your father’s family. Now, I’ve never heard you say a word about your mother. Where does Precious live these days? I’d love to have her address and drop her a line.”
Rob focused on his clean plate. He wiped his mouth a final time, refolded his paper napkin, and placed it on his fork. He tipped his coffee cup to find it empty. “To tell the truth, I don’t know. I left her in Petaluma when I was seventeen. That’s the last time we spoke.”
“Over twenty years.” Edna Mae slumped back in her chair. “I expect you plum broke her heart. You don’t even know if she’s alive?”
“No, I don’t.” Rob dropped his gaze.
Edna Mae kicked back her chair, cleared the table, and ran water in the sink, all with a clatter of noise out of character for her. A storm brewed.
“All right.” She plopped back in her chair. She wadded the towel and tossed it across the kitchen table to the counter.
Rob met her glare.
“That little output of energy calmed me. I get how you grew up not knowing your father. I empathize over the way you felt toward your mother for keeping the secret, but you’ve been a grown man for some time now. And you’re a Christian.”
He folded his hands, feeling as chastised as a child. Good thing Paisley wasn’t a witness to this dressing down.
Edna Mae reached over and with a surprisingly warm touch, covered his hands. “Forgive your mother. Forgiveness frees us, Rob. It frees our creativity. It enables us to be the people God planned for us to be, doing the work He set out for us to do. I’m sorry if I’m giving you a sermon here, but holding a grudge, being bitter and resentful, breaks out our unhealed wounds over and over. It’s like the fresh bleeding when we pull off a scab.”
“I know. You’re right. I’ve tried many times but don’t really know how to let it go.”
“We all reach a point where we have to let go of things that keep us mired down. As I said, letting go frees us.”
Out of nowhere, he remembered those treasured dog ashes. What had she done with them after carrying them in her car for so long? Had she ever let go?
She patted his hand and nodded. “You’re smart and you’ve got talent. You were chosen to do a job. God won’t allow you to fill that commission until you heal those hurts. That means locating and setting things right with your mother.”
“I’ve actually been thinking about calling her. Oren has convinced me Mark was my father. I guess I need to talk to her about that.”
“Good. That’s amazingly great. And don’t forget Paisley. It was clear to me at dinner how much that girl loves you. If you love her in return and if there’s any chance for the two of you, spend time on your knees. Write something pretty in a beautiful card. Make that phone call to your mama in California. That ought to pave the way for pledging your love to Paisley. Enough lecture.” She stood and folded the towel. “Time for my favorite show, and then it’ll be lights out for this old gal.”
Rob gave her a hug and patted her shoulder. “Thanks, Edna Mae. I needed that kick in the pants.”
He formulated a prayer with his first step to the basement. I’m weary, my God. I don’t think I have the energy to hold on to the hurt much longer. I’m tired of the heavy burden, and I give it to You. Please show me what to do, how to seek a joyful heart.
A vision of Paisley’s beaming face accompanied him past the TV sitting room to the guest bedroom. The memory of holding her in his arms made his insides tremble with tentacles of longing.
He shut the door to his temporary room and dropped to his knees. “Father God, please give me the courage to call my mother and to make things right with Paisley. I don’t deserve her love, Abba Father, but I thank You for the privilege of having her around. And I thank You for this new family in Norfolk, Nebraska. Oh, God, thank You for allowing me to visit this breathless expanse of land You made here. Guide me. I ask that You show me where to go from here. You’ve been my Father, yet I still sought one here on earth. Forgive me. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
*
The next day, Paisley recalled cherished moments of the day before. Rob’s chiseled features had often been transformed by a smile over the banter with his family. The outing had been a delightful break from work and dinner was enjoyable.
She cautiously entered the dank basement of the house.
Halfway down the stairs, she stopped with one foot in the air. “Oh, my.”
Some of it looked organized with stacks of storage tubs, many heaped five feet high. Other piles harbored who-knew-what.
Beneath the window, she carefully stepped on a kitty litter bucket. Had there been a cat in the house? She planted her other foot on two paint cans and stretched up to open the casement window closest to the stairs. Even though she could only open it a crack, the cool morning air was fresh.
She didn’t know where to start. She hightailed it up the stairs and stomped out back. “Rob, I need your help.”
He turned from the birdcage and pushed to his feet. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“No, but I could use some brawn on that basement. It’s beyond my physical capabilities.” She reached for his hand. “Come with me, please. Do you have gloves?”
He set down a tool, grabbed a pair of worn leather gloves, and stuffed them in a back pocket. He wrapped his hand around hers and let her lead him.
She released his hand and raced down, glad for his company. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t know where to start. What do you think?”
He fingered his hair, let it fall back in place, and measured the task. “No idea if there’s enough trash here for a roll-off dumpster. We have to start somewhere. Tell you what, let’s clear a path to the window. I’ll see if I can unhinge it so it opens all the way.”
“This is a disaster area compared to the stuff in the shed. Everything is neat and in its place out back.”
“It’s a mess. I’m going to fall back on some brotherly love and let Oren know he can’t expect you to tackle this by yourself.” His arm was still raised, fingers digging the back of his neck. “If I were to guess, Oren has no idea. He already had his own home when his mother died. No doubt Mark started putting stuff out of sight he thought he could use some day, and then it reached a point he didn’t know what to do with it all.”
“Sounds plausible. I can’t imagine a woman taking this path to the laundry room. At least I’m guessing that a washer and dryer are around that far corner. I saw no hook-up anywhere else in the house.”
“Maybe he quit taking the path as well, according to Edna Mae’s comments about his cleanliness. Curious why she hasn’t talked about all this.”
“It’s sad in a way, to see how things can get so out of hand. An
d thanks, it is too much for just me. Aunt Rainbow never mentioned the basement, she may not have come down these steps.”
He shimmied to the wall, using his feet to slide paper and plastic sacks out of the way. “Looks as though the basement floor was used for a trash can. Let me open this window further. I’ll also ask Edna Mae if we can borrow a couple plastic crates. You can load ‘em with light stuff, then push them through the window and outside. Then I can dump what we’re tossing right into the garbage cans. I’ll find out from Oren where to get big boxes to hold the overflow.”
“Thanks for dropping what you were doing to help me. Clean-up will be easier with you helping. And taking stuff out through the window so I don’t have to climb the stairs carrying a thousand loads is brilliant. Thank you.”
He folded his arms above her waist and pulled her close. “What can I say? I’ll jump at any chance to be in close quarters with a beautiful woman.”
His kiss shut off her brain and consumed her logic.
Her legs went wobbly.
Thank the Lord Rob held her up. He didn’t let her go until her feet were steady.
“My goodness,” her voice shook, “I should have asked for your help a long time ago.”
“You’ve got it now. Who knows? This may be like a scavenger hunt, and we’ll unearth boxes within boxes of secret wealth.”
“Uh huh. Good thing neither of has allergies. Go get those tools.”
He reached behind the bottom step and grabbed three pairs of grimy, muddy boots. “I’ll toss these. We have to start somewhere.”
Would the melding of their labor bridge the gap of what had been missing between the two of them?
She snorted, sneezed, and then laughed anew at the absurdity of it all.
Time to take a stab at it. A newer model bicycle, scattered tables and plant stands, a couple television sets, vacuums, fans, and rolled up rugs cluttered the room. No one was hurt by the build-up. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder how a firefighter would react to the mess.
