The Waiting
Page 9
He waited for her to sit on the swing and then took his place beside her. He handed her a Styrofoam cup and began doling out the contents of the bag. “I was surprised to see you at the meeting yesterday. You hadn’t told me you were chaperoning the trip to Oklahoma.”
“You hadn’t asked, and for your information,” she looked over at him. “I don’t tell you everything that’s happening in my life. Besides you didn’t tell me you were going either.”
“Well, I don’t tell you everything that’s happening in my life, either.” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis as he spoke and then winked. “Seriously, it would have made my decision a lot easier if I’d known you were going.”
She kept her tone light, playful. “It would have, would it? So, shall I take that as a compliment?”
As he turned and stared deeply into her eyes, her breathing caught. She shouldn’t be leading him on like this.
He leaned closer and whispered, “I never said my answer would have been yes.” Grinning, he drew away and took another bite of his bagel.
Positively infuriating—another quality that was not on The List.
As he looked back at her, the sparkle in his eyes was gone. “Seriously, there are probably lots of people out there who would have been a better choice to go than me. Like you, for instance. You’re the perfect choice. From what I’ve observed, you’re a great role model for those girls.”
Sure, if they wanted to end up disappointed and confused in ten years. “What do you mean? I’d say you’ve made quite a success of yourself.” She looked over at him, and saw a vulnerable ninth grade boy sharing her swing.
“Let’s just say, my life hasn’t been exactly imitation-worthy. I’m great with a soccer ball and pretty darn good with a hammer...but not so proficient with the Bible and all this church stuff.” The chains creaked as he gently pushed the swing back and forth.
“Nobody’s perfect.” Nobody was perfect. Not Mom, not Dad, not her...not even Clark. She’d followed all the rules, all the steps. She’d planned as perfectly as she’d known how, but she must not have done a good enough job, because life hadn’t turned out as she’d hoped.
He raised his hand. “Exhibit A for imperfection right here.”
“Sam, that’s not what I meant. You have a very successful life.”
“Yes, I do. I worked really hard and achieved every goal I set for myself.” The swing stopped. “And now that I’m where I am, I realize they were the wrong goals. Not that they were all bad, but they just weren’t good enough. I mean, how can a teenage boy really know what a man will want or need?”
The swing began to move again as they finished their breakfast in silence.
She was still waiting because she hadn’t reached her goals. He was still waiting because he had.
As he pushed his trash into the bag, the crackle of the paper broke into her world. “So, m’lady, what’s the plan for today?”
Time to get back to reality. “My dad’s coming home tomorrow, and I wanted everything to be perfect for him. The last thing on my list is cleaning up this backyard. I’ve let it get in horrible shape.”
“What do you mean? Looks pretty good to me. Your mom’s flowers are blooming, the grass is green.”
She pushed her trash into the bag he offered. “My mother would have never let things get so far out of control. Can’t you see all the weeds between the flowers?”
“Well, maybe if you give me a magnifying glass. The garden is gorgeous, and you’re missing all the beauty because you’re concentrating on a few rogue plants.” He stood and held out his hand. “Stand up.”
She placed her hand in his and did as he asked.
“Now close your eyes.”
After she followed his instructions, he covered her eyes with one hand, and placed the other on her far shoulder. “OK, we’ll walk slowly to your right. Keep those eyes closed.”
The hand covering her eyes was warm and scented like a cinnamon raisin bagel mixed with the fresh fragrance of his cologne. Her right shoulder began to tingle where his other hand firmly rested as he guided her. Memories of dancing blindfolded in his arms raced back.
“Relax. You’re all stiff. Now turn a little to the left, but keep your eyes closed until I say. No peeking.”
His hands no longer touched her. “Now look.”
As she opened her eyes, an uncontrollable gasp escaped. She had never seen the garden revealed like the unveiling of a new acquisition at an art museum. A riot of yellow, pink, purple, red, orange, white, and lavender assaulted her eyes while the morning light electrified each blossom until it seemed to sparkle.
“Oh, it’s lovely, absolutely lovely. Like a life-sized painting at the Kimball.” The colors began to wash together.
His arm encircled her shoulder as he drew her close. “Yes, and you’ve been concentrating on the individual brushstrokes instead of the whole painting. You’ve let a few weeds destroy the beauty of the whole garden.”
“You’re right.” She leaned into him and placed her head against his shoulder as they lingered in silence a few moments more. “Thanks. I’ll never see the garden the same again.”
She would have stayed within the circle of his embrace much longer, but she couldn’t. She wanted to, but she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t have let him hug her in the first place in case he misinterpreted her actions and thought they were more than friends. But, then, couldn’t one friend hug another?
The sun was climbing high in the sky, and its heat had already chased away any early morning cool. She placed her hands against his chest and gently pushed away. “Well, you’ve certainly proven your point, but the truth is I can still see those weeds.”
“Ah, yes, penance time.”
~*~
Sam dragged the hose across the grass, pointed the nozzle toward the freshly weeded flower beds, and squeezed the trigger. Katherine should be satisfied. Not a weed was left, and the bushes were trimmed. The garden was immaculate.
The door on the deck closed, and her voice called behind him. “I brought us some water.”
He ignored her and kept his back turned. He shouldn’t do this, but he just had to. It would be good for her. She needed to chill.
The grass rustled as she neared. “Sam, did you hear me? I brought you some water.”
Game time. Still squeezing the trigger, he whipped around and shot her full force in the stomach. “What?”
She shrieked and ran far enough away to be out of range. “Sam! Stop it!”
He stood still. “Sorry. Seems the nozzle’s stuck.” He made a show of adjusting the trigger and released his grip so that the water flow stopped. “I’m not sure what happened. Some sort of malfunction.”
She dropped the bottled water on the ground and moved toward him. “That’s strange. My dad just bought that before he left. I guess I need to exchange it.”
As she neared him, he held it out. “See?” When she was well within range, he squeezed it and got her again.
She squealed once more, but instead of running away this time, she ran toward him. “It wasn’t a malfunction. It was a Sam-function. Samuel Houston Tucker, you give me that hose.”
“No way, missy.” He kicked off his flip-flops to run, but she dove, tackled him to the ground, and grabbed the nozzle. As they rolled back and forth in the grass laughing, water spewing, she somehow managed to wrestle the hose away and shot him in the face.
“Stop. My contacts. I think I lost one.”
The water quit as she tossed the hose to the side. “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry. Let me help you look.” On hands and knees, they both carefully surveyed the wet grass while he inched closer to the hose. “Hey, I think I found it.”
“You did?”
“No. Wait. I just remembered. I don’t wear contacts.” He grabbed the nozzle and shot her on her shoulders and then in the back as she turned and ran across the yard.
“You liar!”
Suddenly she froze, and he followed her line of sight to the deck.
Katherine’s smile vanished. “Clark...”
11
Katherine quickly pulled on some dry clothes, wrapped a towel around her head, and headed out to the den.
Clark stood staring out the French doors into the garden, his profile accented by pursed lips and a knit brow. She’d seen that look many times before. He was angry.
“This is certainly a surprise, Clark.”
As he turned toward her, his accusatory tone matched his frown. “Yeah, apparently so. I tried to call to let you know I was coming through Crescent Bluff, but you didn’t answer. So I decided to take a chance and stop by.”
She took a deep breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “Well, if you’d left a message, I’d have called you back.”
His response was short. “You know I don’t like to leave messages.”
It had been weeks since they’d seen each other or even spoken or texted, and she didn’t want to spend this time arguing. But she wasn’t a mind reader. “All I’m saying is that if you’d left a message, I would have called you back and then I’d have known you were coming.”
“Who was the guy?”
So, the real issue had nothing to do with phone calls and messages. “Sam? An old school friend of mine. He’s been visiting his aunt and uncle here while he’s on medical leave from his job. Our paths just crossed.” He didn’t have to know how. “And since neither of us has many friends left in town, we started hanging out—you know, just for companionship.”
A twinge of guilt pricked her heart. While her words were honest, her intent was deceit—no, not exactly deceit, more like camouflage. After she’d turned down Clark’s proposal, they’d both agreed they needed some time apart to think and pray. So this season of their relationship was meant to be one of reevaluation. And while he had suggested that if either of them found someone they wanted to date, they could, he’d spoken out of hurt, and he hadn’t really meant it.
Besides, her relationship with Sam was yet undefined, swirling around out there in the land of confusion. Nothing Sam had said or done indicated that they were anything more than friends. She and Sam weren’t really dating, but Clark would never believe that.
“He must be a rich friend. That was some car.” As he moved closer and took her hand, the furrows in his brow softened. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised, that’s all. Seeing you soaking wet and running around like some grade school kid was not what I had pictured for our first time together in so long.”
Soaking wet and running around having fun…As he pulled her to his chest, his nearness almost smothered her. She hadn’t realized this when they were dating, but he was way too tall. Juanita’s picture of a Great Dane and a Chihuahua flashed into her mind, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling.
As his arms encircled her so tightly that she fought to breathe, his words vibrated in his chest. “I’ve missed you so much the past few weeks. I didn’t try to contact you before now because I wanted to give you some space. I haven’t been dating, or even looking, for that matter. There’s no one else for me but you. I want you to know that. I’m willing to wait however long it takes you to work out your issues and come back. I’ll be here.”
She stood on her tiptoes, strained to place a quick kiss upon his cheek, and then pushed away. “Thanks.”
“So, I have some good news, and since I was headed to Austin for a meeting, I decided to deliver it myself.” As he took both her hands, he grinned, his earlier frown completely gone. He certainly was a handsome man when he smiled. “I heard from corporate, and I’ll be able to hire you back in a few weeks. Isn’t that great?”
Complicated was a more accurate adjective. “Oh...”
His smile regressed back into the stony frown. “Not exactly the response I expected. Underwhelming, to say the least. I thought you’d be excited to get your old job back. Surely, you haven’t changed your mind about returning to Dallas.”
“It’s not that. Of course, I want my job back. I trained for that job for years, so I haven’t been looking for anything else, just waiting and hoping I’d be able to return. But I’ve obligated to chaperone a youth mission trip at church this summer, and depending upon when the job opens up, I might not be available.”
“I went to bat for you with John. This is a good opportunity, and if you want to advance, you’ll have to make some sacrifices.”
“I want to be successful at work, but I also want to fulfill the commitment I made to the church.”
His face softened again. “My responsible Katherine. I’ve always loved that about you. We’ll just have to hope the timing works out right. And if it doesn’t, I can probably come up with some excuse to buy you a few weeks.” He pulled her close once more. “Well, I’ve got to hit the road if I want to make it to Austin in time for the evening session of the seminar.” Suddenly he placed the crook of his finger under her chin and gently lifted her face toward his as he bent down and softly kissed her. He drew back and whispered, “I hope that was OK.”
After these weeks apart if he was really The One, she certainly should have felt something—some longing, some desire, or passion. But her heart was empty.
“Katherine?”
“Yes, Clark, of course that was OK.” And that was the problem. His kisses had always been just OK. She couldn’t remember ever feeling passionate toward Clark, or any other man she’d dated, for that matter. Maybe she’d been too busy checking off the items on the list rather than allowing herself to feel. Or maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she was incapable of romantic passion.
No. Simply imagining Sam’s kiss evoked more passionate feelings than any actual kiss from Clark. But then, maybe the anticipation of what a kiss from Sam might feel like was more exciting than the act itself would be. Kind of like seeing the newest fashion in the window at the department store and then being disappointed when she tried it on and looked nothing like the mannequin.
Well, she’d likely never know. Sam’s agenda, whatever it was, didn’t seem to include ever kissing her. Besides, attraction, not curiosity, should be the reason to kiss someone. Even though Sam was fun, she could never let herself be romantically involved with him. He was lightyears away from the man who was right for her—the man she’d sought all the years.
So, a kiss from Sam? She could never let that happen.
~*~
Finishing the fifth lap around the soccer field, Sam pulled his shirttail up and wiped the sweat from his face. Not only was the temperature in the high eighties, but he was ridiculously out of shape. Other than some short periods on the treadmill at physical therapy—inside, in air conditioning—he hadn’t really run in the weeks since the surgery. His endurance wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but he still had a long way to go before he could get back in uniform on the field.
Things with Katherine hadn’t exactly ended today as he’d thought they would. He’d had a “spontaneous” lunch and a car ride planned. Whoever Clark was, he definitely believed he had territorial rights over her. Although she’d never mentioned him, they had some sort of history together.
A part of Sam had wanted to stick around and see what happened, but Clark’s demeanor let him know he wasn’t welcome. And while he didn’t care what Clark thought or wanted, hanging around might have made it harder on Katherine, so he’d left. She didn’t need him there, anyway. She could handle herself.
At least now he knew one of the other competitors. Game on.
A whistle sounded on the sidelines as Brad waved the girls over for a brief meeting. The changes in positions Sam had suggested had improved the team, and today’s pract
ice had gone really well. In a couple more weeks, they’d be ready for the tournament.
Sam stood quietly in the back while Brad went over the team roster for Saturday’s game and gave a brief review of the strengths and weaknesses of the opposition. As he finished up, Sam glanced toward the knot of parents waiting across the field to take their daughters home. No Katherine. He wanted to see her—just to know she was OK.
Cassie and Sophie had begun crossing the field and were heading toward the parking lot. Sophie’s mom must be picking up today because if it had been Katherine’s turn, she would have already been here.
“I’m stoked. The girls looked great today.” Brad slapped him on the back. “Thanks for the suggestions, man. Amazing what some fresh eyes and professional advice can do. Any other ideas?”
“Nope. We’ll just see how Saturday goes, but I think they’ll win.”
“Me, too. Man, you were really moving out there. Should have gotten my stopwatch out. Made me tired just watching you.”
“I don’t even want to know how slow I was. I’ve gotta get into shape before I return to the UK this fall.”
Brad placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. “Hey, man, aren’t you about done with all that playing around? Time to grow up. You should move back here.”
Yes, he should. “All this ‘playing around’ is hard work. And I’ve been rewarded by getting to do things and go places I would have never been able to go without it. My life’s been great. Everything I ever dreamed of.” Yet less than he desired. “But there’s no way I could move back right now even if I wanted to. I’m under contract until the end of the spring season next year. And besides, what would I do? All I know is soccer and construction. And the last thing I want to do is construction work.”
Brad placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mind if I add that to my prayer list?”
What could it hurt? “Sure, man. Go for it. See you later.”
A familiar pink water bottle sat on the ground at the end of the bench. No need to read the name marked on it. Cassie’s forgetfulness could be his windfall. Any valid excuse to stop by and see Katherine. He scooped it up and threw it into his bag. He jogged over to the parking lot, opened the trunk of his car, and dropped his bag inside.