“What gives, Randy?” she had asked point blank.
Randy was already ashamed of his behavior, embarrassing his son like that. He didn’t make excuses. “Sorry about that. Bad morning.” He left an overly generous tip and muttered, “Have to get back to work. See you at home about five,” to Jimmy, who stayed behind.
Now he wished he knew how long Jimmy had stayed. Randy kicked some gravel with the toe of his shoe before he got into his car and drove to work.
In the evening, when Randy went to pick up Jimmy, he watched a familiar car pull into the lot. Kaye emerged, held a hand up to block the glare of the setting sun, and then brushed back her heavy swath of hair set free from the confining net she wore at work. He stayed still against the warmth of his own car door, still as a deer caught in headlights, hoping not to be noticed so he could keep on watching her. She saw him anyway, waved, and sauntered over.
“It was a nice day. I hope the kids had a good time,” she said, skipping over a greeting.
“Hmm.”
“Jimmy goes back Sunday?”
Not a moment too soon. “Yes, I’ll drive him up home. School starts soon.”
“Look, Randy, I think you should know something.” She held her hand up to her eyes again, turning toward the road as if to spy the bus. Randy slumped against the side of his car and crossed his arms, head bent, sure of the news to come.
“You know I’m not really much into the parenting scene. I love Tanya, but she’s easy, not like when we were kids, you know?”
Randy shifted against the warm side of the car, irritable. Of course he knew. He sighed. “Yes.”
“We had a good talk, your boy and me. He’s nice, Randy. You and Jenny did well with him.”
“Jenny did, you mean.”
“You, too, Randy. I mean it. But Tanya’s not ready for anything serious. I don’t want that for her. She’s never asked me for time off before, like yesterday—and today. I already said yes to this trip before Jimmy came, so that was okay. But, yesterday? You know they spent the whole time together, don’t you?”
He hadn’t. Jimmy hadn’t said anything besides “hung out with some peeps” when he’d asked yesterday evening what Jimmy had done all day. “Thanks for telling me. They just met, and Jimmy’s leaving. They’ll forget about this by the time school starts. Don’t worry.”
“I hope you’re right.”
The bus pulled in. Parents herded over to pick up their various progeny and friends. Kaye held up her hand again, shielding her eyes from the last blast of sunset. She caught her breath and Randy turned to look, too. All the kids had exited the bus except for one last couple tangled together in the back. Randy beetled his brows under his aviator sunglasses and he started forward. Kaye put her hand on his arm.
“Wait. Randy, it’s only a kid thing. Don’t fuel it or make it worse. Please.”
Randy looked down at her neat hand and let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“If we make a big deal out of it that will only encourage them,” she said.
“You’re right. Okay.” Randy sighed. “Yeah. Jimmy goes back on Sunday.”
One of the chaperons hustled the kids off the bus. Randy thrust aside the old, old feeling of regret he had every time he thought about Jenny. When he saw his ex-wife again, he had to be collected or she would wonder if something was wrong. He didn’t see enough of his boy as it was, and he did not want to alienate Jimmy or his mother. Not this late in the game. Jimmy was almost a man. He forced a smile. “You sure you’re not into the motherhood thing? You seem to have good instincts around Tanya.”
His compensation was the pleased look on her face, the softening expression in her eyes. It would have to be enough to hold him. She’d rejected him once but she’d never gotten over his rebound to her best friend either. He watched her lead Tanya to her car, whispering heatedly in the girl’s ear. Tanya turned for one last look at Jimmy. Neither waved or acknowledged the other.
Jimmy got silently into their car. Randy hesitated at the wheel, wondering what to say.
“Save it, Dad,” Jimmy stated. Randy immediately bristled until he realized his son was simply on guard against what he assumed would be a natural reaction.
He let go a deep breath and turned on the ignition. “It looks like you had a pretty good time,” he said mildly, and was rewarded by Jimmy’s gape. Randy smiled. “Close your mouth, son. You’re lettin’ in sand lions.” They both laughed.
On Sunday they had the best trip back into the Upper Peninsula he could remember. This must be the start of something good. Kaye had sought him out to talk and he and Jimmy found a reasonable place to meet each other halfway. The long wait for God to answer his prayers had been worth it. Please, God, for Ted. Now for Ted. Heal him.
Chapter Seven
Ted Marshall had become accustomed to tingling pain sparking up and down his limbs and spine, and having various parts of his anatomy betray him with trembling and total collapse. He frowned and flexed his left foot. Something was different. He was reluctant to even hope his range of motion seemed easier these last couple of weeks. His last headache had been—well, he couldn’t remember when the last one laid him out. The physical therapy must be starting to kick in. His left leg had all but stopped its twitching, he realized, though the arm had not.
He and Eddy had a good time on their “men’s” fishing trip earlier in the summer. He felt strong enough to guide their boat out. Swimming did wonders to ease the trembling. It had been the most pleasant summer since Dad passed. Since Jilly. Since the year of the apple disaster. He finished a complicated schedule for pruning and spraying at the Woolver’s orchards, profiting Eddy’s trust fund. He also worked out a rotation of needed housing between the migrant workers and the several housing facilities maintained between the co-op and the larger marketers. The clients were pleased.
Ted eased himself onto the lower step of Grace’s house while he watched his son stalk the cat, Trigger. Grace’s house. He realized it didn’t bother him, being able to move on. The house had been his—his and Jilly’s—for a few years first, and Dad’s before that. Life here with his wife had not been all that pleasant. Except for Eddy.
He twisted his lips as his hand slid down the length of the cane which replaced the crutch. He set it aside, wishing he could be out there playing with Eddy and Grace. He was still too unsteady to move quickly on uneven ground. Maybe soon, if I keep improving.
Grace waved at him, brushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, and clamped her silly floppy green hat back onto her head when the breeze threatened to take it. They had been to church that morning and she had not complained about complying with the unwritten rule of headgear for women. She had not yet changed her clothes from the full skirt and light top she had worn to the service. She had, however, removed her sandals and ran barefoot in the lawn. If he felt more like a healthy man with a future, something to offer a woman like Grace, he might think about getting into the dating game again. What had happened to her husband? Had he been elderly, sick, or had his death been a sudden shock? He rather thought the latter, although he had not felt right about asking. She should have been a mother. He loved watching her with Eddy.
Ted grinned at the sight of his son who screamed with delight and kicked his heels when he finally touched the marmalade cat’s tail. It streaked by the boy when he almost had her cornered.
“Daddy! We almost got her!”
Ted gave him a thumbs-up. Eddy had gotten a haircut, he could see—probably yesterday when he had been working. Eddy turned five a week ago. Grace made a cake which she served with ice cream to four of his son’s favorite Sunday School friends.
Kindergarten would start soon, and Ted wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The world was so big, so scary. He wanted to keep the little guy close, not let any of the terrible things touch his innocence and break his trust.
Ted leaned back on his elbows and lifted his face to the late afternoon warmth. Grace’s flowerbed rioted ar
ound the circle she had dug, dark purple alyssum bordering the taller mix of annuals. The couple of things he recognized, cosmos and statis, swayed in the breeze.
Grace dropped by his side after a moment, gasping for breath and leaving Eddy to frolic after the cat who had left a roly-poly jumble of kittens in the playhouse. No worries there—it was now spick and span with floorboards safely repaired. Eddy’s zeal to reclaim his pet kept them wholly occupied during most of his days spent with her and filled his supper and bedtime chatter.
“Weather’s changing again,” Ted said and nodded to her. “We get a lot of snow in the winter—lake effect we call it. It’s strange to think about snow so early but, in case you’re worried, Randy usually has the place plowed. We’ll work something out to keep your driveway cleared.”
Grace studied her fingers, knit together on her lap. She ducked her head and looked at him out of the corner of her eye in a way that made his toes curl. “I didn’t know that. It’s, um, well, nice, to think that far ahead.”
As he gazed around the yard it occurred to him that the holiday season approached, too, along with the snow. He was able to be detached at this point, as if Christmas was something he could choose to have happen or not as he saw fit. Past Christmases had been dull for Eddy with only him and Randy for company, although the poor kid didn’t really know the difference. This year, though, kids in school were bound to compare.
“What’s ‘lake effect’?” Grace asked, bringing him back to the present.
Ted stretched his legs out straight and crossed his ankles. “Lake effect snow storms happen because we live so close to Lake Michigan. The air picks up extra moisture from the lake and dumps it on us. Happens with fog and rain some, too.”
“I can hardly start thinking about next month, let alone winter. Isn’t there a fall in there, somewhere? The weather’s not quite as changeable as home.”
Ted noticed her use of home, but he didn’t think she was aware of it. Unless she wanted to relay some subtle message, like she wasn’t planning on experiencing a Michigan winter. Maybe he’d never learn to listen right to a woman.
“It’s not as hot, either,” she was saying now. “The breeze is nice here. Does it trouble you, to feel the change in the weather like that—physically, I mean?” She tucked the skirt underneath her and clasped her knees with her arms. He envied her comfortable suppleness.
“Not so much anymore.” He flexed his leg, bending the knee and swiveling it from his hip. “It seems to be better these days. It’s good to be able to walk around easier. Swimming has helped quite a lot.” He watched his son cavorting in the yard.
“Do you,” Grace asked, emphasis on the you, “need to take Eddy shopping, or anything, for school? Kindergarten starts in two weeks.”
Ted slid his glaze back over to her, groaning inwardly. Shopping. With a five-year-old. He had no idea what to do. “Um, I haven’t done this before…so I thought we’d look through his clothes later this weekend.” Her legs had taken on a great bronzy tan over the summer. What he wouldn’t give to slide his hands down her smooth calves to her ankles.
Bad Dad!
Lame!
“I brought the supplies list from Miss Jones, his teacher,” he said helpfully, looking up at her. Crayons and folders he could do. He frowned at her stillness. She’d turned into a statue. Why? “You brought it up.”
She took a breath. “Well, I never did this before, either,” she said. “What makes people think any woman just knows what to do with kids? It’s one thing to let Eddy ramble all over my house and to feed him and tell him not to stick his hand inside the wasp nest and read stories to him—” She thrust herself to her feet and paced two tight circles beside him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure there’s plenty of help for you at the stores,” she finally said and abruptly went inside the house.
Ted watched her go, surprised and hurt. “What did I say?” he asked out loud. Grumpy, he struggled to his feet. “Eddy! Time to go home.”
Grace worked out a flexible routine with the Marshalls for Eddy’s care when school began. It left her more hours to herself, something she was not looking forward to. Volunteer positions were limited, and with a natural cut in salary, working the gas station cash register was looking like her next job. She shivered at the thought.
Ted gave her an appointment calendar with his therapy and client appointments. But his next question left her unsettled.
“All right if he shows up in the mornings sometimes to wait for the bus here?” he asked.
“Do you want me to come and walk him over here?” Shows up and five-year-old waiting for a bus didn’t seem like a great sentence combo to her. What did he mean?
He alternately flushed and paled. “It’s just that… I’m pretty uncoordinated in the morning. When Randy’s not there it takes me a while to start moving.” Ted frowned and looked away. He folded his arms defensively over his chest. “I don’t want Eddy to see,” he mumbled.
“Ted…” She’d never told him about her work in Tennessee. Then again, he’d never asked, not like Shelby, who’d earned a very cautious and innocuous reply about her former job. Which no longer hurt to think about. “It won’t be every day.”
Men and their pride. “He’ll need a good breakfast.” He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Maybe he should stay here once in a while when Randy is gone, too.” Short of moving in, what else could she offer without demoralizing the man?
“Maybe.” He shuffled away. “Thanks,” he called over his shoulder.
At some point she should find out more about Ted’s illness, but the days passed and she let it go. Eddy dressed himself in the mornings before the bus came. Occasionally he would come and have breakfast with Grace, but more often he told her he wanted to stay close to his dad. The little guy eventually stayed with her after school to “help” when she needed it. They had dinner together, giving her an excuse to experiment with cooking. Really, she was so glad not to be alone every night. When Ted felt up to it he joined them. Not quite a family but more than simple babysitting. The numbness she’d wrapped around her heart had more than half melted. She no longer stomped on the little bits of love that occasionally escaped in the form of forehead kisses and hugs. Eddy would never replace what she’d lost, but maybe she could make up for what had happened by paying forward a little of her gift. As long as they didn’t know what she could do, and neither of had expectations she was certain she would fail, maybe caring about all of them some would be all right.
The last Saturday in October was chilly. She leaned on her rake in the yard to watch the child whirl among the rain of tie-dyed sunset and old hay-bale-colored leaves fluttering to the lawn. Loving Eddy didn’t make up for what she’d done, of course, but perhaps if she was good and kind and obedient God would forgive her, though she’d never forgive herself. Of that, she was unworthy. She could love them a little, help them to understand that she wasn’t a bad person, that she hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. She closed her eyes. Perhaps he wouldn’t make her—
“Let’s make a scarecrow!” Eddy, smelling of little boy and musty crackling grass jumped into her arms.
“Let’s!”
Eddy helped raid her laundry, looking for an old pair of pants and shirt they could stuff. She dragged out a tattered lawn chair from the garage for their creation.
They studied the figure slumped in the chair.
The child unconsciously copied her usual thinking pose: right leg forward, elbows bent, and hand covering chin and mouth. “He needs a head. My ball!” Eddy raced into the playhouse where they stored the summer toys and came out with an old rubber ball starting to lose its bounce. Grace found a ragged knit cap, which they stretched over it.
“Perfect! Let’s make supper. Race you inside!” She pretended to grab at Eddy who giggled as they ran through the brittle leaves in the yard. They raced up the porch steps.
“Stamp your feet, son!” They left their damp shoes at the door and went inside to the light and warmth of he
r cozy kitchen.
Ted stumbled in at dark. She heard the hesitant footfalls on her front porch, turned on the light, and met him at the door. His expression needed only one look before she turned to distract Eddy with her computer. She quickly found some children’s games and set him down before it, ignoring his wide-eyed wonder. The computer had been off limits before.
“Let’s see if you can beat my score,” Grace gushed out. He complied for once without question.
Ted had made it through the living room and grabbed at the entrance to the kitchen with a shaky hand. “Hey…there, Eddy.” He lurched with the next step he took. “I think I need…”
She grabbed him before Eddy saw his near tumble and led him to her room, struggling mightily with his tall frame to direct him down the hallway and angle him across the bed. She deftly pulled the cover back before he landed, making the bedstead creak. His shoulders settled in slow motion and she waited while he adjusted to being prone. When she knew he wouldn’t be sick all over her bed, she gently untied his boots and lifted his emaciated legs, accidentally coming into contact with his skin above the socks. A familiar tingle began along the webbing between her thumb and forefinger and she pulled quickly away, breathing hard and fast. How could she have forgotten? So far away from Woodside… She’d never tested the gift, of course, but assumed it wouldn’t work here. Definitely didn’t want it to. No…she’d never try it, for she would surely fail. There were other ways to take care of him. She had the knowledge—she could always use her training without the gift.
Ted moved restlessly, hissing in a breath. “I don’t know if your hands are warm or cold,” he rasped.
There was no alcohol smell on his breath; nothing else strange to indicate this behavior. Perhaps a reaction to medication? Some sort of stroke? What had happened? “What’s going on? Did you take something?”
“Nothing I shouldn’t.” He flashed a half-grin. “So tired. I forgot to eat lunch.”
Healing Grace Page 6
