Chapter Sixteen
Sister Cole had given me some things to think about. I rode my bike to work that afternoon without the normal mp3 distraction, so that I could think about hope. It was the last day of class for this group. As I gave them their final swim test and filled out their certificates, I pondered. Many of the kids gave me hugs as they left and thanked me. It was always rewarding to help them learn something that I enjoyed so much.
Looking at the Idaho countryside on the way home, I could see beauties everywhere. There was certainly a lot of evidence for hope if I looked hard enough for it, but my hurts were still there, even if I was feeling them less lately.
I pulled on my sweats for sleeping and grabbed my scriptures, quietly exiting the teenage domain of Rebekah. She was in a heated debate with her friend Katie about a ‘he said she said’ thing that had happened at school. The sitting room with the fireplace was surprisingly quiet given the house’s usual liveliness. I sat on the end of the couch nearest the lamp, tucked my legs underneath myself, and opened my D&C.
I hadn’t quite gotten out of the habit of chronological study. It just made so much more sense to me when I could place things in their context, but I had just recently studied the D&C in class so I felt a little more aware and able to pick and choose. For some reason, I opened to section 121.
My habit of daily scripture reading was only three years old and some nights it still turned into the obligatory chapter. During my darker months this winter, I had stopped reading all together. I was still trying to reestablishing the habit.
The front door opened as I finished my prayer. It must be Mark coming home from work. He had begun a full time schedule of shifts at the nursing home in the neighboring town, the first week we were back. Perking up, I realized that I had missed him so much this last week.
He must have found the house unusually quiet as well because he began a room by room search. Passing through the kitchen, he spotted me and came over. I smiled up at him. Seeing my scriptures and being unwilling to break the odd quiet, he whispered, “Where is everyone?”
“Rebekah is in her room on the phone.” He rolled his eyes at that news. “And I think everyone else is down in the family room watching a movie,” I said, pointing through the floor to the basement. He nodded his head quietly and backed out of the room.
I guessed he was going down to join them. I wanted to follow him, but my reading times had been so erratic lately with all the family hustle and bustle. I really needed to discipline myself. Still, with Mark home, it was harder. I liked his company. I tried not to make deals with myself about speeding up so that I could join them. That would just reward my hurried study. Looking back down at my scriptures, I began to read.
Heavy breathing stole my attention. It was Mark, changed out of his scrubs and carrying his scriptures. He was all breathless apparently from his speedy change. His smile was brilliant as I looked at him, puzzled. “Can I join you? Where are you reading?” He was walking forward now not waiting for a response. He climbed into the chair positioned under the same lamp with a sigh.
“Tough day?” I could see now that he looked very tired.
“Tough, but good.” He answered then removed his triple from its case still closely looking at my scriptures for where to turn.
I woke up mentally at that point and gave him the reference. “I am in D&C 121, you know, Liberty Jail.” He quickly turned to the chapter and I could see that he was still using his mission scriptures because the markings were extensive. My own scriptures were only occasionally marked, except for my Book of Mormon that I had marked for a religion class.
He looked up at me. “How do you want to do this?” I motioned for him to read and he began. He read until the end of verse 10 and I spoke up.
“Poor Joseph,” I said. This frequently quoted verse always made me feel bad for him. “The last thing I would want to be told in my pain and suffering was that I should deal because someone else had it much worse. There is always someone who has it worse, but that doesn’t change that you are still hurting.”
Mark looked at me, carefully listening to what I was saying. He more intently leaned over his scriptures and said with enthusiasm, “But Megan you have missed verse 7.” I quickly reread the verse and looked puzzled up at him. He read it out loud and then commented. “See it says ‘My son, peace be unto thy soul’.”
Hearing the word peace spoken with the emphasis that Mark placed upon it, I finally understood. In all my years of hearing this scripture, I had given it the most mundane meaning. I had assumed it was Heavenly Father's way of calming down Joseph so that he could talk; the same way a parent might say ‘listen’. But my understanding changed with that one word. When the Lord offers peace it is very real and Joseph must have received some instant comfort from the Holy Ghost. Tears filled my eyes as I saw God’s love and power in that simple line. I tried not to look up into Mark’s waiting face. “Oh, I get it,” I softly said.
We continued to read on, but I still felt awed by this personal revelation. I was having my own moment of peace and the feelings of God’s love were almost overwhelming.
My reflective moments came to a stop as we heard the family noisily ascending the stairs. The movie must be over. We hastily finished the last couple of verses and he put his scriptures away. Before I closed mine, I took my red pencil and highlighted verse 7. The family walked into the kitchen just as I was zipping up my case. “There you two are,” came the booming voice of Brother Cole. “Want to join us for root beer floats?”
Broad smiles spread across our faces and we nodded our heads. I said, “That sounds great! They’re my favorite.” Reaching in to turn off the lamp, my hand met Mark’s under the shade. He apparently had the same impulse. He moved his hand aside to allow me to turn the switch and gently ran his finger over the back of my hand. My heart jumped and I felt heat rising in my face. We looked at each other for a moment before the voice of Sister Cole interrupted.
“Mark, could you help me with Micah?” He jumped up to get his brother and I was relieved to be able to breathe normally again.
The loud, friendly, familiar sounds of family surrounded the big wooden table in the dining area. Rebekah had emerged from her room without the phone attached to her ear and the family was complete. I stared around at the faces that had become so dear to me. Each was very different in its appearance, yet they all seemed like they belonged. When I looked at the Coles, I saw family.
Mark was trying to include Micah in the fun even though he couldn’t partake of the floats. A look on the boy’s face as his eyes darted back and forth following the boisterous sounds of the joking conversation. I knew he was seeing what I saw. A warm feeling started to fill me. The peaceful feelings returned and I had to excuse myself for a moment. I went into Rebekah’s room and knelt to thank Heavenly Father for the Coles and for the peace of the Spirit.
When I returned, Brother Cole had just flung his root beer foam at the unsuspecting Christian. It was clear, war was about to break out when Sister Cole piped up with a timely, “bedtime.” The sounds of disappointment rang through the room, as a smile curled on her lips. Brother Cole led the family prayer and then Sister Cole put her arms around Anna and Ruth. “Come on girls, you have school tomorrow.”
They walked off toward the hall. Mark began the process of getting Micah to his room. Since he had been home, Mark had resumed his routine of singing to Micah every night before bed. Sometimes if things had quieted down enough, I could hear the simple Primary melodies and hymns carrying through the house. Sometimes I even stood outside the door to listen.
Caleb finished in the bathroom and I went in to brush my teeth. On my way out, I ran into Mark who was placing the bulky wheelchair in the entryway where it would stay for the night. He touched me lightly on the arm as he headed back to the boys room. Pausing, he said, “Don’t go to bed yet.”
He looked so serious, but as he walked through the door, he was all smiles and jokes. I lingered in the h
all a few moments to hear him sing. He started with ‘Love is spoken here.’ I quietly sang the second verse, my favorite, with him. I hoped no one heard. Then, I drifted back to the dining area to start cleaning up. Christian and Brother Cole had already made a big dent in the mess.
I walked into the kitchen with a glass in each hand just in time to catch a splash of water coming from the sink’s spray nozzle aimed at Brother Cole. Christian straightened up quickly and apologized, looking rather guilty.
Normally as a guest in someone’s home, I would never dream of retaliating, but the Coles were beginning to feel like family. I calmly walked over and placed the glasses in the sink. Christian moved out of my way still acting a bit sheepish. Brother Cole had gone quiet and was busy wiping down the counter, he seemed to feel a bit guilty too. This would be my chance to catch them off guard.
In one motion, I grabbed the spray nozzle, spun around, and squirted Christian before he could react. Brother Cole burst out with a laugh and Christian grabbed my arm trying to aim the spray at me. We were laughing and spraying water everywhere.
When Mark walked in, Christian was behind me with his arms around me trying to grab the hose. I was trying my best to keep it from him, but the boy was strong. I had at least stopped the water flow so that the mess wouldn’t get any worse. Mark raised an eyebrow in my direction and it was my turn to look sheepish. Sister Cole walked in behind Mark and went out again. She was probably upset by the mess. I should have followed my manners lessons after all.
“No, Christian. You are doing it all wrong,” Mark said, rushing toward the nozzle. Before I figured out what was happening, I was beaten. There was no hope when they combined against me. It reminded me of the twins; that was one of their favorite tactics. Sister Cole returned with towels and a smirk on her face. Thankfully, she didn’t seem upset. We each got a towel and started to clean up our mess. Brother Cole was rescued from the scene by Sister Cole grabbing his hand. She stretched up to kiss his cheek and led him from the room.
Down on our hands and knees mopping up the water, I looked up from my task to find Mark looking at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and he grinned. Christian kept trying to swat me and Mark with his wet towel. Mark gave him an authoritative glare and Christian stopped.
When the mess was mopped up, Mark sent Christian packing with a promise that he would play a game of one on one with him Saturday morning. “I thought we could take a walk?” He said it in a tone of asking permission. Looking down at my soaked clothes, I debated, but it was a nice night and I really wanted to go.
“Sure, I can’t think of a better way to dry off.” With that, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up from the floor, and we went to the entry to put on our shoes. Mine were at the bottom of the pile. Were there really that many feet in this house?
“Back later,” he called to his parents who were snuggling on the living room couch. He guided me out the front door with his hand on the small of my back. I felt a burst of joy to feel it there and I tried to check myself. This was one thing that hadn’t gotten easier since I had come to the Coles. Now more than ever I craved Mark’s company.
The sun was starting to set and the rural street wasn’t really well lit. I began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Mark closed the door and came up behind me. He slipped his hand into mine. I liked it so much, I gave up fighting it for the moment. Looking up into his face, I saw a question, ‘Is this okay?’ I gave him a genuine smile and hoped I knew what I was doing.
We walked for a while in silence. Then he sighed. “So work was tough? What happened? Want to talk about it?” I asked, curious about his mood and to find out what had made him decide to be so affectionate. Work seemed like a good place to start.
“One of the men I take care of is dying.” My shoulders hunched as he spoke. “He has been sick for a long time. His family has started coming from all over to say their last goodbyes. I guess talking to him and his family has just made me a little melancholy. It is just so sad, the wasted time. Do you know that some of them haven’t seen him for ten years?”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” I was anxious to help him as he had always helped me.
“It just made me think. I’m great now.” He squeezed my hand. “Scripture study with you was just what I needed.”
“I needed it too. You helped me understand better.”
He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, changing his mind. The mood was so serious and I was in danger of snuggling into his arm, so to lighten it, I poked him in the ribs and blurted out, “What?”
He took the bait and I started to run away to escape his reaching hands. His long legs caught me a little faster than I expected and he pulled me close to him in a hug. I was out of breath and confused. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful and yet my old problems were still there.
“You really shouldn’t run down a country road in the dark,” he said, in a mock seriousness and then his voice changed. “And you should never run away from me.”
I shook my head, sad that this wonderful moment had to end so soon. “It sounds wonderful, but it won’t work. I couldn’t ask you to give up….” I trailed off, fighting back tears, defeated. I tried to pull myself away from him, my head down. I’d been fooling myself; this wasn’t getting any easier. It was always going to hurt.
He held me tightly in his grasp. “What’s this? I thought you were finally understanding.” With his hand, he lifted my chin so that he could look into my eyes, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. There was so much I wanted, and sadly, so much that I couldn’t have.
He continued, “Okay, that’s it.” He dragged me off the road and sat me down under a nearby tree. Sitting himself beside me, he huffed. “Andy is my friend, but frankly he is an idiot.” My eyes went wide. What was he saying?
“I don’t understand,” I had never heard Mark say a bad word about anyone, especially his best friend.
He reached across and grabbed my hands. “I have wanted to say that for a long time,” he said with a sigh. “You are so great, anyone who would let you go is… well, an idiot.”
“But Andy was right. It isn’t fair to ask anyone to give up children for me.”
“Megan, did my parents give anything up?” he asked me in a frustrated tone.
“Your family is wonderful. I love being here with them, but that doesn’t change the fact that…” I started to protest. He reached up and stopped my lips with his fingers.
“My parents have built a family differently than most, but that doesn’t make it any less precious. I tend to think that is makes it more precious. Where would I, or any of my brothers and sisters, be without them? They have given us a family for eternity. I could pick this life in a heartbeat. Could you?”
Swallowing hard, I tried to think about how I really felt. Something had been changing in me for some time. Something had been…healing. I knew that healing had come from the Lord and his answers. He answered me through Christy, Mr. Wallace, my dad and this wonderful family. Was Mark really offering me acceptance? Did I dare let go of the walls that had been building this year and let myself be loved? I cried while Mark stroked the back of my hand and waited for me to get it all out.
“I love you, Megan,” he said in an almost whisper. “It has been painful to watch your light go out. But I am sure that I see it lit again and getting brighter. Please let me be there to watch you glow again.”
My crying redoubled, but I was smiling through my tears. He drew me in close to him and I cried on his shoulder, leaving a huge wet spot on his shirt. Pulling my face away with an apologetic look I said, “Sorry about your shirt.”
“Yeah, I know you were just trying to get back at me for the water fight in the kitchen,” he said with a grin.
He was good at making me laugh and I wiped the tears off my face. He reached out and grabbed my chin in his hand again. This time he pulled my face closer to his and gently his lips touched mine. My shoulder relaxed and I nearly melted into a gooey
puddle on the ground.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping that he would hear all the meaning behind those simple words. My soul sighed in contentment, as I shook off the terror of being lonely that had haunted me. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way.
We walked home hand in hand and I worked hard at wiping my swollen eyes clear. Hopefully Mark’s parents wouldn’t still be in the living room when we entered. The porch light was welcoming us home. I was sure that once we were in the bright light again, I would look a mess and he would look as wet as I still was from the kitchen battle.
He stopped me just before we reached the halo of light that emanated from the porch. Facing me, he reached up and brushed my hair where it had fallen on my face. Then he leaned in and kissed me just as gently as before. This time I wasn’t surprised and I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back. “You snuck up on me again,” I whispered.
He smiled, “It’s all about timing and patience.”
When we walked in it wasn't late, but the living room was empty. Sister Cole still had one more day of seminary. Reluctantly we said goodnight. Things may be new and different, but tomorrow we still had to go to work.
Trying to be quiet, I climbed into my sleeping bag on the floor. “You really like Mark don’t you?” Rebekah wasn’t asleep yet.
I laid there all tucked in and wondered how to respond. I brushed my lips with my fingers, smiling. “I like him very much.”
“Good!” Rebekah said with a yawn.
It was a while before I fell asleep. My mind wouldn’t settle down. I was busy thinking about healing, peace, acceptance, love, and Mark.
Collecting Smiles Page 16
