by Ginny Aiken
Scott nodded. “You could use it as a nursery some day … well, since it’s near the big bedroom.”
They both fell silent. The topic was an awkward one for Debbie to reply to. She bent to gather her tools. Scott started collecting bits and pieces of leftover paper.
“I need to apologize,” he said suddenly.
Debbie jerked her head up, confused by his train of thought.
“I shouldn’t have gotten upset about the surveying and fencing.”
Debbie sighed as she began to realize where the conversation was going.
“You were right,” he continued. “We are neighbors and a fence doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends. Does it?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course not!”
“Good.” He visibly relaxed. “Friends.” He stuck out his hand.
She tentatively placed her smaller hand within his grasp and watched his fingers engulf her own. His hand felt warm and safe.
“A good job done deserves good food. I’ve got a German chocolate cake ready,” Grandma said from behind them. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Grandma smiled, turning away.
Scott pulled away slowly while his gaze stayed on Debbie’s face. “I would welcome some of that cake, Maxie.” He took large steps to catch up with the older woman and embraced her in a bear hug.
“Thank you for helping with the papering job,” Grandma said, patting the man’s face.
“Anything for my gal.”
Debbie looked on and once again felt left out of their circle. The old nagging returned to warn her that Scott had no real reason to be friendly and helpful to her if it wasn’t for her grandmother. The warmth that had so recently encompassed her now turned to a chill of self-doubt.
Chapter 7
First thing Tuesday morning, Coach Conner caught up to Debbie in an empty hallway.
“Well, the season’s over,” he said with a distinct note of sadness. “Sure didn’t end like I would have liked, but we played good ball.”
Debbie smiled and nodded. She hated to admit that she hadn’t kept up with the baseball team’s record.
“So, how about Friday?”
“Friday?” Debbie asked.
“Yea, our date. We can get some eats and see a movie,” he said, bumping her shoulder with his beefy one. “Not much else going on in our little town this time of year.”
Debbie reminded herself that she had basically made a promise last week and nodded her consent. “What time?”
“Better make it six,” Jeff Conner said and strutted off toward the gym.
Friday came quickly after a week of heavy workload. She had a new wave of SAT and ACT test scores to consult with students about. She counseled with a frantic senior girl who was fearful of not getting into college that fall due to a poor test standing. Then Friday led to some tearful good-byes as the seniors completed their last day of classes. The week had drained Debbie’s energy and she longed to close herself up at home for an evening of relaxation.
But Coach Conner was at her door promptly at 6:00 with his 4x4 running along the curb. He treated her to a heavy meal of steak and potatoes at the Texas-style steakhouse. Jeff, as he asked to be called, was warm and friendly, but his favorite line of conversation centered on sports of any variety. Debbie had very little to contribute on the subject.
It was raining after dinner as Jeff kindly helped Debbie up into his large 4x4, then he ran through the list of their movie options.
“Can I request that the movie not be rated R?” Debbie asked.
They agreed upon a comedy with a military setting. It spawned some laughs from Debbie, but she was disappointed in the use of foul language. Glad to see the movie end and aching from the tired strain, Debbie declined Jeff’s offer for a nightcap of coffee and doughnuts.
She had him pull up along the side of the house since her key only fit the back door. Jeff hurried around to help her out. She would have preferred ending the evening at the truck, but Jeff took her arm and slowly strolled her through the wet grass up to the porch steps.
“I had a great time,” Jeff said. “We should do this again.”
Debbie searched for the right words that would let him down gently. She didn’t see any point in repeating a date with him. He was a sweet guy, but he didn’t show any clear signs of being a Christian, they had little in common, and it just plain didn’t feel right. Her gaze drifted to the glow from Scott’s front window.
Jeff leaned closer, and Debbie turned in time to offer her cheek for a quick peck.
“Howdy all!” came a loud intrusion.
Debbie was shocked to hear Scott’s voice coming from her darkened porch. “Gran, are you there?” she asked.
“No,” Scott answered, “Maxie has already gone to bed. It’s getting late.” He stepped out to where the glow of the street lamp illumined his rigid posture; the porch swing swayed in the shadows.
“Is this your brother, Deb?” Jeff asked congenially.
Scott smirked.
Debbie seethed at Scott’s smug attitude. He stood with arms crossed as if he were her personal bodyguard. “Jeff, this happens to be my neighbor, Mr. Robillard. He was only here to check on my grandmother and was on his way home.”
Scott stood planted on the top porch step.
Jeff looked back and forth between Scott and Debbie. Debbie shifted nervously under the scrutiny of the two men.
“Listen …” Jeff stammered as he backed away, “I didn’t know … I’ll see you on Monday, Deb. Have a great weekend.” He hurried to his truck and drove away.
Debbie stood in the grass, the dampness seeping through her flat suede shoes.
“Seems like a friendly guy,” Scott said.
“Do you often spy on your neighbors’ comings and goings?” Debbie retorted. She really didn’t mind that Jeff’s display of affection had been cut short, but she resented the fact that Scott was prying into her business. He blocked the way up the porch steps, so she remained in the yard.
“I didn’t mean …” Scott stopped. He was forced to admit to himself that he had purposefully lingered on the porch after coffee with Maxie, knowing that Debbie was out and expected home soon. He had been interested in learning what kind of man appealed to Debbie and whether this relationship had depth that would threaten the future he had hoped he might someday have with her.
“You’re right,” he finally continued, “I shouldn’t have dallied on your porch, and I should have revealed myself sooner. Please accept my apologies and convey them to your friend.” Now would have been a good time for him to head home, but he couldn’t find the will to move.
He looked down at Debbie where she shifted in discomfort. He watched as her gaze swung around the darkened yard, where long shadows had transformed the inviting backyard into a place of mysterious qualities.
“I hope you had a nice evening,” he said on impulse.
She stared up at him in silence.
“You deserve to be shown …” he paused, then rambled on, “the love of a good man.”
Her eyes widened.
Scott stepped carefully down the steps and passed Debbie. “Good night.” The word came out like a whisper.
She didn’t change her rigid posture until he was a safe distance across the black expanse of soggy lawn. Then she went directly inside. Scott plodded home under dripping tree limbs; his shoulders dropped in defeat. One step of progress with Debbie always seemed to be met by a step back in the wrong direction. He was getting nowhere moving cautiously. Perhaps he should follow his pounding heart, rush in, and expose his true feelings.
Or, perhaps it was time to get back on his knees and talk with the Instructor.
Debbie stepped into the quiet house and felt her breathing start to settle back to a steady pace. She put the lock in place and peeked out the curtained window in the door. She couldn’t explain why she felt so angry with Scott or why his words of kindness moved her to speechlessness. Nothing was making sense anymore, and something had to change.
&nb
sp; She turned into the darkened kitchen and for the first time realized Grandma was sitting at the empty table.
“Gran, I didn’t know you were still up.”
“Why can’t you see it, Dandy girl?”
“See what?”
“Are you afraid of him?”
“Afraid of Scott? Of course not,” Debbie quickly retorted.
“Why won’t you let Scott show you how much he loves you?” Gran asked another question without directly addressing Debbie.
Debbie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She pulled a chair out from the table and sank onto it. “Gran, Scott is your friend. He has often been kind to me, but he is not interested … in romance,” she choked out.
“Dandy, I always considered you to be one of my brightest grandchildren.”
Debbie frowned at her.
“That man’s face plainly displays his fondness for you.”
Debbie shook her head. “You may want it to be that way. Has he said something about it?”
“Well, no, but he hasn’t had to. I know you both well and can see things that you are not willing to,” Grandma stated. “And, I know you care for him, too.”
Debbie shifted uncomfortably. “Gran,” she framed her words gently, “you care for us both, and I think you have let your desire to see something happen between Scott and me cloud your judgment. There is nothing between us and there is no reason why there should ever be.”
“God,” Grandma said quietly.
“What?”
“God is in both of your lives and He knows each of your needs.”
“Yes, Gran, but it doesn’t mean He wants us together.” Debbie toyed with her fingers nervously. “I don’t even know if we have anything in common.”
“Your faith is the best thing to have in common,” Grandma insisted.
“Have you talked with Scott about this?”
“No,” Grandma spoke honestly.
“Have you encouraged him in anyway toward a relationship with me?”
Grandma fidgeted on the hard seat. “Well, I might have contrived the garden mishap. I mean,” she paused and smiled, “I encouraged you to place the garden where I was sure you would get into Scott’s yard. I knew you would have to meet and solve the problem together. It worked until you had to go and clearly point out the proper boundaries that haven’t been considered for at least forty years.” Grandma sounded like she was getting herself worked up. “Then I admit to trying to place you two together for meals and projects whenever feasible, but I have never uttered a word to sway either of you until now.” Grandma leaned back in the chair having had her say.
Debbie went directly to her window retreat after leaving the kitchen. What am I missing? A guy who had his life in perfect order like Scott couldn’t be interested in her. She couldn’t even juggle her tumbling emotions. It is like I haven’t learned from the mistakes of childhood. I have let myself get stuck on one guy and have placed all my expectations on him. I just know he is going to disappoint me.
Sure he will.
Only the Lord is constantly there for me.
She talked back and forth to a small voice within her. Her conscience or the Holy Spirit, she wasn’t ready to say. She was only assured that the answer would be found in prayer. She reached onto her desk for the Bible she had regrettably not touched all week.
She read and prayed in the glow of an antique-styled lamp until well after midnight. She fell into bed with a certainty that she was loved. Her heavenly Father loved her more than anyone else could. He had her best interests in consideration. She would wait on His lead.
It would not be easy, but first thing in the morning, Debbie knew she had to apologize to Scott. She had let her own insecurities and fears have authority over her actions. If there really was something to Scott’s affection, as Grandma had said, then maybe Debbie was too afraid to acknowledge it. No matter what the future held, she had a past to right.
Chapter 8
Debbie fixed another cup of tea and dressed it up with sugar and cream. She kept her vigil at the kitchen window, looking out at the backyard. The evening’s rain had given this Saturday morning a clean, polished shine. The day promised many wonders, but Debbie was only intent on one thing, one person.
Watching her neighbor’s back door reminded her of when she had been just eight years old and spending the fall weekend with her grandparents. She had joined a group of mischievous children who thought they could prove themselves as grown up as the teenagers if they successfully toilet papered a tree. The Robillards’ tree was chosen only for the fact that it was in a side yard that was quickly obscured by evening shadows. The children accomplished their task before bedtime and parted feeling proud.
But Grandma had been wise to Debbie’s whereabouts. She dropped casual questions and soon Debbie was crying out her story, no longer the brave little vandal.
The next morning Grandma marched Debbie to the Robillards’ back door and Debbie had apologized to Mrs. Robillard. She spent over an hour gathering all the paper she could reach and had plenty of time to think.
None of the other children involved had been reprimanded, even though Debbie had willingly given up the names of her partners. Grandma and Mrs. Robillard had chosen not to pursue the issue and none of the other children came forward on their own. Debbie had cleaned the yard alone, and Mr. Robillard had kindly finished what she could not.
It was a lesson that she would long remember. The labor involved in cleaning the yard was nothing compared to the disappointment Debbie had witnessed in the eyes of the adults she cared greatly for. She valued her relationships and now she had unwillingly driven a wedge between herself and her new neighbor. She never meant to hurt Scott, but her defense mechanism kept throwing darts.
Her gaze was drawn to movement at Scott’s garage. He ambled into the backyard carrying a hoe. She watched as he checked over his rhododendron bush, cleaning off the fading blossoms. With slow, deliberate steps, he made his way to the garden plot and gradually circled the perimeter. He stopped at the young tomato plants and gently cut around the base of each with his hoe.
His fluid movements mesmerized Debbie. She watched until the tomatoes were finished, and Scott moved on to tiny heads of green weeds between the rows of newly sprouting lettuce and beets. She collected her composure and left the house.
Scott looked up at Debbie’s approach but continued his work down the row. Debbie stopped at the grape arbor and examined the tiny leaves sprouting from the mature vines. Was it painful when those buds burst open?
Scott zipped through the remainder of the row and was soon only a couple of steps from Debbie’s side. He leaned back and stretched with exaggerated movements. “Beautiful day,” he bellowed.
Debbie watched him carefully … shyly.
Suddenly Scott was actively cleaning his shoes and hoe of dirt and talking at a rapid pace. “What are you doing this afternoon? Wouldn’t this be a great day for a picnic? There are still trees in bloom over at Tuscora Park. We should take some time to enjoy it.”
Where was Debbie’s voice? Was this a display of Scott’s affection or an attempt to apologize for his spying behavior of the night before? She couldn’t interpret the signs. Now what do I do, Lord?
“I have some paperwork I should get done, but perhaps Gran would enjoy some time out,” Debbie offered.
“Ah, leave Maxie out of this. Saturday is her day to go and play with the old girls. They’ll either be shopping, playing dominoes, or pigging out at a buffet,” Scott refuted. “Call it a time-out or call it a date, but I’d like to treat you to a playful afternoon.”
Debbie was shocked. Scott was talking so fast that she didn’t have time to react. He sounded like he had had a caffeine overload. Silently she searched for a proper response.
“Okay,” he said after pausing a moment. “You can do your paperwork this morning, then I’ll pick you up around four. We’ll have an early picnic dinner by the pond and enjoy the evening there. It is predicted
to be quite pleasant this evening.” His broad smile left no room for arguments.
Debbie nodded mutely, no longer trying to speak. Saying something now might spoil the moment, and she didn’t trust her voice.
“Don’t worry about the garden,” Scott instructed. “I’ll pulverize these weeds in no time while you take care of your personal business.” He stepped back into the garden soil and attacked a new row. Though his movements were energetic, he was careful to avoid the area where seeds of green beans were still sprouting.
When Scott said no more and she still had no thought to voice, she drifted back to the house. She avoided going directly in and walked around the side yard to the front porch. There were some families out working in yards. A father and son were washing their minivan across the street.
The sun thoroughly warmed Debbie and her mind pictured Scott in the backyard. She still couldn’t figure out what had overcome Scott to behave so radically, but perhaps this was a sign from God that she should give a relationship with Scott a chance.
It wasn’t quite how she had desired to be approached by her knight in shining armor. Her knight would have wooed her with sweet words and romantic gifts. Scott was riding in on a charger and expecting her to canter alongside. But out of the two, she knew that Scott was the one she could be friends with, and friendship was the best place to start a romance.
By four Scott had pulled his Buick around to the front of Debbie’s house. She watched from the window as his feet danced up the walk.
Grandma had stayed curiously in the background all day, and Debbie was able to accomplish a surprising amount of bills, laundry, and cleaning. Grandma left around two with a group of five friends and Debbie had the whole house to herself. She had taken care to pick a comfortable, but attractive casual outfit for the evening. Her navy twill slacks were creased and slimming while her lightweight cardigan covered a wide-necked T-shirt of baby blue.
Scott appeared to have a little better rein on his enthusiasm and met her with a playful grin. Completely the gentleman, he helped her into her side of the car before taking his place behind the wheel. He filled the ten-minute drive to the park with mostly one-sided conversation about the weather and the community.
