A Mother's Gift (Love Inspired)

by James, Arlene

  “That ought to do.”

  Suddenly she found her back against the rough cedar siding.

  “What—”

  Before she could get out another word, he was kissing her!

  After the initial shock of it, Dixie plastered herself against the house, but to deny that she participated in some way in that kiss would have been as impossible as denying the shivers that his unexpected kiss evoked or the tiny moan that escaped her when the kiss gentled and his hands tenderly cupped her face. Before breaking the kiss, however, he caged her with a hand planted on either side of her shoulders.

  “Now,” he said, pausing to inhale deeply, “we’ve established the first of two important facts.”

  “Which is?” Dixie croaked, clearing her throat afterward.

  “That I am a blind man. Emphasis on the word man.”

  Dixie was, to her shame, all too aware of Important Fact Number One.

  “The second is that I do not appreciate and will not tolerate being treated like a handicapped child.” He brought his nose up right next to hers and added, “Especially by a beautiful woman, which brings us right back to the first point, I believe.”

  Flustered, Dixie blurted the first thought that came to mind. “Don’t think you can charm me. You don’t even know what I look like!”

  “Oh, but I do. My mother went out of her way to point you out to me before I enlisted. And one of the last things I saw before I lost my sight was a picture of you and Clark.”

  “What?”

  “Mom sent it to me in a letter. I don’t know who took it, but it was you in a hospital bed, wearing a pink top and holding your new baby.”

  Dixie caught her breath. She knew the exact photo he meant. She had insisted on brushing her hair, applying some lipstick and putting on a pink sweater to hide her hospital gown before the photo was snapped.

  “Bess took it,” she whispered.

  “I had that photo and her letter in my pocket when we hit the IED,” Joel revealed softly before pushing away from her. “So don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He tapped his temple with one finger. “It’s right here,” he said. “And it always will be.”

  With that, he turned and left her, walking back the way they’d come. Only when he reached the end of wall did he reach out to orient himself, and then he rounded the corner and disappeared.

  Tears sprang into Dixie’s eyes. Though whether they were from watching Joel navigate blindly, that kiss or something else entirely, she didn’t know.

  She did know that she had wanted Mark in the picture that day, but he had taken a phone call instead, insisting that Bess take the shot without him. It hadn’t seemed at all momentous at the time, but now…

  Now, she had to wonder just what God was doing.

  Chapter Four

  Flipping through the television channels, Dixie sighed. One hundred and seventeen stations and she couldn’t find a decent thing to watch. She supposed she might as well get ready for bed, not that she was sleepy by any means. The doorbell rang just as she got to her feet.

  Puzzled as to who would be calling, Dixie went to take a cautious peek through the spy hole in her door. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Joel Slade standing on her sheltered doorstep. Her first thought was that he might be in trouble. What, after all, was a blind man doing out at night? Not that it was all that late. Frowning, she realized that she was discrediting him again, which still left her wondering why he was here. Then she thought of that kiss today. Of course. He must feel as bad about that now as she felt about the way she’d treated him earlier in the week. She opened the door.

  “I know you’re not lost.”

  One corner of his lips curled up, exposing the long, deep dimple in his cheek. “Can I come in?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Sorta the point,” he said with a quick grin.

  He carried his white cane extended to its full length and used it to find the threshold and step over it. At that point, she took his arm as she had seen his mother do, her own forearm paired with his.

  “Here, let me help. I know you can manage, but this will be faster.”

  “Thank you.” He pushed a button, collapsing the cane. “For the vote of confidence as well as the assistance.”

  She led him across the small foyer and into the spacious den, aware that he was counting steps. “How did you get here?”

  He stopped, chuckling. “You’ve never heard of taxis? Or cell phone’s with voice dial?”

  “Ah.”

  “Great inventions, taxis and voice dial. I understand they’ve been around quite a while.”

  She laughed. “Okay, okay. I get the point.” They proceeded on to the velvet-covered armchair that was her favorite. “Have a seat.”

  Watching him maneuver around to discover the chair and get himself into it, she backed up a few steps to the matching sofa and perched on the edge of the cushion. They sat in silence for several seconds before Dixie decided that she was being a poor hostess.

  “I know you’ve come here to apologize,” she said, “but it’s not nec—”

  “For what?” he interrupted. “That kiss?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, if you’re expecting an apology on that account, you’ve got a long wait coming. If anyone owes anyone an apology, you owe me. You weren’t just condescending that day in the park, you were downright rude.”

  She opened her mouth to argue. Unfortunately, he was absolutely right. “I—I don’t know what came over me that day. I have no excuse for my behavior, really. It’s just…I’m not sure why, but you tend to make me very uncomfortable for some reason.”

  He grinned. “Okay.” Sitting back, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “Excellent, in fact. And another reason I won’t be apologizing for that kiss.”

  Dixie’s jaw dropped. He thought she was attracted to him! Before she could come up with a way to dispute that, he changed the subject.

  “Clark around?”

  “Of course. Where else would he be at this hour?”

  “Can I see him?”

  Surprised, she answered, “He’s asleep.”

  Joel blinked at that. “Goes down kind of early, doesn’t he? Have you even had your dinner yet?”

  “I had dinner over four hours ago.”

  “Four—” He sat bolt upright. “What time is it?”

  Dixie glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Nineteen minutes past nine.”

  Joel slapped his hands to the top of his head before dropping them again to flip open the casing on his wristwatch and feel the dial with his fingers. “Good grief! I owe you an apology, after all. I thought it was just going six when I headed over here. It’s this expensive Braille watch Mom bought me. I’m just not very good at reading it. Oh, man! Losing track of time is one of the worst things about being blind. I guess I need a watch that talks to me, but bless Mom’s heart, she’s done everything humanly possible to help me, and I don’t want to offend her by not using the watch she gave me.”

  “Where is your mom?” Dixie asked sympathetically.

  “Visiting one of my sisters in Oklahoma City. Natalie’s expecting, you know. Should deliver tomorrow by C-section. Mom’s gone to help out with the other two kids. I stayed here to study and keep out of everyone’s way.”

  Dixie hadn’t known about his sister’s pregnancy or much of anything else about his family, but she didn’t say so. She’d thought of Bess only in relation to her own mother and him—or rather, only in relation to herself. It seemed inexcusably self-centered now. She put on a smile, before remembering he couldn’t see it, and asked, “Have you eaten? I can fix you something, if you like.”

  “Oh, I…” He shook his head, but then he smiled ruefully. “To tell you the truth, I was hoping for a meal when I came over here. I still haven’t learned my way around Mom’s kitchen all that well yet. Or any kitchen. I’ve never been much of a cook.”

  Dixie chuckled and rose. “Come on. You can keep me company wh
ile I heat some leftovers. Hope corn chowder and salad appeals. It’s either that or mac and cheese.”

  “My grandma used to make sweet corn chowder,” he said hopefully, getting to his feet.

  “You’re in luck then.” She took his arm again, walked him around an ottoman off to one side and into the kitchen, leaving him at the round table. While she went to the refrigerator to take out the remains of her own dinner, he sat down. She chatted about nothing in particular while she started heating the chowder in the microwave. Then she dished up the salad and set it before him with a fork and napkin.

  He dug right in, pausing after a moment to say, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “A-all right,” she answered tentatively.

  “I’ve been wondering about that very first day in the park. If you didn’t know it was me and you didn’t know I was blind, why were you so shocked?”

  “What makes you think I was shocked?”

  “I heard it, felt it. I just can’t come up with any good reason for it.”

  Dixie tried to decide what and how to tell him. Finally, she chuckled stiltedly. “You’ll think it’s weird.”

  “How so?”

  She stirred the chowder and reprogrammed the microwave. “I—I’d been having this dream.” She realized suddenly that she hadn’t had the dream since first laying eyes on him, though what that might mean she couldn’t imagine. The thick soup finished heating, and she delivered it to the table with a spoon. While he ate, she found herself telling him about the dreams, finishing with, “Then the tree actually fell during that last storm.”

  “Oh, wow. That…that was a couple days before we met in the park, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Yes, it was.”

  He scooped up a couple more bites, before saying, “This is really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Welcome.” He waved his spoon. “Go on with your story. Has to be more to it. I mean, what does it all have to do with me and that first day in the park?”

  Hooking the heels of her hands on the edge of the kitchen counter at her back, Dixie licked her lips. “The thing is, the guy in my dream, well…it was you.”

  He tilted his head and went utterly still for several seconds. Then he dropped the spoon, put both hands flat on the edge of the tabletop and stood.

  For some reason, she gulped and rushed on. “Or someone a lot like you. I-isn’t that funny?”

  He stalked across the room, his hands twitching at his sides as if he fought to keep them there. “Funny? You think that’s funny?” Suddenly, he was right in her face, his hands trapping hers on the edge of the counter. “God all but gives me to you in a dream, and you think it’s a joke?”

  Gives him to her? She gulped. “Dreams aren’t real!”

  “Didn’t say they were. Are you saying God never communicates in dreams?”

  “Not to me!”

  “Bet Joseph thought the same thing, but when God told him in a dream to get up and take Jesus and Mary to Egypt, he did it.”

  “It’s not the same thing!”

  “Explain the tree falling.”

  “I told you, it was the storm.”

  “And God couldn’t have a hand in that, right?”

  She clamped her lips together because she couldn’t argue that point.

  “Okay,” he whispered, sliding his arms around her. “Explain this.”

  Reason told her that the second kiss should be less of a shock, but in its own way it was even more shocking than the first. For one thing, it felt…completely reasonable, as right as her warming up a bowl of chowder for him. For another, there was just no way not to participate. She could no more not put her arms around him than she could not let her heart beat. Worst of all, it was the warmest, most delightful thing she’d experienced in far, far too long.

  Was Joel right then? Was this, was he, what God intended for her?

  She thought of the accident, of the way Mark had cartwheeled through the air, of waking in the hospital amazed to be alive and hoping, assuming, that he had also survived. If she could, why couldn’t he? It wasn’t fair that he had not survived.

  Twisting away from Joel, she caught her breath, gasping, “This can’t be! God wouldn’t let Mark die, only to give me a handicapped husband.”

  The instant the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back. Joel backed away from her, shaking his head.

  “Really? That’s all you’ve got to say about it?” He thumped himself in the chest. “I may be handicapped, but I don’t need you to take care of me, Dixie! And that’s not what your problem is. You know what your real problem is? You don’t trust God. You know the same as I do that we should be falling in love and getting married, but you’re afraid to trust God with your future. That’s what this is. So don’t try to throw it back on me, baby!” Whirling on his heel, he marched straight out of the room, right through the open doorway.

  Imagining him stomping all the way across the living room and smack into the wall, she rushed after him, but he turned three steps into the outer room, only to stumble over the ottoman. Righting himself, he went on his way, Dixie anxiously trailing after. Not until he stepped onto the tile of the foyer did he put out his hands.

  “Joel,” she said pleadingly, not at all sure what she was asking for.

  He found the door and located the knob. “And from now on don’t put furniture in the middle of the floor!” he barked. Before she could point out that it wasn’t in the middle of the floor, he yanked open the door, stepped through it and snapped it shut again.

  Dixie looked at that closed door, and something turned over inside her chest. “From now on,” he’d said, which meant that he’d closed that door on her just now but he hadn’t closed it on them. That ought to have incensed or alarmed her, but she couldn’t honestly say how she’d felt about it in that moment. One thing she did feel, however reluctantly, was admiration.

  The man was at a terrible disadvantage, but he just didn’t let it matter. Oh, he made accommodations. He wasn’t so proud that he couldn’t face reality—or so jaded that he didn’t believe in dreams. And despite everything, he had faith—real, solid, unwavering faith, the sort of faith to make her feel small and foolish.

  She heard his voice, and knew that he had probably called the taxi service again, which meant he’d be waiting out there all alone for some time yet. Sighing, she threw up a hand and went to join him.

  Hearing the door open behind him, Joel thanked the dispatcher and got off the phone, stowing it in a pocket of his cargo pants. Handy things for a blind man, cargo pants. Dixie came out and sat down next to him on the single low step that led up to the entry of her house. The door was set back a few feet, providing a covered alcove where callers could wait, a nice arrangement in inclement weather.

  Joel planted his feet and drew up his knees; balancing his forearms atop them, he muttered, “I don’t usually blow my temper like that.”

  A short silence followed, then she asked, “How can you believe we are meant to fall in love?”

  He pushed his hands over his face, and told her, “You have your dream, Dixie, but I have a vision permanently planted inside my head.”

  “The photo, you mean.”

  “It’s more than that,” he said softly. “For years, ever since we moved to Lawton and my mother met your mother, she has believed that you are the girl for me.”

  Dixie snorted gently. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

  “She used to talk about you all the time. She’d say, ‘Dixie will be old enough to car date in a few years,’ and later, ‘Dixie’s as sweet as Vonnie,’ and always, ‘Dixie’s pretty now, but she’ll be beautiful one day.’ Mom sure got that one right. She pointed you out to me once, walking across the church parking lot. You took my breath away. I’d have introduced myself to you then, but you weren’t alone, and I figured that was as it should have been. But then when I saw that photo of you with some other guy’s baby, it broke my heart.” He chuckled ruefully.

  “Joel, I
—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say. It’s nuts. All those years she kept going on about you, I listened and I watched, but I wasn’t exactly waiting around, you know? Seemed like every time you were free, I was dating someone, or you were, but in the back of my mind I always thought there’d come a time when you’d be old enough, I’d call you and we’d go out. Then I enlisted, and you got married, and that was that.”

  “Until you lost your eyesight.”

  “Until I saw that photo,” he corrected. “It was like a punch in the gut. Mom never stopped talking about you, reporting the little details of your life. I wished she wouldn’t sometimes, but mostly I didn’t really think about it. Then I opened that envelope and out dropped that photo, and my whole world just went right out of control. I felt like I’d been robbed. I didn’t even read the letter, just crammed it into my pocket and stared at that picture until it was time to go out on patrol. I meant it when I said you were just about the last thing I ever saw or ever will see, you and Clark.”

  “But would that really have meant anything if you hadn’t lost your eyesight?” she pressed.

  He sighed. “Maybe you’re right and it’s just a blind man’s dream, but I can’t help thinking that God has something to do with it.”

  “To believe that is to believe that I was never supposed to marry Mark,” Dixie refuted firmly, “and I can’t accept that. It would mean that our love was false and Clark should never have been.”

  “I can’t answer that, Dixie,” Joel said quietly. “I’m ashamed to say that when I first heard your husband had died—right after I finally accepted that I was never going to see again—I thought it was some cruel, inhuman joke. I thought, ‘Why now, when I have nothing left to offer her?’ And then I thought, ‘It should’ve been me. I’m the one who should’ve died.’ That’s one of the reasons I asked Mom not to tell you what had happened to me.” He bowed his head.