“Amy,” he whispered against her hand. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Slowly, so slowly, he reached out to touch her face, his fingertips barely touching her cheek, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he pressed too hard. “When did this happen?”
Amy laughed her voice shaky. “About two hours ago.”
Paul gave in to the impulses he’d stifled for the past month, stood up, and with a gentle tug, drew her to her feet. Relishing his right to finally do so, he pulled her close, wrapped his arms all the way around her tightly, holding her against him, rocking slightly, hardly daring to believe she was in his arms. He buried his face in her silky hair. Her arms slipped around his waist, slender but strong. He rubbed his rough cheek against her, nudging her face around until their lips met.
“I love you, Amy Danyluk,” he said against her mouth, his words caressing her lips. And then finally, oh finally, they kissed, long and tenderly, as if each had to catch up to the place their hearts were at this moment. They clung, laughed and kissed again, caught up in the moment, catching up on missed opportunities.
Paul finally drew back, still holding her, his eyes traveling over her face, taking in each beloved feature, touching each with his lips. “I love you,” he repeated, his shoulders lifting in a relieved sigh. “I want to marry you.”
Amy blinked quickly. Then she laughed. “Just like that,” she said, her voice tremulous.
Paul grinned, dropped another kiss on her mouth. “Just like that,” he repeated. “I don’t want to give you too much time as a single girl, you might enjoy your freedom too much.”
“I may as well start bossing you around, then.” Amy pulled away, giving him a gentle push. “You’d better eat. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Paul bent over and gave her another quick kiss. “I’ll live.” But he did as he was told and sat down. He reached across the table to take her hand before he bowed his head in prayer. His heart was full, overflowing and his prayer became an outpouring of thankfulness.
When he was finished he looked up, squeezed her hand. Her head was bent and Paul could see a glint of tears on her cheeks, but a smile on her mouth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dusty handkerchief.
“It’s seen cleaner days, but it’s fairly absorbent,” he said, sensing a need to ease the mood. “And your mascara won’t stain it.”
Amy laughed a shaky laugh and took it from him.
A polite cough from the doorway heralded his mother’s arrival. She entered the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed over an old well-loved sweater, a benevolent smile on her face.
Fred paused a moment in the doorway, surveying the scene with a grin. “So, declarations of undying love all done and over with?”
Paul just smiled back at his father. “We were just getting warmed up.”
Elizabeth emitted a sound that sounded suspiciously like a choked sigh.
“Say something, my dear?” asked Fred.
“Nothing worth repeating.”
Paul looked up at his parents, his heart overflowing with love and peace. Life was good. God was good.
And just because he could, he reached over and stroked Amy’s hair, his hand lingering on her cheek. She smiled back at him, and he thought of all the things he needed to know about her and the plans he wanted to share. It would take weeks to catch up, to reconnect, to establish a new and better relationship.
And the best part was, they had all the time in the world.
The next morning Amy picked up her suitcase and looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She blinked back her tears, frustrated with the fragility of her own emotions. It took so little these days to make her cry.
She sniffed, swallowed, took a breath and turned to leave the room. Paul waited in the hallway and took her suitcase without a word. He preceded her down the stairs, his hair sticking out well below his baseball cap. He needs a haircut, she thought, following him, clutching her cosmetic bag. Paul walked through the living room and shouldered open the front door, allowing Amy to pass him. She paused a moment looking up at him, meeting his blue, blue eyes. He smiled back, and she had to resist the urge to stop and lean against him.
She didn’t want to go.
But there, standing on the step, stood her mother, her strawberry blond hair glinting in the morning sun, her pale gray silk suit hanging elegantly from her slim frame. Elizabeth stood beside her looking like a before picture in her worn sweatshirt and faded blue jeans, her feet hastily shoved into a pair of moccasins.
One had given her life, the other, faith. One had taken care of her as a child, the other as a young girl growing up with too many questions and no one to answer them.
Until now.
Amy had forgotten about her mother’s visit until the shrill ring of the phone had interrupted the Hendersons’ breakfast. Fred had grumbled, said a contracted ‘hello’ then handed it to Amy. Noreen was on the other end calling from Williams Lake, trying to track her down to take her to Vancouver for their planned visit. No one had answered at the home place, and she hadn’t known where else to call. She had come up the night before and stayed at a motel in town. Amy felt she could hardly tell her mother that she didn’t want to go with her, after she had traveled all that way.
It didn’t seem fair, she thought. She and Paul had only been able to spend one night together free from the guilt of other relationships. One night to try to catch up on the past, to discover when and where and how they had first fallen in love with each other.
“There you are, Amy,” Noreen turned to her with a smile. She saw the single suitcase Paul carried. “Is that all your clothes?”
“It’s all I’m packing,” said Amy. Paul and she had made a quick trip to her place after breakfast to get a few more clothes, steal a few more kisses and get back in time for Noreen’s arrival.
She felt the warmth of Paul’s hand on her neck, giving her a proprietary squeeze, and she resisted the urge to turn into his arms, lay her head on his chest. In just the few stolen moments they’d had together, she had discovered one of the things that had been missing from her and Tim’s relationship. The need to connect, to touch and the awareness of the other’s presence. Now she knew exactly how close he stood behind her, how much he wanted to hold her.
“Well, then, I guess we had better get on our way.” Noreen smiled at the group, slipping on her sunglasses. “I’m hoping to make Vancouver before rush hour starts.”
Amy bit her lip remembering too well the snarls of traffic in Vancouver and the cars and trucks whizzing by. She gave Paul a pained look over her shoulder. She wanted to do more, but was restrained by her mother’s presence and the fact that Noreen knew nothing about her and Tim’s broken engagement.
“Have a good time, Amy.” Elizabeth gave her a hug and squeezed her shoulders. “We’ll be thinking of you.” Elizabeth’s blue eyes, so much like her son’s, held Amy’s, as if letting her know that she both understood and approved of the sacrifice Amy made by going with her mother now. She took a step back as Amy walked down the verandah stairs and followed her mother to the car.
“Wait, Amy,” Elizabeth called out, holding up her hand as she turned toward the house. “Just hold on a minute.”
She disappeared and a few moments later stepped out of the door holding the shiny plastic garment bag that held Amy’s wedding dress. “You may as well do something about this.”
Amy turned back to get it, but Paul stopped her, handing her the suitcase. “Here, you put this in the car, I’ll get that thing.” His tone indicated exactly what he thought of the silk and lace confection.
Amy couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Paul tossing the bag over his shoulder as if it were a sack of feed. Noreen frowned as Paul headed toward the open trunk, about to flip the garment bag in.
“Don’t put it in there. It’s far too expensive to ride in the trunk of the car. Put that in the back seat,” Noreen directed, opening the door. “We don’t want A
my walking down the aisle in a dusty dress.”
“We don’t want Amy walking down the aisle wearing that dress, period,” Paul said firmly.
Amy frowned at him. Noreen didn’t know what was going on, and Amy didn’t want to discuss her breakup, standing around her car.
Paul held her gaze a moment, then winked. “You take care, Punky.”
Amy wished again she could stay but knew for her mother’s sake she should go.
Noreen’s questioning gaze moved from Paul to Amy, and Elizabeth broke the moment, hugging Amy once again. “Have a good time, girl. We’ll see you in a few days.” She turned to Noreen. “Thanks for coming up here to pick her up. But next time you’re more than welcome to stay here, you certainly don’t need to stay in a motel in town.”
Noreen smiled her thanks, waiting for Amy to make a move.
Amy looked once more at Paul trying to show him in one look how it hurt to leave. She stepped into Noreen’s car. As they drove away, she turned in her seat, watching his figure as it grew smaller and smaller, then she turned around, facing ahead.
“Why do I get the feeling that I didn’t exactly come at a very good time?”
Her mother’s softly spoken question broke the quiet in the car. Amy glanced sidelong at her mother, feeling suddenly guilty for not showing more enthusiasm for her visit.
Amy shook her head. “I’m looking forward to spending time with you, Mom. Besides, I think we need to do this.”
And as she thought back to her broken engagement, she realized she was right. All her life the shadow of her mother’s defection had hung over her and had colored so much of her relationship with Tim.
Now, as she was on the threshold of a relationship with Paul, she knew she needed to dispel any and all doubts and fears from her past. She needed to reestablish her relationship with her mother in order to make her relationship with Paul secure.
“I almost hate to ask, but is there a story behind the wedding dress?” Noreen glanced sidelong at Amy, then ahead, as if questioning her right to pry.
Amy laughed, remembering the sight of Paul carrying it. “I guess I should tell you.” Amy unconsciously reached for her absent engagement ring. “I gave Tim his ring back.”
Noreen threw Amy a surprised glance, then looked back at the road. “I see,” she said inanely, as if unable to find the right words. “That would mean the wedding is off.”
Amy nodded.
“And the dress is to be returned?” Noreen continued.
Amy nodded again.
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
More silence.
“So that’s why Paul was staring at you like he wished he could be alone with you.”
“I guess so.” Amy swallowed a sudden pain at the thought of leaving Paul, but it wasn’t the pain of uncertainty, merely the hurt of parting. She would see him again, and she prayed that God would keep him safe until she returned.
“I guess I should have known. His feelings for you were quite obvious the time we had lunch at Fred and Elizabeth’s place.”
Amy remembered that particular afternoon and for a moment wondered what her mother really thought about the situation. Did she think less of Amy for breaking up with Tim who had so much going for him?
Noreen glanced sidelong at Amy again, smiling. “You know something?”
Amy shook her head.
“I never really liked that dress, either.”
Amy laughed and, for the first time since her mother had picked her up, began to look forward to their being together.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping.” Noreen flicked the switch on beside the door, flooding the bedroom with subdued light.
Amy stepped carefully through the doorway, her stockinged feet sinking into the soft, green carpet. The room was done up in shades of sea foam and gray, coordinated from the bedspread to the prints that hung on the wall.
“This is lovely.” Amy dropped her suitcase with a muffled thump. She luxuriated in the soft pile of the carpet, her footsteps silent as she walked to the large window. Her mother’s economic situation was evident from the luxury of the fourteenth-floor condominium.
Rain tapped against the window, turning the lights of the apartment building across the road into hazy patches of light. A shroud of gray hung over the harbor, hiding the mountains beyond the strait.
“On a clear day you can see Vancouver Island,” her mother said.
Amy touched the cool window, craning her neck to look down at the tiny lights that scurried along the street, cars with people on their way home or out for an evening of entertainment.
“Well, I’m impressed.”
“I know you don’t have the view that you do from your bedroom at home, but this place has its own appeal.”
Amy turned away from the window. Noreen sat on the bed as her hands twisted nervously around each other.
“I’m glad I came.” Amy smiled in reassurance.
“Then I’m glad, too.” Noreen tilted her head to one side as if studying her daughter anew. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, tight with emotion. “I didn’t tell you, but I stopped in to see Judd last night when I was in town. We had a lot to talk about and only got a little bit covered. It’s just a beginning, but I know it’s only fair to you and Rick to start.”
Feelings vibrated between them, each afraid to make a move, forgiveness toward her mother an unfamiliar emotion for Amy, guilt a far too familiar one for Noreen.
Amy took a step forward, was met by her mother and they embraced.
Noreen was the first one to pull away. She smiled a shaky smile, wiped a tear from her eye, smudging her mascara. “Sorry. I’m not usually this emotional.”
Amy smiled as her mother found a tissue, wiped her eyes then became brisk and efficient. “I had a number of things planned for this week, but I guess shopping for a wedding gift is out of the question.” Noreen blinked, then returned Amy’s smile. “We could do clothes. I’m sure we can find something that isn’t silk with sequins that would suit you.”
Amy laughed. “We could. I haven’t gone clothes shopping for years, and I guess the money I had set aside for a new fridge could cover that.”
“Are you still using that old thing that always froze my lettuce?”
“And the milk if you didn’t put it exactly on the right shelf.”
“I always scolded you for putting it in the wrong spot….” Noreen stopped then laughed self-deprecatingly. “Well didn’t that sound exactly like a mother.” She looked down at her watch. “Goodness. It’s late and you must be famished. I’ll get supper going, you just unpack and relax.”
Amy watched the door close behind her mother. There were still a lot of emotions that entangled themselves in encounters with her, but somehow each visit became easier.
Her comment about the fridge gave Amy a glimpse of what she could expect from the next few days. Different memories. New insights into her own childhood seen from eyes that beheld things with different emotions and from a different place than her father.
Amy opened her suitcase and immediately thought about Paul. She sent up a quick prayer for patience for herself and Paul. And, in spite of herself, a prayer that he would still be waiting when she got back.
She couldn’t discard all those years of unrequited love in just one day, and her own insecurities hovered, always reminding her that Paul had had many girlfriends, many of them far more glamorous than she could ever hope to be.
Please, Lord, help me to trust. And to be satisfied that You are ever faithful.
Paul shoved the pitchfork back into the bale with a quick jab. Sasha stood on the other side of the corral, head down, munching on dry hay, making it look more appetizing than it was.
A chill wind knifed down the mountains, and Paul pulled his coat closer around himself. He would have to haul out his winter clothes pretty soon, he thought, as he rubbed his hands together to keep warm.
The sun drifted down toward the mount
ains, the sky opposite already darkening. The days were getting shorter, and he figured it would freeze hard tonight.
Paul sighed as his eyes followed the hills to the road that lead to the Danyluks’ place. Amy had been gone two days. He’d missed her from the first minute she’d driven away in Noreen’s car.
The small spark of fear that ignited when she left, glowed again. Each hour she stayed away it seemed to burn hotter. Would she come back? Had he misunderstood?
He spun around and vaulted over the fence separating the frozen pasture from the yard and strode to the house. His mom probably had supper ready, and he was cold and hungry.
He stepped into the house just as the phone rang. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was Amy.
“Is that you Paul?” His mother poked her head into the porch and handed him the cordless phone. “Phone for you.”
He grinned and clutched the receiver, turning his back to his mother as he pulled his boots off. “Hello,” he said, his voice breathless.
“Paul Henderson?”
Paul’s heart plunged. Not Amy. Some man. “Yes,” he replied, unable to keep the disappointed tone out of his voice.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I realize that you might not want to talk to me, but I have some news that might interest you.”
Paul frowned as he recognized the voice. “What can I do for you, Tim?” He clutched the receiver, his mind racing as he wondered what Tim could be calling about, other than Amy.
“What I’m about to tell you is confidential but…” Tim stopped a moment while Paul silently urged the words out of him. “The Drozd boys couldn’t get the financing together to buy the Danyluk place. I…I know I’m stepping out of my bounds here, but I thought you might be interested in knowing that it’s still up for sale.”
Paul’s breath left him in a rush. Thank you, Lord, he prayed. He had thought the worst, had thought Tim was going to tell him that he still wanted Amy, still loved her. “Why did you tell me?” Paul couldn’t stop the question, wondering about Tim’s motives.
Ever Faithful Page 24
