He might never be able to have Pamela as his wife again, but he would be a father to the girls. They’d have to discuss when he could pick them up and how often. Worry over the conversation weighed heavily, but he could never walk away from them again. Life was too short, too precious.
With the bus arriving back in Tennessee well past midnight, he didn’t try to find a phone to reach Owen. Instead, he’d decided he would take a cab back to his apartment. The next morning he’d check on the shelter, then head to the nearest store to purchase a new phone.
The cab pulled up at the apartment and he changed his mind. Giving the driver the address of the shelter, he decided he’d shower and sleep there. He was anxious to make sure everything had gone all right since he’d been gone. He’d missed hamburger night, Steve’s favorite night of the week, and he wanted to be sure his friend knew Jack hadn’t left for good.
Once at the shelter, he walked into his office and dropped his bag on the floor. The couch looked more inviting than it ever had before. His shower would have to wait. He had to shut his eyes for a few hours or he wouldn’t be able to make it through the next day.
Taking a blanket and pillow out of the closet, he made a makeshift bed. He pulled off his shoes and untucked his shirt. He offered a quick prayer for rest, for peace for his dad and siblings, and for the opportunity to see his girls tomorrow.
He smiled as he realized how much he felt at home back in Tennessee. God had pulled him out of the mire and brought him back to the place He had planned for him. I can trust You with Pamela, Lord. Whether she ever loves me again or not, I entrust her to You.
* * *
To no avail, Pamela slathered makeup on her red, swollen eyelids. Giving up, she tossed the eye shadow brush into the cosmetic bag. She pulled her hair through a ponytail holder. Staring at her reflection, she grunted. This was not how she wanted to look when she saw Jack again for the first time.
But she couldn’t help it. She’d cried for two days straight. She’d yielded her life and fears back over to Christ, and each time she heard a Christian song or opened her Bible or voiced a quick prayer, she burst into tears again.
And Jack. She blew out a breath. Owen had finally called her back and told her that his mother had passed away and he’d taken a bus to Texas for the funeral. Her heart broke for him. Not only had Pamela finally admitted to herself and to God that she loved her husband, but she’d had to live for two days knowing Jack had mourned his mother’s passing believing she wanted nothing to do with him.
Tears filled her eyes again, and she grabbed a tissue, blotted them then pointed at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. “You’ve got no cry left in you, woman. Get a grip.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she tugged at the bottom of her long flannel dress, then adjusted the brown belt around her waist. She pulled her cowboy boots over chestnut-colored leggings and walked out of the bathroom.
“Mom, are you all right?”
Pamela’s lower lip quivered at Emma’s soft words and concerned expression. She wrapped her arm around her child’s neck and kissed the top of her head. “I am perfectly fine. You and Emmy are going to Grandma and Grandpa’s while I run some errands.”
She nodded, but Pamela knew the child still feared something wasn’t right. Grabbing the oversize umbrella, she walked the girls to the main house before dashing to her car. She kept the radio off on the drive to the shelter, fearing if she listened to Christian music she’d start blubbering again.
Her mind stayed in constant prayer mode. She didn’t even know what she was thinking or wanting or planning to do or say. She simply begged God to show her when she got there.
She pulled into the parking lot beside the shelter. It was early and rain poured down in what seemed like solid sheets, but she knew the workers would be serving breakfast. She gazed into the rearview mirror and patted the corners of her eyes. Owen said Jack’s bus was supposed to have arrived late last night. She knew he’d be at The Refuge first thing in the morning.
She gripped the strap of her purse. She still didn’t understand why he’d turned off his phone, why he hadn’t called the girls for two days. The what-ifs that flitted through her mind had ransacked her heart, making her physically ill each time she allowed herself to think about it.
Pushing the car door, she opened the umbrella and made her way toward the building. He’ll probably be at the door, greeting people. She sucked in her breath as she walked up the steps and opened the door.
Her heart sank. Teresa smiled at her and shook her hand. Even wearing a plain red sweatshirt and jeans, the woman’s dark hair and eyes made her look naturally gorgeous. “Hi, Pamela. What brings you here today?”
“I came to see Jack. Is he back from Texas?”
“He is. I believe he’s in the office. Asleep the last time I checked.”
Jealousy trickled down Pamela’s spine at the idea of Teresa being in his office with him and knowing he was asleep there. And what if Jack wanted her to be in there with him since Pamela had rejected him so completely?
She blinked several times. I’m going crazy. Absolutely losing my mind. God, help me get a grip.
Pointing toward the office, Pamela said, “I’ll just go back there and check on him.”
After taking a few steps, a tall, lumbering man stepped in front of her. Pamela placed her hand on her chest as she looked up. The man smiled, exposing rotting teeth. His eyes twinkled with kindness, and she remembered she’d met him before. “Steve, right?”
He tugged at his shaggy beard. “That’s right, miss. And you’re Jack’s wife, ain’t ya?”
“I am.”
He clicked his tongue. “I sure did miss him the last couple days. He didn’t leave us for good, now did he?”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe so.” She opened her mouth to tell him that Jack was apparently in the office; then she stopped herself. Maybe Steve wasn’t supposed to know Jack was in his office.
“Well, when you see him, tell him ol’ Steve asked about him.”
“I will.”
With a quick wave, she walked past him, down the hall and toward the office. She knocked gently, but no one answered. She turned the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. Taking a quick breath, she opened the door.
Jack started and jumped off the couch. His jeans and shirt were rumpled, and his hair stuck out in various spots. Bloodshot eyes seemed to try to focus on her as he wiped his face with his hand. “Pamela!”
Her heartbeat skipped, and thanksgiving flooded her. He was back in Tennessee. Safe. Nothing terrible had happened to him. She could love him and be there for him through the grief of the loss of his mother. She could...
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a bottle on the desk. A tremor shot through her body when she turned and saw the half-empty liquor container. She looked back at him. Bloodshot eyes. Messed-up hair. Sleeping in his clothes.
He’d been drinking.
She smacked her hands against her thighs. “How could you? How could you come back into our lives after all these years, profess love to all of us then start drinking again?” She leaned forward and pointed at him. “Maybe you never gave it up.” She smacked her thigh again and threw back her head. “Maybe you’ve been drinking all along, and I’m just a complete idiot.”
Balling her fists at her sides, she stared at the framed picture of a wooded area with a stream that hung behind the filing cabinet. “And I came here to tell you I wanted to try...that I’d given my fears to God...and that you and I...”
She peered at him. Confusion ruled his expression. The hangover was clearly keeping him from understanding a word she was saying. “I can’t believe I was such a fool.”
He reached toward her, but she opened the door and walked out of the office. Some woman stepped beside her and asked where she could use the
restroom. Pamela ignored her and walked to the door.
“Is everything all right?” asked Teresa.
“No.” Pamela stalked out of the building without another word, fearing she’d tell the woman to take Jack to Timbuktu for all she cared.
Cold rain smacked against her head and face. She didn’t care. Maybe it would simmer down her fury a degree or two.
She lifted her face to the heavens and closed her eyes against the rain. “God, I want to trust You. Help me.”
Chapter 18
Jack raked his fingers through his hair. Where was he? What just happened? He looked around the room. His office. Looked down at his clothes. He’d gotten home from Texas late last night. He hadn’t slept well for days, and exhaustion must have sent him into a deep sleep.
He glanced at his desk and frowned. Why was a liquor bottle there? He peered down at the bottle. A note sat beneath it. One of the volunteers had found it hidden beside the bed where one of their regulars slept. They’d warned John multiple times when he’d come in hungover that he couldn’t bring alcohol into The Refuge. He must have sneaked it in while I was gone. And Pamela thought it was mine.
He had to stop her. He yanked on his shoes, then scooped up the note and shoved it in his pocket. Feeling a stick of gum in the pocket, he pulled it out and shoved the piece in his mouth. He desperately needed a shower, a change of clothes, to brush his teeth, but all that would have to wait.
Grabbing his coat off the chair, he threw it on as he raced out of the office. He spied Steve, and the man’s face lit up and he waved. Jack lifted his finger. “Be right back.”
Teresa pointed to the door. “She just left. You should be able to catch her.”
He smiled. The awkwardness between them had dissipated when she and one of the single male volunteers had started to talk on a regular basis. “Thanks.”
Rain gushed from the sky with the fervency it had the night before. He looked to the parking lot and spied Pamela beside her car, her eyes closed and her face lifted to the heavens. He raced to her and grabbed her arm. “Pamela.”
She looked at him. Rain streamed down her nose and cheeks. “Jack, I’ve got to go. I can’t do this.”
“Please talk to me.” He pulled on her arm, and to his surprise, she allowed him to guide her to an awning beside the shelter. “It wasn’t my bottle.”
She narrowed her gaze, and he opened his arms. “Look at me. I’m not hungover. I’m dirty. I’m tired. But I haven’t been drinking. It was almost midnight when I got back. I went to the shelter and crashed on the couch. I slept harder than I expected.”
She crossed her arms and looked away from him. He yanked the note out of his pocket. “Look. This was under the bottle. One of the volunteers had put it there to show me he’d caught one of the guys with alcohol. It’s not allowed. The bottle was just proof.”
Pamela took the note from his hand and read it. Her shoulders slumped, and her lower lip quivered. “Why didn’t you call us while you were gone?”
He patted his jean pockets, then his coat pockets. He pulled his phone out of the inside of his coat. “Phone got busted on the bus on the way there. I didn’t have your number memorized, so I couldn’t call. But I had left a message before I boarded the bus.”
She frowned. “Emmy accidentally deleted it.”
She didn’t say anything else, and Jack waited. If he’d heard her correctly about getting back together, he wanted to give her time to digest the information. She’d always been a thinker, almost to the point of driving him crazy.
To his surprise, she reached out and took his hand in hers. “Owen told me about your mom. I’m really sorry.”
Jack bit his bottom lip. “Yeah, she’s battled MS for years, but we never expected her to die from a heart attack. And so young. Barely fifty.”
“How’s your dad and your sister and brother?”
“Hurting. But I’m praying God will use this to draw them to Himself.” His voice caught. “I couldn’t believe how big Kari and Todd have gotten. I wish I could see them more often. Be the big brother they need.”
Pamela lifted her hand and touched his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I love you so much, Pammer.”
“I know you do.” She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m scared, Jack.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her against him. With his lips against her hair, he said, “You have every right to be.”
“I loved you so much. Would have done anything for you. But there were times I was afraid of you. Afraid you’d hurt me or Emma.”
Jack’s stomach turned, and he squeezed his eyes closed as he remembered the woman and her two girls at the shelter in Texas. “Praise God I didn’t.”
“I was embarrassed when you didn’t help Dad and my brothers on the farm. Angry when you didn’t help me with the house or Emma.”
He cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “All those things were inexcusable, and you have every right not to trust me again. But God has changed me.”
Pamela’s gaze softened. “He’s changed me, too. He’s given me grace despite my anger and bitterness the last few years. He’s allowed me to raise two beautiful girls and go back to school, something I always wanted to do.” She lifted her hands until her fingers traced through his hair. “And even though I’m scared out of my wits, he’s brought you back to me.”
Jack’s heartbeat quickened as disbelief, excitement and joy racing through him. He lowered his head and captured her lips against his. There was no fear as she returned the kiss, and his stomach churned and his knees weakened. Pulling her tighter, he grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, her lips again. He didn’t want to let her go. “By God’s grace, I’ll be good to you.”
“You’d better be.”
She pulled away from him, and he realized her skin had paled and her bottom lip quivered. “You’re freezing.”
“Just a little bit.”
“Let’s get you inside.”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll go home, take a hot shower and put on some dry clothes.”
Standing on tiptoes, she cupped her hand around his neck and kissed him again. “I love you, Jack.”
Jack’s heart beat against his chest as she raced back to the car. His prayers had been answered. And God had said yes.
* * *
At home, Pamela touched her fingers to her lips. She could still feel Jack’s kisses and found she yearned for more. Closing her eyes, she needed to keep her mind focused on what was most pressing. Before she and Jack could pursue a relationship with each other again, she’d need to talk with the girls. It had been the three of them all their lives. Adding a guy to the mix would definitely change things.
She chuckled when she remembered shaving cream and dull razors and woodsy-scented soap crowding her products in the shower. For some reason, Jack always dropped his dirty clothes beside the clothes hamper. Not in the hamper. Beside it. Something she never understood. And the toothpaste. He never put the cap back on. Constantly left the cabinets open. A zillion little things that had driven her crazy.
And she couldn’t wait to battle each of them again.
After a hot shower, she dressed, blow-dried her hair, and walked to her parents’ house. The girls and their grandpa sat at the kitchen table, icing sugar cookies. Her mom placed dishes in the dishwasher. “So, did you see Jack?”
Her mother acted uninterested, but Pamela knew better. Her parents were every bit as concerned as she.
“I did.”
“Why hasn’t he called us?” asked Emma.
Pamela wished she could wipe the concern from her older daughter’s features. The girl worried far too much. Pamela hoped that would change in the coming months. She petted Emma’s
long hair. “Remember I told you his mother passed away.”
Emmy licked her plastic knife. “Yeah. Our grandma that we haven’t met.”
Pamela scrunched her nose. She hated the disconnected tone in Emmy’s voice. “Yes. Well, he dropped his phone on the bus and busted it, so he couldn’t call us.”
Emma looked relieved as she leaned back in her chair. Emmy continued to lick the knife. She’d never been concerned. How Pamela wished the girls could share just a bit of the other’s personality.
Pamela continued. “My guess is we’ll see him later today.”
“Yay,” squealed Emmy.
“How was the funeral?” asked her dad.
“He said it was hard and that his siblings have grown a lot. He hopes to see them again soon.” She tapped Emmy on the nose. “He wants you two to meet them, as well.”
Emmy lifted her eyebrows. “Okay by me.”
Emma shrugged, then focused on the cookie she was decorating.
“What do you think about that?” Tammie asked.
“I think it would be good.” Pamela picked up the dishcloth on the table and twisted it. “Girls, I’d like to talk with you.” She looked at her parents. “It’s okay if you stay.”
They nodded, and her mom pulled up a chair and sat beside her dad. Worry was etched on her mother’s brow, and Pamela almost laughed out loud. She knew where she and Emma got that characteristic.
She took one of each girl’s hands in hers. “What would you think about me and your dad getting back together?”
Emmy pulled her hand away and clapped. “Yay! I always wanted a mommy and a daddy like Stephanie. She says her daddy keeps the monsters out from under the bed.” She leaned closer and pursed her lips. “Course, we know there’s no such thing as monsters.”
Emma stared at the cookie on the table. She pulled her hand away, then set down the knife and started to get up. Pamela reached for her again. “Where are you going, Emma?”
A Family Reunited Page 13
