“Why . . . thank you, Oscar. That’s very nice. I admire you too.”
“To tell the truth, what I feel for you goes deeper than admiration. You’re a beautiful woman, but that’s not too important. Oh, I suppose it is, but what I really admire about you is your determination. I haven’t known you long, but I know you’ve sacrificed your own happiness to raise those boys. You’ve probably done without a number of things you might have wanted. You’ve kept them together. They’ve got good spirits. That came from you. Not many women could have done that.”
“Oh, I’m sure many women have done it.”
Oscar was silent for a moment and then he sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Have you ever thought of me as a man you might marry, Alona?”
While the question wasn’t entirely unexpected, she had not settled on an answer. At times she had thought about how easy her life would be and how much better off the boys would be if she married a man who was able to support them, but since Oscar was so much older and had never remarried after years of being a widower, she had not really thought the idea through.
“I was never very romantic, Alona.” He shook his head and laughed. “Jason, he’s the romantic one. But not me. To tell the truth, my first marriage was pretty much a mistake, although I can’t complain. You may have heard about it.”
“You told me that your wife had two girls when you married her.”
“Yes. She had been married before. She wasn’t an especially attractive woman and had no real suitors. Her father wanted her to have a home. We had worked together, and he knew I was honest and a hard worker. They had money, and I needed help with the foundry. Her father came and talked to me about her.”
“You mean he offered his daughter to you?”
“He wasn’t quite that blunt. But he did tell me that Helen was lonely and he went on to say how much he liked me. He said he was afraid some fortune hunter would sweep her off her feet but not provide a good home. So he told me that if I ever felt anything for Helen, I shouldn’t hesitate. That he and his wife would support me.”
“What did Helen think about it?”
Oscar seemed embarrassed. He reached up and rubbed his hand across his brow. “I don’t know,” he said lamely.
“You don’t know! How could you not know, Oscar? She must have been happy, sad, angry—something!”
“I’m being honest with you, Alona. I really don’t know. I didn’t do anything for six months after her father and I had that discussion, but I thought about it. The business was in terrible shape. It was about to go under, and I knew I couldn’t make it unless I had some financial support. But that wasn’t really why I finally approached her. I asked her to marry me, but not just because her father was willing to finance the business.”
“What was your other reason?”
“I thought we could have children. She was still a young woman. I didn’t love her, Alona, and she didn’t love me. But she was a decent person, and I respected her. So I decided I’d be very honest with her.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her that I didn’t really love her the way a man should, that I wasn’t romantic, just as I’ve told you, but that I would like her to marry me. I told her that I’d spoken with her father and that he was agreeable and that I thought we would have a comfortable marriage. I even told her that her father had offered to support me financially if I became his business partner.”
“You told her that? What did she say?”
“She said she would marry me. I always suspected her father told her all about this before I asked her.”
Alona could not think of a single intelligent remark to make, and finally he went on.
“I know that sounds a little cold to you, but I really wanted children—a family.”
“So you’re asking me to do what your first wife did, to make a business arrangement out of marriage.”
Oscar groaned and smacked his forehead. “I’ve made a big mess out of it, Alona. Let me start all over again.”
“I don’t think there’s any need, Oscar.”
“Yes there is. Listen to me, please. You’re not the same kind of woman my first wife was. She was rather cold and distant. Respectable, as I say, and she was a good housekeeper and a good hostess, but there was no warmth to her at all. Of course, there wasn’t a lot in me either, to be honest.”
“I still don’t see the difference.”
“The difference is you, Alona.” He reached for her hand and held it. “You’re different. You’re warm and alive, and you’ve got an inner joy in you, and people brighten up when they see you coming. I do myself. It’s true,” he insisted. “I feel great every time I see you. So that’s one difference. I know I’m older than you are—maybe you feel I’m too old.”
He seemed to have more to say so she let him keep going.
“The doctor says I’m unable to have children, and I’m really too old to start out with infants anyway. I want some children, Alona. I think your boys like me, and I love them. So that’s why I’m asking you to consider me as a husband and as a father to your children. Will you think on it? I won’t press you for an answer now, of course.”
Alona was in a difficult position. She could not help but think of her sorry financial state. After she had lost her job, the little money she had managed to save had drained steadily away. She had tried to find another job but hadn’t found anything yet. Oscar was still holding her hand, and there was an eagerness in his face. But inside, a voice kept saying, It won’t be like your marriage to Truman. But then she thought, But no marriage would be like that one. He was my first love, and that will always be special, no matter whom I marry.
“I don’t know what to say, Oscar. I respect you. Everybody does. You’ve been there for your brother, helping him in every way you could. You’re very faithful at church, and you’ve been wonderful with my boys. And, of course, we both know I’m having financial difficulty since I lost my job. It’s been . . . well, it’s been hard, and I don’t know which way to turn. Naturally I’m tempted. It would be so easy to say yes. You have a beautiful home, and I know you’d be good to the boys. And you’d be good to me.”
“I would. Indeed I would, Alona!”
“I know you would,” she said and squeezed his hand.
“I don’t want to press you, but just let me tell you this. I know you can’t love me as you did your first husband. You talk about him enough that I understand that, and I don’t expect it. But I could do so much for your boys. They’ll be going through some difficult ages. It’s a hard time for young men, and I’ve never cared as much about money as people think I do, but this is one time I’m glad I do have money. I can give your boys whatever they need. And when it’s time for them to go to college, they could go and get a fine education. I think Zac might even like to come back and work in the foundry. He’s so good with his hands. Tim and Carl will probably have other ideas. But we could do it together. They could become wonderful men—men you will be so proud of.”
He stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. This sounds like a business proposition, but it isn’t. I won’t say anything else, and I won’t speak of this again. But if you can think of me as a husband, you just say the word, and I’ll be the happiest man in the world.”
He got out of the car and came around to her side. Holding the umbrella over her head, he walked her up to the house. “Good-bye, Alona” was all he said before he turned and walked back to the car.
Alona watched the big car as it pulled away. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt weak in the knees. Slowly she turned and went inside the house. After hanging up her raincoat, she knelt down beside the sofa. “Lord, I don’t have any idea what to do,” she prayed. “I envy those people who always seem to know what you have for them, but I’m weak. Please show me what to do. If you’d have me marry Oscar, then I’ll do it, but if you wouldn’t have me marry him, I won’t. I promise you that.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Val
ley of Decision
Jason tried to concentrate, but his head seemed to be splitting open. It felt as if someone were driving a railroad spike from one temple to another.
“You’re not fit to do your work here, Jason!” Oscar’s voice sounded rough and disgusted. “When are you gonna sober up?” Jason turned to leave when Oscar started again. “No, you’re not gonna go back to that dive and drink anymore. Get a truck from Roy, load up those white oak logs that have been sawed into lengths, and take them to Mrs. Jennings. Then stay there and split them all up. Maybe that’ll sober you up.”
“All right, Oscar.”
Jason’s voice was hoarse, and he had a terrible taste in his mouth. He went to find Roy Hanson, the foreman, and said, “Oscar wants me to fetch the wood he bought for Mrs. Jennings.”
Roy grinned at him. “Are you sure you can handle it? You don’t see two trucks, do you?”
“I can do it, Roy.” Jason tried to smile. “The Bible says, ‘Be sure your sin will find you out.’ I guess that’s the way it is.”
Taking the keys, Jason went to the truck and glanced at the load of logs that had been sawed into eighteen-inch lengths. He got into the truck and drove to the Jennings’ house. He drove to the back of the house and backed up by the chopping block. He began to shove the logs off and by the time he had them all unloaded, he was sweating under the late March sun. Jumping off the truck, he picked up the ax, saw that it was dull, and spent some time searching for a file. While he filed the ax, he thought back with disgust to the previous night. He had bought a quart of whiskey and drank most of it before passing out. He had gone to work this morning with a terrible hangover, knowing that if he encountered Oscar, he would never hear the end of it.
A bluebird had alighted on the clothesline and cocked its head, seeming to examine him. “On your way, bluebird. You look too happy for me,” Jason muttered. He gripped the ax and swung it, but his aim was bad. Viciously he jerked the ax back and blinked, focusing his eyes. The next time he just nicked the edge of the log. He took a deep breath and tried again. This time the wood split. Methodically he bent over to pick up the two pieces, and his head seemed to come off with the pain. He straightened up, closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and began to work again.
As a rule, splitting wood was something Jason Moran liked to do. There was a pleasure in striking cleanly and watching the wood split. But his aim was off, and his legs and arms felt weak, so there was no pleasure in the work. He had been working steadily for an hour when he heard the back door open. He looked up and saw Alona bringing him a cup of coffee.
“You don’t have to chop all that wood. With what you’ve done already, I’ve got plenty to last a good long time. Here, take this coffee.”
“Thanks,” he said, but he kept his eyes averted. He knew they were bloodshot, and it didn’t take a genius to know that he had a hangover.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Yeah. I had some.”
“Would you like me to fix you some eggs?”
“No. The coffee’s fine.”
“Sit down for a while and rest. I’ve been watching you. You’re working too hard.”
“Oscar wouldn’t think so.”
“Did you two have a quarrel?”
“I got drunk last night and came to work with a hangover. He ran me out. Told me to bring this wood and chop it. He said it was all I was fit for.” He took a sip of his coffee. “And he’s right.”
“No, he’s not right. You’re fit for lots of things.”
“Chopping wood is about my limit, Alona.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job with Tim. He’s so excited about the painting techniques you’re teaching him.”
“Well, I’m glad of that. He’s a great kid. Got lots of talent.”
They watched a pair of squirrels chase each other around a tree and finally disappear into the leaves.
“Have you ever thought of flying again?” Alona asked.
“No, not if I can help it.”
“You told me once you loved it.”
“I did, but I can’t do it anymore.”
“Why not?”
“The first time I tried to go up after that crash, my hands froze on the throttle. I couldn’t make a move. And then I started to shake all over. I got out of the plane and never went in one again.”
“It seems such a shame. You like it so much, and Oscar said your officer said you had great ability.”
“I guess my ability leaked out of me when I hit the ground in that crash.”
Alona squeezed her hands together and said tentatively, “Did you know that Oscar’s asked me to marry him?”
Instantly Jason lifted his head. His blue eyes, bloodshot though they were, were very direct. “Are you going to?”
“I don’t know. Marrying again is not . . . it’s not something I’ve really thought about.”
Jason turned the cup around in his hand for a time, then lifted it and drained the rest of the coffee. “Oscar has always wanted boys. He’d do anything for them.”
“Yes, I know that, but marriage is different. It’s not a business matter.”
“It might be with—” Jason broke off and shook his head. “I can’t say anything against Oscar.”
“What do you think I should do, Jason?”
His eyes flew open with astonishment. “Have you lost your mind, Alona?”
“What do you mean?”
“I made a wreck out of my own life, and you’re asking me to help you with a decision like that? I can’t tell you what to do.” He handed her the coffee cup, then went back and picked up the ax. He raised it and it came down cleanly, splitting a thick log in two. “Alona, you don’t want to share a bed for the rest of your life with a man you don’t love.” He went back to work. She stared at him for a moment, then walked quickly back into the house, ashamed for some reason she could not pinpoint.
****
The boys had gone to school, and Alona could not concentrate on the housework. She put on a light coat, went out the front door, and walked to the church. She went to the office and greeted the secretary, who told the pastor she was there.
“Come in, Alona,” he called through the open doorway.
“Is this a bad time, Pastor?”
“No, not at all. Sit down.” He rose and waited until she had seated herself, then sat down across from her. “I hear the Easter program is going first rate. Paul is so excited about it. I’ve never seen him so pleased, and he says nothing but good things about your role in it.”
They talked for a few minutes about the cantata and then she said, “I need some advice, Pastor.”
“Well,” Brother Byron said with a slight grin, “I don’t often give people straightforward advice.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
“I prefer to listen to people and then I say things like ‘yes’ and ‘I see.’ Sometimes I just say, ‘hmm,’ but very rarely do I say, ‘Do this.’ It’s good for people to talk things out. What’s on your mind?”
“I . . . I don’t know what to do. Oscar has asked me to marry him.”
“I’m not too surprised. I don’t think anyone else will be either.”
“Has it been that obvious?”
“Pretty obvious. You see, Oscar’s never showed any interest in any other woman, and there have been some attractive women who have tried to get his attention. Why is this a problem for you?”
“Don’t you see it?”
“I guess not. We men are pretty thickheaded. Tell me about it.”
Alona talked about the situation for the next ten minutes, sometimes rambling, bringing up her marriage and how happy she had been, speaking about her worries about the boys and her financial problems, talking about the age difference between herself and Oscar Moran. She finally got to the heart of the matter. “I just don’t feel for Oscar what I . . .”
When she hesitated, Brother Byron said, “You mean you don’t have the same feelings for him that you h
ad for your husband?”
“That’s right. I don’t.”
“But you really didn’t expect to feel that way about any other man, did you, Alona?”
She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No. I guess I knew I could never feel that way again.”
“And I guess you know that I’m not going to say ‘Don’t marry Oscar Moran,’ or ‘You should marry Oscar Moran.’ I couldn’t say that to you. I know you well enough to know you’ve prayed about it.”
“I have, Pastor, but I don’t have any answer.”
“It’s tough to discern God’s will, isn’t it? How many times have I been there. It’s like you’re going down a road and you see a fork in the road coming, and you’ve got to take one or the other, but you don’t know which one. And you start screaming out, ‘God, which one—right or left?’ and God doesn’t say anything.”
“It’s exactly like that,” Alona said with surprise. “What do you do?”
“You take the one you want to.”
“But that doesn’t sound right.”
“What’s the other choice? If you don’t take either one, you’ll crash right into the fork. There’re probably trees back there or a house. When this church called me about taking this position, I had no idea whether God wanted me to come here or not. I agonized and I prayed and I fasted, and the longer it went on, the less sure I was about what to do. It was like God locked up heaven and closed it down. Put a sign up that said No trespassing. But I had to make a decision. I had to say yes or no.”
“And what did you do?”
“I had to use human wisdom. Since God didn’t tell me directly, I took what seemed to me to be the best road. Even with my frail human wisdom I could make some kind of choice. I had felt for some time that my work was done at the church where I had been pastor for six years. I’d been praying for a new opportunity for a door to open, and suddenly a door was open. So when I didn’t hear a direct message, as Paul did on the road to Damascus, I just said, ‘Lord, you can always stop me, but I’m going to this church unless you intervene.’ So I called the church and told them I’d come, and I watched in case I got a red light. But I didn’t get one.”
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