Just to See You Smile

by Sally John

  “Oh, Lord!”

  Goodness, enough with the despair.

  “Jesus, thank You that I wasn’t hurt more seriously. Please be with whoever did this. Let them know in some way that You love them. Thank You for knowing everything about me.” She closed her eyes. “Thank You for Joel. I don’t know what I’m feeling, I just know I’m calling him by his first name so I must feel something! I give it all to You.” She was silent for a moment, struggling to truly let the fear go, to let the unnamed feelings go, and to let that familiar, supernatural peace find its way in again.

  It didn’t happen. She was still shaking.

  “But it’s a fact. I know You are here with me, taking it one step at a time.” She opened her eyes and punched the garage door opener. “Amen.”

  She drove through the late afternoon dusk. It was a cold, cloudy Christmas Eve. Normally, she would be at her parents, but this year was different. Ryan was at his girlfriend’s. Brady was at some relative of Gina’s with her parents. Megan was at her in-laws’. And, wonderful as the two days had been letting her mom fuss over her, enough was enough. The Olafssons would all be together tomorrow on Christmas Day. When Anne called last night and invited her to their home for Christmas Eve with the promise that Alec would take her home, Britte gratefully accepted.

  She covered the few blocks quickly and parked on the long driveway near the garage. As she unloaded her vegetable casserole from the backseat, a car pulled in behind hers, its lights blinding her eyes. The Suttons’ two large dogs tore across the front yard, barking.

  Britte’s heart rammed against her chest as if it would burst out.

  The car door opened and a man climbed out. “Britte.” He approached.

  “Ahh!” she yelled. The cry escaped in that split second that passed before she recognized him. “Joel! Don’t do that! Oh!” Her tone was a squeal, beyond her control. Her heart didn’t slow.

  “I’m sorry! Holy cow, that was thoughtless. Here, let me take that.” He took the dish and held on to her arm.

  “Whoa!” she exhaled loudly, and then she laughed. There was a touch of hysteria to it. “I guess I used up all my nerve just getting here.”

  “I imagine you did.”

  “You calling me chicken?”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Maybe a yellow-bellied, lily-livered coward.”

  She laughed again. “That about sums it up. Samson, Madison,” she yelled at the dogs, “be quiet!” It felt good to shout. Her heartbeat was returning to normal.

  “Come on, let’s get inside.” He steered her across the lawn, the quiet dogs at their heels. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Britte was torn between chewing out Anne for this setup and being glad that she had accepted her invitation.

  They climbed the front porch steps, and Joel rang the doorbell.

  Anne opened the door. “Joel!”

  Alec peered over his wife’s shoulder. “Britte!”

  Joel turned to her and smiled. “Apparently they didn’t know either.”

  “Alec, how could you?” Anne went quickly along the upstairs hallway ahead of him and into their bedroom.

  Carrying their guests’ coats, Alec bit back a flippant retort asking her the same question. Anne was not on top of her game today. She swiveled on him now, hands on hips, mouth pursed, eyes glaring. He knew the signals. She desperately needed a hug. He laid the coats on the bed. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I invited Joel. I’m sorry I forgot to mention it.” They hadn’t exactly seen much of each other during the week.

  “I don’t mind, but Britte will! And after what she’s just been through— Good heavens! She’ll think I’m playing Cupid!”

  He laughed. “You’re joking! Just tell her the truth. You didn’t know he was coming.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that they’re both here now! She’ll be so uncomfortable. Did you know she called him the ‘General’ to his face? Did you know she reprimanded him the other day?”

  Alec couldn’t help but grin. Joel’s rendition hadn’t included the “General” remark. “That’s our Britte. She’s been outspoken since she was a kid. Remember that she used to tell us how to raise Drew? What was she, 15?”

  Anne only frowned at him.

  “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” Very un-Anne-like, her voice went up a notch. “What are you going to do about this?”

  In reply, he dropped his right hand to the ground, bent his knees slightly, and grimaced at her.

  “I’m serious!”

  With a growl, he lunged and softly tackled her, grabbing her round the waist and lifting her off her feet and onto the bed.

  “Let me up!” She pushed at his shoulder.

  “Not until you smile. It’s Christmas Eve, woman!”

  “It’s your fault.”

  “I apologize. I’ll take care of it. I won’t let Joel near Britte.” He kissed her cheek, his lips brushing her face as he murmured, “You’ve been taking such good care of us, sweetheart.” He kissed the tiny scar at the corner of her mouth. “Throw in a full-time job, and you don’t miss a beat. What can I do for you?” He kissed her until at last she slid her arms around his neck. And then he kissed her until he wished they didn’t have company downstairs.

  He came up for air and saw that her eyes were smoky gray. Their lovemaking had chased the blackness away. “I love you, Annie. Tell me what to do. I want you to enjoy the holidays.”

  She looked him in the eye. “Clean the kitchen tonight. Totally. Without my help.”

  Uh-oh. That was a tough one. He detested cleaning the kitchen. There were so many details!

  “I’m just tired, Alec. Beyond tired. And you haven’t exactly been Mr. Mom this week.”

  He winced. It was true. He had been at home instead of the office, but still Anne had found it necessary to stay up most nights until long past midnight, preparing for the holiday. She had worked at the store yesterday, Saturday. That schedule had kept her up until 3:00 A.M. in order to have time to go to church and be ready for tonight’s guests. “I know. I’m food-prep and gift-wrap challenged. But I know how to clean up.”

  “Until every dish and bit of food is put away and the countertops are washed? No sticky spots on the floor?” A single tear slid down her cheek. “If that doesn’t happen, mister, tomorrow will be unbearable.”

  He hugged her tightly. “Oh, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know it until you asked what you could do.”

  He wiped away the tears clinging to her eyelashes. “Hey,” he teased, “did you know Peter and Celeste and all three of their kids are coming tonight, too?”

  It brought a smile to her face. “Did you know Val and all three of her kids are coming?”

  He smiled back, hoping they were using disposable tableware for everything.

  Before going back downstairs to her guests, Anne stopped in the bathroom to wash her face.

  “Dear Father, I’m sorry. I’d rather just curl up with Alec than be with friends tonight.”

  She checked her reflection and noticed her ponytail was askew. She gave herself a halfhearted smile, thinking how she missed her husband. She pulled out the band and brushed her dark hair. How long had she worn it this way? It was shoulder length in their wedding pictures. Maybe it’d be fun to chop it off. At the least, it’d be practical. Shampooing and drying time would be cut in half. She could use that time to snuggle with Alec…or kiss Amy goodbye…or listen when Drew surprised her with conversation…or do some room mother thing for Mandy…or wait for Britte after a game so she wouldn’t be alone in the parking lot…or read a book…

  She’d better shave her head and go bald.

  “Anyway, Lord, help!”

  Hurrying down the staircase she spotted Britte and Joel in the living room and halted. They stood near the fresh Christmas tree, beside the piano, holding cups of eggnog, singing an
d laughing through Mandy’s halting rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” encouraging the little girl to keep going. And…their shoulders were touching.

  Anne burst into laughter.

  God’s clear answer for help took her by surprise.

  Twenty-Four

  Britte accepted a bowl from Anne. They were in her large kitchen, unloading copious dishes from the oven and refrigerator. Celeste and Val were in the dining room, arranging items on the buffet table. The men were out in the living room; the nine children were scattered about the house.

  “You look pitiful, honey.” Anne gave her a gentle smile. “But you probably didn’t need to hear that.”

  “Again.”

  “Hey, I hadn’t said it yet.” On the telephone Thursday, Anne had tearfully said everything else, from blaming herself for not being there to threatening to sue whoever was responsible. “I can’t believe you went to school on Thursday.”

  Britte cocked her head.

  “Well, yes, I can. Why would a little assault disrupt your schedule?” Anne shut the refrigerator and, after a glance over Britte’s shoulder, conspicuously raised her brows.

  Britte set the bowl down on the counter. It was their first chance to talk alone, and she knew what the raised brows asked. What’s going on between you and Joel? Britte held out her hands, palms up. “You got me!”

  Anne giggled. “Give me details.”

  “There aren’t any! It’s just something that—that’s there.”

  “Well, this certainly makes the evening intriguing! Alec didn’t tell me he had invited him. You know I would have told you.”

  “I know.” Britte smiled.

  Anne hugged her. “I told you he’s a good one.”

  “Annie, don’t go making long-range plans, okay?”

  “I’ll try not to.” Her jaw dropped. “Whoops. I fussed at Alec, and he promised to monopolize Joel all night. You may have to rescue the guy because Alec will not catch on.” Her eyes strayed toward the family room.

  Britte looked over her shoulder. Joel was entering from the dining room, Alec on his heels, spreading his arms in a helpless gesture, throwing an apologetic look her direction.

  Anne murmured, “Then again, our principal is perfectly capable of standing on his own two feet.”

  Late that evening, while the children wound down in the family room, the adults gathered in the Suttons’ living room in front of a crackling fire. Britte sat on the carpet, her legs curled underneath her long skirt. Her back to the fireplace, she leaned sideways against a wing chair, comfortably close to Joel, who sat in it.

  She looked around the cozy seating arrangement. Alec sat in another wing chair on the other side of the fireplace; Anne was on the floor near him. Celeste and Peter sat on the love seat facing the fireplace. A square coffee table was in the center. Only a dim lamp, the Christmas tree lights, and the fire lit the room.

  Val had gone home. The evening had been packed with laughter, music, food, and games, but it had clearly been a struggle for the suddenly single mother. Britte felt that her own ordeal was hardly worth mentioning in comparison, but the others were eager to hear what had happened since the Wednesday night attack.

  Joel touched Britte’s shoulder now and spoke to the others. “Cal came to the office on Thursday. Lynnie gave him a complete list of team members, parents, addresses, and phone numbers.”

  Peter rumbled. He was their pastor, a barrel-chested, redheaded 45-year-old who sometimes spoke eloquently without saying a word.

  His wife Celeste, so small and fine-featured beside him, asked in her lilting voice, “What is it, Peter?”

  “This is going to upset a lot of people,” he replied. “They will feel they’re being unfairly singled out.”

  Britte’s heart sank. “I’m not even going to press charges.”

  Alec said, “But Cal has to do his job, Britte. Did he talk to everyone already?”

  Cal had stopped by Britte’s house yesterday. She had already told the story to Joel. “Most everyone. A couple of families left town for the holidays.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “No.” She didn’t look back at Joel. He knew Gordon Hughes had been unavailable. “It’s probably just a student who was mad about something. I mean, it’s no secret that I make kids mad now and then.”

  Peter looked from Joel to Alec. “Are the high school students talking about it yet?”

  Joel replied, “No. Hopefully, it’s only a matter of time before they start.”

  Alec propped an ankle across his other leg. “I talked with Drew. I think he was being straight when he said he hadn’t heard anything. And for the record, Britte, he’s not mad.” He grinned. “Anymore.”

  She smiled. “I know. He’s like a little brother to me, and his friends know that.”

  Anne said, “The feeling’s mutual. If he finds out who’s responsible, there’ll be another fight.”

  Joel put a hand on top of her head. “Which you are not going to break up.”

  “Yes, General.” She caught Alec’s confused expression and bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  Anne didn’t let it go. “Britte!” Amazing how the woman could chastise with one syllable.

  Joel chuckled. “It’s a promotion, Anne. I keep telling her I only made it to staff sergeant.”

  Peter asked, “What’s Cal doing next?”

  Yawning, Britte set her cup of decaf mocha on the coffee table. “He’ll probably hang out at the girls games now, too, rather than just the boys. At least I’ve gained a fan. If you’ll all excuse me, I need to go home. Cal will be proud of me because I’m going to ask for an escort. Any offers?”

  Joel’s voice rose above Peter’s and Alec’s, and she gladly accepted.

  “I feel like such a wimp.” Britte walked around Joel and locked the kitchen door they had just entered from the attached garage. “Here you are, standing in my kitchen, and I’m locking up. I can’t even come home alone, and I’ve left a light on in every room in the house. There is something wrong with this picture.”

  No, Joel thought, everything is right with it. He had caught himself more than once in the past few days nearly thanking God for Britte’s dilemma. That didn’t seem an appropriate response and yet, without the impetus of the assault, would they have grown so close so quickly? “Under the circumstances, you’re simply being cautious, as you should be.”

  She held out a hand. It was visibly shaking. “That’s not caution; it’s being a chicken.”

  “Yellow-bellied, lily-livered coward.”

  “Exactly.” Her entire bruised face scrunched into a frown.

  “Britte, you believe in Jesus, right? That He’s with you all the time?” It had been evident tonight in conversations with the Suttons and Eatons that her faith was an integral part of her life.

  She nodded.

  “He’s supposed to be in charge, not you.”

  “I don’t want to be in charge.”

  “Then stop worrying about the need to be escorted home. That’s just the way it is for now. You’ll get through it and be your sassy self again in no time.”

  She crossed her arms, evidently balking at his reprimand.

  “Shall I look around?”

  “Please.”

  He smiled. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

  “You’re pushing it, Mr. Kingsley. When I get sassy again, you’d better watch out.”

  He raised his shoulders to his ears and exaggerated a shudder.

  She gave him a half smile and shrugged out of her coat. Her long blonde hair hung in loose waves. It was brushed off of her forehead, and he saw the creases there smooth out at last. Her squinched eyes opened enough for the blue to shine.

  The whole effect sent him spinning. Literally. He circled the kitchen, unzipping his jacket but not removing it. “Everything looks in order here, Miss O. Nice place, by the way.”

  “Thanks. The dining room is through here.”

  He followed her into the next
room. An oak table and buffet shone under an old-fashioned crystal chandelier.

  “This was my great-aunt’s house. My dad and uncles inherited it, so I was able to buy it from them. I talked them into selling me everything in this room, too. I remember sitting at the table with Aunt Mabel when I was a kid. She was a kindergarten teacher, and I helped her cut and paste things. I loved being here.”

  “Is that when you decided to become a teacher?”

  “That was it.” She grinned.

  He followed her into the living room. A mathematician’s orderly hand was evident everywhere. Nothing was out of place. There was even a neatly decorated Christmas tree in front of the window. “You have a tree!”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “Uh, no. Seems somewhat pointless to go through the motions for myself.”

  “So you don’t have children?”

  The question broke new ground for them. He glanced at her sideways and circled the room. “No. Do you?”

  “You would have known by now if I did. Do you have a wife?”

  “No. Do you have a husband?”

  “No. Do you have an ex of some sort?”

  He halted his circling and studied two abstract paintings on a wall. “Probably of some sort, but not as in wife. How about you?”

  “Uh, fiancé. There was one— Do you have— Never mind.”

  “Do I have a current of some sort?” He turned and looked at her. “No. Do you?”

  “Basketball.”

  Smiling, he gave her a moment. “Any more questions?”

  “That about covers it.”

  “I agree.” So…they were both available. Whatever that meant. “Do you want me to check the bedrooms?”

  “No! I mean—” She shook her head and gazed at the ceiling.

  “Speechless again?”

  “This is getting way too awkward. Why don’t you go down to the basement while I finish up here?”

  “If I’m not back in five minutes, call Cal.”

  She strode past him toward a short hallway.

  Chuckling, he returned to the kitchen and went down the basement stairs. Maybe it was a sugar rush from all the wonderful food he had eaten tonight. Maybe it was a high from the evening’s honest-to-goodness fellowship, something he hadn’t encountered since he first became a Christian. Maybe it was just those blue eyes connecting with him. Whatever, he hadn’t felt like this— Wrong. He hadn’t felt, period, in a long, long time.