Love in a Fix

by Leah Atwood

  They appeared blissfully happy in their moment, and she hesitated to break it up. This Christmas was special, a time for bonding between them. Her role could wait.

  She went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Then turned on the oven to preheat and grabbed two breakfast casseroles from the fridge. She’d prepared them last night, so all she had to do this morning was remove the foil and pop them in the oven, which she did despite the oven not being finished preheating. She fixed two cups of coffee, and then joined her family.

  Josh remained at the tree, eagerly eyeing the presents, but no longer touching them now that Shep had moved away. “Can I open them now?”

  “Just another minute.” She set the two cups on the coffee table and went to the tree.

  Shep crossed the room after lighting the various candles she’d placed on the mantel and end tables. “I’ll help sort them.”

  The task wasn’t hard since they’d laid them out in an organized fashion last night. Less than two minutes later, Josh sat beside his pile on the floor. Lyndsey sat on the middle cushion of the couch with a small stack beside her. Next to her, Shep sat with his gifts at his feet. There was one gift for him not in the mix, which she’d give him later when they were alone.

  “Now?” Impatience touched Josh’s voice, causing her and Shep to laugh.

  “Yes, but one at a time,” Shep instructed.

  She delayed opening her presents, as did Shep, in favor of watching Josh and sipping coffee.

  His exuberance brought sunshine into the room, even with the curtains drawn. A squeal of delight for the toy dinosaurs, a bright smile for the building blocks. He didn’t try to tear through them as she’d expected, but stopped to examine each gift as it was revealed.

  When he finished, he ran to her, throwing his arms around her then Shep. “Thank you Mommy and Daddy. This is the best Christmas ever!”

  His unadulterated gratitude brought proud tears to her eyes. These were the moments when she knew she must be doing something right.

  “There’s one more.” Shep stood, then grabbed Josh’s hands.

  Lyndsey let Shep lead him to the back door. The swing set was his idea, and she wanted Josh to associate the gift with Shep. She prayed they’d have many father-son moments playing on it.

  “You have to close your eyes.” Moving behind him, Shep covered Josh’s eyes and opened the patio door, giving a straight view to the playset. He lifted his hands. “Now you can open them.”

  Josh’s eyed spread wide and his mouth gaped. “Is that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve always wanted one.” Josh threw his arms around Shep’s legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Glimmers of love filled Lyndsey. Not a love that strikes like lightning, but the type reminiscent of a first snow that steadily falls until it covers the dead grass of autumn in a tranquil portrait. She closed a fist over her heart, thanking God for giving them this Christmas.

  ***

  Josh fell asleep early on Christmas night, voluntarily going to bed at seven instead of his normal eight o’clock bedtime. He’d spent the morning playing with toys, and in the afternoon, they’d all bundled up after lunch with Shep’s family and ventured outside to the new playset.

  Scraps of wrapping paper littered the room, despite their attempts to clean as they went. Lyndsey bent down to pick up another piece and tossed it in the garbage bag.

  “Do you plan on staying up a while? If so, I’ll start a fire.” Shep sidled to her, handed her a torn box.

  “A fire sounds nice.” Strong hands pressed into her shoulders.

  He rubbed circles, soothing her knotted muscles. “Take a break. You’ve been going all day.”

  His breath on her neck made it hard to breathe. “There’s not much left to clean up.”

  “Then no one will notice if it’s still there.” One hand left her shoulder and reached around to take the bag from her.

  She gave up her resistance and went upstairs. Tucked away in her nightstand drawer was Shep’s Christmas present, the one she’d saved for last. Please let him understand the meaning behind it. She wanted to tell him the words, let him know she’d fallen in love with him, but every time she practiced her speech, the words never came.

  The envelope burned her fingertips. Her heart pounded and legs wobbled as she walked down the steps.

  Shep squatted near the brick fireplace, poking the wood and flames. “Nothing like a warm fire on a cold, Christmas night,” he said without turning around.

  Passing the couch, she grabbed the fleece throw hanging over the back. “We can sit by it for the full effect. I’ll even mull some cider.”

  When Shep turned around, his brows arched with questions. She knew what he thought. Sitting by the fire was a romantic overture, and she never made those. A hint of a smile appeared. “I’ll pass on the cider and take conversation in its place.”

  The envelope fell to the floor when she went to spread the blanket. She hurried to pick it up and stuck it in her jeans pocket. While she situated their sitting spot, Shep turned off the overhead lights and plugged the Christmas tree lights in again, along with the lighted garland on the mantle and over the doors. He grabbed the stereo remote and soon the relaxing strains of Christmas jazz added a dreamy aura to the room.

  Lyndsey sat on the floor, resting her back against the bricks and extended her legs straight out. Shep’s gift sat to her left.

  “Did you have a good Christmas?” he asked, lowering himself to the floor and sitting closely on her right.

  “A great one. Possibly the best.”

  He rewarded her answer with a smile. “I can’t remember ever having so much fun. There’s nothing like the excitement of a child on Christmas.”

  “Did you hear him singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Jesus after dinner? It was so sweet, I was afraid he’d stopped if I moved to get your attention.”

  “I did. You’ve done a great job raising him.”

  Silence fell between them. The echoes of her heart beating thrummed in her head. If she didn’t give it to him soon, she’d lose her nerve. Her fingers inched to the envelope, hesitating to grasp it. “I have another present for you.”

  His gaze focused on her. Seeming to sense that whatever it was would be a big deal, he didn’t offer banalities, or tell her she didn’t need to get him anything else. He simply accepted the offered gift. “Open it now?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, shutting her eyes to block his reaction. Anxiousness strung her nerves too taut to accommodate further weight on them.

  Her plan backfired. All her remaining senses intensified when she closed her eyes, and they zeroed in on Shep. The fibers of his sweater brushing against her. The woodsy scent clinging to him from the fire. The sound of the envelope flap being opened. She sucked in a deep breath, holding it until he took her hand in his.

  “This is a reservation for a stay at Quilted Pines this weekend.” His tone came in halfway between a statement and a question.

  She squeezed his hand, unintentionally, and opened her eyes to him. “I thought it could be our honeymoon.”

  “Our honeymoon?” His throat bobbed with a forced swallow.

  All the words from her planned speech evaporated. “Do you remember the day you proposed, and we discussed all the reasons why we should or shouldn’t get married?”

  “Yes.” He drew the single syllable word into two.

  “Are those terms subject to change? Can we change our minds about the reasoning?” Contrasting his slow drawl, her words ejected in rapid fire.

  “Depends. What changes are you talking about?” He stared at her intently as if trying to keep up with her bouncing topics until she reached the final answer.

  “We agreed part of the reason we’d be a good match is because neither of us would expect love from the other since we had none left to give.” The last words came out in a strangled cry. Oh, how she prayed she hadn’t read their situation incorrectly.

  Shep shifted h
is body until he sat in front of her, not beside her. One hand gently brushed her cheek. “That was the dumbest thing we ever said. Those who have loved deeply and experienced the crushing pain of its loss can’t turn off that part of them that gives their all to another person because they know too well the beauty of true love and its life-affirming power. To deny that is foolish.”

  Her breathing hitched in her lungs. “I…I…I lo…” She couldn’t do it. Why wouldn’t the words come out?

  “I know, Lyndsey.” He leaned his forehead against hers.

  His constant patience bolstered her courage to finish. “I thought I could have a full marriage without love, based only on great affection, but I couldn’t. Love has to be part of the equation for me.”

  “Me too, only I didn’t realize that until my love for you opened my heart.” His voice dropped low and husky.

  “Can we start fresh, let this weekend be the beginning of forever?”

  He didn’t hesitate a bit. “Yes.”

  Could she finally say the words she’d kept close to her heart? Since she was eight, she’d only said the words to two people— Josh and Mark. She opened her mouth, then clamped her jaw. You love Shep. He’s your husband and a good man who deserves to hear you tell him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. For a while now, but do you know when I knew for certain? That day—“

  “In the attic,” she finished.

  “How’d you know?” He jerked his head backward in a surprised motion.

  “Because that’s also when I knew. You’ve been in my life for so long that I took your presence for granted, but when we read that verse, it clicked. Every trial and obstacle we’ve been through was another step down a path to bring us together.”

  “Merry Christmas, love.” Shep lowered his head, ending their evening with a kiss full of promise for their future.

  Chapter Twelve

  After a leisurely Saturday morning and lunch, Shep and Lyndsey left their secluded cabin outside Quilted Pines and walked to town. Compacted snow and dead leaves crunched under their feet. In a nearby tree a northern cardinal sang.

  “I wonder where he is?” Lyndsey craned her neck to see the treetops.

  “Up there.” Shep pointed to a pine shorter than its surrounding counterparts. “Did you know in most North American bird species, it’s the male who sings?”

  “No, I didn’t. Is it a mating call?”

  “I don’t know that much. If I were a bird, I’d sing for you, to tell you how much I love you.” He winced. Man, that sounded cheesy once I said it.

  If Lyndsey thought so, she didn’t let it show. She squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. “I’d sing one for you in return if you don’t mind it being off-key.”

  He couldn’t stop his laughter. Even if she did sing out of tune—which she did, but he’d not admit the fact—he’d think her voice beautiful. It was that crazy little thing called love. “You can sing for me any time you’d like.”

  She laughed as well. “I heard your hesitation.”

  “Never.” Winking, he chuckled some more.

  Standing closer to him, her arm laid over his as they walked. “This is nice, having this time alone.”

  “Thanks for making the arrangements.” He smiled again, unable to stop if he tried. “Best Christmas present I’ve ever got.”

  “I should have thought that through.” Shaking her head, she asked with a grin, “How will I top it next year?”

  “Hmm. I have my health and everything material I could need. I have a gorgeous wife, whom I adore, and a son I already miss.” As he said each item, he counted off on a finger. “Maybe a daughter?”

  “Lord willing, I’d like that. Or another son even.” She glanced down at her stomach and blushed. “Maybe there’s one already on the way.”

  Could they be so blessed? “I’d love any baby we have, boy or girl.”

  They crossed a final line of trees and a grouping of businesses came into view. A popular vacation spot in summer and quiet retreat in winter, the village of Quilted Pines was situated off the beaten path and deep in the heart of rural Pennsylvania. It boasted a line of small shops and restaurants along Gulliver Lake and was known for its small-town cozy atmosphere.

  He held firmly to her as they navigated a steep embankment leading to the sidewalk. “Where to first?”

  “I read online about a candle store that hand crafts every product in the store. Would you mind if we stopped there?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  They exchanged the secret smile of newlyweds. He felt a decade younger and didn’t care if they came off saccharine sweet. After all the heartaches he and Lyndsey had experienced in life, they deserved to bask in their newfound love. This weekend’s purpose was to celebrate them as a couple and their marriage.

  A peddler had a stand set up at the beginning of a cobblestone street. As they approached, he held out a vibrant red rose. “A flower for the lady, sir?”

  “I’ll take three.” He handed the man a twenty-dollar bill and accepted the roses. Once they’d walked a half dozen feet, he stopped and gave them to Lyndsey. “One is for the past, to remind us where we’ve been. The second is for today that we always cherish the present. The last one is for our future and all the memories we’ve yet to make.”

  Holding them to her nose, she inhaled their sweet fragrance. “Thank you.”

  A sign caught his eye, and he pointed down the street. “I think that’s your store.”

  By late afternoon, they’d thoroughly investigated all the stores and had several bags of wares to take home.

  “One more stop for today, but we can drop these off at the cabin first,” he told her after leaving the gourmet coffee and tea shop. “I made dinner reservations for us at Gulliver’s Lodge.”

  Her face beamed. “How’d you do that? I called when I first made our reservations at the cabin and they were booked.”

  “I told them it was our honeymoon and this would make your day.” He cast her a wink. “Plus I left my number in case they had any cancellations and they called with an opening while you were in the knickknack shop.”

  She rewarded him with a long hug and kiss. “I love you.”

  They left town and followed the path to their cabin. The winter sun set early, casting amber hues over the earth and through the pine branches. Their cardinal from earlier had left or went quiet. The forest was a tranquil retreat from the world, their private oasis.

  After dropping off their bags and changing into appropriate dress for the restaurant—black dress pants and a royal blue shirt for him and a sapphire blue cocktail dress for Lyndsey—they returned to town, this time using the main road and driving. With nightfall and dropping temperatures, the truck made a better mode of transportation than feet.

  At the restaurant, he escorted his bride to the door. They didn’t have to wait for their reservation and a twenty-something woman with her hair in a bun led them to their table.

  Once alone, they had time to observe their surroundings.

  “The view is breathtaking.” Lyndsey’s gaze focused on the landscape out the window by which they’d been seated.

  “I agree.” His eyes rested on her and his response had nothing to do with the pale silver moonlight dancing on the waters of Gulliver Lake.

  Her eyes shifted to him, a flush appearing when she must have realized he stared at her. “I’m so happy, Shep. Pinch me and tell me this is real, that I won’t wake up and find it all a dream.”

  Reaching over the table, his hand found hers, wove their fingers until they were locked in a tight grasp. It was a rare time today they didn’t have a form of contact. “This is love, pure and true and good.” He squeezed her hand. “It doesn’t get more real than this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lyndsey sat at her work desk, checking her watch for the fifth time that hour. She covered the yawn forcing its way out and refocused her eyes on the computer screen. The report reflecting new safety data for her boss
wouldn’t compile itself, but she could only think about going home and curling up in bed.

  All the changes in her life since fall made concentrating on work hard enough, but toss in a lack of sleep for the last two weeks and focus became nearly impossible. After Christmas and their impromptu honeymoon, they’d had three weeks of married bliss before the stomach bug hit their house.

  Josh came down sick first. The preschool called her at noon on a Tuesday to pick him up, and she’d had to stay home with him all week, missing her three shifts at the office. Just when they thought the germs had left, Shep took ill. The virus hit him hard, but her stubborn husband insisted on working. By day three, he couldn’t get out of bed and had no choice but to stay home. During a tense weekend, she’d been worried he’d end up in the hospital for dehydration.

  This week her boys were the pictures of health again, but it didn’t look like she’d be spared. Two nights in a row she’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and she’d spent the majority of her lunch hour in the bathroom.

  Her phone pinged, and she checked the messages. A text from Shep.

  —Picked Josh up from preschool on my way home and he’s helping me make your favorite vegetable soup for dinner.

  Typing with her thumbs, she sent a reply. —You’re the best. Thank you. Xoxo.

  She smiled through her exhaustion, vowing to eat the soup no matter how much her stomach revolted. Even in sickness, life as Shep’s wife was fulfilling and amazing. Everyday brought new adventure in learning different facets of him and falling deeper in love. She shuddered to think of all she’d have missed out on if she’d ignored the nudge to marry him.

  “Knock, knock.” Raymond Aguilar, her boss, stood at her open door. “How are those reports coming along?”

  “They’ll be finished by the time I leave.” One way or another.

  “Can you spare ten minutes for a meeting in my office?”

  Not really. “Yes, sir.”

  “Come see me at four forty-five. If you have the reports finished then, would you mind printing a copy and bringing them with you?”