Lessons in Love

by Yvonne Lehman

  Noah mouthed, “Michael.”

  “How’s...” Michael’s voice sounded as tentative as Noah felt. “How’s Megan?”

  Noah looked at the couch where Megan sat next to Lizzie. She stiffened and leaned forward as if she might stand, her eyes questioning. Then she leaned back again, lifting her chin. She must have realized it was his phone, and not hers, that Michael had called. Her bare shoulder rose slightly as if this didn’t matter.

  Lizzie’s gaze at Noah was one of warning, and Noah half expected her to come and tell Michael off or stomp the phone. Megan whispered something to her. Lizzie’s shoulders slumped as she emitted a heavy sigh.

  He lifted a hand and said, “Sorry.”

  Miss B nodded and he walked out onto the porch.

  “Are you there?” Michael said.

  “I’m here. And Megan is fine.” He almost laughed at the irony of describing her as fine. He stepped down from the porch and walked out onto the lawn where the remnants of the wedding were almost gone. Workers seemed to be looking for any errant flower petal or damage to a blade of grass.

  “She’s a remarkable woman.” If Michael wanted details, he should call her directly. “She does not deserve this secrecy and confusion.”

  “What have you told her?”

  “Nothing. I’ve listened to her tell me what she knows of you, and some of it confuses me, too. She thought you were divorced.”

  “Did you tell her different?”

  “I said I would keep your confidences and I will. That’s not easy. I feel like I’m hurting Megan, too, knowing things but saying nothing. But she knows Loretta is dead.”

  Noah waited so long he feared the batteries would go dead. That said a lot about Michael’s state of mind. “You know, it would make things easier for me if you told Megan everything. My side of things.”

  “Easier? Michael, that would be a cop-out. You have to take responsibility. You have to face it.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I know. And I respect you for that.”

  “Resp—” Michael didn’t even finish the word. Could only scoff.

  “Give it to the Lord, Michael.”

  “Yeah. I know you say that. Sorry. Doesn’t work with me.” The sharpness in his tone turned softer. “You’re sure she’s okay?”

  “Yes, Michael. She’s here at Miss B’s. Her friends’ wedding just ended a short while ago.”

  “Annabelle and Symon,” he said.

  “Yep.”

  “That got to me, too. I can’t see me doing that. I know Megan is...well, you know if you’ve been around her for a while.”

  “You owe her an explanation of some kind. But I can’t counsel you over the phone.”

  “I’m doing what you suggested, Noah. Working in construction.”

  “That sounds good, Michael. And I’m glad you called. It’s good hearing your voice. By the way, where are you?”

  On the way back into the house, Noah knew he should be elated. Michael had called. He was working. Trying. And Noah sort of wished he wasn’t thinking about scripture right now and that God had mysterious ways of working things for good. Things might just be working for good...for Michael. And Megan.

  He went inside. “That was Michael.”

  They already knew that. A few glances slid toward Megan, but she sat stiffly, demurely, probably pretending not to be interested. Miss B asked, “How is he?”

  “He sounded much better than when I last talked with him. At least I know...” He paused and sat in the nearest chair. “I know where he is.”

  Lizzie broke the lengthy silence. “Well?” she demanded, “Where is he?”

  Noah dreaded giving the response.

  “Eleuthera.”

  Chapter 23

  Rain fell for two days. From the sky and not from her eyes. Megan smiled about that. Even though her outside entrance to the upper floor of her house would be delayed before materials would be taken in for renovations, that was fine. Rain wouldn’t last forever and she had no deadline for finishing the B and B.

  She liked not having to go to work. She’d quit the job and began to sketch more than she had in a while. Mudd’s having eaten SweetiePie’s yellow rose had been an inspiration. Now that she was staying at Aunt B’s, the animals provided a lot more incidents worth drawing. Annabelle had already discussed her ideas for children’s books that Megan could illustrate.

  During the rain and when the sun appeared again, they continued with plans for the Eleuthera trip. Noah and Henri were at the house often. Noah would come to check on the progress at the cottage and expected completion before Symon and Annabelle returned.

  Aunt B didn’t ask and Lizzie didn’t tease about whether Megan still intended to go to Eleuthera. Noah talked about how to dress, or underdress, really, and although supplies were sent ahead of them, they should pack plenty of sunblock and work gloves.

  Noah reported that the area churches, schools and mission stations near Eleuthera were looking forward to the American visitors to share whatever they would.

  Megan thought Noah’s eyes often questioned. She hadn’t, except for the evening Michael called Noah. After going to bed and staring at the dark ceiling she’d asked herself, Will I go? Should I go? To see Michael? To be near Noah?

  Those questions weren’t exactly a prayer, so she tried again and asked God to lead her. He led her to sleep and when she awakened she knew the answer to all her questions. It was, Yes.

  She would do what she’d decided in the first place. Share, reach out to others. And while doing so, face the music.

  * * *

  Megan, Lizzie, Aunt B, Henri and Noah flew from Savannah and met up with fifteen people from his church at Ft. Pierce, Florida. They boarded Mission Flight International to Eleuthera. Already, their orientation prepared them for the welcoming they received. Quite soon Megan and Lizzie were paired with other females who would stay in a beachside building. Male workers would bunk in one nearby.

  Aunt B and the pastor’s wife would stay with the Bahamian pastor and his wife. Henri and another physician would stay with a doctor near the hospital.

  Symon and Annabelle flew in the day after the mission group arrived. She would stay with Aunt B, sing and speak at meetings and talk about grooming and nutrition. It delighted everyone to have the former beauty queen include young people and children in her visit.

  Each day at Eleuthera began with sitting on blankets or sand for morning devotions on the beach. The devastation of the already-poorest section of the island was vast. Megan knew her personal problems were small compared to these people’s, whose homes and businesses had been lashed by violent winds and torrential rains.

  The brave spirit of the people was impressive. The mission group came to help, and she experienced the truth of the adage that when you help others, you receive more than you give. Yet, the people appreciated every measurement taken to see what size boards were needed for repair, every board replaced, any damage repaired, ruined furniture removed, all suggestions and advice.

  “I like my job in Savannah,” Noah said one morning while near Megan in a house they were helping repair. “But there’s just something more fulfilling about donating my time to needy people.”

  “Okay,” she quipped, “you can stop the work on my house.”

  “No, no,” he said quickly and grinned. “Present company excluded.”

  She smiled. “I know what you mean. It’s easy to get wrapped up in one’s self. This puts things in perspective.”

  Megan believed she had things in perspective until about midweek, when the temperature rose and the winds picked up. Some of the workers would be needed to keep those repairing the church roof supplied with water. Noah had already told her Michael was working on the roof.

  She saw Michael an
d Noah working near Symon on the steep roof. Both looked her way when the women neared the church. Their hair shone golden and pink in the morning sun. Both wore jeans and T-shirts and looked the part of strong, muscular builders. Noah might be a bit trimmer, maybe thanks to his swimming.

  She lifted her hand. So did Michael, and his water bottle rolled off the roof.

  Lizzie said, “Noah didn’t wave. He must have thought you were waving at Michael.”

  Megan accepted that, appreciating Lizzie’s discernment and indirect way of making a statement. Lizzie knew her well enough to know the wave was like aloha in Hawaii or bonsoir in France. They could mean both hello and goodbye.

  Someone on the ground yelled, “Here you go,” and threw a plastic bottle of water up to Michael, who caught it. Workers were draining bottles and throwing them down, and volunteers would toss full ones up to the roof.

  Megan and Lizzie, with most of their attempts, were more humorous than helpful. They decided they’d hand the bottles to guys more adept at reaching the workers high on the steep roof. She hoped the wave let Michael know she wasn’t suffering, she wasn’t angry and she wasn’t there to question him.

  * * *

  On the day the roof was finished, they planned a dedication service for Sunday morning. On Saturday evening, however, they had their usual evening service on the beach. Several from the city would attend. They set up a tarp and a few beach chairs for those not wanting to sit on the ground.

  Now that the roof was finished, she supposed Michael would move on with the work crew to another project. When Noah strolled up with some of the volunteers, he approached her. “Michael said he might talk to us later today.”

  “Us?” she questioned. But this was not the time for that. Her friends were getting out of cars and heading toward them across the sand. Megan realized how good it was to see Annabelle, Aunt B and even Henri after their being separated for a few days

  The pastor leading the service had asked some of them to say a few words. Henri mentioned the great cathedrals and sculptures in Paris. Megan told of the historic churches and of many periods in Savannah. That led right into the pastor’s remarks, who said they had a church ready for use right now. But they were having church right there on the beach. He reminded them the church is in the heart of man, wherever that might be. They all joined in singing “This Is My Father’s World.” Megan smiled hearing the gifted voices of Annabelle and Noah.

  The beautiful Annabelle ended the service by singing “The Love of God.” Her and Symon’s glances silently spoke loudly of human love, too.

  Megan reflected on that. The human love of personal relationships and the human love of helping others, being there for them in a time of need. Like the mission group was for the people here. Like Noah was for Michael. Often, she had to remind her selfish heart that she respected Noah for that.

  After the service, as others were going in for a prayer of thanks and dedication of the church, Megan saw a familiar figure strolling down the beach. Michael must have known the service was taking place and waited for it to end. Noah noticed, too, and stepped near her.

  “Us?” she said, taking up the conversation where it ended before the service.

  “That’s what he said.” He looked apologetic. “I should leave and let you two—”

  “Leave?” She questioned. “Since we met, you’ve tried to help me understand Michael. You’ve prayed about him and have wanted to help him, and have kept his secrets. Now, when it comes down to the grand finale, you want to leave?”

  “It’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want, Noah?”

  “I want you...to...” Whatever it was pained him. “Deep inside, I want what’s best for you.”

  He sat in the chair next to her as Michael stepped under the tarp.

  “Megan,” he said, “all the apologies and excuses in the world won’t change anything. I was a coward to leave like I did. I am not the man I pretended to be.”

  Megan wanted to help. He looked so uncomfortable, she thought he might turn and run. “I read the newspaper article about Loretta.”

  Michael grasped the pole holding up the tarp. “It’s not...just that.”

  Megan looked over at Noah, who sat stiffly, staring straight ahead, his face taut. “She was—”

  “Just say it,” Noah demanded.

  “Pregnant.”

  Megan almost couldn’t make out the word he said in such a choked voice.

  “Sit down, will you, Michael?” Noah said compassionately.

  Michael did. He leaned forward and rubbed his face for a while and then straightened. “That’s the first time I’ve been able to say it except that once to you,” he said to Noah. He took a deep breath. “She was pregnant.”

  With eyes closed and his hands rubbing his denim-clad legs, he ground out the words. “She told me at the party. Said we could get married. She was happy. I was shocked. Couldn’t imagine her messing up our lives like that. Blamed her. Even accused her of doing that deliberately.”

  Megan glanced at Noah. Yes, she could tell he already knew. Pain was on his face. This was so horrible, but Michael needed to say it, admit it.

  After several gulps he continued. “I killed her with my words before she ran out from the party. Somebody said not to let her leave like that. I don’t know if that’s why I ran out to find her. I don’t know if I cared more about her feelings than I did my own. Regardless, it was too late. So you see...”

  Megan saw.

  She hated to hear it. But she knew he needed to say it.

  “I ruined her life long before she ran into the tree. And I don’t know if it was deliberate or an accident. But the result was the same. And I killed...my own child.”

  How long they sat in silence she didn’t know. It felt like an eternity.

  “Let me get some water,” Noah said. He went over to a box and returned with a bottle.

  Michael opened it and drank. That seemed to help and he continued. “I really thought when I returned to college and met Megan my life was turned around.” He looked at Megan, and his wry smile made dimples in his damp cheeks. “And it worked.” He took a deep breath. “For a while.” He shook his head. “You don’t want to hear all this.”

  “Yes, yes we do,” Megan and Noah both said.

  He breathed deeply. “I really did have the flu during Christmas. That’s the time when you do something special for someone special. What could I do? Confess? Keep it all a secret? Pretend for the rest of my life I was not a...not a...”

  “A sinner?” Noah said.

  “Yeah. Call me what I am.”

  “It’s what we all are, Michael. That’s why we need to accept Jesus in our lives. It’s possible that Loretta and I could have done wrong. We weren’t ready to settle down in marriage.”

  Michael scoffed. “Not you.”

  “Yes, me. And believe me, I’ve thought about knocking your teeth down your throat for what you did to Loretta. And were doing to Megan.”

  “She looks like she’s doing all right.”

  “She didn’t deserve your silent treatment.”

  “She didn’t deserve what I had to offer—a broken life. I was looking for somebody to fix me.” He held up his hand. “Don’t say it. I know. No person can fix me.”

  “That’s right.” Noah went over to where a pair of gloves lay. He picked one up and brought it over. “Michael, what can this glove do by itself?”

  Looking at the way Noah held it limply he shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Noah put his hand into it. “But with this hand in it, it can nail on a roof. It can do nothing alone. It has to have the power behind it.”

  Michael was nodding. “I get it.”

  Noah said it anyway. “There’s not much we can do on our own. We need God’s power in us.�
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  “God forgives, you know,” Megan said.

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” Michael said. “I can’t forgive myself. Don’t know if I ever can. I thought I had, but I went right back into depression. I’m guilty and I know that with time and effort, I can live with it. But not yet.”

  “I think you just took a giant step,” Noah said.

  Michael nodded. “I know.”

  He actually smiled. A sad one. But a smile.

  He pulled his chair up in front of Megan and sat down. He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t honest with you. But I began to be honest with myself. I know I’m not the man for you. But I loved you in my way.”

  She smiled then. She’d loved him, in a way, too. Liked him, cared about him.

  After a gentle squeeze of her hands, he moved away and straightened. “I wasn’t ready to open up to Miss B and your friends. Finding out she gave up her baby made me feel worse. I couldn’t confess what I did—” his voice choked “—to mine.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know about that kind of guilt, Michael. But Aunt B has helped me realize that there are some things we may never get over. We learn to live with them and get on with our lives. I think you’ll be all right.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not angry? Or hurt? Or want me to beg, or anything?”

  They both were grinning. Some of that playfulness was in his manner despite the words. “I hoped for that,” she said.

  “What? Hoped?”

  Before she could form a coherent question, he stood and stepped back, holding on to the long pole. “Noah and I always had the same taste in girls. I tried and succeeded in taking Loretta away from him. I knew if you two—”

  “Stop it, Michael,” Noah demanded. “This is no game.” He glanced at Megan and mumbled, “He reminds me of Lizzie right now.”

  Megan got a glimpse of how they must have played their games in the past. Except for the one that got out of hand, they probably had fun, had a great relationship. “At least I brought you two together.”