“I didn’t need to see that. What was I thinking?”
“If you want to visit too—”
The woman pushed away from the wall. “We’ll be moving.” Three steps from Willow Sharon turned and stared at Willow. “When the thing came out about the…thing in your bathroom, I tried to get Chelsea to find someone else. I just thought—well, you know what I thought.”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll understand,” Willow managed to choke out, “but honestly, I need to know soon before I become any more attached.”
“No. That’s just it. Seeing you with Chelsea—you’re giving her what I need to be and can’t. Thanks.” A weak smile punctuated the confession. She took a little breath and added, “Tell Chelsea I’ll be in the car.”
“Would you like me to take her home?”
“No. I don’t want to alienate her any further.”
Willow waited until she was ensconced in the van, windows up, air conditioner blasting—freezing really—and squealed. She whipped out her phone and punched Chad’s number. “So… I guess we should change our ideas for a baby’s name.”
“Boy? Okay, what were you thinking?”
“Instead of Karianne Olivia, I want Kari Olivianne.”
“What!” Chad laughed. “You got me.”
“Guess where I’m going?”
“Fabric store on Westwood?” Chad hollered for Aiden Cox to slow down. “Kid is determined to risk his neck with speed now that he wears that helmet.”
“Nope. I’m going to the fabric store in Rockland. I want to tell Josh. Won’t he be excited! When they came by last month, he said they had the most amazing pink wool flannel he’d ever felt. I want to make… something out of it.”
Chapter 161
April-
We’re making changes around here. Doing it has dropped a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t know I carried. Strange, when Chad first encouraged me to take part in the Women’s Retreat thing, I resisted. Now I look forward to it and I know why. I’ll be talking about my life again—my real one. This won’t be a talk about how to journal a busy life filled with everything that can be done. This will be about journaling the life that you believe the Lord wants you to live.
There lies the difference. I allowed good things to become more important to me than the things that God has chosen for me. I allowed myself to become caught up in the busyness of life rather than being busy with my life.
The boys do not walk. I thought they would. I mean, Lucas took those first steps, and it gave me an idea of what darling little baby legs looked like as they toddled around the house. Liam was frustrated and fought for the same talent. Then, out of the blue, the boy stood and ran. He ran for my legs, threw his arms around them, and so help me, I swear the boy crowed. Lucas was clearly jealous. So, he ran to me too. They haven’t walked since. Furthermore, their competitiveness is epic. I had no idea such tiny little people could be so much like James and John—fighting for preeminence.
Oh! And it’s a girl! We’re having a girl! Walden Farm will have a Kari again. Lucas, Liam, and Kari. They sound well together. Pigtails. Gingham. Chad keeps talking about gingham. I didn’t know he knew what it was, but I bought some when I told Josh at the store. I wanted to have a nice visit, but he’d just gotten back from break, so I couldn’t linger. We need to have them out again. I’ve missed them.
Chad and I are better. I didn’t know we weren’t “right” anymore, but we are now. There’s a difference. Things seem back the way they were back whenever they were that way. Oh my, that makes no sense and is utterly accurate at the same time.
Tomorrow, the first person comes to interview. We’ve decided to put a travel trailer on the property. After six months, if all goes well, we’ll bring in a modular home. It seems silly to buy a house for someone that might not work out. If we don’t find a good fit for us, we’ll scale back the farm. As Granddad said, “It’s better to have an empty barn and full lives than full barns and no life.”
God is so good to us.
Oh, and hydrogen peroxide is a very inexpensive stain remover for little boys who are learning to eat good food. Chad says we can buy industrial sized bottles in Rockland. I have it on my list for when I go stay with Mom the weekend they do the bathroom. I hope that is sooner rather than later. I am becoming worn out just thinking about it.
That’s odd. Chad is coming up the drive. Two hours early. I hope he’s ok.
Willow abandoned her journal and rushed out the door. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s talk inside.”
She started to turn but Chad stopped her. “No, here is fine. Sorry, I’m rattled.”
“So, what—”
“It’s Leo. I don’t know what’s going on, but the chief is being really…” Chad shrugged. “I don’t know how to say it but he’s being weird and something happened in town—Varney’s not even letting us say what.”
“So you came home to tell me that something happened but you can’t tell me what it is? Couldn’t you call if you felt the need to share that non-information?” When he didn’t laugh, Willow’s heart sank. “It’s serious then, isn’t it?”
“Serious enough that I want to cancel the interview with that Rockland probation officer.”
“You don’t think Leo—”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. But this just drove home the point that criminals’ pasts can catch up to them. Not at my house, Willow. I won’t invite that kind of potential danger around my wife and kids.”
“Fork it over then.”
Chad stared at her. “What?”
“Your card.”
“Huh?”
Laughing, Willow nudged him. “You can’t play the husband card if you don’t fork it over.”
He blinked. Twice. After several seconds, Chad shook his head and leaned against the hood of the truck. “I can never predict you.”
“What?”
“You’re not arguing about how we can’t blame one guy for another guy’s problems or whatever.”
Willow stepped into his arms and wrapped hers around his waist. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady, if a bit rapid, thud of his heartbeat. “Chad, would I have ever been okay with risking anyone’s safety?”
“No, but—”
“And didn’t you say you’d never do this unless you felt you had no choice?” She lifted her eyes to his. “Right? Something about never leading me where I’m not ready to go? I figured that applied to never letting me go where your conscience prohibited too.”
“Well yeah, but—”
“So I suspect it was really hard for you to come out here and tell me this—probably why you did it in person—”
“Wouldn’t I be more likely to avoid—”
Willow laughed, shaking her head as she said, “No way. Not you. The harder it is for you, the more likely you are to face it head on. It’s one of the things I respect most about you.”
“Really?” Despite his surprise, Chad looked pleased.
“I’ve noticed that a lot of men avoid confrontation with their wives. They’ll call out a friend or someone they don’t like, but with wives, they just work around the problem until it’s solved or circumstance forces it. You don’t do that.”
His arms tightened around her and suspicious huskiness filled his voice as he murmured into her hair, “You don’t know how much it means to me that you said that. I—man, Willow. I really needed that right now.”
Even after two years of marriage, Willow still felt awkward initiating a kiss. She’d hold his hand, snuggle up to him anywhere and at any time, but other than a quick peck on the cheek as she left or he did, kissing just didn’t come naturally. The times she did, she also knew he noticed and appreciated it. That afternoon was no different.
The boys’ wails drifted from the upstairs windows. Willow sighed and stepped back. “Guess I have to go rescue them from the horrors of life in a crib.”
Chad caught her hand and pulled h
er close again. He gazed down at her, smiling and then tugged the hair tie from the end of her braid. She didn’t even protest; time had taught her it was futile. With familiar slowness, he separated the braid and ran his fingers through the sections to let them fall naturally.
“I love you, lass.”
A lump swelled in her throat, but she managed a grin and choked out, “I know. I’m—” She kissed him once more, lingering only for a second before rushing off to the house and to her demanding sons.
Chad crossed his arms over his chest, listening, waiting for that moment—there it was. Instant cease of screaming. She’d entered their room. With him, they always gave one last wail of protest as if to assert themselves in some way, but with her—never. The moment they heard her voice as that door opened, the cries stopped and semi-toothy grins appeared.
Two days later, Cheri’s car stood parked behind the van when Chad arrived home from work. He had expected Willow in the garden, but instead, the boys half-destroyed the living room while his wife and sister sat on the couch in deep conversation. “Hey, squirt.”
“Shut up, dork.”
“Well, she’s in a lovely mood, isn’t she?” Chad bent to kiss Willow’s head before adding, “What brings you out here?”
“Because I can’t want to see my nephews without another reason. Fine, I’ll go.”
“Knock it off, Cheri. He’s not the enemy. That’s exactly the kind of response you usually expect from him.” The edge in Willow’s voice told Chad more than his sister could ever imagine.
“What happened?”
The women answered in one unified name. “Chuck.” However, Willow added, “Although, from what I can tell, Cheri—”
“So now it’s my fault? The guy is a jerk. Everyone knows it. I try to help him—”
“Whoa…” Chad sat on the coffee table and tried to read his sister’s face. “What’s going on here?”
Cheri refused to answer, but Willow seemed to have no scruples. “They had a fight. Apparently Chuck’s apology was… how did that movie we watched put it—about the cottage?”
“Insufficiently grand?”
She nodded. “Right. Chuck’s apology was ‘insufficiently grand’ for her. Good way of putting it.”
“He said, ‘Well since it always has to be my fault, I’m sorry.’”
“He’s got a point,” Chad admitted.
“What! You know who he is. Of course it’s his fault!”
“What is?” Before she could go off again, he clarified. “I mean, exactly what happened?”
His little sister pouted on the couch much as she had most of his childhood. Her arms crossed over her chest and her lip barely protruding—she looked six instead of twenty-two. When her little charade didn’t produce the result she’d expected, Cheri threw up her hands and said, “Fine!”
“Oh, yeah,” Chad said, winking at Willow. “This is gonna be good—and your son is about to destroy that book.” While Willow jumped to save her prized copy of Life with Father, Chad settled himself beside his sister and draped an arm over her shoulder. “So, what’s up?”
“We were just at this party—you know for Drake Thomas’ graduation?”
“No, but okay.”
“Anyway, one of the guys asked where the bathroom was. I tried to tell him but he came back twice asking which way again.”
“The Thomas’ do have a big house, but that powder room is right under the stairs.”
“It was occupied. Mr. Evans.”
“Say no more,” Chad, insisted, wincing at the idea of anyone having to go in there after the infamous Mr. Evans.
“So I took him to the one by the mudroom, but it was occupied too. So then I took him upstairs. When he got done, he found me and started talking. I think he’s family—seemed not to know anyone but Drake and Mr. and Mrs. Thomas.”
“Okaaay…”
“Well, Chuck got all mad. At first, he did great—didn’t say anything offensive, but when the guy—”
“Does this guy have a name?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say—didn’t get a chance to.” Cheri rolled her eyes. “He just asked me if I wanted something to drink and Chuck said he’d get it if I did.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, nothing if he stopped there, but the next thing I knew, Chuck was going all alpha-dog on the guy. I swear I could smell the testosterone!”
Something sounded off to Chad. “What else did he say to unleash the dog within?”
“Huh?”
“What else did the guy say after Chuck said he’d get the drinks?”
She thought for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Sheila Dayton stopped me and asked if I’d seen Brad, but I don’t think the guy said anything. This is Chuck, Chad. It doesn’t have make sense. He’s ridiculous.”
“Then why do you care?”
Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I don’t know…”
“That’s a lie.”
Chad and Cheri stared up at Willow. She stood a few feet away holding Liam and shaking her head. Chad spoke first. “What?”
“She knows why she cares; she just doesn’t want to admit it.”
“I do—”
“Willow’s right,” Chad agreed. “We all know why. So just admit it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Willow stepped closer, kneeling to let Liam down again. “Why?”
“It just makes everything worse.”
Chad pulled out his phone. “Dial Chuck’s number. I don’t think I have it anymore.”
“Cha—”
“I’m pulling rank if you don’t.”
Cheri sighed. “If I wanted Dad’s opinion, I would have gone to the store.”
“You didn’t, because you know you’re wrong,” Willow muttered.
“I am not! He totally freaked out and was rude to the poor guy, like he always is!”
He couldn’t help himself. Chad laughed. “C’mon, Cheri. Do you hear yourself? Why do you think he made an apology that says, ‘It’s always my fault so I’m sorry?’”
“Well it is!”
“The number?” Chad stared pointedly at his phone.
Cheri punched numbers into it and passed it to him. While he waited for Chuck to pick up, Chad stepped out onto the porch and ignored the indignant tirade she began once the door shut behind him. “Hey, Chuck. It’s Chad.”
“That’s what caller ID says.”
“Cheri’s here.”
“Great. Look,” Chuck sounded defeated as he continued, “just get it over with. I’m done.”
“Get what over with?”
“Chewing me out for something—whatever it is this time. I’ll leave her alone. I’ll leave everyone alone. It’s not worth it.”
Chad had never heard Chuck sound so wounded. The bluster and bravado that characterized the man didn’t surface at all. “What happened?”
“Seriously? Why do you care? If you’re not going to blast me, call back when you’re ready—”
“Chuck, I’m serious. Something doesn’t add up, and I want to know what it is. What happened after you said you’d get her drink. Oh, and why did you say that?”
“Look, the guy was totally coming onto her. I didn’t care that she missed it—was kind of glad. I said I’d get the drinks because it seemed like what she’s always telling me to do—hint. Well, I hinted.”
“Okay. Sounds reasonable to me. How sure are you that he was flirting?”
“No doubt at all.”
The words were pure Chuck. Their boldness, conciseness—everything screamed Chuck Majors has spoken. However, they lacked his usual confidence. Instead, hurt and a bit of fear hovered in the man’s tone. “Ok, so what happened when she was talking to Sheila?”
“Who’s that?”
“What happened,” Chad said again, with more patience than he felt, “when she talked to the blonde gal with the green glasses?”
“Oh, her—funny looking gal. Weird glasses.�
��
“Yes, and…”
“Oh, right. The dude.” Chuck didn’t respond for a minute. “Remember how Willow got all ticked off at me for saying something about Cheri’s—”
“Um, yeah. Don’t make me hear it again. Just go on.”
“Well, this guy made a crack about her—”
“Okay. Got it.” Chad rolled his eyes and prayed for another baby boy. Lord, I don’t think I can take listening to guys talk about another family member’s assets like this. Boys are best.
“Oh, and by the way, Chad?”
“Yeah.”
“I get it now. I mean, I really never did before. It seemed like a compliment. Now I get it.”
“It’s because you love her, Chuck. It helps you filter things in a totally different way.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not going to do me any good now.”
“Don’t give up on her. I know my sister—better than you do still, but you’re gaining on me. She will want you to fight for her. Can you come out here?”
“Chad, she doesn’t want me out there. I can usually push, fight for it, ignore protests. I can’t right now.”
“She wants you. You have to trust me on this. She does want you.”
Several seconds passed as he waited for Chuck to answer. At last, the man sighed. “I’ll come, but if she attacks me, you can arrest her.”
That settled, Chad went inside to do the hard task. That thought prompted a snicker. Who would have ever thought he’d consider Cheri a harder task than Chuck?
“Ok. I got the story out of him.”
“So what happened? The guy existed?”
Willow growled a warning but chased after Lucas instead of saying what was on her mind. Chad snickered again. “You’re not naïve. You’re not dumb. You had to know the guy was flirting with you.”
“Well, duh.”
“But Chuck is supposed to ignore that.”
“No, but he’s not supposed to freak out either. We’re not even ‘official’ or anything.”
“Official? Seriously?” Chad rolled his eyes. “What makes someone official?”
“These days? Facebook. If the relationship isn’t ‘Facebook official,’ it’s not a relationship or it’s doomed to failure. Obviously, we know which it is for me.”
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 5 Page 17
