by Jenna Mindel
He’d call later and see about bringing her back out. He sensed that she needed family now more than ever. If he could provide that for her, to get her through, he’d do it. He’d become Annie’s family. All he had to do was convince her that it was okay to accept the invitation.
Chapter Six
Salty tears mixed with the foggy drizzle that surrounded Annie, making her whole face wet. She folded the umbrella and laid it at her feet. She didn’t care about the damp. She didn’t care about the chilled air that probably chased many away from the Memorial Day parade progressing down Main Street. She heard the drums played by the high school marching band in the distance. The cheerful rhythm might as well be a buzzing mosquito.
She stared at Jack’s modest gravestone with the inadequate description, Favored son and good husband. Had she really approved that? Her in-laws had picked it out. At the time, Annie didn’t make a fuss because who really cared about gravestones?
Staring at the hunk of stone that was severe and plain, just like Jack’s parents, she realized she’d made an error. She should have picked out something more elaborate. Jack would have gotten a kick out of a mermaid or something equally frivolous.
“What am I supposed to do, Jack? Stop seeing him?”
She didn’t expect an answer. Jack had never answered her right away. He’d look at her with his dark eyes that saw everything and let her rant. “He’s our friend. And a good friend, too. He replaced the roof and he’s helping me cope. Why can’t I see him?”
She paced some more, reliving Marie’s horrible words over and over. Labeled a widow, was she supposed to stop living because her husband was dead? Shut off contact with the only person who knew Jack as well as she did?
“I kissed him. Was that wrong?” Annie plunked down on the wet grass. She didn’t care that her jeans were getting soaked through. Jeans she couldn’t even button. She’d left the top undone and the zipper bit into her skin, so she shifted.
Reliving that kiss shared with Matthew only a week after Jack went into this spot of earth made her even more uncomfortable. That’s what made seeing Matthew dangerous. One kiss had stirred up a tempest. A storm that still raged.
“I felt alone. Really alone, and Matthew understood. He knew I needed warmth. Some kind of real contact, you know?”
Maybe these feelings she had for Matthew were her hormones taking over. Her changing hormones that kept her baby safe made her feel an attraction that shouldn’t be there.
It was simply too soon.
Running her fingers over the cold stone, she lowered her head. “Why’d you die?”
It had been two and a half months since she’d said goodbye to her husband before he’d boarded ship, never to return again alive. There wasn’t a day that she didn’t feel Jack’s absence in her life. But lately, her thoughts were filled with Matthew, too.
“Oh, Jack, I’m so confused.”
Pray.
Annie didn’t hear the word, she felt it. “No.”
God had left her pregnant and widowed.
Pray.
Annie shook her head against the sound of Jack’s voice in her mind. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to need to pray. She didn’t want to need. But tears flowed down her cheeks and the now familiar upheaval in her stomach churned and gurgled.
“God, please...” It was all she could manage.
If what she’d heard at church was true, then God knew her heart better than she did. Maybe He’d understand that she didn’t know how to pray anymore much less know how she should feel.
“Please...”
* * *
“Why don’t you call her?” His mom covered the bowl of her homemade pierogies with plastic wrap. “See if she’d like to come out for a campfire. I have all these leftovers. She can take some home.”
Looking over the leftover BBQ ribs and chicken, Matthew shrugged. “She’s not much of a meat eater.”
“Then take her some salads.” She lifted the bowl. “Take her these. I filled them with cheese and potatoes or sauerkraut and onion. No meat.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No need.” Helen Zelinsky laughed. “You’ve been far away today.”
Matthew loved the way his mom laughed. It bubbled up like a spring of happiness from within and flowed out over the whole family. His mother’s laughter forced a smile in return, even though he didn’t feel like smiling. Even though he’d spotted concern in his mom’s eyes.
She patted his back. “You’ve been moping all day. Are you sure you’re okay?”
He couldn’t use the weather as an excuse. The morning drizzle had stopped when the sun made its appearance. The remaining fog burned off quickly, too. The afternoon climb up to summertime temperatures made him wish he’d worn shorts instead of jeans.
The clang of thrown horseshoes could be heard outside as well as more laughter. The Zelinskys knew a few things when it came to food and the game of horseshoes. He should be outside enjoying himself instead of in the kitchen helping his mom put away leftovers. He shouldn’t be thinking about Annie, but he couldn’t stop.
She’d looked so upset at Jack’s grave. Of course, she was. Her husband was dead. Matthew clenched his jaw. Why’d he feel the need to rescue her from this sorrow he also felt? Grief was natural. Even needed. He should let her process her sadness and get some closure.
“I’m fine.” But he grabbed his phone from his back pocket.
And his mom smiled at him.
He called Annie and walked into the next room.
“Hello?”
Hearing her voice did something to him. Tamping down nerves he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager, Matthew cleared his throat. “Hey, Annie.”
“Matthew?”
“My mom has all these leftovers, including her killer pierogies. Are you going to be around? I can drop them off.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be here.” She sounded fine. Perfectly fine. How’d she manage that after looking like a whirlwind at the cemetery?
“Great, I’ll see you within the hour.” He disconnected but didn’t move. He stared out the windows, not really seeing the green of trees and lawn that framed the small sandy beach.
“Is she okay?” His mom walked into the family room where he stood.
“She sounded good.” Matthew turned. “Do you think I could borrow your garden tiller?”
His mom looked puzzled. “Sure. It’s in the barn. What for?”
“Annie’s garden hasn’t been tilled yet. Can you box up those leftovers while I load my truck? I’m going to head over there now.”
His mom didn’t question him, but he could tell she wanted more information. No doubt, she’d prefer that he bring Annie here instead of going there, but she didn’t say that. She didn’t have to. “I’ll get it ready.”
He pulled his mom into a bear hug. “Thanks.”
She gave him a hard squeeze. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
After he’d loaded and secured the tiller in the bed of his truck, Matthew returned to the kitchen. He grabbed the box his mom had prepared and shifted it to get a better grip. “Whoa, what have you got in here that weighs a ton?”
“Just some syrup.” His mom walked him out.
Matthew bent and kissed her cheek before climbing behind the wheel.
“Where are you going?” Luke tapped the truck’s hood.
“To till up Annie’s garden.”
Luke didn’t look surprised and grinned. “Coming back?”
“Maybe.”
“Darren needs to get beat at horseshoes.”
“Right.” Matthew laughed. No one bested their older brother, except for their dad. And when the two teamed up? Forget it. He waved as he backed out of the driveway.
Maybe he could get Annie to come back with him for the campfire as his mom had suggested. They could throw a few shoes, roast some marshmallows—and then what? Cuddle by the fire? The idea appealed, but didn’t seem right.
Matthew needed to get a handle on what he was doing and why fast. This had to be about helping Annie get through a rough time. This had to be about friendship.
Anything more had to wait.
But waiting was the last thing he wanted to do when he pulled into Annie’s driveway and saw her standing on the porch. Her hair was loose and full. Golden. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss away the worry lines that hugged her mouth.
“What’s that for?” She met him at the sidewalk and pointed at the back of his truck.
He hoisted the box of leftovers. “Your garden.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s leftovers?”
“My mom sent syrup, too.”
“Nice.” She hurried to open the door for him.
He walked into the kitchen and set the box on the table. “You haven’t rented a tiller yet, have you?”
“No.” She peered into the box and pulled out a half-gallon-sized bottle of Zelinsky Syrup. “Wow. This will last me a while. I love your family’s syrup.”
“I know. Jack bought a bottle every Christmas.”
She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears.
And Matthew felt like an idiot for reminding her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She sniffed and then laughed. It was a bitter sound. “No Jack this Christmas.”
Matthew’s stomach tightened into a knot. “I know.”
“At least I’ll have syrup, right?” Annie forced a cheerful voice as she pulled out the foil-wrapped packages and opened one. “Let’s see what we have here.”
Matthew frowned as he watched her struggle for composure.
Then she grimaced at the BBQ ribs. “These will have to go home with you.” Annie wrapped it back up and moved onto another foil package containing grilled chicken and then pierogies. “But these look great. I’ll have this a little later.”
Matthew watched her go through the box. Despite the smiles and cheerful voice, she wasn’t fine. “My mom makes great homemade pickles. There’s a jar of those, too.”
“Tell your mom thanks for me.” Annie put away the leftovers into her fridge. “Do you want anything to drink? Iced tea?”
“Not now.” Matthew headed for the sliding glass door leading to the back deck. “I’m going to take a look at your garden. With this morning’s rain, the soil will be perfect for tilling.”
Annie stopped him with the touch of her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this.”
He looked down at her fingers. She wore a gold wedding band with a square-cut diamond in its center. Annie belonged to Jack and always would. Forcing his hands to remain at his sides, he nodded. “I know.”
“But I haven’t bought any plants or seeds. I thought maybe I’d pass on a garden this year.”
“You’ll regret that come summertime.” Matthew reached for a wavy strand of her golden hair. Lifting it, his fingers grazed her skin above the wide neckline of her top.
He felt her tremble.
“You’re probably right.” Her voice sounded raw.
Matthew rubbed her hair with his thumb a moment more before letting go. Before he pulled her close. “I’ll get to it, then.”
* * *
Annie watched Matthew walk outside into the sun-drenched backyard and let out a ragged breath. That wasn’t compassion she’d read in his eyes. Matthew struggled with the same attraction as she.
She ran shaking fingers through her hair as Ginger’s words about caring for someone new whispered through her thoughts once again. But it was too soon. Much too soon to go there.
Matthew was right about the garden, though. She’d want fresh veggies come August when she had more energy and would need to eat more. But that didn’t make it right to let him do all the work.
Annie stepped onto the deck as Matthew came around the corner hauling a small garden tiller. It was bigger than the electric one she usually rented.
As if sensing her watching him, he looked up and smiled.
“Why are you doing this?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t like watching you do something I usually do for myself.”
He grinned. “Then don’t. Go in and fix a couple of plates so we can picnic when I’m done.”
Annie wanted to argue but in the end, went inside. What was the point? Matthew seemed determined to do things for her. So maybe she should let him. Besides, she could definitely eat. Dinnertime rolled close and her stomach growled to be fed.
In the kitchen, Annie unwrapped the leftovers and made two plates. Ribs for Matthew, chicken for her. She snitched a quick bite before placing both in the microwave. The pierogies and broccoli slaw were stacked in plastic containers. There was more than enough for both of them. It looked like her dinner plans the following night were taken care of, too.
Rinsing off her fingers, she glanced out the window over the sink. Matthew tilled the small garden plot easily enough. The muscles of his arms were taut as he controlled the gas-powered tiller. And he was nearly done.
She set the microwave on a low reheat setting and fixed a couple of glasses of iced tea. Loading everything they’d need on a tray, Annie returned to the back deck and set the table. By the time the microwave beeped, Matthew had finished.
He headed for the laundry room to wash up. “Hey, I think I might have lost my watch. It’s got a brown leather band. If you find it let me know.”
“Okay.” Annie brought both plates outside and set them on the table. “Perfect timing.”
“Thanks.” Matthew sat down and bowed his head.
“Could you say that out loud so it covers me, too?” She scooted into her chair and folded her hands in her lap.
He didn’t look like he wanted to. “It’s my family’s mealtime prayer.”
“That’s fine.” Annie closed her eyes and waited.
Matthew quickly recited the prayer. His voice sounded deep and sure as he repeated the rhythm of words that comforted like worn-in leather.
And these, Thy gifts...
Annie thought about that. Her baby was a gift she hoped to open with good health. Would he look like Jack? She hoped so. Pictures wouldn’t ever be enough to remember her husband, but watching their son grow into someone who resembled his father would help. Wouldn’t it?
When had she started thinking of her baby as a boy?
God gave gifts.
Matthew’s friendship was a gift, too. One she shouldn’t throw away merely because she was a widow now. But she’d have to follow some rules. She needed to protect their friendship even though they missed the person who’d brought them together.
“You okay?”
Realizing Matthew had long since stopped praying, Annie looked up. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”
He covered her hand with his. “I saw you at the cemetery this morning. If you need to unload, feel free.”
She felt her eyes widen. He’d seen her? “I go there sometimes. You know—” Annie stopped. It would sound crazy to say when she needed to talk to him. “Just because. Have you been there?”
Matthew pulled his hand back and shook his head. “No. Not since the funeral.”
Maybe she was morbid to feel closer to Jack there, where his body lay beneath four feet or so of earth. She knew his spirit was with God, but there was something final, a sense of closure perhaps, by talking to Jack next to his ridiculously plain grave stone.
“Next time, feel free to stop.” Annie took a bite of chicken, wondering why she’d offered an invitation. She would not have wanted Matthew there this morning.
“Do you
go often?”
She couldn’t tell whether he thought that was odd or not, but he looked concerned. “Sometimes.”
“Have you thought about talking to someone?”
Annie leaned back in her chair and laughed. “I am talking to someone. I’m talking to you.”
He didn’t see the humor in that.
This time, she covered his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve spoken with my pastor and that was okay. I don’t know. Maybe it’s having gone through this before when my parents died, or my age. Whatever, but really what’s anyone going to tell me? Or do? Jack’s gone and he’s not coming back. I’m dealing.”
He nodded.
“What about you?”
He turned his hand over and held hers. “I don’t know, Annie. My best friend’s gone and there’s this hole in me. I thought being with you, helping out where I can, might fill it.”
“But it doesn’t.” She threaded her fingers through his.
“No. It doesn’t.”
She focused on the contours of his hand, feeling the rough spots of his palm. She built up the courage to finally ask what had plagued her for months. “How’d he look when you found him?”
Matthew took a deep breath and let it back out. “He looked peaceful. I thought he was asleep at first but knew that couldn’t be. Jack never overslept on duty.”
Annie closed her eyes, grateful for that. “No. He wouldn’t.”
“It was quick at least.”
She looked into Matthew’s face. His eyes had filled with tears, too. “I’m sorry you found him.”
“Tough image to shake.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Annie went to him. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she felt him tense and then relax. It was an awkward embrace with her stooping down to meet him where he sat. But he quietly held onto her and tucked his face into her neck.
“We’re going to be okay, you and I,” she whispered.
