by Lyn Cote
“What are your feelings for my granddaughter?”
His mouth went dry. “I love her.”
Lucy gave an exaggerated sigh. “I take it you realized this after you proposed?”
He nodded glumly.
Lucy went on, “So you’ve finally come to see what you should have known for ages, but now you can’t tell her—”
“Because she’ll think I’m saying it to manipulate her into marrying me just for Angie’s sake. I don’t suppose you could talk this over with her?”
“Impossible. If I did, she’d know I’ve talked to you about her.”
“And it would only make me more suspect.”
Lucy sighed loudly again. “This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into. And it makes no sense. In fact, you haven’t made sense for a long, long time.”
He looked at her quizzically. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“That’s obvious.” She looked into his eyes. “Cash, you’ve been running from life ever since your mother walked out on you and your father.”
“I don’t discuss that.”
Lucy crossed her legs and folded her arms over each other. “Too bad. We’re discussing it today.”
“I don’t see—”
“Exactly. You’ve been blind. It’s time you shifted your attention from what was taken from you, to what you were given. Dena did.”
“What are you talking about?” Cash sat back and hunched to one side.
“Dena lost your mother and then your father just like you did. But she never lost hope. Very early she let me introduce her to her Heavenly Father, the author of love, joy and hope. But every time I’ve tried to give you the same gift you turned away.”
“You know I believe in God, Lucy. What has that got to do with—”
“All love proceeds from God. You believe in God, but it’s only a cold, dead acknowledgment of His existence. Love Him. Let Him love you! Thank Him for all the love He brought into your life!”
Cash barked an imitation of a laugh. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”
“No you haven’t! You haven’t lost me or Angie.”
“I lost Dena!”
“You were given her for twenty-two precious years. Can you imagine what your life would have been like if she hadn’t been born? Don’t you realize your mother had already begun to stray before Dena’s birth? God knew you would lose your mother, so he sent you a beautiful sister.”
The frightening thought of never having had his sister in his life chilled Cash. “I loved Dena every day of her life. I’ll miss her every day for the rest of my life.”
“And she loved you, but more important, she turned toward God and life. She lived every day without regret. She didn’t give the past any power over her. We’ve lost her and her husband too soon, but they loved each other with a beautiful, an eternal, love. The same kind of love Jane has in her heart for you.”
Cash froze in his chair, feeling as though Lucy’s words had turned him into wood.
Lucy leaned forward. “God gave you Jane, and you never even noticed.”
“Jane says she doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Jane loves you. She’s loved you for years.”
“That’s not what she plans to do in the future.” The words nearly caught in his throat.
Lucy paused and bent her head in prayer. When she looked up, she said, “Cash, I think it’s time I told you the truth.”
He looked into her eyes. “The truth?”
“Dena came to see me before she and her husband drew up their will.”
A horrible, descending feeling gripped Cash.
“Dena told me that if anything happened to her and John, she planned to give their expected child to Jane.”
“Why?” The single word rattled through him like an earth tremor.
“She was afraid that if anything happened to her, you would retreat into your shell completely and take her child with you.”
A tear slid down Cash’s cheek.
“She paid me the compliment of telling me how much my family had meant to her and how much she loved us.” Lucy’s voice shook and she had to pause to wipe her eyes. “She said she knew if she gave the child to Jane that it would force you to stay in contact with my family.”
Cash felt brittle. Any word or glance might shatter his fragile emotions utterly.
“You’re going to have to talk to Jane about this. But before you do, you need to talk to God. Settle matters with Him, then ask Him for help.”
“How?” he asked through dry lips.
“Just be honest. He’s never let anyone down who asked for help. I’ll leave you to it.” With that, Lucy stood up and left.
For several minutes, Cash sat alone, listening to the pounding rain on the metal roof overhead. Finally, he bent his head into his hands. God, I don’t know where to begin. Lucy says I’ve been a fool. I think she may be right. I love Jane. I need her. What do I do?
The rain came down harder, making an angry din. Cash felt its force echo inside him, in his pulse. Tears, pent up for months and years at great cost, released, pouring from his eyes. Images flashed through his mind. His mother, his father, Dena at different ages, Lucy, Jane, finally Angie. Help me, Lord. I’m through running things my way. I’ve made a mess of everything. If I have any chance to win Jane for Angie and me, help me. Please.”
The shop doorbell jingled. Jane glanced up and was shocked to see Cash walk in. She hadn’t seen him since her parents’ anniversary party. Her unruly heart thudded once, then settled back to its natural pace.
“Hi,” Cash said, trying to look calm. He still felt drained after his encounter with Lucy two days before, but he felt free of the past. Something new, which must be hope, had resulted from his request to God. Jane still might love him. He believed it now.
Maintaining his pose of nonchalance was difficult, but Lucy had suggested an excuse for him to see Jane tonight. In spite of his fledgling faith, his palms were wet from nervousness. What if he opened his stupid mouth and said the wrong thing again?
“Hi, what can I do for you?” Jane answered, masking her displeasure at his invading her shop.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his worn denim jeans, and she could tell by his dusty appearance that he’d probably been working at his site. “Lucy said you needed someone to look at your roof. You’ve lost some shingles. And there’s another storm on the way.”
The Eagle Lake Florist delivery boy, Mel’s brother, breezed in. “Flowers for Jane Everett.”
Chagrined at the boy’s untimely arrival, Jane stepped around the counter, her eyes avoiding Cash’s.
“Roses,” he explained, offering her a long, white box.
She smiled stiffly, feeling Cash’s attention on her. “Now that you’ve told me, should I bother to open them?”
Carmine’s son was not embarrassed. “Why not? Roses are nothing to sneeze at—unless you’re allergic to them.” He grinned and left with an undaunted wave.
She forced herself to open the box on the nearest glass counter. Twelve perfect, dewy red roses and one white one rested on the moist greenery and darker green tissue paper. The prominent note read: “To a charming lady, Tom.” Flushing slightly at the memory of Tom’s parting kiss, she purposefully ignored Cash and tucked the card into her skirt pocket.
“Lucy told me your roof’s been leaking,” he prompted.
“What can you do about it now? It’s late, and I’m sure it will be raining soon,” she rattled off.
“I think I’ll have time to take a look at it before the storm starts.” Gambling on her natural courtesy and the fact that her roof did need attention, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited.
“I suppose you could come home with me. I might as well just close up. No one is going to come out with the sky going dark at 7:00 p.m.” He nodded, and she swallowed the last traces of her irritation. She couldn’t actually blame Cash for not loving her. There was no cosmic law that obliged him t
o do so, just because she had been foolish over him for the past six years.
Obviously Lucy had mentioned Jane’s damaged roof to Cash in passing, and out of politeness he was following it up. Feeling his unwavering attention on her, she finished up her daily closing-up routine and picked up the flower box. During the few-block walk to her house, the gusting wind rocked against them and swirled dust into their eyes, keeping them from talking. Its cool edge signaled the new and powerful front which seemed only minutes away. In silence they reached her door.
With his eyes examining the roof above, Cash left Jane’s side and edged around the house while she hurried inside. Within minutes she had paid an uncommunicative Tish who, though no longer working at the shop, still sat for Angie. Tish left by the back door to go to her car in the alley. As Angie always did after a separation from Jane, she begged to be held.
With a jolt Jane’s stomach rumbled, demanding supper. Outside, thunder rumbled also. Realizing that she would probably be obliged to invite Cash for supper, she grimaced. But resigned to her fate, she carried Angie and the flower box into the kitchen and slid the box onto a lower shelf in the refrigerator. With Angie settled on her hip, Jane went down the steps to her freezer in the basement.
After a hasty search she lifted out a casserole she had made in one of her cooking frenzies. Upstairs she installed Angie in her high chair with miniature crackers on the tray. “Your appetizer, mademoiselle,” Jane murmured and tickled Angie under her chin.
She slid the casserole into the microwave on Defrost and began making salad for two. Fortunately her freezer held a half gallon of rainbow sherbet for dessert, and she had cleaned the kitchen the night before. “My imitation of Suzy Homemaker,” she said to herself, but it was a cozy feeling to be safe at home in the face of the approaching storm.
She heard Cash let himself in the front door, thud quickly up her front stairs and on up into the attic. He thumped around noisily over her head. The sounds Cash made filled the house in a way she hadn’t expected, as though some part of her had been waiting for him to come. She shook her head at herself.
Then Jane heard him exit the same way he had come in. Several minutes later he let himself back in the front door. This time the door got away from him in the wind and banged the outside wall twice before he could latch it. Then without a word he entered the kitchen and sat down at her small table.
Her physical awareness of him jerked all her senses awake. She identified the faint mixing of his scents, a mix that she found compelling as always. The deep timbre of his softly spoken endearment to Angie caught her ear.
Feeling insecure near him, she turned to say something defensive, but instead she bit her lip. His expression was either weary or morose, she couldn’t tell which. She took out a pitcher of iced tea and put it on the red-and-whitechecked place mat in front of him. “Stay for dinner?” she invited neutrally.
He looked up then. “Thanks. If it’s not too much trouble.” He eyed her warily.
“Just heating up a casserole.”
“Sounds good to me.” He gave Angie a tired smile and stroked her head once. Jane noted that it was a much different greeting than the exuberant ones he usually gave his little niece.
Setting the wooden salad bowl at the center of the table, she sat down across from him. He looked so lost Suddenly she longed to say, “What’s wrong, Cash?” But she reminded herself of her resolve. Whatever he was thinking was none of her business and she would have to learn to isolate herself from him emotionally.
Cash was searching his mind, trying to think of what to say to Jane now that he was here with her alone. The only ideas that came to him were mundane comments about her roof. Why did he have to be so completely hopeless when talking to a woman, especially this woman?
After a long swallow of tea, he cleared his throat. “I’ll send my roofer over tomorrow. You’ve lost quite a few shingles on the west side. I’m afraid you’ll get some leakage tonight if this storm doesn’t pass us by.”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of it passing us. Let’s just hope I don’t lose any more shingles tonight.” As if on cue, the first large raindrops splattered against the kitchen window. At the noise Angie swiveled her head to look at the panes of glass.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we’ve been lucky,” Cash said. “Eastern Minnesota got hit with tornadoes the same night your roof was damaged. Two people died.”
Jane opened her mouth to reply. The microwave bell rang. Rising, she rotated the glass casserole dish and reset the timer. When she turned back, Cash was again deep in thought, and Angie was staring at him as though even she had noticed her uncle’s abstraction. It was unusual for him to sit beside Angie without engaging her in conversation and teasing. Realizing this caused Jane a deep disquiet.
Trying not to call attention to herself and stir Cash’s concentration, she quietly finished setting the table for the two of them. The rain dashed against the windowpanes and filled the small room with an intense, relentless rhythm. The microwave bell rang for the second time, and she lifted out the dish.
The aroma of Mexican spices: cumin, chili powder and red pepper, floated over and around the table, bringing her impromptu guest out of his inner concentration. He sniffed broadly and gave her a half smile. “That smells delicious.” He looked back to the gale outside the window. “This storm is going to screw up my building schedule one more time.”
So that was what was on his mind. She was vaguely unhappy and couldn’t put her finger on why. Of course, he wouldn’t have been thinking of her. As she set the dish on the table, she motioned toward Angie, whose head already drooped. “She looks like she may fall asleep before she finishes eating.”
Jane sat down and began to dish up the cheesy beef, beans and cornmeal for Cash. For Angie to eat, she put down chunks of yellow cheese and some wheat crackers while her dish cooled.
“She likes this stuff?” Cash asked.
“You know she loves people food and hates baby food.”
“What’s this called?”
“Enchilada bake.”
He took another forkful. “It’s good.”
She murmured her thanks, but turned her attention to the storm again and frowned. The center of the accelerating storm was advancing on them with frightening speed. Lightning flashed outside the darkened kitchen windows, and thunder punctuated their sentences.
“Did Tom head back for Chicago?” Cash asked as innocently as possible.
“Yes.” She frowned down at her plate.
“I called here several evenings, and Tish said you were out with him.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was irritated with himself. Why bring up the competition—especially when the man’s roses were probably in the refrigerator?
“I was.” She turned to a drowsy Angie, giving her another mouthful of the casserole. She reached over to the counter and lifted the baby’s bottle waiting there. The little girl’s eyelids were steadily drifting lower.
“I can’t believe it’s only three days to her first birthday,” he murmured as he watched Angie sucking her bottle.
Jane stiffened visibly.
Again, he felt her cold response to his words as though shards of ice crackling around his ears. How could he have brought up his day alone with Angie? He could easily guess how much it still upset her. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth in line?
The three of them finished the meal in silence. They cleared the table and filled the sink with soap and dishes. By now the storm was relentless—flashing, booming.
“This system is not moving away as fast as I thought it would,” he said, lifting his voice to be heard. “Do you have a transistor radio—”
Thunder exploded overhead. Angie screamed in fright. Jane leaped to her feet and lifted the shrieking child into her arms.
“That was close,” Jane gasped. She held Angie close, trying to soothe her. The room had gone black, but outside, rapid lightning lit the room like artificial strobe lightin
g.
“That was a direct hit. Where’s your flashlight?”
“I only have a small one, but I’ll get it.” Jane opened a kitchen drawer and found the solid tube of metal by the brilliance of the staccato flashes. She handed it to Cash and he turned it on.
“Let’s go downstairs and check your breakers.”
With one hand she felt her way around the erratically lit room. Angie had stopped screaming, but sobbed raggedly against Jane’s neck. Without speaking, Cash took Jane’s arm. By the thin thread of light from the flashlight, they fumbled their way to the rear of the kitchen and down the narrow, back hall steps. The thunder was now a building crescendo. Jane felt herself tensing with each wave of sound.
Cash used the flashlight to locate the circuit breakers on the basement wall. He checked them manually. All the switches had been tripped. But when he turned them all back to On, no lights from above shone in the rippling darkness.
“Double whammy,” he said.
Boom! Crack! The metallic clatter of hail struck the basement windows.
“What’s happened?” Jane’s voice was loud and shrill.
Cash also raised his voice over the rampaging thunder and hail. “It’s an outage plus your house was just struck by lightning.”
“Struck! That’s never happened before!”
“It’s not that uncommon in a storm like—”
Angie whimpered loudly. The sound caught Cash’s heart. He put his arms completely around Jane, cuddling the baby between them. He murmured softly into Angie’s ear.
Jane felt the little body pressed against her slowly relaxing. The baby’s periodic sobs ebbed, then ceased. Angie shivered once more and let go of the last of her tension.
Taking two tentative steps backward, Jane encountered the edge of the daybed she stored in the basement. Cash let her go, and she sat down on its edge and, humming close to Angie’s ear, rocked gently.
“Can we go upstairs?” Jane whispered.
“Let’s wait. That wind sounds dangerous.” He shone the flashlight up at one of the small basement windows near the laundry area. The window rattled, straining at its latch.
