Mending Places

by Hunter, Denise

  Keith was still standing when she entered the house. His gaze was taking in the appearance of the house. He turned when the door swung shut behind her. “The house looks nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  They stood several feet apart, looking everywhere except at each other. There were so many questions she wanted answers to. Who was she? When did it start? How far have things gone? Do you love her? Do you love me? Are you leaving us? And the one that kept her awake at nights: why?

  Questions she wanted to ask; answers she dreaded to hear. But none of that mattered right now. She must stay focused on her goal, not let her emotions take over.

  Natalie sat on the sofa hoping Keith would follow her lead. Don’t make me ask you to sit as if you’re a guest.

  He didn’t. He rested his elbows on his knees, and she watched him twiddle his fingers. He always did that when he was nervous.

  She started with the heavy artillery. “The boys miss you.”

  “I miss them too.”

  “I miss you.”

  The silence was deafening.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure why you felt you had to leave, but I want you to know I’m willing to fix whatever’s broken in our relationship. Obviously our marriage isn’t meeting your needs.”

  His eyes met hers, then darted away. “It might be too late.”

  Her stomach bottomed out. “We won’t know until we try.” She walked to him on trembling legs and knelt at his feet. “Remember when we first met? I was lying there in the snow seeing stars dance around in my head, then you appeared.” A smile lifted her lips. “I thought I was imagining you. You asked if I was okay, then you helped me to my feet.” She took his hand. She felt a bolt of joy when she saw he was still wearing his wedding band. “I swear I could feel the heat of your skin through our gloves.”

  “I remember.”

  “You asked me back to the lodge for a cup of cocoa, and we talked the whole afternoon. After we married you said you knew I was the one for you that day. Do you remember how we felt then? How we felt every time we were together?”

  “That’s gone now.”

  “You can’t expect those heady, romantic feelings to last. They go away, but they’re replaced by a more mature love.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. The next sentence needed to be tempered with love. “Whatever you’re feeling with … her … it’ll go away in time. And then what’ll you do? Leave her too?”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t what I expected today.”

  She knew what he meant. He’d expected accusations and demands, had probably come expecting to be on the defensive. “Would you consider moving back home?”

  Skepticism filled his face.

  She appealed to the tightwad in him. “What sense does it make to pay for a hotel when you have a home?”

  “This is about more than money.”

  “I know. But the boys don’t understand. I don’t know what to tell them.” She pressed closer. “They deserve a father, Keith. We can work on whatever’s broken. We can make our relationship better. I can still make you happy.”

  He stared out the window. Was he seeing the newly mowed grass, the annuals she’d planted last week? Was he seeing the swing on the porch where they’d spent many hours talking and laughing? Was he seeing the sidewalk where he’d taught Alex to ride without training wheels?

  If she could just get him to move back home. She couldn’t win him back if he wasn’t here. If he saw how hard she was trying, if she made him happy again, maybe he’d forget this other woman. He would need to stop seeing her. They would surely need counseling. But all that would come later, after he agreed to come back. One step at a time.

  “If I agree to come back, that’s no guarantee. You need to understand that.”

  It was less than she’d hoped for. “I understand.”

  His eyes found the boys’ portrait hanging on the wall. She forced herself to wait patiently, while her heart poised as if on the edge of a cliff.

  Finally, his head nodded slightly. “All right.”

  Joy bubbled within her, but she suppressed the giddiness. She didn’t want to scare him away. “I’m glad. The boys will be ecstatic.”

  He stood. “I’ll go get my things packed up, check out.”

  “All right.”

  “When’s Hanna bringing them back?”

  She looked at her watch. Had it really only been twenty minutes since they’d left? “About an hour and a half.”

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  The hotel was only a few miles away. It shouldn’t take that long. Was he going to see her? Going to tell her he was moving back home? She bit the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood.

  He slipped out the door, and she shut it behind him. She closed her eyes as she leaned back against the door and allowed the relief she felt to wash over her. Thank You, God. Thank You. They had a long way to go, but it was a start.

  She went to the kitchen and took the sirloin strips from the freezer. She would make dinner while she waited for Hanna. She’d bought all the ingredients for beef stroganoff for just this occasion. It was Keith’s favorite.

  While she defrosted the meat, she thought about the boys. They would be so glad to have their father home. They’d asked about him every day. Even Taylor, who hadn’t combined two words yet, had given his daddy’s name an inflection that left no doubt he was inquiring about his father’s whereabouts.

  Whatever she did, she could not blow this opportunity. Keith would be home, and she must not make him angry—make him regret his decision to come back. It would be hard when her heart longed to rage at him for what he’d done. When her mind wanted answers to the dozens of questions that swam through her head all day.

  But that was goal number two: counseling. If he would agree to counseling, she could get her answers in the safe presence of an adviser, who could keep the conversations from getting wildly out of control. If only he would agree.

  She knew Pastor Richards counseled married couples, but she didn’t think Keith would want to go to him. She opened the junk drawer and pulled out the phone book. In the yellow pages, she found “Marriage Counselors.” How did one go about choosing the person who would help them put their marriage back together? She didn’t know anyone who’d gone to counseling to ask for a reference. Maybe she could ask Pastor Richards. But what if Keith didn’t want anyone to know what was going on? If Pastor knew, Keith would never go back to church.

  By the time the stroganoff was bubbling in the skillet, the doorbell rang. She let Hanna and the boys in, and Alex began rambling about doing the monkey bars while Taylor pranced in place saying, “Daddy? Daddy?”

  “Daddy will be home in a few minutes.”

  She met Hanna’s gaze and smiled. “Alex, take Taylor and wash your hands. It’s almost dinnertime.”

  They disappeared around the corner.

  “He’s coming back to stay?”

  “Yes. I’m so relieved.”

  “Of course, you are.” She drew Natalie into an embrace. “Oh, I’m so glad.”

  “He made sure I understood it’s no guarantee. This is far from over. I still don’t know who it is or if he’s willing to give her up.”

  They parted, and she asked Hanna to follow her into the kitchen so she could continue making dinner. “We have a long way to go. I’m so angry, Hanna. Angry at him. Angry at her. Sometimes the rage fills me, and I have horrible thoughts. Thoughts I never dreamed I was capable of.”

  Hanna stirred the noodles. “I’m sure that’s normal.”

  “And other times I’m terrified. Of losing him, of being a single parent … I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.”

  “We’ll just pray it doesn’t happen. He’s willing to come back home; that says something.”

  Nat heard the boys playing in the water in the bathroom, but decided to let it go.

  “I think we should get some counseling.”

  Hanna nodded. “That
’s a good idea.”

  “Do you know anyone who’s had counseling? I want a Christian counselor, someone who won’t suggest a divorce when things get heavy. And preferably a man. I think Keith would respond better to a man.”

  “I don’t know of anyone who’s had … just a minute. I think Micah mentioned his foster father is a marriage counselor. And I know he’s a Christian.”

  “Micah—your climbing guide?”

  “Yeah, I think I told you about him.” Hanna sniffed and rubbed her nose, a sure sign of discomfort.

  “What’s this? Is there something going on between you and Micah?” She smiled as Hanna’s face flushed.

  “There is something going on.”

  “It’s more like nothing is going on.”

  “Despite your wishes? What about—do you feel like you’re ready?”

  Hanna nodded. “He’s not, though.”

  “If he has any sense, he’ll snatch you up while he can.”

  “Anyway, I know he said his foster father is a counselor.”

  Natalie smirked. “Nice change of subject.”

  “Thanks,” Hanna said, without pause. “I’ll ask Micah about it and get his name and number, all right?”

  Nat hugged her sister. “Thanks, Hanna.”

  “I wish I could do more, make this whole mess go away.”

  “Me too.” She checked the microwave clock. “I don’t mean to rush you, but he’s going to be home any minute, and I think he’s afraid to face you.”

  Hanna crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “He should be.”

  “You’re sounding more like an older sister than a younger one.” Natalie smiled.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m angry with him myself.”

  “Thanks for sticking up for me.” They embraced again, then Natalie let her out the door. “Pray for us.”

  “You know I will.”

  Natalie watched her go, then went to the bathroom where the boys had undoubtedly created a pond in the basin of the pedestal sink.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Why don’t you go out there and join them?” Gram asked.

  Hanna shrugged and stepped away from the office window where she’d been watching Micah and Devon playing volleyball with several families.

  “All right, now, what’s the matter? I can see there’s something going on between you and Micah. Did you two have a spat?”

  “No, Gram, nothing like that.” She sat in her desk chair, and Gram sat across from her. Hanna sighed deeply. What would Gram say if she knew how Hanna had been feeling, how she was convinced God had a plan for her and Micah? How she’d boldly confronted him about it? Then she remembered something Gram had once told her and gathered the courage to be honest.

  “I guess if anyone would understand, it would be you. You’ve said you knew Grandpop was the one for you when you met him, right?”

  Gram nodded, tender patience filling her eyes.

  “I’ve got that same feeling with Micah. It’s like God has put his name on my heart. I didn’t even want a relationship with a man; you know that. But I just have this feeling …”

  She waited for Gram to say something, but the older woman just tipped her lips in a smile and waited.

  “God may have let me know what He wants, but apparently He hasn’t clued Micah in.” She went on to explain how he’d rejected her four days ago. The sting of it was still fresh, and she felt as if her face were on fire as she talked. “He has no interest in me or a relationship.”

  “Either that, or he’s running from it. Sometimes what we want and what God wants are two different things. Maybe Micah’s just fighting it.”

  “I guess that’s possible.”

  “How do you feel about him?”

  Nothing like getting right to the point. “I enjoy his company. At least, I did before he clammed up. And I am attracted to him.”

  “What about—has he ever touched you?”

  “Yes.” A smile played at her lips. “Nothing serious, you know, but I wasn’t afraid, not even a little. In fact, he made me feel … safe.”

  “It sounds like you’ve made progress since your last relationship.”

  “Either that, or it’s just that Micah affects me differently.” She absently slid Grams ring along her necklace. “I don’t know what to do. If he’s fighting it, how can I get him to change his mind?”

  “Only God can change the heart, but you’re not exactly making His job easy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gram cocked her head. “Well, how’s he supposed to be tempted by you if you’re never together? Get out there, child, and show him what he’s missing!”

  Hanna chuckled. “Has anyone told you you’re an awesome grandma?”

  Gram took on a self-sacrificing look. “It has been a while …”

  She hugged her grandma, “You’re the best, Gram.”

  Hanna changed into her tennis shoes and walked around the lodge to the backyard. Gram was a good listener. When she’d been in high school, she used to tell Gram about all her secret crushes. Too bad Natalie can’t bring herself to tell Gram about their marriage problems. She could probably give good advice, what with her fifty-plus years of marriage experience.

  She heard the volleyball players cheering and laughing from the distance. It had been a long time since she’d played, and her footsteps quickened in anticipation. Don’t forget your main purpose for being out here. Maybe she could finagle her way onto Micah’s team. Proximity and all that.

  When she rounded the corner, an athletic-looking teen served the ball overhand straight into the net. His team ragged on him as they passed the ball to the other side, Micah’s team.

  “Hey, Hanna,” Devon shouted. “Come give us a hand! We’re dying over here.”

  “All right.” Shoot, wrong team. Oh, well, at least well be across from one another.

  Devon moved over and motioned for her to fill the gap on the back row. The game got under way again, and teams cheered their teammates, calling “set!” when they were in position to spike. Hanna hadn’t hit the ball yet, but she watched eagerly for her chance.

  Then a man on the other team hit the ball right to her. She clasped her hands together and got in position.

  Whomp! She was knocked sideways, and the ball connected with Devon’s hands instead of hers. She stumbled, barely keeping her footing.

  The ball stayed in play. She shot Devon an annoyed look that went unnoticed.

  By the time she’d made it to the front row, her team was ahead fourteen to eight, and she still hadn’t hit the ball. Not that it hadn’t come to her. Ball hog, she thought, as Devon once again claimed a ball that had her name on it. The teen who’d mis-served was up again.

  “Hey, man, get it over!” Devon called.

  “Game point!” someone called.

  His serve cleared the net, and the ball was volleyed back and forth. Micah was directly across from her, and Hanna hoped she wouldn’t have to block a shot from him. Not much chance of that with Devon around.

  Hanna’s team’s front row sent the ball to Micah right over the net, a perfect set for a spike. Devon was still in the back corner where he’d dived for the last ball. Hanna clasped her hands to dig the spike. But Micah simply tapped the ball to her, and she set the middle-aged man beside her. She looked at Micah. He could’ve spiked that.

  But she knew why he hadn’t. He wouldn’t take the chance of nailing a woman in the face. The thought pleased and annoyed her at the same time. She could handle herself; she didn’t need to be mollycoddled.

  The ball was still in action, and it was heading toward the kid beside Micah. “Get it, Josh!” Micah called. Micah was close enough to snag it himself, but he let the boy try. The ball ricocheted off the boy’s hands and flew out of bounds.

  “We won!” Devon said. “That’s three for us.”

  The players talked for a few minutes, then began wandering off in different directions.

  “Hey, Hanna.” Devon appeared bes
ide her. “How ’bout taking a boat out on the lake?”

  “Oh, sorry. I have some work to do.” She escaped to her office before he tried to cajole her into going. She did have work to do, and she wanted to check how booked the lodge was for July.

  Later, Hanna stopped tapping on the keyboard and stared at the screen. Those cancellations hadn’t stopped, and they were in trouble. They would be able to make June’s payment, maybe even July’s. But August was half-empty, and there was no way they could make the mortgage like that. She didn’t even want to think about the early fall.

  She saw Micah pass the office, carrying his empty cake plate to the kitchen. Earlier Gram had offered him a slice of her carrot cake, and he knew a good deal when he saw one.

  When he passed by again, Hanna listened until she heard the rustle of newspaper in the great room. It was something he did almost every evening after dinner. She debated whether she should join him. He was just as indifferent toward her as ever, maybe even more so after she’d made a fool of herself. What am I supposed to do now, God? If I go in there, I’ll probably just scare him away.

  So what? She’d already been humiliated once, what did she have to lose? She picked up her coffee mug and left her office just as Gram entered the great room with a plate of carrot cake.

  “Here, Micah,” Gram said. “How about a slice of my famous carrot cake?”

  He opened his mouth, then shut it again before smiling kindly. “Sure, Mrs. Landin, that sounds great.” He took the plate.

  Gram patted Hanna’s shoulder as she passed. “None for you, child, not with your allergies.”

  It was true; she was allergic to nuts, but that was the last thing on her mind. Hanna rested her elbows on the counter and watched Micah. He set down the paper and started eating in what could only be described as a reluctant manner.

  Suddenly he looked up, as if becoming aware of her presence. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She was vaguely aware of the smile curling her lips, and she knew the warmth she felt for Micah must be spilling from her gaze.

  He set the fork on the plate. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  His brows knotted together in the center of his forehead. “Like I’m a hot fudge sundae, and you’ve been dieting all week.”