A Mother for Cindy

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A Mother for Cindy Page 16

by Margaret Daley


  “No.”

  “She wants to get to know a girl on the third floor in your building, invite her over to play. She wants you to read bedtime stories to her like you are now. She wants to go to her mother’s grave site and put flowers on it. You haven’t taken her and she doesn’t understand why.”

  With each sentence Nick winced until pain crumbled his defenses and shone through. “Because I can’t bring myself to go to Brenda’s grave. She nearly killed me and sometimes I think it was intentional. I think she was willing to die as long as she could take me with her.”

  Jesse sucked in a breath and held it until her lungs burned. She didn’t know what to say to that assertion. She blinked, trying to assimilate what he had told her about his deceased wife. “I thought it was an accident.”

  “That’s what the police report says, but you didn’t see her face right before we went off the road and toward the tree. It was full of hatred, all directed at me.” He shuddered, hugging his arms to his chest as if to ward off a chill even though the temperature was over ninety degrees.

  “I’m sorry.” She wanted to go to him but something in his stance forbade it.

  “Do you know what my first coherent thought was when I woke up in the hospital?”

  She shook her head, her heart bleeding for him.

  “I was glad she was dead,” he said, his voice weak, his breath ragged, his expression full of self-hatred. “I wished for someone to be dead. How can your God forgive that?”

  “He can be your God, too. You can start by asking Him for forgiveness and then forgiving yourself.”

  “I didn’t think I could hate someone so much, but Brenda made my life at home unbearable to the point I never wanted to be there. So I did what I had been doing for years. I worked fourteen-, fifteen-hour days. I missed the first six years of Cindy’s life. I’m just beginning to really know my daughter.”

  She couldn’t stay away from him another second. Jesse took him into her embrace and held him tight against her. She felt him shudder again and again as though he were reliving the wreck and his feelings all over. “Turn to the Lord. If you truly want forgiveness, He will. But you should also forgive Brenda. Until you do, you won’t be totally free of the past. It will always be there to drag you down.”

  When Nick backed away, he scanned the area, his composure falling into place as though he hadn’t opened up to her and let her glimpse the pain he felt. “I’ve had enough of communing with nature. Let’s go find the children.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard to find Gramps’s old truck in town,” she said, picking up on his need to lighten the mood. “I have a couple of ideas where they might be.”

  “Not the jewelry store?”

  “I doubt it. If they went, Gramps wouldn’t stay long. He’d pick the first ring he saw that he could afford. Gramps and shopping do not go together.”

  Nick helped Jesse put the food into the basket, then he folded the blanket and they headed for his SUV. The drive into town was done in silence. Jesse watched out the side window. The lake and woods disappeared as Nick turned onto the road that led to the downtown area of Sweetwater. She said nothing further about the torment eating at Nick, but it was there between them, making the quiet tension-packed.

  On Main Street Jesse straightened and pointed toward Gramps’s old red pickup. “Just as I suspected. They’re at Harry’s, probably having lunch.”

  “If I know Cindy, she’s having more than lunch. She has developed a fondness for Harry’s vanilla milkshakes.” Nick parked two doors down from the front of the café. “I’m glad it’s past lunchtime or we’d never have gotten a parking spot so close.”

  Coming around the front of his car, Jesse shaded her eyes and studied Nick for a moment. “You’re getting to know Sweetwater quite well. Be careful or someone might mistake you for a native.”

  “Never. I have big city written all over me.”

  She gestured at him. “Take another look at yourself. Jean shorts, T-shirt and tennis shoes. You don’t appear very big city to me.”

  He frowned at her as he opened the door to Harry’s.

  Jesse spotted the children and Gramps at the back in a booth. The waitress was clearing off the table, leaving only the milkshakes that each one of them had ordered as a dessert.

  Cindy sucked on her straw so hard her cheeks went in. “Daddy,” she said when she saw him negotiating his way toward the booth. “You weren’t on your picnic very long.”

  “We were dying to see what ring you all picked out.” Nick slid in next to Cindy and Nate.

  Jesse took the seat across from Nick next to Gramps. “Yeah, where is it?”

  Her grandfather stirred his chocolate milkshake with his straw, seemingly fascinated by the swirling motion he had created.

  “Gramps, the ring.”

  He looked up. “We haven’t gone yet. We all decided we needed nourishment before making the big decision so we stopped in here first.”

  Jesse propped her folded arms on the table. “That’s great! Then Nick and I can give our two cents’ worth.”

  Gramps scowled. “Don’t need a whole army going into the small jewelry store. You two go find something else to do.”

  She leaned toward his ear and whispered, “You’re not being very subtle.”

  “I’m never subtle. You’re a young, attractive woman who should be dating instead of trying to fix every Tom, Dick and Harry up with a date.”

  “Who’s Tom?” Cindy asked.

  “And Dick?” Nate asked, then turned to Cindy and added, “Harry must be the owner of the café. But I thought he was married to Rose.”

  “Figure of speech, kids.” Gramps waved his hand over the table. “Your mother is concerned about everybody else’s love life but her own.”

  Red-hot flames had to be licking at her face because Jesse felt on fire. “Gramps!”

  “Well, it’s the truth, young lady. You have so much to offer a man. You know how to cook and keep a house. You’re a terrific mother and you were a great wife to Mark.”

  Jesse rose on shaky legs, gripping the edge of the table to keep herself upright. She wanted to throttle her grandfather. She’d never been so embarrassed in her whole life. “I need some fresh air.” She spun on her heel and fled the café, aware of the stares from the other patrons.

  She heard Nick say something to the group then him following her. Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough—away from her family, away from Nick. All she wanted to do was hide. Nick clasped her shoulder halfway down Main Street and halted her progress toward the park.

  “Hold up. My mending leg can’t keep up with you. I’m not up to jogging yet.”

  He could have said a lot of things that wouldn’t have stopped her, but that did. She glanced back at him, seeing the grimace around his mouth that indicated he had overused his leg. “Sorry about that.”

  “You know, your grandfather has a point. One of the things I like about you is your caring and concern for others.”

  His words cooled the heat of embarrassment blanketing her face. She turned completely around. “Are you still angry with me for trying to fix you up without your knowledge?”

  “I have discovered fixing people up is part of who you are. I do recommend in the future making sure all parties are aware of what you’re doing.” Linking his hand with hers, he started walking toward the park. “I am curious why you haven’t tried your skills on yourself.”

  “I’ve been married. As I’ve told you before, I’m not interested in getting married again. It’s someone else’s turn at happiness.” Even to Jesse’s own ears her words lacked her usual conviction.

  “I’ve been married, too. That didn’t stop you from trying with me.”

  “But you weren’t happy, and besides, Cindy wants a mother.”

  “And Nate doesn’t want a father?”

  His question brought a halt to her step. She’d known Nate needed a man’s influence and had hoped that Gramps would be it. She loved her grandfat
her, but Nate needed more than Gramps could give him. “I’ve never asked him.”

  “You have a wonderful child who would make any man proud to call son.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I’m the problem, she thought. How can I risk that kind of hurt again? How do I deserve happiness when— She shrugged as though she didn’t have an answer.

  “You’ve never been tempted with all those men you’ve fixed up?”

  “Never once.” Until you, she added silently.

  “That’s hard for me to believe with all your warmth and kindness.”

  “Well, it’s true. It’s easier not to get involved.”

  He moved in front of her and blocked her path. “Why? I know why I say that. But your marriage was a good one. Why wouldn’t you want to experience that again?”

  “I’ve had my chance.”

  “Where’s it written down that everyone only gets one chance at a happy marriage?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’ve implied it. Didn’t you tell me Darcy had a good marriage the first time around and now the second time, too?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out how to stop the direction the conversation was going. “We need to discuss Cindy’s party. What can I do to help?”

  “You aren’t going to get out of discussing this by asking a question. I may not be as good a listener as you are, but something isn’t right here. You’re avoiding my questions, giving partial answers, not the complete truth. Why?”

  She moved around him and headed for a wooden bench by the fountain in the center of the park. Again she heard him right behind her, not allowing her to get away. When she sat, he eased down next to her, his thigh touching hers, his presence trapping her.

  “I’m not going anywhere. What’s troubling you?”

  “Is this how you made your millions? Dog someone until they do what you want?”

  “Yep. That particular skill has come in handy on a number of occasions and you aren’t going to change the subject.”

  She stared at the cars that passed the park on Main Street. She would never forget the evening her husband had died. The memory trembled through her with such a force she shook. Folding her arms to her, she said, “You might not think so highly of me if you knew the truth.”

  “What truth?” he asked in such a low voice that it barely sounded.

  “I’m the reason my husband is dead. Not quite the paragon of virtue, am I?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  Again that quiet voice that forced her to listen carefully to him. Her teeth dug into her lip, the words stuck in her throat. She hadn’t shared her private, innermost thoughts on her husband’s death with anyone.

  He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

  She peered at their hands linked together and said, “I had taken his hammer outside to fix some outdoor furniture we had in the yard. It started to rain and he didn’t want it left out there. He was very particular about his tools. When he ran out to get the hammer, lightning struck him.”

  “So you blame yourself for his death because you left the hammer outside in the rain? Do I have it right?”

  She nodded, her throat clogged with emotions long buried.

  “It was a freak accident. He didn’t have to go get it. He chose to. Remember, free will.”

  “But I knew how he was about his tools. He was especially particular about that hammer because it had been his dad’s. I shouldn’t have used it. Or at the very least, I should have put it back when I was through.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Nate fell and hurt his knee. I took him inside to clean him up and then forgot about the hammer until it started to rain.”

  “Why did your husband go out and not you?” He shifted on the bench so he could face her.

  “Because I have always been afraid of thunderstorms and he knew that. He went because he knew how upset I was getting. The weather was starting to get bad.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. None of it. You can’t keep beating yourself up over an accident, an act of nature.”

  “One minute Mark was here, the next he was gone. I can’t go through that again. It hurt too much.”

  Nick slipped his arm about her shoulder and pulled her against him. “I’m finding out the hard way we can’t control our lives like we wish we could.”

  “But if I had just—”

  He laid his finger over her mouth to still her words. “Weren’t you the one who told me I had to forgive myself if I wanted to move on with my life? You need to practice what you preach.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Do you think God blames you for Mark’s death? Or does anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Then you need to quit blaming yourself. We can’t completely control life. I am slowly discovering that truth. I’ve tried for years and haven’t really succeeded. We are quite a pair. Full of guilt,” he said with a laugh that held no humor.

  “So what are we going to do about it?”

  “Half the battle is knowing what the problem is.” He rose and extended his hand. “Let’s go back and get a milkshake. I happen to share a fondness for one, like my daughter has.”

  Jesse placed her hand in his. Was she using her guilt over Mark’s death to keep her rooted in the past? The past was a known entity—the future wasn’t.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nate pushed Cindy higher in the swing on the church playground. “Let me know if you want me to stop.”

  She giggled, the wind blowing her long hair behind her and cooling her face. “I love to swing and try to see over the trees.”

  “Me, too.”

  When Cindy finally came to a stop and got off to let Nate use the swing, she said, “We’re leaving the day after my birthday party.”

  “That’s in three days.” Nate plopped down on the wooden seat and gripped the ropes.

  Cindy positioned herself behind him and gave him a push. “Do you have any more ideas? I don’t want to leave.” She belonged in Sweetwater. Why couldn’t her daddy see that? She had friends and her daddy laughed now. He never had before.

  “I don’t know what else to do. We’ve tried to leave our parents alone, but it hasn’t done anything. Why don’t you tell your father you want to stay? He might decide to. He came to church today when you asked him to.”

  “Maybe…if I tell him how bad I want it.” She pushed Nate again. “Then if we stay, he can marry your mom.” That’s a perfect plan, Cindy thought and smiled.

  * * *

  Nick wandered along the path in the garden beside the church, drawn to the pond with goldfish and a small waterfall, its sound soothing to the soul. Was he using his anger like a shield to keep himself isolated from people? He couldn’t deny that for a good part of his life, his anger toward the Lord had consumed him. And look where it had led him—alone, struggling to get to know his daughter.

  He sat on the large rock beside the pond and stared at the clear water with orange goldfish swimming about the green plants. But where did he go now? He needed to get back to something familiar. He felt so lost. Too many things had changed in his life lately.

  Lord, show me the way. What should I do?

  The plea came from his heart, battered and bruised. The minute evolved into ten and still nothing stood out as a clear path for him to follow. He rose, berating himself for thinking an answer would come just because he’d finally asked. He shook his head, turning from the pond. He wasn’t good at asking for help. He started back toward the church parking lot to find Cindy and leave.

  His daughter stood next to Jesse and Nate. When she saw him, she ran toward him, a huge grin on her face. She skidded to a stop and began to pull him toward Jesse.

  “We’re invited to another fish fry tonight. Gramps caught a whole bunch yesterday.”

  Gramps? When had his daughter begun calling Gerard Daniels Gramps? Ala
rm bells rang in his mind. The feeling of being trapped closed in on him.

  “Honey, we have a lot to do in the next few days before we leave. Don’t you—”

  Cindy stopped, a pout replacing her grin. “I want to live in Sweetwater, Daddy, all the time. I don’t want to leave in a few days. I hate Chicago.”

  He stooped in front of her and clasped her arms. His leg ached from pushing himself too much that morning when he’d exercised, but he needed to make it clear to Cindy their home was in Chicago. “Hon, we have to leave. My work is there. Maybe we’ll come back for a holiday next summer.”

  “You run the company. Why can’t you run it here? You have been.”

  He hadn’t allowed himself to think of that possibility because it opened up too many unknowns. He already had little control over his life. How could he give up all of it? Sweetwater was a nice place to visit. But to live here? He slowly rose, the pain in his leg sharpening. He focused on it, pulling his thoughts away from the prospects of settling down in a small town.

  Jesse waved him to her. “Did Cindy ask you about the fish fry? Gramps got some tasty catfish. You know, that secret batter I use for chicken I also use for catfish.”

  The urge to say no was strong, but one look at Cindy’s eager expression and he found himself saying, “Sure. Can I bring anything?”

  “Nope. I’ve got things covered. Boswell’s welcome to come, too.”

  “Are Gramps and Susan going to be there?”

  “Yes. Gramps is giving her a ring this afternoon when he picks her up so she’ll be showing it off.”

  “Do you think it’s wise then to have Boswell there?”

  “We can’t leave him out of our family plans.” The second Jesse said our family her eyes widened and her mouth snapped close. She swallowed hard. “I mean, Gramps will be fine. He and Susan are engaged.”

  Nick took Cindy’s hand, needing some space. Suddenly his chest felt tight, and it was difficult to draw in a good decent breath. “I’ll ask Boswell. What time?” He stepped back.

  “Six. Nate wants to play croquet after dinner. Up for a game?”

 

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