Irvel. The sweet Alzheimer’s patient who had made such an impact on Ashley during the days when she worked at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home.
Landon looked out at the moonlit landscape and then at Ashley again. “Sing it with me?”
Ashley’s smile turned shy, but as he began to sing, she joined in. The song started slow, hesitant, and somewhat awkward. But after a few words, their voices found the right rhythm, and the song surrounded them with hope and truth and a commitment to stand in the face of whatever was coming—trial or triumph.
“‘Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way! Thou art the potter; I am the clay. Mold me and make me after Thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still.’”
As the song ended, Landon felt something change in Ashley’s attitude, a change from deep inside. Because this was life, really. Clinging to each other, eyes set on Jesus, certain of the eventual outcome even if that was the only certainty at all. In this next stretch of their journey, he and Ashley would do better to let go of their own desires and fears and simply trust God. He really was the potter. His way—whatever it was—would be best.
They hugged again for a long time, then linked hands and walked inside. Landon considered Grandpa Westra. If he didn’t survive the heart attack, Landon would feel the loss greatly. But the things his grandpa had taught him would never die, because they would live on in Landon and later in Cole and Devin and whatever other children the Lord might bless them with. In that way Andrew Westra would remain a part of them always whenever they needed to remember what was important.
The way they had needed to remember it tonight.
Luke parked his car adjacent to the city park and looked over his shoulder at his children, Tommy and Malin, buckled into their car seats. Two-year-old Malin was asleep, sucking on her pacifier, and Tommy, at four, was straining at his belt.
“Look, Daddy.” He pointed to the swings. “Even a Tyrannosaurus rex could hide in that park. It has a million trees!” He held his hands up in a clawing position and let out a roar. “Today I’m the T. rex.”
The sound made Malin jump, and as she did, the pacifier fell from her mouth and bounced onto the floor mat. Her face slowly morphed into a twist of angry frustration—the way it often did before a breakdown—and she began to cry in protest.
“Here we go,” Luke muttered. He killed the engine and noticed a long peanut butter smear from his elbow halfway to his wrist, proof that he’d forgotten to wash Malin’s hands before setting her in the car. He sighed. Until the trouble with Reagan, he’d never spent significant time alone with the kids, never really understood what Reagan was up against taking care of them every day and often without his help.
This weekend Reagan was in New York visiting her mother, trying to decide the next step in their marriage. At the rate it was deteriorating, he could only imagine what might come next. When he and Reagan talked, the conversation was brief and terse, functional dialogue about the kids or the day’s schedule. Luke wasn’t sure what Reagan was trying to figure out by spending a weekend away. Anyone could see where they were headed because only one solution loomed on the horizon. A painful, devastating divorce.
Luke climbed out of the car, hurried around to the other side, and opened the back passenger door. He found Malin’s pacifier on the floor and dusted it off. After unbuckling his daughter, he clipped her pacifier to the corner of her jacket and lifted her into his arms. Next he clicked Tommy’s seat belt, and the boy scrambled down onto the sidewalk. The stroller was in the back of the car, and with one hand Luke pulled it out and snapped it open. He situated Malin and set her pacifier back in her mouth. They could break her of the habit later when their family wasn’t falling apart.
Tommy watched as Luke locked the car. “Why isn’t Mommy here?” He’d asked three times since breakfast. Never mind that the child wasn’t in kindergarten yet; he understood what was happening around him. The tension at home had been unbearable.
“Well, kiddo—” a heaviness gripped Luke’s heart—“she’s visiting Grandma in New York. Remember?”
“By herself?” Tommy slipped his hand in Luke’s as they walked between the trees toward the playground. “How come by herself?”
Luke stopped to zip Malin’s coat. It was the second Saturday in March, and a week of warmer temperatures had melted most of the snow. But even with the puffy clouds and sunny sky, it was still cold enough that they wore their winter coats.
Tommy cocked his head. “Daddy, I said how come by herself?”
They started walking again. “’Cause Mommy needed time alone to talk to Grandma.” Luke’s tone was patient. The nightmare between him and Reagan wasn’t the kids’ fault.
“Alone isn’t as fun as together.” Tommy kept close to Luke’s side. The confident T. rex he’d been in the car was more of a timid brontosaurus now that the conversation had turned to his parents. “Right?”
“Not always.” Luke chose his words carefully. No matter what their feelings for each other were, neither of them wanted to force the kids to choose sides. “Sometimes people need to be alone so they can talk to God and think things through.”
Tommy set his jaw. “I don’t like alone.”
They reached the playground, and once more Luke could see a change in Tommy. Before the troubles at home, Tommy would’ve run off with barely a good-bye, in a hurry to join the two other kids already racing up and down the slide. But today he circled his arm around Luke’s leg and leaned in closer. “I think I’ll wait.”
“For what?” Luke pulled out the top of Malin’s stroller so the sun wouldn’t be directly on her face.
“Aunt Ashley.” Tommy walked over and plucked Malin’s pacifier from her mouth. “No more poppy, Mali.” He wagged his finger at her. “You’re a big girl now.”
“Mine!” Malin snatched at the pacifier, but Tommy held it just out of reach.
“That’s not nice.” Luke jerked the pacifier from Tommy’s hand. He passed it off to Malin and scowled at his son. “You need to be nice to your sister. What would Jesus think about that?”
For a moment, Tommy stared at the ground. He used the toe of his red and white tennis shoes to draw circles in the damp earth. “Just tryin’ to help.” He looked up and shaded his eyes. “I’m gonna go slide.”
“Okay.” Relief hit Luke as his son ran off. He pushed the stroller to the nearest park bench and flopped down. Ashley and her boys were meeting them, and Luke was glad the park wasn’t crowded. He didn’t want to work hard to keep an eye on Tommy. Today he needed to talk to a friend without distractions, and Ashley was still one of his closest. She would sort through the broken pieces of his life and help him make sense of them.
He was about to check behind him for his sister’s van when he saw Tommy pick up a handful of sand and throw it at the slide. Then as the boy at the top of the slide came down, Tommy picked up another handful and threw it at the child.
Luke stood and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey!”
Tommy turned toward him, eyes wide. He opened his hands, and two more handfuls sifted to the ground. “What?”
“Come here.” Luke felt worn-out. Being a lawyer was nothing to raising kids.
His son produced a full-faced pout and marched back. “Slides are better with sand!”
Luke willed himself to keep from yelling. “What about friends?” He put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. “Are they better with sand too?”
“It was a big storm.” Tommy’s tone was whiny, something else that had been worse since the troubles between Luke and Reagan.
Luke gritted his teeth. “Did the other boy know that?”
“Um . . .” Guilt shadowed his eyes. “Maybe no.”
“That’s what I thought.” Luke pointed at the other child. “You’re going to go back and tell that boy you’re sorry. Then if I see you throw another handful of sand, you’ll be sitting beside me the rest of the afternoon.”
Tommy blinked a fe
w times, the way he did when he wanted to garner sympathy. “Yes, Daddy.”
Luke watched him return slowly to the playground and approach the other child. At the same time he heard Ashley’s voice behind him.
“Go ahead, boys. I’ll be here with Uncle Luke.” She walked up and hugged him. “How are you?”
“Frazzled.” Luke led her back to the bench.
Ashley peeked in the stroller at Malin. “She’s sleeping.”
“Which is amazing in light of Tommy’s constant efforts to keep her awake.” Luke settled back onto the bench beside his sister. “We’ve been here ten minutes, and I’m already exhausted.”
“It’s not easy, raising kids.”
“I never realized how much Reagan did all day.” He crossed his arms and watched Tommy as he ran to greet his cousins. He smiled at Ashley. “Hey, congratulations on the baby.”
“Thanks.” She sat sideways, one knee pulled up onto the bench. Her pregnancy was showing a little, and she looked healthier than she had since losing Sarah. “We figured we’d call people rather than do the big announcement this time. Especially because Landon made a quick trip to see his grandpa in Wisconsin.”
“Makes sense.” Luke glanced at his sister. “Is it hard? I mean, are you ever afraid?”
Ashley smiled, but the worry showed in her face. “Very. It’s a daily struggle. At least until our ultrasound next month.”
They were quiet for a few seconds. Cole and Tommy walked Devin to the swings, and Cole helped him into the seat of one of the smaller ones.
Luke slid to the edge of the bench, ready to run to the boys if they needed help. “Is Devin okay on the swings?”
“Definitely. Cole knows how high he can go. He’s a really good big brother.”
“Hmm.” Luke eased back once more. “Wish I could say that about Tommy. He and Malin are constantly at it. Makes me wonder how Mom and Dad raised us to be so close.”
“Remember what they always said.” Her voice softened. “‘The people sitting around you at the dinner table are the best friends you’ll ever have.’ I find myself telling Cole and Devin that all the time.”
“They believe you?” Luke was baffled. Could it really be that easy?
Ashley laughed. “It takes constant reminding, but yeah, they believe us. Or maybe it’s because Cole was older when Devin came along. By then he’d wanted a brother for so long he could hardly stand it.”
The kids stayed near the swings for a few more minutes and then moved to a section of sand. With the happy sounds of their boys drifting across the playground and Tommy seeming under control, Luke took a long breath. “It doesn’t look good for Reagan and me.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Ashley reached out and squeezed his hand. “You can’t give up; you know that.” She released his hand. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Luke stretched his legs. The pain grabbed his heart and held on. “I’m not sure how it all started, but it got worse last month.” He paused. “We were honest with each other.”
“You told her about Randi.”
“All the details.” He laced his fingers behind his head. “Then she told me hers.”
“Hi, Mom!” Cole shouted from his place on the sand. “Look at our mountain!”
“Wow!” Ashley stood and grinned at him. “It’s huge!”
“As huge as a dinosaur!” Tommy jumped in place a few times. “We’re gonna make it bigger!”
The boys went back to work, and Ashley sat down. Her expression went blank. “Her details?”
Luke pictured his front porch steps and Reagan and the firefighter bidding each other good-bye, laughing and sharing a hug. Luke wanted to respect Reagan’s privacy, but she had given him permission to talk about the situation with Ashley. Luke bit the corner of his lip and tried to pick a starting point. “She became friends with a local fireman.”
Something flickered in Ashley’s eyes. “Did she . . . have an affair?”
Across the way, Luke glanced at the boys building their mountain of sand taller still. Then he let the story come, how Reagan had met the guy when Tommy got his head stuck between the railings of the banister and how eventually that led to a friendship, then to something much more.
“When she told me the truth, I said some things I shouldn’t have. How she should’ve learned her lesson with me.” He shrugged, out of answers. “Nothing’s been the same since.”
Ashley sighed. “What’d she say before she left?”
“That maybe we should make a plan when she got back. She didn’t mention a divorce attorney, but that’s what she meant.” Even saying the words doubled the hurt in his heart. “Mom would be so disappointed.” Defeat rang in his voice. “Lately I’ve been thinking . . .”
Laughter from the boys carried to where they were sitting. Ashley and Luke looked their direction and saw Cole, Tommy, and Devin kicking apart the hill of sand and flopping into it as if it were a pile of snow.
Ashley smiled, but as her eyes reconnected with Luke’s, her expression grew serious. “Thinking what?”
Luke took a breath and held it for a few beats. “That Reagan and I never should’ve gotten married. We made a mistake; we had a child. But that doesn’t make it right to compound the problem by rushing into marriage. Being around Reagan . . . I don’t know, it’s like I always feel guilty. Even before I started looking at other women.”
Ashley stared at him, her expression incredulous. “None of this is Reagan’s fault.” Frustration sounded in her voice, but she kept her tone even. “You loved her so much then. You talked about marrying her long before September 11.”
“That was the day, wasn’t it? The day everything changed.”
“Because of your choices.” She slid to the edge of the bench, more passionate than before. “That’s how it is, Luke. We make our decisions, and then we have to live with them. It was that way for me, and it’s that way for you. The key is always the same for any of us.” She brought her tone down some. “There will be consequences, but if we seek God, we’ll find redemption. That’s where our hope lies. You know that.”
Luke had figured his sister would set him straight, and in some ways that’s what he needed. But here and now her reply grated on him. “I’m forgiven; I get that. But what am I supposed to do with the guilt? I never feel good enough around Reagan, and now . . . now she doesn’t want things to work out anyway.”
“And you’re still not seeing a counselor?”
“She doesn’t want to.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure either of us does.”
“Luke . . .” Ashley sounded shocked at his admission. “Listen to yourself. Of course you need counseling. You can’t walk out on this marriage. . . . You can’t.”
Irritation built like so many small pebbles in his soul. “People do it all the time.” His answer surprised even him. How far had he come from the days when he was the perfect Baxter, the son any father would be proud of? He rested his forehead in his hand and tried to find a point of reference, some way back to the person he used to be.
There was none. The words that had spilled from his heart were exactly what he was feeling. People gave up on their marriages all the time. Why not him and Reagan? He waited for the verbal barrage from Ashley, the one he most certainly deserved. He lowered his hand and looked at her.
Ashley exhaled and straightened so she had a clear view of the kids. “Why did you ask me here?”
He stared at the sky, at the building clouds, and shook his head. “I can’t make sense of any of it. I thought maybe you could help.”
Ashley put her hand on his shoulder. “Then listen to me. When Reagan gets home, tell her you’re not ready to give up. Tell her the two of you need counseling.” She gave him a hug. “Get on your knees and beg her if you have to, but don’t just say nothing. Silence is the fading heartbeat of relationships.”
“Daddy, come here! Quick!” Tommy hopped around at the base of the monkey bars. “Help me!”
At the same time, a cry came
from Malin’s stroller. “Mommy!” She always woke the same way, whiny and ready to fall apart if she wasn’t picked up immediately.
Luke stood and went to her. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s here.” As he unbelted her and lifted her into his arms, he couldn’t help but think that very soon this might be the norm. The children alone with him, Reagan back at her separate home waiting for her turn. The thought hurt his soul with a guilt that cut deep. He brushed his cheek against his daughter’s. “Let’s go find Tommy.”
“Tommy!” She held out her hand and gave Luke a crooked grin. Her expression changed, and she reached back toward her stroller. “Poppy.” She hesitated, and this time her grin was forced. “Peese!”
“Not this time.” He gave Ashley a look. “Poppies are for naps only, sweetheart.”
“You’re a good dad.” Ashley fell in beside him as they stepped down into the sand and walked to their boys. “Now you need to remember how to be a good husband.”
Luke stopped himself from saying that it wasn’t as easy as she made it sound. They reached the boys, and Luke transferred Malin to Ashley’s arms so he could lift Tommy to the first rung of the monkey bars. Devin was content to run alongside the boys as they swung from one end to the other for the next fifteen minutes. The temperature was dropping, the sun moving lower in the sky, and after a few turns on the slides, it was time to go.
Ashley didn’t bring up Reagan again, but as they reached their cars, she buckled her boys in their seats and then returned to Luke and hugged him. As she pulled back she kept her hands on his shoulders. “You’re a Baxter. You’ll do the right thing; I know you will.”
“I don’t feel like a Baxter.” He didn’t want to bring down the mood, but he had to be honest.
“Hey . . .” She hadn’t looked at him this seriously since the day she connected with him on the campus of Indiana University to tell him he was the father of Reagan’s baby. “Being a Baxter doesn’t mean you’re perfect.” She looked deep to the places the two of them had shared since they were very young. “We bend and sway; we go through trials and temptations and heartbreak. But Baxters don’t break, and we don’t walk away. We keep getting up and dusting ourselves off and turning to God. As many times as it takes.”
Sunset: 4 (Sunrise) Page 8
