On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20)

by Lisa Heaton

  Taking the basket from her, he waited while she slipped her dirty feet back into her flip flops. Walking back to the house together, he listened as she told his mother all the things she wanted to cook. His mother confessed that she cooked day in and day out, so a break would be welcomed. Her statement caused John concern. It was hard to conceive of his mother actually allowing a guest to cook, or to lift a finger in her house for that matter. The years were finally catching up to her and for the first time, he could see it slowing her down. He could tell her hip was really bothering her. Being so far away was becoming a greater issue, just as he knew it would as they got older.

  Back in the house, Chelsea washed the tomatoes and squash and basically took over the kitchen. Immediately, her thoughts returned to the conversation when she and John shucked corn at her place. For a sweet moment, she tried to imagine him as a little boy, standing on a stool, trying to get the silks off an ear of corn. Trying to picture Louise as a young mother was nearly as sweet. Without doing so intentionally, it crossed her mind how much she’d like to have a little boy of her own, one who would stand beside her in the kitchen someday. Her heart ached at such a thought, especially considering John’s recent reminder that he never intended to marry again. If she ever did have a son, John wouldn’t likely be the father. That thought momentarily robbed her of her joy.

  John was in and out, but for the most part he left the women to talk and get to know one another. It was good for his mom to have another woman in the house. For a while, he sat with his father and watched a game show. His dad had always been partial to them. He could guess nearly every price on one of the shows. More than once John had offered to get them tickets to the show if they would come to L.A. Only once had his parents traveled that far and that was for Tracy’s funeral. That week went by in such a blur; John could hardly recall any of it. Of course under the circumstances he couldn’t take his parents out to see much of the city. Just as they did at home, his mother cooked and his father watched TV, but that was the life they were comfortable with.

  Since his dad’s heart attack, he’d done little around the ranch. Most of his cattle were moved to John’s ranch, and that seemed to be fine with his dad, which was surprising for John considering how much ranching used to mean to him. He was different as an older man though. Things that used to drive him no longer seemed quite as important. As long as his dad was with his mom, that was all it took for him to be content.

  Louise sat at the table while Chelsea moved about. The girl talked non-stop, which she liked tremendously. Claude was never much of a talker, so it was nice to hear a voice other than her own. As she cooked, Chelsea told her more in that half hour than John told her on the phone in the past year. She learned that he went to church to watch Chelsea sing. If she stopped right there, that would’ve been enough. Louise knew John never went to church other than when he was home visiting them. Most often he made his visits during the week so he wouldn’t have to.

  “I think I’ll ask to sing more often. He may come for that.”

  “You’re right.” John had walked into the kitchen just in time to hear Chelsea’s comment. Indeed, she was right. He’d go every Sunday to hear her sing. What she didn’t know was that while they were away, he’d made arrangements for a piano to be delivered. Her living room was large enough to accommodate one. While she may have to rearrange a little, he was confident she’d think it worth the effort.

  Chelsea grinned at him. Turning her attention back to her squash, she began scooping them onto a platter lined with paper towels. “I’m manipulating for Jesus. I think He’s okay with that.”

  “Most likely.” Walking over to where she stood, he switched the stove off and took the platter. Everything else was on the table and while his mother went to get his dad, John took that opportunity alone to say, “I’ll go every Sunday whether you sing or not. If that’s what you want.” Leaning in, he brushed her cheek with his lips. “I’d do anything you asked of me. I think you know that.”

  Smiling up at him, she reached out and touched his cheek, dragging her fingertips along his jawline. She leaned in and rested her head on his chest, admitting, “I’d really like it if you did.” It was the most tender moment she could recall having with him. At his parents, away from L.A., she got a sense she was finally meeting the real John Keller, a man not quite so driven or hardened by the world. When he said that he’d do anything she asked of him, she wanted to believe that if she asked him, he’d stay with her once April came.

  His parents were coming into the room so they quickly stepped apart. John, laughing said, “You caught us, I guess.”

  Claude slapped John on the back, “Don’t mind us. I might just hug-up on your mama a little later.”

  “What’s wrong with right now?” Louise asked.

  John rolled his eyes and groaned as if the thought of his parents hugging sickened him.

  Her moment with John had her a bit shaken still, but easily enough, Chelsea joined in the laughter as Claude grabbed Louise in a bear hug right there in the kitchen.

  Trying his best to ignore them, John went over to the table, saying, “Take all the time you want, it’ll give me a head start on the food.” Winking at Chelsea, he wondered if she thought about their first “date” and the cheesecake.

  When the commotion died down, Claude sat at one end of the table, across from John. Louise sat across from her. As they all joined hands, Chelsea said, “This is just how my family does it.” Feeling a sense of belonging, her eyes began to sting as if she might cry. It felt right to be with them. It felt right being with John. How could something that felt so real have an expiration date?

  After the dinner dishes were done, they all sat and looked at old family photos, and just as John had warned her she might, his mother told story after story of what a spirited boy he was. It seemed “spirited” was a kind way of saying he was a hard one to raise.

  “Then at about ten, he began to change. I don’t know what caused it, but from there on out he was as easy a child to raise as I’ve ever seen.”

  As much as John assured his mother that Chelsea didn’t want to hear any more stories or see any more photos, Chelsea encouraged Louise, telling her she would look as long as she wanted. The evening was one of the best she had had since knowing John. She’d take a quiet night with his family over stuffy business engagements any day. With his parents, he was gentle and protective over them. The tender way in which he spoke to his mother caused Chelsea to love him even more. There was a saying, see how a man treats his mama, and you know how he’ll treat his wife. As soon as the saying traveled through her mind, Chelsea’s heart fell, heavy with sadness. That would never be her. It was so easy for the reminder of their end to ruin the beginning.

  John noticed how Chelsea sighed and for the briefest moment blinked, keeping her eyes closed tightly for a second or two. Immediately, a shift in her mood occurred. For a time, he felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She was clearly hurting. Hoping to divert her attention away from whatever caused it, he asked, “Would you like to sit out on the porch? I’m sure the old folks will be going to bed soon.”

  She stared at him blankly for just a second before his words actually sunk in. Smiling softly, glad for anything that would take her mind off the end, she said, “Sure.”

  Once his parents had gone to bed, John and Chelsea stepped out onto the porch. Holding her by the hand, he led her to the swing and they both sat. For a few minutes they swung in silence. At first he was tempted to ask her what had caused her to look so sad, but then it came to him. Caught up in the moment, she was suddenly struck with the un-reality of their relationship. There was no need to ask. The same thing happened to him just a moment before. Watching her with his parents, it was obvious they more than approved. His mother immediately loved Chelsea. How could she not? For a moment, watching them together, it was real for him too, but then the thought of the end crept in and stole his happiness. There’d be so many questions w
hen they were no longer together. It was then his mother’s warning not to hurt Chelsea echoed in his head. Considering that, maybe she would not be so surprised when they were over after all.

  Chelsea tried hard to push beyond the sadness of her earlier realization. Being there with John was what she wanted most; being in a real relationship with him was something she dared not hope for just a few weeks before. She was there and they were real. Grasping that place of happiness, refocusing her mind on the present and not the future, she glanced over at John.

  His silence was not all that surprising to her, and she didn’t have to wonder why. Something happened to them both while they were all laughing and talking. She wondered if what he felt was anything like she did, like a fraud. Knowing full well that she wasn’t his real girlfriend, someone he’d ever consider marrying, made her feel sorry for John’s mom. Several comments she made indicated she hoped they’d end up together, little things about Chelsea knowing who was who in the photos in case John didn’t. While it was premature on Louise’s part, it was more than obvious that was her line of thinking. Actually, it was quite sweet and endearing and terribly painful.

  First to break the long silence, she told him, “This has been the best night I’ve had in years.”

  “I’m glad you came with me. I usually come more often, but I’ve had a slight distraction in my life here lately.” He smiled rather weakly.

  The way he looked at her assured her he was just as conflicted by the night with his parents as she was. They had stopped swinging, and he leaned up and rested his elbows on his knees. Placing her hand on his back, she rubbed softly, asking, “Will you bring me again?”

  “Of course, as often as you’d like.” John leaned back and turned sideways in order to face her. “Are you okay?” Reaching out, he rubbed her silky hair between his fingers.

  His words were soft, full of emotion, his concern for her evident. “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed and added, “Are we okay?”

  His expression was one she could hardly read, one of worry mixed with tenderness. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you regret us getting closer like this? Is it a mistake?”

  Chelsea considered his question carefully. Of course it made her wonder if he regretted it. “It probably is, but I don’t regret it. Do you?”

  Leaning in closer, he slid his hand behind her neck and drew her nearer. “No, not for a moment. I want to hold on for as long as I can.” With that, he kissed her softly. Pulling back, he was tempted to admit how much he cared for her, how his feelings for her were totally unexpected and alarming, but instead, he moved back in and kissed her again.

  When John walked into the kitchen the following morning, he found Chelsea there making breakfast. “Where’s Mom?”

  She glanced back at him and smiled at the sleepy look in his eyes. He’d slept later than she’d ever seen before. Clearly at home, he was relaxed and at peace. “She’s in changing. We had coffee earlier, and I told her I’d get breakfast started, so she could take her time.”

  Looking at the stove, it felt like the old days when he and his dad were heading out to the fields. His mother had always prepared a feast like Chelsea was making. Bacon was sizzling on one burner; she was flipping French toast on a griddle, and he spied a pan of biscuits on the counter. She already had a bowl of eggs scrambled and waiting to be cooked.

  John moved in closer and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, by the way.” He slid his arms around her waist.

  “Good morning.”

  He was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder with his chin resting there. “Want me to cook the eggs?” He saw a skillet sitting on a burner with a lump of butter plopped in the middle.

  “Sure.”

  Together they moved around in the kitchen fluidly, as if they’d done so before. Setting the table and placing the food was John’s job while Chelsea poured drinks. It felt good and right and caused her to pray for a lifetime of such moments with him. John’s parents came in just as they finished.

  Dragging a chair from the table, Claude whistled, suggesting, “I think we ought to keep her.”

  Chelsea grinned at him, admitting, “I’m just trying to impress you. Usually, I have fruit and yogurt for breakfast.” Taking the biscuits over to the table, she sat two on Claude’s plate.

  “Consider me impressed, little girl.”

  Louise admitted, “We don’t eat like this anymore. Most mornings he eats oatmeal, and I eat cereal.” With Chelsea in her kitchen, cooking as she would for John, Louise could do nothing but continue the prayers she’d begun the night before. It hardly seemed right to pray for a union between a man and a woman so distant in age, but how could she not want such a wife for her son? Early on she discovered that Chelsea was a Christian, and just as quickly, she saw that she adored her son. Those were the only two things that really mattered.

  Once she joined them at the table, Chelsea reached for Claude and John’s hands. After Claude said the prayer, Chelsea merely sat and watched everyone dig in. There was nothing better than being part of a family. Glancing over at John, she noticed his plate was piled high, and she knew she would happily spend the rest of her life cooking for him if only he were willing. More than anything, she wanted to have a family with him. When considering she had only known him three months and felt what she did in such a short time, it was hard to imagine how she would feel by April. At the thought of the end, she suddenly lost her appetite.

  No matter her fear over the future, though, she’d settled the matter with the Lord the night before. When dread and fear came against her in the months to come, which they surely would, she was determined to push them aside and simply enjoy being with John. She realized that if she spent all of her time anxious about the end, she would always regret not living in the moment with him. Never had she been happier than she was with him, and she loved the fact that they were really dating. She had the perfect relationship with the perfect man. At KI, her work was not only interesting, but it allowed them more time together. With him, she was able to travel and experience places she might not ever see again. It was an extraordinary life he was offering her, even if an expiration date loomed overhead.

  From that day forward, she would live in the moment, love him without holding back, and pray that the Lord would change his heart. She thought of a verse from the psalms. If you take delight in the Lord, He will give you the desires of your heart. She delighted in the Lord, and had for most of her life. Was that a promise for her? More than she had ever wanted anything, John was the desire of her heart. Understanding the verse never intended to promise that everyone gets what they want, she hoped in this case, that John was God’s desire for her. If that were the case, then nothing could stop it. If not, then somehow she’d find a way to live again. After what happened with Tuck, she discovered strength within her, a strength that only God was able to provide, that would certainly sustain her again if she lost John. That was the one and only sure thing she had to stand on.

  John left with his dad in order to ride out to his own ranch. Knowing his mother and Chelsea had plenty to talk about, he wasn’t concerned about leaving her. Actually, he wondered if Chelsea would notice he was gone. When he gave her a peck on the cheek and told her he was leaving, she barely looked up from her cookbook. Together, the women were pouring over recipes looking for a dessert for dinner. In a way, he was glad to get out of the house for a while. He noticed something so eerily comfortable between his mom and Chelsea that it caused him to feel alarming feelings and think dangerous thoughts. Every now and then, he wondered if things might somehow work out between them but then reminded himself of all the reasons it couldn’t possibly. There on the ranch, away from work and the real world, he felt like a different person entirely and could almost see the possibility of a future with Chelsea. Within seconds of such thoughts, though, the demands of his work and the reality of their situation shut down such notions.

  Riding toward J
ohn’s place, Claude noticed how quiet his son was. Certain his mind was on Chelsea, he commented, “Your mama sure likes your young lady. Thinks she’s a real sweet girl.”

  “She is.”

  Not one to beat around the bush much, Claude asked, “Thinking about marriage?”

  “No sir. We won’t marry.” Pausing for a moment, John felt sad at that admission. “We’re having a good time together for now though.” What could he say? He couldn’t tell his father that they had an arrangement, a contract for a year. He’d disapprove, thinking he was doing Chelsea wrong.

  “But you like being with her?”

  “Sure I do.” How could he not?

  “You have no intention of marrying her, though?”

  “No. I’ll never marry again.”

  Claude became quiet for a while. He would feel sorry for John if he thought it had anything to do with him loving Tracy after all those years, but he knew that wasn’t the case. In the few visits Tracy came with John, it was clear he was not so deeply in love with her to begin with. Back then, he spent most of his time on this call or that. More often than not, when they did talk, it was about some high-falutin’ party or people they knew who were buying something she wanted, but never about things that mattered. Compared to what he was seeing between John and Chelsea, he was a totally different man. The man he witnessed the night before laughing with his young lady and his mama, now that was the boy he raised. It felt good to have him home again and see a better future in the making.

  Disappointed by John’s attitude, he said what he really thought. “I gotta say, son, that’s about the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  Glancing over at his father in the passenger seat, John didn’t have to ask what he meant. His dad was a pretty perceptive guy. He always had been. As a boy, John could hardly get away with a thing without his dad catching on.