by Nancy Hopper
But Tasha had retreated too far, too fast. She couldn’t seem to stop running, now. She couldn’t trust him any further. He’d rejected her overture, and it was time to retreat.
“Tim, I have to go. Thanks for everything.” She smiled, to soften the blow. “Goodbye.”
“No! Tasha, no. Please wait. Son of a gun.” he growled, as she jumped in her car and locked the door.
He stood there with his hands on his hips, and watched her slip away from him. She did it, post haste. He shook his head slowly at her disappearing tail lights, and bit the insides of his cheeks in frustration. Bad words were lurking there, waiting for an invitation to spill.
Tim didn’t allow them any opportunity. He cleared his brain and looked up to heaven. “Did she say she loved me?” he asked. “Or did she say there ought to be a law against loving me? Is there a difference? Did she mean it? Or did she just get scared and run? Was she teasing me, or did she get offended because I thought she was? Did she mean it?” he grilled the angels insistently. “She had to have! She wouldn't tease about something like that.”
Finally, he let his hands fall against his sides with a frustrated slap, and wandered back upstairs, to his room. He fell on his bed with a groan, and tried to piece together what had just happened.
In the end, the only conclusion he could reach was that he’d botched it. Again.
He smiled grimly as he thought of an idea. He picked up the phone and called Lucinda. He grinned as she answered. “Hey, Lucinda. This is Tim Rain. I’m sorry to call so late, but I wanted to talk to you before Tasha gets there. I have a really big favor to ask.”
“What is that, Mr. Timothy?” Lucinda asked eagerly.
“Well; you know I’ve gotten kind of fond of you all. Would you be willing to send me away with a picture or two? I’d love to have a picture of you and Tasha and the kids, if you find any to spare. I’ll be praying for you, and I love to have pictures to look at when I pray.”
“Oh! I would be delighted, Mr. Tim!” Lucinda agreed. She was touched that he cared so much.
“Thanks, Lucinda. I’ll stop by to say goodbye tomorrow on my way to the airport. You take good care of Tasha for me, and I’ll be by to see you when I come through here again. All right?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Tim. Thank you so much!”
Tim gave her his office address, and said goodnight.
He shook his head as he looked at the clock. It was going to be one long night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tim couldn’t help himself. He bought white roses and took them to her on his way to the airport the next day, at noon. Reuben was taking the same flight, so they were sharing a taxi. He ribbed Tim unmercifully about the flowers and the girl, but Tim wasn't perturbed by it.
Lucinda answered the door, and joyfully let him in. She slipped off to get him some pictures, and he stuffed them in his Bible, while Lucinda went to get Tasha.
She came down the stairs slowly. Her bangs were partly covering one eye, and she looked adorable and sexy. He smiled, and shook his head. She always knew how to twist his guts, and drive him to his knees.
When she stopped and looked up at him, he could smell her cologne, the products she used in her hair, her sweet body. It almost hurt.
“Hey.” he said quietly. She didn’t respond, other than to blink and patiently wait for him to go on.
“I, um … sense that while I was trying to refrain from ravishing you on the garage floor last night, you were possibly saying something that I desperately wanted to hear. I’m sorry that I didn't catch on immediately. I came to see if you’d consider picking up the conversation.”
She looked away, and pressed her lips together more tightly.
He placed the roses in her arms, and stepped closer. “I’m sorry. Please?” he asked gently.
She seemed frozen, so he went on.
“Let’s see. I was asking you to marry me, at least come to Jackson, and you were saying something about how you might love me, and you kissed me.”
“That was a goodbye kiss, if you will think through the testosterone poisoning.” she interrupted coldly. She raised cool eyes to find him wounded, but he tried to appear amused.
“Well, it didn’t feel like goodbye.” he argued lightly. “If I’d not had the blood thrashing in my ears, I think I'd have heard you saying 'yes'. But somehow, things got out of hand again. Tasha, will you please reconsider? Let's back up, and talk about it again. Please?”
She looked at him evenly. “No. I’m sorry.”
Tim looked shattered. Something just died in his eyes, as he digested her answer. He looked away, and then met her gaze frankly.
“Okay.” he said quietly. He looked so hurt, so defeated, that Tasha felt fearful and ashamed.
“Tim, I need time. I can’t afford to be impetuous.”
“What are you saying, then?” he asked softly.
She sighed. “I don’t know. Go do some things for awhile, I guess, and we’ll see what happens.”
“Okay.” he agreed listlessly. “Take care.” He turned and walked down the steps without looking at her again.
Tasha opened her mouth and reached after him, but she didn’t know what to say. “Call me … sometime.” she said lamely.
Tim looked up to acknowledge her words, and nodded. He gave her a long, tortured look, before he climbed into his cab. He was not a happy man.
Timothy’s image wouldn’t die in Tasha’s heart. He’d really gotten a hold on her, and she couldn’t shake him. She’d wake up in the morning with a vision of him walking down her front entryway again, just the way he had that last morning. She could even see the way his Levi’s hugged his hips and the way his shoulders filled out his suit coat. She picked up his business card at least twenty times a day, and just stared at it.
When she’d ski, she could envision him ahead of her on the slope, going hard and fast, his athletic body amazing her. When she went to bed at night, she could almost feel his arms closing around her, his lips on her brow. When she’d close her eyes, she’d see him smiling that handsome, sweet, wicked smile at her. It was driving her absolutely crazy.
Finally, he called, two weeks after the end of the conference. Tasha happened to pick up the phone; and she froze when he responded to her answer.
“Hey, Tasha. It’s Tim.” he said quietly.
Tasha sat down on a chair, fast. “Timothy? Where are you?”
He chuckled. “I’m stretched out on a lounger looking at Lake Powell, and wishing you were here. I miss you.” he said lightly.
“Really? Well, thanks.” she responded with light sarcasm.
He just laughed.
“What are you doing at Lake Powell?”
“Well, I’ve been doing a bit on the Navajo reservations, and I have a friend who lives on the lake. He invited me to stay and relax for a few days. I couldn’t resist. There’s just something about a dock and motor boats and chaise lounges and fishing poles and water skis, that make you want to say 'yes'.”
Tasha smiled. “I can well imagine.” she admitted. “So where are you headed next?”
He sighed. “I’ll be in Phoenix next week, and Santa Fe the week after. After that, I don’t know. There are quite a number of offers pending, right now. I am really not sure what I need to be doing, just yet. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I think I’d better slow down, and try to find out what the boss has in mind.”
“Sounds like wisdom.” she admitted.
Tim tried to gauge her voice. She sounded very relaxed. “Hey, honey. You know, I felt pretty bad about the way I left you.” he said gently.
She tightened up. “Yes. I did, too.” she admitted.
“I know I threw a lot at you, all at one time.” he apologized. “Are you going to be able to forgive me for being an insensitive jerk?”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Hey. I’m used to it.” She teased.
He chuckled. “Do you think we could back up to what you were saying about two seconds before you sa
id goodbye to me that last night of the conference?” he asked quietly. “I think I need to listen a little more closely. I missed too much of it while trying to manage my testosterone level.”
Tears welled up in Tasha’s eyes. “I was just telling you that there ought to be a law protecting poor, defenseless women from smooth operators like you.” she lied.
Tim bit his cheek, and took a deep breath. “I may be insensitive at times, but I’m not deaf or dumb, darlin’. I would really like to know what you were trying to say.”
Tasha began to panic inside just a bit. “It doesn’t matter. I was just trying to say goodbye. Remember, I told you so.”
He sighed. “Yeah. I remember.” he agreed tiredly. He touched the photo of Tasha that Lucinda had given him, and wished he could touch her cheek.
“So, are you ready to come to Jackson for a visit, yet?” he asked lightly.
“No. I don’t think so, Tim.”
“No? You mean you want to come and stay? That’s fine with me. I’ll get your ticket all set up. Are you bringing the kids, too?”
Tasha laughed nervously. “Nice try, Tim.”
He sighed. “All right, Tasha. More time. More patience. More cold showers. More long nights.”
She smiled. She’d have been able to voice the same complaints, if she were willing.
“You know, Tasha. I had to tell you as soon as possible about Gary and I. You wouldn't have understood if I’d kept it to myself. I mean, you would have found out sometime.”
“Yes, I know.” she admitted. “Tim, I really am glad you called. I was going through some things of Gary’s, and I came across something he said. You know, he said so many things that didn’t make sense at the end, but they all seemed very important to him. So, I wrote them all down and tried to sort through them later. Gary’s mom helped me understand some of it. But, Tim, he talked about you. He said that you would come, later. I remember the night vividly. It's as if he knew you and I would run into one another somehow; like he saw it coming.”
A lead weight gripped Timothy’s heart. He closed his eyes and willed the tears not to flow. A deep sorrow filled his heart whenever he thought of Gary, and this time was no exception.
“At the time, I asked his mother about the names he’d mentioned, and she told me that you were a college friend. Some of what he said didn’t make much sense, but I thought that you might like to hear it anyway.” she offered.
“Yeah. You’re right, I would.” he assured her tensely.
She said, "You know, it's funny, Tim. But I remember that night so clearly; I can see his face, the way he looked. Gary looked past me and lit up, as if he were seeing someone. And he said, 'Tim'. He laughed, and said, 'It will have to be Tim'. It was an isolated moment, when he seemed purely lucid, and knew exactly what he was talking about."
"Read it to me. Please, honey." Tim begged eagerly.
Tasha took a deep breath, and read to Tim what Gary had said – how Tim had been the best friend he’d ever had; how he wished Tasha could meet him. How Tim was the one; how he wished he could see him. How Tim would come ‘later’. At the right time. And that she was to give Tim his blessing.
It broke Tim’s heart into pieces. He just winced, and let tears fall from his eyes as she read to him. He also had more than an inkling that Gary had in fact been seeing a vision at the moment he’d spoken those words; of Tim coming into Tasha’s life. Of him being 'the one' – for her.
It was confirmation to Tim about Tasha, but he didn’t dare even suggest that to her. He was sure, from the sound of her voice, that she wasn't interpreting it the same way.
Still, his suspicions were clenched, when he heard that Gary had wanted Tasha to give Tim his blessing. He'd said for Tim, to 'do what he had to do.'
It hurt Timothy tremendously somehow, to know that Gary had foreseen; cared; and blessed his friend. It meant the world to Tim. It was like a miraculous message from beyond the grave, from Gary, to bolster his faith and confirm what was in Tim's heart. And how unselfish a love Gary had for both of them, that he could release Tasha to Tim's care, even before he was gone. His precious wife …
When she was finished, there was silence.
“Tim?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah.” he managed.
Tasha could hear the pain and tears in his voice; and suddenly, she was in tears, herself. She could tell that Tim was very much touched by all that Gary had said.
“I miss him.” he admitted, when he’d pulled himself together a bit. “I never should have lost touch with him. I had a few nudges to call him, but I was so busy, I just never got around to it. I can’t believe how foolish I was! Just for one more chance to talk to him! What would it have meant?” he asked incredulously.
“Timothy,” she chided. “You had no way to know. Gary didn’t keep in touch, either. And then at the end, he didn’t want you to know. He was very insistent that you all remember him the way he had been before he became ill. Not lying in a bed, skin and bones and unable to even get up for the necessities. It was too hard on him to think of having you see him that way. And it would have been a horrible shock for you.”
Tim was quiet. “Yeah. I know. I still would have given my right arm to be there just one time – to sit and talk to him, tell him how I felt about him and be able to look at him, and touch him.”
Tasha felt tears choke her again. “He knew you’d feel that way. I remember offering to find you. He said that if you knew about his condition, you’d have come. He didn’t want that, Tim. Well, anyway; he left you this message. At least you finally heard it.” she offered lamely.
“Yeah.” he agreed. “Thanks, Tasha. I know it can’t be easy for you to share this stuff with anybody.”
She shrugged. “No, I want to. With you, anyway. He would have wanted you to know how he felt.”
Something happened then, as both of their hearts constricted with the pain of their common loss. There was a closer bonding, something precious that took place between them.
“Hey, are you doing all right?” he asked worriedly.
“Of course. I just wanted to tell you this.” she avoided.
“It means more than I can tell you.” he assured her. “You know, honey, I will help you out if you ever need anything. No strings attached. Even if I hadn’t fallen madly in love with you, I’d do it for Gary’s sake.”
She smiled. “Thanks. But I’m really all right.”
“Will you get mad at me if I call every now and then?” he asked lightly.
“No. Tim, of course not.” she assured him. Her heart was leaping, but she was far too frightened to want him to know it.
“Thanks, darlin’. I appreciate that.” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll drop you a line when I figure out where I’m headed. Would you give Lucy a kiss on the cheek for me, and the same for each of the kids?”
Tasha grinned. “Yes.” she assured him. “But if it sends Lucinda off into an, 'oh, glory to God!' spasm, it'll be the last time.” she teased.
“All right. You take care, and call me if you need anything.” he ordered.
“I will. Tim, you take care.” she said gently.
"Thanks, sweetheart. You remember that I love you. And I’m still waiting for the right answer.”
She began to cry. She couldn't say why; somehow it just tore at her heart to have to end the call.
“A new day has dawned for both of us, sweet thing. Pretending the sun hasn't risen won't make it so.” Tim said quietly.
The words froze Tasha to the bone. She recalled Gary saying that same thing to her – that a new day would dawn for her! To have Tim say the same thing was simply uncanny! She didn't know what to think, or say to him. But it felt very much like a clear confirmation to her regarding Timothy. She was stunned!
“’Bye.” he said quietly.
“’Bye.” she whispered. It was difficult to hang up.
He called her two weeks later to tell her that he was going to the East coast. He sounded a little bit
frustrated and harried.
“What’s bothering you, Tim?” she asked lightly.
He chuckled. “Am I that transparent? It’s nothing. I just kind of hoped I’d get to see you. Lake Powell was tantalizingly close to you.”
She smiled. “Well, Tim.” she said helplessly.
“Don’t you ‘well Tim’ me.” he warned. “I want to see you. I want to see you real bad.”
She blushed, and smiled.
“If I came to Salt Lake, would you see me, Tasha?”
She panicked, and tried to gather her whirling thoughts. “Well; sure.” she answered uncomfortably.
He laughed at her. “Unfortunately it won’t be right away, so relax. You have a reprieve. But it’s not because I didn’t try to come that way. I don't suppose you'd travel with me for a while?" he asked teasingly.
“No, Tim. Even if I didn't have the children to think of, you know that's out of the question." she said firmly.
“Aw. You're no fun.” he teased.
He wrote her letters. The first one came two weeks after the last call. He was in New York, speaking at a conference. It was a very matter of fact, friendly letter with no inquiries, no pressure. He told her about his friends, his trip, the weather, the people. He asked after the children and signed the letter, “Love, Tim.”
The second letter came from Maine, where he was ministering in a church. The third came from Sweden. The fourth, from Germany. The fifth letter came from the Ukraine.
Then, the letters came from Vienna, Paris, Amsterdam; from England, from Switzerland, Norway; from Ireland and Wales. They came from Italy, from Poland, from Scotland.
He told her about all the people he met, the places he skied. He told her of his discoveries, about the people and the cultures of all the places he went.
She discovered on a whole new level, that Tim Rain was a very intelligent and cultured man. And it didn’t seem to matter, given his letters, whether he had an interpreter with him, or not. When he prayed for people, the Holy Spirit was falling and touching them deeply.
"I'm finding that words aren't everything. They can be a powerful weapon, of course. But, if there's no translator, somehow, the love speaks -- and God gets the job done somehow, anyway."
