“Let’s get this straight. Your mother will always have a piece of my heart. She’ll never leave me, but she’s not here anymore, Son. She’s in heaven, and I’m here on earth. Your mom and I talked about this. She told me to be happy when she’s gone. To get on with my life. I’m not doing anything more than your mom asked, and Millie helps me do that.”
Dale turned away, unable to respond. His father didn’t understand that he wanted to fill that space. It was his right to give his father support, but Mildred didn’t give him a chance.
Dale was needled by the possibility of his father and Mildred becoming a couple. The vision raked over him, leaving him recoiling. His mother had been gone such a short time. What had happened to that perfect love? That soul mate idea he’d had?
If his relationship with Bev continued to grow, he didn’t want his father to end up being his father-in-law. The situation overpowered all reason. Somehow he needed to explain this to his father, but until he could do it without feeling the frustration that overwhelmed him, he would say nothing.
Bev sat beneath the hair dryer at the Loving Hair Salon and flipped through the pages of a magazine. The article she’d been reading had come to an abrupt halt when Bev reached a torn-out page. A recipe, she decided. She disliked people who had the audacity to rip pages from magazines in doctors’ offices and beauty shops.
She dropped the magazine into her lap and closed her eyes, thinking about Thanksgiving dinner the day before. It had seemed special to have a houseful. Dale had been tremendous with the kids. He’d played a board game with them, and Al had joined in when she and her mother had left for the kitchen to finish cooking the dinner.
Bev had sensed a strain between Dale and his father. The tension surprised her, and she wished Dale would tell her what had happened between them. She’d learned to let Dale struggle with his problems alone until he was ready. They both had things to learn.
She had been taught one important lesson. If she followed God’s leading, she had nothing to fear. Bev had struggled with her feelings for Dale. She’d held back. She’d lived in the past, afraid of the future, but the Lord had opened her eyes to new possibilities, and she’d trusted in Him. Her life was in God’s gracious hands.
Bev nestled deeper into the salon chair and leaned back her head as far as it could go without pushing the curlers against her scalp. Sitting under a dryer was never comfortable.
Voices hummed around her, hidden behind the thrumming of the blower. Bev had noticed two women from Fellowship Church arrive after she had. Now they were seated nearby, and their voices lifted above the other shop noises.
“You’d think she’d have better sense than to make it so obvious,” the older woman said.
Bev didn’t know the woman’s name, but she’d seen her at various church functions. The other, Mrs. Taylor, shook her head. “They’re old friends, I think,” she said. “Mildred’s a Christian woman. She wouldn’t do anything she thought was sinful.”
When Bev overheard her mother’s name, her pulse kicked up a notch. She turned her head away so they wouldn’t notice her, but kept an ear aimed toward them and gave full attention to their conversation.
“Old friends or not, I suspect some hanky-panky. His wife’s been in the grave for little more than a month.”
Bev winced, hearing the woman’s suggestive comment.
“We don’t know how we’d react if we lost our husbands, Marge,” Mrs. Taylor said. “We really can’t judge.”
Marge, Bev thought, having wondered about the other woman’s name.
Marge’s voice rose in pitch so the tone penetrated the roar in Bev’s ears. “Do you think I’m judging? I’m not. I’m only reporting what I see. I’ve seen them in restaurants together. They giggle like teenagers. I’ve even seen them shopping. Goodness, what do you expect a person to think?”
“They’re friends. Wouldn’t you help a friend in need?”
Marge rolled her eyes. “In need of what?”
Bev recoiled at the innuendo in the woman’s voice.
“They sit together in church, of all things,” Marge said. “I saw them again at the Thanksgiving service. Seems like they’re tossing their sin in everyone’s faces.”
“Church is where all of us sinners belong,” Mrs. Taylor said, stressing the word us. “Ye who are without sin cast the first stone.”
She couldn’t hear it, but Bev could tell Marge was huffing and puffing at Mrs. Taylor’s comment.
Bev clamped her jaw, riled by what she’d heard. Mrs. Taylor had tried to skew the facts into something positive, but the woman named Marge would have no part of it. Gossip. Bev had seen it coming, but now what would she do about it? Her mother would have no part in listening to Bev’s warnings.
Anger and frustration competed inside Bev. Anger at the woman. Frustration with her mother.
Dale disliked the situation, too. He hadn’t said much, but Bev saw it in his behavior. Lately he seemed to avoid her mother. When they were together, Dale didn’t talk much. He stood off and stared out the window. That seemed to be his way of coping.
Mrs. Taylor’s comments about sitting in judgment pressed against Bev’s thoughts, and she realized she and Dale were also guilty. Bev liked to think she was only safeguarding her mother from hurt, but was that the truth? She was also protecting herself from the scrutiny of others. When people spoke badly of her mother, she felt it reflected on her parallel relationship with Dale.
Maybe Dale was right. Falling in love, or whatever the emotion was that she felt, had its difficult moments. It had roused fears, caused confusion and now provoked humiliation. Life wasn’t fair.
Macy, her beautician, headed Bev’s way and lifted the hood of the dryer. She tested a curl and deemed it dry. As Bev rose from under the hood and the church women realized her identity, they cringed before sending her an uncomfortable smile.
Bev managed a pleasant look but turned away without speaking to them. She had to weigh what she’d heard and decide if she should tell her mother. If these two women were talking about her, how many other people were having a romp with gossip?
Chapter Fourteen
Bev looked across the snow-covered hills as she settled onto the front of the toboggan. With Christmas only a couple of weeks away, she questioned her sanity coming along with Dale and the kids, but he’d promised he’d take them sledding, and here she was.
“You wait here,” Dale said, his voice ringing in the stillness. “I want your mom and me to have a turn now.”
Behind her, Michael and Kristin whined about the unfairness, but when she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Dale speaking to them in a softer voice she couldn’t hear. When they smiled, Bev figured he’d worked his wiles on them.
The stress of the past weeks ebbed away as she breathed in the crisp air. The sun glazed the surrounding landscape, making it look like a wedding gown covered with beads and sequins. The snow sparkled and glinted, almost hurting her eyes while the picture triggered a hope for her future. She prayed Dale would soon ask her to marry him. She was ready.
The toboggan shifted as Dale moved it near the crest, and she felt him climb aboard, cuddling her. He wrapped his arms around her bulky jacket and planted a cold kiss on the nape of her neck. Bev let out a screech, then a chuckle as Dale nuzzled deeper.
“Aren’t you going down?” Michael asked, apparently impatient with their antics.
“Give us a shove,” Dale said.
The sled jerked, and she heard the children’s laughter behind her as they shoved against Dale’s back to slide the toboggan forward. As the sled left the crest, Bev looked back and saw the kids tumble to the ground, giggling.
Dale hugged her tightly when the sled bounded forward. The toboggan picked up speed and, skidding over a snowdrift, they became airborne before smacking to the ground. When they landed, the sled tilted, and Bev felt Dale slip from behind her on the sled.
Her error was to look behind her. As she turned, Bev lost her balance and tumbled
from the board and slid the final distance on her bottom.
Bev sat in the cold snow, making sure her limbs were intact and grinning at her stupid mistake. The children’s gleeful cries grew nearer as Dale pulled her from the ground. She brushed the snow from her backside as Michael raced up to her with a look of concern.
“I’m okay.” She smiled so he’d believe her.
“Some ride,” Dale said.
“I prefer riding down the hill all the way on the toboggan,” Bev said.
Dale’s eyes sparkled like the snow with mischief. Even though their parents’ friendship had met problems, Dale had become more relaxed in the past weeks, as if his personal struggles had finally been resolved. Bev had to admit he’d kept his promise and had proven himself by doting on the children. The toboggan trip was an example.
“Let’s go again,” Michael called, already heading back up the hill.
“I’m through,” Bev whispered so as not to disappoint the kids.
“Michael, you and Kristin go back up. I’ll be there in a minute,” Dale called. He took a step toward Bev, and then had second thoughts. He cupped his hand around his mouth and yelled. “Don’t come down on the toboggan alone. Do you hear me?”
The children glanced over their shoulder, their faces crumpled with disappointment, but they finally gave a nod. Bev watched until they reached the top, then sighed, relieved, as she noticed them gathering snow into snowballs.
“I’m going to the car for the hot chocolate Mom sent along,” Bev said. “We can have it when you come down.”
Dale glanced up the hill. “I’ll walk with you and catch my breath. We can keep an eye on the kids from there.”
Bev had laughed when her mother had supplied her with a large thermos of hot chocolate, some homemade cookies and a first-aid kit for their tobogganing trip. Her mother’s paradoxical view was typical—ready for fun, yet prepared for an emergency.
Though she’d laughed at her mother’s thoughtfulness, it also broke her heart. She was certain her mom’s kindness had been partially generated by boredom. Following the gossip that had finally reached her ears, Mildred had avoided seeing Al for the past couple of weeks. The situation had turned into a standoff between the two dear friends.
Bev strode beside Dale, feeling his hand on hers, and in that private moment, she decided to ask the question she’d wanted to ask without the children hearing. “How’s your Dad doing?”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Terrible.”
Her chest tightened. “Mom, too. Here we are having fun, and they’re miserable. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
Dale released her hand when they reached the car, hit the remote and opened the back door. “Dad wouldn’t go to church last week. I suppose you noticed.”
She’d missed Al at the service but hadn’t had the heart to ask. “Mom went to Unity Church. It’s closer to her apartment she said. I’m afraid she’s avoiding Fellowship Church like the plague.”
Bev pulled out her mother’s large thermos and grabbed four cups. Dale took them from her, then captured her free hand again and brought it to his lips. He held it there as if his kiss had set him thinking.
“I wonder if you should tell your mother that Dad isn’t doing well.”
“You think so?” At this point, Bev wanted to stay out of the situation. “I’m hoping that now she’ll be so busy settling into her new apartment that maybe—”
“Christmas will be here in a couple of weeks,” Dale interrupted, “and I can’t handle this during the holidays. Church. Dinner. Nothing will be right. Who will I spend my Christmas with? My dad or you and the kids?”
Bev leaned against the car and let the question bang around in her head until she had another question of her own. “What about after the holidays, Dale? Are we going to complain if they continue seeing each other? We have to accept their decision. Either we’re going to accept their friendship or we’re not.”
He nodded. “I’ll accept whatever they decide.”
“Right, and if we hear gossip, we’ll have to squelch it or let it pass. We can’t be hot and cold in this situation. It’s too hurtful for them both.”
He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “You’re right. Let your mom know Dad’s miserable. I can’t watch him mope. This isn’t like him.”
He took Bev’s hand and started back toward the hill. “Dad used to love his work. Now I hear it in his voice. He’s like a robot. Dad’s always been filled with stories about people. Now? Nothing. It’s as if he died with my mother.”
“He did in a way.”
“Well, it’s got to stop. I don’t want to lose both parents.”
“I’ll talk with Mom, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I know, but we’ll pray. God will see the right thing happens.”
Hearing Dale give the problem to God warmed her more than the hot chocolate would. He’d become a different man from the one she’d met in the parking lot the spring before.
“I’d better get up there before the kids do something we’re sorry for,” Dale said.
Bev slipped her arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, and I’ll be waiting here with the hot chocolate.”
With Bev’s kiss still warming his cheek, Dale trudged up the hill, his feet sinking into the ankle-deep snow.
“Finally,” Michael said in his pouty way. “We waited forever.”
“It just felt like it, pal,” Dale said, patting the boy’s shoulder.
“Let’s get going,” Kristin said, dancing a jig around his legs. “I’m tired of waiting.”
“Patience, young lady.” Dale gave Kristin’s ponytail a playful yank.
She spun around and jerked her hair away from him. “You’re supposed to be nice.”
“I am nice. I brought you sledding, didn’t I?”
She grinned and tripped over her boot, then plopped into the snow. Dale chuckled and helped her to her feet.
“Let’s get going,” he said, positioning the sled at the crest of the hill. “Okay, all aboard.”
“Can’t I go down alone?” Michael asked.
“I don’t think so, Michael. You have to steer this thing.”
“I know how. I can do it,” Michael said. He put his hand on his hip. “I’m not a baby.”
Kristin pressed her fist on her hip. “I’m not a baby either.”
“No, but you’re a girl,” Michael said.
Dale stepped in before the battle began. “And a mighty pretty girl, too.”
He pondered the wisdom of allowing Michael to handle the smaller sled alone. It would give him a sense of accomplishment and be a positive stroke he needed if—
“Come on, Dale,” Michael moaned. “Just this once.”
“Only if you stop whining,” Dale said, immediately sensing he’d made a mistake.
“Yippee!” Michael bellowed. He jumped around in circles like an athlete who scored the winning goal.
“Get on the sled, princess,” Dale said to Kristin. “I’m honored to take a ride with the prettiest girl on the hill.”
“I’m the only girl,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
He chucked her under the chin, swept her into the air and plopped her on the front of the larger sled. He then pulled their toboggan to the crest of the hill. After he’d helped situate Michael, Dale stood behind his sled. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Michael said.
“Let’s go.” Dale gave a running push and jumped onto his sled as it began its wild descent down the hill. Dale’s toboggan moved ahead and he glanced back and saw Michael’s sled not far behind. The children’s screams of laughter filled his ears as Michael tore past.
But fear gripped Dale when he saw Michael hit a snowdrift and lose his balance. The toboggan seemed to ride on its side, and as it gained speed, he watched in horror as it flipped into the air, sending Michael tumbling down the hill in front of them.
While his heart thudded, Dale struggled to veer his toboggan away
from Michael and his upturned sled. As they passed, Dale caught a glimpse of the boy and feared he’d been hurt.
Before Dale could climb from the toboggan, Bev had rushed to Michael’s side. When Dale arrived, slowed by the snowdrifts, she sat on the ground cradling her son in her arms while blood ran from a gash in his forehead.
Dale crouched down, his stomach in knots, his guilt descending like a tornado. The incident had been his fault.
“He’s okay,” Bev said, “but the toboggan caught him in the head.”
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Michael said, rubbing his brow near the spot where he’d been struck.
“Don’t touch it,” Bev said. “You’ll get blood on your hands.”
“It wasn’t your fault, pal,” Dale said, feeling the brunt of his stupidity. “I let you come down alone.”
“It’s okay, Dale. We all make mistakes.” Bev leaned over and kissed Michael’s head.
But it wasn’t okay, and Dale knew it. He was the adult, the father figure who was wise yet fair. He should have said no instead of trying to make Michael happy.
While defeat settled over him, Dale pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it against Michael’s wound.
“I’m okay,” Michael said again, “and it was so much fun.” He wriggled from his mother’s arms and tried to stand. Instead, he plopped back onto the snow until Dale hoisted him off the ground and supported him until he had his balance.
“I can carry you back to the car,” Dale said, ready to lift the boy.
“No, I can walk.” Michael looked at Dale with pride, and despite his frustration with himself, Dale knew he’d given the boy one thing he needed—a sense of accomplishment.
But Dale had also learned one horrible truth. He was never cut out to be a father. He had too much to learn.
Bev hurried ahead across the white expanse toward the car, dragging the larger toboggan. “You laughed about my mother’s first-aid kit,” she called over her shoulder.
Kristin hovered at their side as Dale walked with Michael, one hand on his shoulder, the other pulling the smaller sled. He longed to hold the boy in his arms, to waylay his own fears that Michael might have been seriously injured. The day on the pier charged through his thoughts. The world was full of danger, and a father needed to be on guard. Dale’s dad had been, and Dale should have been also.
Loving Promises Page 14
