by Davis, Mary
“You’re going to see him, aren’t you?”
Jackie swung around to face her. “Him? Him is my husband! I need to see where things lead.”
“I can tell you exactly where they will lead.”
“Mother, this isn’t open for discussion.”
Her father came in then. “What’s the commotion?”
“She’s going to meet him.”
Her father frowned. “We wanted to talk to you about this.” He stood next to her mother. The sides had been drawn. “What actually happened to him? Where has he been?”
“I don’t know anything more than I did the other night.”
“Are you sure it’s wise to go then?” her father said.
“How else am I going to find out if I don’t? For two and a half years, I have been walking on eggshells with everyone afraid even to mention Roger.”
“Maybe he could come for dinner. We could get everything out in the open then,” her father suggested.
Though a diplomatic approach, it may not be best if everything were out in the open all at once, at least not until she knew what everything was. “I don’t think that would work right now, Dad.”
Her mother jumped on that. “Don’t be idealistic. He swooped into your life once before and caught you up, then left you for who knows what. Now he’s back without an explanation, and you can just go along with it? Don’t be naive.”
She gritted her teeth, resolved not to react to her mother in anger. If her mother hadn’t protested so much the first time when Roger “swooped” into her life, she might not have jumped into marriage so quickly. She would still have married him, but their engagement would have lasted longer.
She was tired of feeling sorry for herself. What was wrong with wanting to spend a little time with her husband? After all, wasn’t his return, with his being alive and well, more important than his absence? “It’s time for me to walk with my head up as if life means something to me again.” She knew she would have to ask the tough questions and get some answers, but right now she wanted to celebrate.
“So you are going to cast our feelings aside and walk all over us?”
Oh, brother! “I’m not walking on you.” Her mother’s hormones were erratic these days, and she often took things the wrong way, blowing the simple out of proportion. “I don’t want to look back on this when I’m old and wonder what might have been. If that means giving Roger time, then I will.” She didn’t like to be pushed, and she wouldn’t push him—yet.
“So you’ve thought this through?” her father asked.
“For two and a half years.”
Her mother’s lips were pursed as if she were in pain, and her arms were folded tightly across her chest. “We obviously can’t talk you out of it. You might as well leave RJ here with us while you race toward disaster.”
Jackie took a controlled breath. She knew her mother meant well. “Roger is not disaster. You don’t know where he’s been or what he’s been through.”
“And neither do you.”
She never understood her mother’s dislike for Roger. “I’m going now.” She walked to the living room archway. “RJ, it’s time to go.”
RJ jumped up and came to her. “Me go swing.”
“Please promise us you’ll be careful,” her father called to her as she headed for the door.
“John, stop her.”
“I can’t do that.”
“But he’s going to hurt our baby again.”
“She’s a grown woman.”
It didn’t matter what her mother said about Roger being disaster. She needed to see him again. It would hurt too much if he didn’t show. She had been waiting for this for too long. She strapped RJ in the stroller outside. Maybe they’d had a rocky start, but Roger was not a disaster waiting to happen. She had to believe he truly wanted things to work out between them, and he was so good with RJ. Maybe that was all she had. It was enough to start with, she told herself.
The park was empty, the fog thicker here than at the house. The dampness seeped through her clothes. She couldn’t see Roger, but then she couldn’t see the other side of the park. He could be in the fog out of her sight. That’s how she felt the last couple of years, as if Roger were just out of her sight and her reach.
“Swing!” RJ pulled at the safety straps and tried to climb out.
Jackie stopped the stroller and freed him. He ran to the swing and waited for her to catch up. She lifted him in and gave him a push while scanning the fog. Movement in the fog caught her attention. She stared, forcing a shapeless image into focus. The hair on the back of her neck came to life. She resisted the urge to flee. But the harder she stared, the less she could make out.
Then she noticed movement in another section of fog to her left; a shadowy figure formed with a firm stride. Roger! She forgot where she was and had to duck quickly to avoid being knocked over by RJ in the swing. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore, but her emotions acted as though she were. He was her husband, she reminded herself, not some adolescent crush. But just the same the feelings were present and strong.
“You were distracted,” he said, walking to the swing.
How could she not with that swagger? She felt her cheeks warm.
“You could get hurt that way,” he told her.
She took another step back from the swing. “I didn’t expect you yet.” She wasn’t sure he’d even come.
“I’ve been here since six thirty. I didn’t want to miss you.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You look happy to see me.”
And she thought leaving the house before nine was pushing it, especially when she didn’t expect him to be there until ten, if at all.
Roger caressed an invisible hair back away from her temple and cheek. Her skin tingled under his touch. He could still captivate her with his mystical gray eyes. Neither one of them moved, caught in the spell of the fog. What was he thinking? Was he as rattled as he made her feel? Where did they go from here? What was the next step? He hadn’t said if he was staying around; she only assumed. What if there wasn’t a next step? If his gaze was any indicator, there would not only be a next step but a whole beautiful hike ahead of them. Underneath it all, though, lay the unanswered questions. She pushed them to the back of her mind.
“Higher!” RJ squealed.
Another spell broken.
Roger walked around in front of him and grabbed his feet, holding him suspended. The little boy giggled. Roger pulled him higher and let him go. Jackie pushed from the back. RJ swung back and forth between them. Was this a glimpse of RJ’s future, to be shuffled back and forth between his parents? No. She would do whatever it took to give RJ a stable home.
Roger grabbed his son by the feet again. RJ’s giggle seemed to be amplified in the fog. Roger let him loose. “Hey, Kiddo, you want to go for a ride on my motorcycle?”
“Cycoe!” Probably the only thing he would give up the swing for. RJ started climbing out even though he was still swinging. Jackie’s heart froze between beats. She grabbed for the swing, but it slipped from her hands.
Roger reached out his arms and latched them around RJ and the swing, catching him safely. “He’s quite a daredevil.”
“Like his father?”
He gave her a roguish smile. Maybe that was what drew her to him, that aura of danger and mystery.
Roger lifted RJ out of the swing and walked back the way he’d come. Jackie followed with the stroller and the diaper bag. The Harley took shape in the fog. Roger set RJ on it and slipped a child’s helmet on him.
“You aren’t really taking him for a ride?”
“Sure.” He strapped the helmet under RJ’s chin and made sure it was snug.
“Can he hold on well enough?” she asked nervously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“He’ll be safe. I won’t go fast.” He pulled another helmet off the back of the bike and stepped up to her. Jackie shook her head. She knew how intoxicating a ride on the back of his Harley
was. She had to resist. He placed it in the seat of the stroller. Then he fitted his own helmet on, swung onto the bike behind RJ, and kicked it to life.
“Roger.”
He smiled at her. “We won’t be gone long.” He checked the street and rolled forward.
A cold hand gripped Jackie’s chest as she watched them disappear into the mist. Was this what Roger’s return was all about? Had he come back to take RJ? Her parents were right; what did she know about him? The rumble of his Harley faded in the distance. Jackie’s heart struggled to beat. What if I never see either one of them again? Lord, bring them back to me.
Minutes later, she swung around at a faint roar from up the street behind her. They came out of the fog just as they had disappeared into it, like a dream coming into focus.
Roger rolled to a stop. “Hop on.”
Jackie inclined her head toward the diaper bag and stroller as her heart beat again and she could draw in a breath. “I think one ride is enough.”
Roger killed the engine and put down the kickstand. He patted RJ’s helmet. “Now don’t ride off without me.”
“I driving.” Her son beamed at her.
Roger took the diaper bag and hung it on her shoulder and looped the helmet strap over her hand. Then he folded the umbrella stroller like an expert. Had he been practicing? He slipped the lower wheels into one of his black leather saddlebags. She knew it would never stay, hanging out like that. But he strapped it to the tail bar with a bungee cord, then came back for the diaper bag and stuffed it in the saddlebag around the wheels. When he turned back to her, his expression seemed to say, Come on—you have no excuse now. He held a hand out to her. “You haven’t lost your sense of adventure, have you?”
That she was here at all with him proved she hadn’t. The word trust popped into her thoughts. But how? she wondered. How could she trust a man who had hurt her so? Uncertain, she took his hand anyway. Again the allure of danger and the unknown drew her. Jackie climbed on the back, and Roger squeezed in behind RJ.
RJ looked around his father’s leather-clad arm. “I drive.” Roger’s laugh blended with the roar of the bike as he started it. Then they rolled forward into the fog and disappeared, as if they were stepping through a curtain into another world, an unexplored world shrouded in mystery and clouds.
❧
The concern on Jackie’s face as he left with RJ had wrenched Roger’s insides, and the relief wasn’t any better when he returned. But he had to do it—take their son out of her sight and return with him. It was a small step toward her trusting him. He had brought her son back to her.
If RJ hadn’t been riding with them, Roger would have driven a little recklessly so that Jackie would hold on to him as she used to. As it was, he could barely sense her hands on his waist, and that was only when they turned corners; otherwise she rested them on her thighs.
It was easy to forget his trouble and believe that what was happening now was his whole life. Indeed this was the life he longed for—and he would trust God and work until he had it and for more than one day. The sun, as if confirming his resolve, cut through the fog and shone down warm on them.
Five
Roger drove them to the other side of town to a park with child-sized amusement rides. The rides were ancient but well maintained. After the loop on the train and the airplane ride, RJ wanted to ride the “horsy.”
Jackie and RJ clambered onto the carousel platform. Her son picked out a red horse as she knew he would. Roger lifted him onto the seat.
“I driving,” RJ said with a big smile.
“Hold on tight,” Roger told his son, then stepped off the platform.
“Aren’t you coming?” Jackie asked.
“When I was a kid, I ate too much junk before riding one of these. I got pretty sick. My mom tried to warn me.” He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “I haven’t liked them ever since. I’ll watch from over there.”
An old excitement welled up inside her of going round and round, each time anticipating and catching a glimpse of her parents. The old-fashioned music started, and the carousel lurched forward. They were off.
She had one hand around RJ’s waist and the other on the pole holding the horse. “Wave to Daddy.”
RJ took one hand off the pole, barely waved, and latched back on. Roger waved back.
She turned to keep Roger in her sight. His smile broadened. They were like a regular family on their weekly outing. The only thing missing was a camera in Roger’s hand. Why hadn’t she thought to bring hers?
As the carousel turned, getting closer to the point where she would briefly lose sight of Roger, something akin to panic welled up in her. That’s how it always was in the movies: Someone disappeared, or a menacing face in the crowd would appear then be gone; but the person on the ride knew the danger still lurked out there someplace.
This was ridiculous! Roger would be there. She didn’t have to worry. And there he was, right where she had left him. She let out her breath.
“I driving!” RJ shouted to his father as they passed him.
She didn’t feel the unexpected and unwelcome fear she had the first time around, but her stomach still tightened when she lost sight of Roger again. Each time they rode around, her stomach knotted, then relaxed when he came into view. She couldn’t help it. She tried breathing and talking to RJ. Nothing helped, even though Roger was there every time. She couldn’t wait for the ride to be over. The earlier awe and excitement she’d felt when she boarded was gone. She knew at exactly what point the sleeve of Roger’s jacket would come into her sight. And there it was. Round and round. How long was this ride going to last?
There—the point where Roger was out of her sight. She swung her head around, and the point where he came back into view was right about—now. She stared. The space he had occupied was empty. She noticed a man with a camera and curly, brown hair a few feet behind where Roger had been, but no Roger. She scanned the people milling about. Where was he? She wanted off. Now!
She looked to the ride operator to catch his eye. She glimpsed him and the man talking to him. Roger! He was chatting with the ride operator.
Finally, the ride began to slow but made another full turn before stopping. She and RJ were on the opposite side from Roger and the operator. Her hands shook as she lifted RJ down. It was stupid to get so worked up over nothing.
Roger met them and took RJ from her arms. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. I guess the carousel isn’t what it used to be.”
He nodded.
After another ride in a little race car on a track shaped like a kidney bean, they set out on the path that circled Little Lake Washington. It was a medium-sized pond that was said to be similar in form to its namesake only on a much smaller scale.
RJ zigzagged across the path ahead of them, looking at rocks and leaves, anything and everything that piqued his interest. Roger cupped his hand around hers. It was a natural action. His warm, strong hand felt so familiar. She tried not to react to his touch either way, as if she hadn’t even noticed. But inside, the heat from his hand raced up her arm and spread a warmth through her body.
RJ ran back to her and gave her a rock.
“Ooh, how pretty.”
He ran off and brought one back for Roger.
“Thanks.”
RJ took off again and stumbled, landing in the dirt. She went to him immediately. He wrangled himself back to his feet and held out his dusty hands to her with tears in his big, gray eyes. Roger’s eyes. She gently brushed off each hand.
“Is he okay?” Roger hunkered down beside her.
“He’s fine. Not even a scratch.” She spoke as much to console RJ as to answer Roger. “All better.”
RJ held one dirty hand out to her. “Kiss.”
She planted about seven kisses on his tiny palm. “Better?”
He nodded and held out his other hand. She smooched it too. “All better.”
“What does a grown-up boy ha
ve to do to get that kind of attention?”
Stay with us and never leave. She tried to block out his sultry voice and close proximity, but it wasn’t easy when she could feel his breath on her cheek.
She sent RJ back to exploring and continued along the path around the pond.
Roger took her hand again. “You didn’t answer my question.” There was a playful tone to his words.
She thought it was a rhetorical question. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. That is if you’ll be around.” She couldn’t help saying it. He needed to remember that everything was not normal. Or maybe she did.
“I’ll be around. I promise.”
His declaration was surprisingly comforting. But how could it be when he had told her nothing? Was it the Lord granting her comfort? If Roger was going to stick around—and that “if” was a big one in her mind—then perhaps they would have a chance at recovery.
RJ ran back and pulled their hands apart. Squeezing between them, he situated one of his small hands in each of theirs, then tugged on their arms, lifting his feet off the ground and swinging between them.
Roger wasn’t expecting it as Jackie had been and was thrown slightly off balance.
After several minutes of swinging RJ, Jackie’s arm was tired. “Okay, time to walk on your own,” she said. She made sure his feet were on the ground before she let go of his hand.
RJ released Roger’s hand and held up his chubby arms to his mother. “Up.”
“Mommy’s arms need to rest.” She rubbed her shoulder.
“Up!” RJ jumped up and down.
Roger grabbed him from behind and hoisted him onto his strong, broad shoulders. RJ screeched as he sailed up to his perch, then smiled.
“How’s that?” Roger asked once he had his son settled. RJ giggled.
Jackie thought RJ would want down so she could hold and comfort him. Instead the boy looked as though he’d always ridden on his father’s shoulders. “He’s tired and hungry. We should probably be going.”
“We can grab a bite here and find a shady spot for him to rest. Unless you have other plans this afternoon.”
