In His Eyes

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “I might go into town, too. I’m hoping the coast guard brought in some emergency groceries. We’re low on milk, and we should pick up some cereal. When the cold snap breaks, we often lose power.”

  “Thanks for cheering me up.” She filled a cup, then looked at the last heel in the bread bag. “Add bread to that list.”

  She found an English muffin in the refrigerator and popped it into the toaster, then sat at the table.

  Silence hovered over them, each seeming to avoid the other.

  Connor stirred. “I’m sorry about yesterday when I grabbed you. It seemed so natural. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I know.”

  The conversation died as quickly as it had come alive.

  Ellene felt uneasy in the silence. “I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. You look terrible.”

  “It wasn’t the sofa. I’m okay.”

  She heard the toaster pop and rose to butter her muffin, knowing it wasn’t okay. She would insist she sleep on the sofa tonight, but not now. Maybe God would surprise her with an open channel today, despite the weather forecast, and she could go home.

  “Can’t sleep on that bed.” Aunt Phyllis’s voice sailed from Connor’s bedroom. “I get the sofa. No arguments.”

  Connor looked at Ellene and grinned. She couldn’t help but laugh. Without knowing it, Aunt Phyllis had settled the matter.

  “We’re going into town, Aunt Phyllis, do you need anything?”

  Her face brightened as she looked from Ellene to Connor. “You two are going to town?”

  “I have to pick up a few things,” Ellene said, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but she was tired of wearing the woman’s ill-fitting clothing.

  “Groceries,” Connor said, almost at the same time Ellene responded.

  “Have fun,” she said, a wry look curving her lips.

  Ellene went upstairs to put herself together with the little makeup she’d carried in her purse. She was weary of washing out her underwear each night and putting it on damp in the morning. The outside chill seemed to penetrate the walls in the bedroom upstairs, and she didn’t want to leave her garments hanging downstairs in the bathroom.

  When she’d dressed and come down, Connor was standing by the door wearing his jacket. He seemed to be in a hurry, and Ellene wondered why.

  “I’ll be ready in a minute. I need to find my shoes.”

  When she bent to look beneath the sofa for them, Caitlin’s voice penetrated the silence.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To town,” Connor said. “We’ll be back soon.”

  “I want to go,” she said, darting back up the stairs.

  Connor looked exasperated, and Ellene realized that he might have hoped to be alone with her. She’d sensed he had things on his mind since the snowball incident. He gave her an irritated look.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I can’t go without my shoes.”

  While she slipped them on, Caitlin came sailing back down the stairs, dressed in a mismatched getup that made Ellene chuckle.

  Connor shook his head. “She could use a few lessons in coordinating color and print.” He glanced down at his knit shirt and jeans. “I’m afraid she has my taste in clothing.”

  Ellene had never noticed Connor’s lack of taste, but then maybe his mother had helped him choose his attire when they were teens.

  At the car, Caitlin wanted to join them in the front seat, and to end the problem, Ellene volunteered to ride in back.

  “I want to sit with you,” Caitlin said, the admiration in her eyes so evident.

  Ellene heard Connor’s sigh and figured that was what he’d wanted to talk about with her when they were alone. She gave Connor a questioning look, and he only shrugged, so she and Caitlin climbed into the back as if Connor were their chauffeur.

  “We’re off, James,” she said once she had Caitlin buckled into the seat and had hooked her own.

  He observed her through the rearview mirror without a response.

  In town, Ellene suggested Connor drop her at a clothing store. He parked, and to her surprise, they all climbed out. “You want to go shopping with me?”

  “I want to,” Caitlin said.

  Connor didn’t respond.

  Ellene gazed at the stores and saw the Riverfront Shop with ladies’ clothing displayed in the windows.

  Connor touched her arm and pointed.

  Across the street, she saw another store, Country Scenes, Ltd. At least she had choices.

  Connor opened the door to the Riverfront Shop, and Ellene stepped inside with Caitlin on her heels. He stood close to the door while she wandered through the shop, eyeing the prices and wondering if she could deduct her garments as a business expense.

  “I like this,” Caitlin said, pulling out a pink sweatshirt with a sad dog on the front and letters beneath which read, No Bone To Pick. She grinned, but pink wasn’t her color, and she moved along. Caitlin stayed by the garment for a moment as if willing her to buy it, but she decided she wasn’t going to spoil the child by pleasing her every whim.

  She checked out a row of knit tops with long sleeves, then checked the slacks. She’d worn her black pair until they were pitiful. She selected a couple of pairs, gathered the other items and headed toward the dressing room.

  Before she could close the louvered doors, Caitlin had joined her, watching with big eyes. Ellene slipped on the navy slacks. She could use a new pair. They fit except for the length, and she assumed Connor’s aunt had a needle and thread.

  Then she studied the tops, a burgundy one with navy edging and one she noticed Caitlin eyeing, a navy-and-pink stripe.

  “I like this one,” Caitlin said, fingering the fabric of the striped top.

  The child loved pink, and Caitlin slipped it over her head, watching the child’s observant face change to a grin. “You look beautiful.”

  Ellene’s heart skipped, and she stooped to hug the little girl. Beautiful. She doubted if anyone had called her that before. “Thank you, Caitlin. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said.”

  The child’s grin grew. “Are you going to buy it?”

  “I have to, don’t I? Who could pass up something that makes her beautiful?”

  She redressed and headed for the checkout counter, but as she did, she noticed a display of children’s sweatshirts. She paused, checking out the pink ones. Caitlin adhered to her side, not saying anything, but Ellene knew the child’s silent wish. She spotted one with a puppy on the front. Everyone Loves Me it said beneath the fluffy dog.

  Ellene waved toward Connor, and he stepped closer. “Does she wear a six?”

  He nodded. “But you don’t have to—”

  “I want to,” she said.

  He gave a one-shoulder shrug and returned to the exit.

  After selecting Caitlin’s shirt, she strode toward the checkout but paused when she spotted the rack where Caitlin had admired the sweatshirt for her. She found her size and pulled it from the hanger. Could it hurt to spoil the child a little? What was wrong with agreeing and buying herself a shirt?

  Ellene held up the two shirts. “Now we’ll be twins,” she said, watching Caitlin’s smile glow brighter than the sun on the snow.

  After picking up a few smaller items, the clerk rang up her bill, and Ellene paid with a credit card. She’d found most of what she needed.

  “You’re spoiling her,” Connor whispered as they left the shop.

  “Girls are meant to be spoiled.”

  “Really,” he said and gave her a look that sent her pulse on a trot. “I’ll keep that in mind.

  Connor spread out on the sofa, watching Ellene at her computer wearing the pink sweatshirt with the dog on the front she’d bought while shopping on Tuesday.

  Ellene had wended her way into Caitlin’s heart, and Connor didn’t know what to do about it. It seemed too late now to stop it. The hurt would happen when Ellene trotted home without looking back.

  He knew Ellene had a soft heart. Buying the sweatshir
t was an example, but in another moment, he had watched her back stiffen and her tone change from the normal woman he knew to the business woman he’d recently come to know. He didn’t like the bumpy ride.

  Two more days had passed, and now, Thursday, they’d been holed up for five days. Today, as usual, Caitlin sat close to Ellene, wearing her pink shirt. She shifted between working at her drawings and watching Ellene beside her. The vision seared into Connor’s brain. Good or bad? He feared for his daughter’s happiness.

  “Caitlin, it’s time for bed,” Connor said.

  She gave him an unhappy look, but folded the cover of her drawing book and slid from the chair. She headed toward him with an argument in her eyes. “But Daddy—”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “You had a fun day. We played games, and now we all need to rest. We’ll have more fun tomorrow.”

  She leaned against him, tucking her head against his chest while her gaze settled on Ellene. “But I don’t want to go to bed alone.”

  Ellene looked up, but before she could react, Aunt Phyllis offered a solution. “I’ll go up and lie down with you, Caitlin. I’m tired tonight.”

  From her look, Connor knew that wasn’t the result Caitlin wanted, but she had enough good sense to accept the offer. She headed for the stairs with Pepper bounding at her heels. Aunt Phyllis gave Connor a knowing smile and joined them on the stairs.

  Relief washed over Connor. He’d longed for time to talk with Ellene alone, and the time had never seemed to happen. He’d thought on Tuesday when they’d gone shopping he might have a minute to discuss a few things, but Caitlin had put an end to that.

  Ellene refocused on the computer, but as their footsteps faded up the stairs, she stopped and rubbed her eyes.

  “How about taking a break?” he asked, hoisting himself to a sitting position.

  She massaged the back of her neck. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m having a difficult time concentrating.”

  So was he.

  Connor eyed the TV remote, but hesitated when he saw her snap the lid closed on the computer. He felt hopeful, realizing she had decided to stop working for the evening.

  After listening to Aunt Phyllis’s Bible verses for the past three days they’d spent under the same roof, they’d begun to sink in. He’d gone to Sunday school as a child, but in his teen years, he’d slipped away from church, and his faith had become as dormant as his morals.

  When he thought about that recently, he guessed that trying to explain his moral failures was easier when he didn’t profess his love for the Lord. But truth didn’t hide for long, and he was pleased that his aunt’s influence had nurtured Caitlin. He’d heard her singing a child’s hymn that Aunt Phyllis must have taught her.

  He’d wanted to tell Ellene that, in part, his failure to fight for her love had been based on his failure as a Christian. But that was the easy answer. It had been more complex.

  When he looked up, Ellene still sat by the closed computer until she finally rose and ambled across the room, a mixture of beauty and comedy in his aunt’s huge fuzzy slippers.

  Ellene must have noticed him looking. She plopped into the chair nearby and lifted one foot. “I know. I look like a clown.”

  “But a lovely one,” he said. Watching the expression on her face, he wished he hadn’t been so candid.

  They sat in silence, dealing with their own thoughts. Her eyes lifted for a moment, then lowered to her lap.

  “Caitlin is smitten,” he said.

  It took her a minute to lift her head. “I know. I’m concerned.”

  “So am I, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Neither do I.” She rubbed her temple. “I didn’t ask to be stranded here, Connor. My intention was to see the cottage, make my notes and leave.”

  “I know.” Yet he wanted to ask if she hadn’t found some warm moments here. “You’ve handled this very well.”

  “I had little choice,” she said.

  Her gaze caught his, and he saw her gaze dart away then return. “I don’t mean it hasn’t been nice at times.”

  He felt as if the floor dropped from beneath his feet and took his breath away.

  “Caitlin is a joy, and your aunt has given me some good laughs and some spiritual wisdom. She’s made me think.”

  “Is that why you pull away from me, Ellene? Because of spiritual wisdom?”

  She looked as if she didn’t understand.

  “I’ve changed. I’m more solid in my relationship with the Lord, but it was a long struggle. When I married Melissa, she and I agreed Caitlin should have a chance to know the Lord. We began attending church.” He drew in a deep breath, remembering. “I was on the verge of giving my life to Christ, but when Melissa died, so did my faith. How was I supposed to raise a child alone, a child I didn’t wan—” He caught himself. “A child I didn’t know how to care for like a mother would.”

  She drew back as if she’d put the ending on his cut-off sentence. “I’m sorry, Connor. Even Christians don’t always know why things happen.”

  “But I want to know about you. Is that why you distanced yourself from me, because you don’t think I have faith?”

  She looked surprised. “I suppose it’s instinctive to pull away. “It’s not easy to forget how much you hurt me.”

  “And you hurt me.” His stomach twisted as the words left his mouth.

  “I suppose I did.” Her eyes misted. “Let me be honest.” She paused, and he saw her swallow as if trying to control her emotions. “I had a great scenario planned, Connor.”

  Scenario? “What do you mean? What did you do, write a script?”

  “I thought I’d send you off, and you’d be angry. Then you’d think about us and our relationship, and you’d be devastated. You’d realize how much I meant to you, and you’d come back and plead with me to take you back, and—”

  “You what?” He lifted his hand as if trying to grasp her meaning. “I can’t believe this. Why did you send me away then? Why did you return the ring?”

  “Because I thought you’d come back and ask me to forgive you, and I would have.”

  Was he the one to be forgiven? His hand shook as he lowered it back to the sofa arm. “If you played that lightly with our relationship, Ellene, it was right for it to end. Marriage is for better or worse. No marriage is perfect. No relationship is perfect. It takes work.”

  She didn’t say a word but kept her head lowered.

  “Do you remember Aunt Phyllis going on the other day about how two are better than one? I don’t know how she worked it into the conversation, but she’s a born matchmaker, and she was reminding us, I think, that God meant people to be in twos.”

  “I remember. How could I forget?”

  “That verse has stuck with me. Two are better than one because when one falls the other picks him up, and when they go to bed, two will stay warmer than one.”

  She held up her hand. “I know, Connor, and if an enemy attacks them, two can defend themselves. ‘A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.’ I know that.”

  “Can you picture the strength of those cords? A man, a woman and God. That’s what we were lacking back then. You had faith. I didn’t.”

  Her expression changed from frustration to question.

  “Your parents always welcomed me into your home as a friend of yours. But once we were engaged, I always figured your father was disappointed that we had decided to get married.”

  A frown appeared, and she shook her head. “That’s not true.”

  “But I thought it was. Your father had always been kind to me. He was when I called about this job. He’s a man who lives by God’s commandments so he does the best he can not to judge, but he knows what the Bible says. A Christian man or woman should not consider marriage to someone who’s not a believer.”

  “You are a believer.”

  “A very weak one then. I’m stronger now, because of what I’ve gone through.”

  “Are you telling me that�
��s why you didn’t come back and try again?”

  How could he answer her question and not lie? “At the time, that was my biggest fear. The other problem was your dad owned a business. Mine was a blue-collar worker—dirty fingernails, grungy clothes. We didn’t have dinner parties and a house full of chattering relatives.”

  “That didn’t mean a thing. My dad owns a construction company. He learned from the ground up. Our family doesn’t judge others by where they work or how much money they have.”

  “But your father wanted the best for you, just like I want the best for Caitlin. The thought didn’t cross my mind until we became engaged. We were young and in love. When I started college, I realized the difference between the rich and the poor.”

  “So if I’d been poor, you would have loved me more?”

  “No. I couldn’t have loved you more.”

  She looked away as if disgusted with his response, but she hadn’t understood him. He’d loved her as much as any man could at his age, and that’s why he’d fallen apart when she gave him back the ring.

  Ellene had put on her business face again, but Connor wasn’t going to stop now. He deserved time for his unanswered questions. “What about you, Ellene? If you loved me so much, if you wanted us to be married, why did you play games with our relationship?”

  “It wasn’t a game. I was confused. I was young and was looking for a fairy-tale relationship. I didn’t want you to spend time with your buddies or tell me you had a club meeting on campus.”

  “That’s not realistic.”

  “I realize that now. Back then I was—”

  “Spoiled…like Caitlin.”

  He could tell she didn’t want to hear that by the look on her face, but it was true.

  “I was naive.”

  “You were spoiled.” They’d both been naive.

  Ellene’s eyes narrowed and she rose. “When I come out of the bathroom, I don’t want to lay eyes on you, Connor. Good night.”

  She spun around, marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Connor’s eyes rang with her dismissal. He sat there a moment, willing the door to open so they could finish what they’d started. As he stared at the barricade between them, his hope vanished and he felt empty. This wasn’t how he’d wanted the conversation to end.