Love Is Patient

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “No.” Vanessa plunked her purse down and muttered, “He keeps earthquake supplies in his truck and car.” She gave her sister a daffy look. “To top it all off, we cruised all day and didn’t see a single whale.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Jeff was so disappointed.”

  The music started, so their conversation ended abruptly. Vanessa stared at the back of the pew in front of her and let out a silent sigh. She’d struggled to get Jeff ready, lunches made, and the two of them to school on time; Nathan did it every single school day, and he managed it quite well. He operated on a smooth, near-perfect level, and she could be the poster girl for Insecurities Anonymous—well, she would be if they had anything more than a friendship. But we don’t. We’re just pals. That realization flooded her with an odd sense of relief. Yeah. It’s good Nathan is so good at handling things on his own. Sure it is. It works out well for him and Jeff.

  She continued to think of them until Kip slid into the pew and somehow managed to bump Val over so he sat between them. Once the service got underway, Pastor MacIntosh made announcements. After he mentioned one particular upcoming activity, Vanessa and Valene both leaned forward to make eye contact and exchanged a meaningful look.

  ❧

  “He’d have such a good time.”

  Nathan stared out of the dugout, not wanting to look at Vanessa’s pleading face. Kip sent a ball sailing into center field and made it to second base while folks cheered. Nathan hoped Van would get involved in the game and drop the subject.

  “I’m working, but you can go with him, Nathan. If you’re already busy, plenty of the parents are going, and they’d keep close watch on Jeff.”

  He didn’t respond.

  The shortstop caught a fly, and Kip got tagged out on third. Nathan bolted off the bench, eager to get out on the field, away from the conversation.

  Vanessa halted him. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I promised I wouldn’t invite you to church—I didn’t stop to think you’d consider a primary department outing would fall under that heading. I knew Jeff would enjoy going to the tide pools, and well—” She let out a gusty sigh. “I understand. It’s with the church’s primary department. I can see now it was a mistake for me to say anything.”

  Tears glossed her eyes. Nathan drew in a quick breath. Part of him caved in; the other part rebelled. She wasn’t just a do-gooder, trying to involve his son in church—she really cared about Jeff. But I’m not getting sucked into all of this church stuff.

  “I really blew it, didn’t I?”

  “Vanessa, let’s just drop it for now and play ball.”

  “All right.” She paused and added, “I’ll drop it.” As he began to walk off, he heard her mutter, “For now.”

  In the last inning, Nathan channeled all of his churning emotions into his swing. His grand slam bought the Altar Egos’s triumph. As he ran the bases and touched home plate, the team and crowd went wild. Only he knew deep inside, the last thing he felt was victorious.

  ❧

  Saturday, after the puppy kindergarten class, Nathan curled his hand around Vanessa’s arm. Shock jolted through her at the intensity of his gaze.

  “Can you give me a minute?”

  “Um, yeah. Sure. What is it, Nathan?”

  “Saturday mornings aren’t working out well for me.” He let go of her. “The next few weeks will be impossible. Can you work with Jeff and me on training Lick on a catch-as-catch-can basis?”

  A sick feeling churned in her stomach. She’d pressured him about the tide-pool trip for Jeff, and this seemed like a polite version of “So long, see ya later.”

  Lord, I’m so sorry. I need to learn to be patient. I acted in haste, and I’ve pushed him away from You.

  Nathan tugged on Lick’s leash to pull him back from sniffing at a patch of grass. Nathan kept his gaze trained downward. “Jeff really wants to go to the tide pools next Saturday. I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “He’ll love it! Be sure to take your camera and get pictures.”

  Nathan looked up, and the sparkle in his eye warmed her heart. He wasn’t trying to bail out or to mollify her—she could see that he really wanted to go.

  “It’s been so long since I dug out the camera. Evie always took snapshots. I just haven’t had the heart. When you took your camera whale watching, I got an attack of the guilts.”

  When he mentioned his wife, the sparkle in his eyes dimmed, and it made Vanessa want to comfort him. She sensed he’d not welcome anything overt, so instead, she went for simple reassurance. “Not that I got any great photos, anyway. We didn’t see a single whale.”

  Nathan shrugged. “Since he didn’t get to see any whales, I thought you were right—he ought to get a chance to see sea creatures somehow.”

  Vanessa nodded. If she said something right now, she’d probably make an utter fool of herself, either hugging him or blubbering for joy.

  “It’s not just next Saturday. If it were a matter of missing a single class, we’d probably be able to catch on and catch up. It’s more complicated than that. The following Saturday, I’ll be out of town, and the week after, I have an appointment with a client. Lick’s just too knot-headed for me to believe we can miss three sessions in a row and train him to be obedient.”

  “I’m sure we can work out a few private training sessions.”

  “Great. If we can get him to behave, I’ll be a happy camper. I don’t expect him to ever be a model citizen like Amber.”

  “When we’re through with him, he will be. It just takes patience. With patience, you can do just about anything.”

  ❧

  Late that evening, Vanessa pulled a diskette out of her computer. Lord, I just wanna say something here. I know I told Nathan all it took was patience to get things done. I did qualify it with a ‘just about.’ Well, I’ve been trying to make the accounts balance, and they won’t. I can’t. This doesn’t just take patience—it’s going to take a miracle!

  She grimaced at the memory of her sage words, then turned that grimace toward the shoebox full of receipts. Practice—she practiced plenty of things, but patience wasn’t one of them. That commodity just hit an all-time low.

  In sheer desperation, she filled a bag with gourmet doggy treats and hit the road. She tromped into Val’s condo and cried, “I’m throwing myself on your mercy. I even brought bribes for Hero.”

  “It’s the end of the month.” Val arched a brow. “Let me guess: You can’t get the books to balance.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Hero will be happy to have the treats. I, on the other hand, refuse to be bribed.”

  “Val, come on. I’m dying here.”

  “So am I. Here’s the deal: You give Hero the rest of his puppy shots. I can’t stand to do it myself, and Dr. Bainbridge’s office is only open during the hours I work.”

  “I’m more than willing to do that. You’ve got a deal.” Vanessa poured herself a cup of tea. “Then again, I would have been willing to do it for you anyway.”

  Val laughed. “I know. Just like I would have straightened out your record keeping for you anyway.”

  While Val clicked around on the computer and resolved all the quirks and misfiled information on Vanessa’s ledger, Van dug through the cabinets and found a vase.

  “What’re you up to now?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to me. Just crunch the numbers.” Vanessa pulled a variety of silk flowers from her athletic bag and put together an arrangement for Val’s living room.

  “All done,” Val said.

  “Me too. Take a look.”

  Val walked into the living room, and her face lit up. “That’s perfect! I don’t know how you do that kind of stuff. Arts and crafts are my waterloo.”

  “Yeah, well, you got the smarts; I got the crafts. Believe me, if I had to pick, I would have taken the brains.”

  “You do have brains,” Val protested. She then grimaced. “But I’m worried you’re not using t
hem. We need to have a talk.”

  “Now what did I do?” Van turned sideways on the couch and watched as her twin searched for the right words. Uh-oh. Whatever this is, it’s a biggie. . . .

  Val paced across the floor and turned back. “I think you need to draw a definite line with Nathan.”

  “Draw a line?”

  “He’s not a believer. Well, he is, but he’s not living his faith. He’s bitter toward the Lord, and that’s not the kind of man you ought to be dating.”

  Vanessa snorted. “Dating? You’ve gotta be kidding me. We have his son and two dogs everywhere we go. It’s nothing romantic at all.”

  “Just because it starts off innocently doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.” Valene sat down and curled her hand around Vanessa’s wrist. “You’d be wise to spend less time with him and more time with a man who is practicing a strong daily walk with Christ.”

  “We’re not dating, Val, and Nathan will eventually restore his relationship with the Lord. Christ didn’t turn his back on those who strayed. He said as a shepherd He’d search for every lost lamb. If all I ever do is hang out with Christians who have no doubts or questions, who’s going to reach out to those who are out of relationship or hurting? That wouldn’t be living my faith.”

  “You have a point, but I’m trying to make you see the difference between being casual friends and losing your heart. Nathan is handsome, well-to-do, and kind.”

  “I have several guy friends who are handsome or well-off, and they’re all good-hearted. They’re just friends.”

  “But how many of them would have called you at four in the morning to pinch-hit for their kid’s field trip. Why did Nathan call you?”

  “Let’s see. For starters, my other friends don’t have kids. As for Nathan, it was a Monday. Most people work on Mondays, but it’s my day off. Nathan knows I love the ocean. Jeff and I are buddies. Besides—it’s good for Amber to go on all different modes of transportation, and she hadn’t been on a boat yet.”

  Val gave her an I’m-not-buying-your-story look.

  “Get this: One of the kids came up to us and asked Jeff, ‘Is she your dad’s girlfriend?’ and I said, ‘Nope. Amber is my dog, not his.’ See? I made it clear I’m not romantically entangled.”

  Val laid her head on the back of the couch and groaned. “Why did I have to be right? I just told you, you have brains, but you’re not using them. This is going to be a disaster.”

  “Let’s see.” Vanessa ticked off points on her hand. “Jeff learned a lesson about integrity. I sold a dog. I’m even earning money on training.” She wiggled those three fingers in the air. “If that isn’t enough, look at the more important issues: Nathan is now playing ball with the church team, and he’s renewed his friendship with Kip. Jeff is going to the tide pools with the primary department—and Nathan is taking him!”

  All five fingers stuck up in the air. She then tightened them together to form a scoop, turned her hand palm up, and lifted it toward heaven. “It’s really not in my hands at all, Val. It’s in God’s.”

  Thirteen

  Once or twice a week, Nathan managed to find a time slot that Vanessa had free. They met at the park across from her shop and worked with Lick’s training. Sometimes Jeff stayed at home with Consuelo. Other times he was at a birthday party or at a friend’s house. About half the time, he came along and enjoyed learning too.

  Nathan liked how Van paid attention to Jeff and never acted like he was a tagalong. The two of them often traded silly jokes and romped, yet she still earned and held his respect.

  If they did puppy training in his backyard, she made a habit of bringing a snack of some variety and insisting that they all wedge into the fort to share it. Having deduced that he was all thumbs in the kitchen, she frequently managed to bring something she’d baked—cream puffs, cookies shaped like dog biscuits, apple tarts, or cupcakes with cherries made of gumdrops decorating the top.

  Two adults, one wiggly boy, and two puppies in the fort’s tight space always turned out to be the highlight of the day—and not because of the food. Nathan could sit close to Vanessa, relish her sunny laugh, try to determine what odd combination of fragrances she’d put together, and swipe a nibble from her fingertips.

  Whenever he and Vanessa met without Jeff, Nathan tried to find ways to prolong their time together. They’d eaten at several fast-food places that featured outdoor picnic tables so the dogs wouldn’t have to be left in the car—something neither he nor Vanessa would consider. It didn’t exactly qualify as the most romantic way to edge into a relationship, but he didn’t care. Just being with Vanessa made his day.

  One hitch bothered him. When they ate, she prayed. He knew the Lord was an integral part of her life. She’d mention things about a program at church or occasionally quote something he knew came from Psalms or Proverbs. If anything, he sensed she made a concerted effort not to swamp him with religious stuff.

  He appreciated her restraint. It made him uncomfortable when folks got all churchy around him. Nathan knew it was guilt. He flatly refused to explore that emotion. God took Evie away. How could God ask for a man’s soul when He robbed him of his heart?

  Over time, he’d begun to feel less awkward when Vanessa would say a simple, quick grace. He’d turned down a few invitations to church by a couple of the guys on the team until Vanessa had grabbed the bull by the horns. After practice one evening, she’d faced the whole team and announced, “Nathan knows he has a standing invitation to church. I promised him I wouldn’t wheedle or plot so he’d get roped into attending. When he’s ready, he’ll come. Until then, let’s leave it be.” Integrity. She had it in spades.

  What kind of man was he, to want to court a woman who walked so closely with the Lord? He knew all about being in step with the Lord. He’d been that way once upon a time, and he’d willingly worn the mantle of the spiritual head of his home with an awareness of its responsibilities and blessings. His marriage with Evie blossomed under God’s grace and leading—until Evie died, when simple faith suddenly wasn’t enough. Vanessa deserved a man of faith. But I can’t let her go. What kind of man does that make me?

  ❧

  “Dad, that was so much fun! Can we go again? Please?”

  Nathan looked down at Jeff’s sun-kissed cheeks and silently agreed. They’d had a terrific day down at the tide pools. The group got there just as the tide went out, and the pocked rock formations held countless wonders. Children darted from one pool to the next, shrieking with joy. They’d squat next to a little hollowed-out retreat and point at darting, tiny fish or touch limpets. Yeah, I could go for a day like that again. It was relaxing, fun. . . .

  “Please, Dad. I wanna go back there.”

  “I had a great time too. Maybe we could do it again. What would you think about taking Vanessa and Amber with us?”

  “That’d be super-duper! Let’s go tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, Sport.” He lifted the blankets, and Jeff tumbled into bed. Covering his son, Nathan said, “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Van works in the afternoon after she goes to church. The animals have to be fed and watered.”

  “But we could go in the morning!”

  Nathan shook his head. “Van goes to church.”

  “Dad? Why don’t we go to church? I gots lots of friends who go to Van’s church. We’re all good buddies.”

  “Church isn’t just supposed to be about who you go to see.”

  “Then what is it about? I know!” Jeff popped up and gave Nathan an earnest look. “It’s ’bout God and Jesus and stuff—like in the songs the kids were singing today, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan tucked him back in, ruffled his hair, and kissed his forehead. “Enough talk. Go to sleep.” Before Jeff could pursue the conversation, he left the room.

  ❧

  “I’m going for the fives.” Dad set aside two of the dice and dropped the other three back in the cup. They made a hollow, rattling sound before he dumped them out again. They tumbled across the flower-patterned vinyl
tablecloth and came to rest a few inches past a small crease that acted as a speed bump.

  Vanessa leaned back in the molded plastic patio chair and relished the night breeze off the sea. It rustled through the mulberry tree in the corner of the backyard. She laughed. “Remember that year Val and I did the silk project?”

  “Fourth grade,” her mother recalled. “Those silkworms you raised were disgusting.”

  “Now I thought they were interesting, Mom.” Dad set aside another five and plunked the last two dice into his cup. “The teacher said our Van was the only kid she ever had who actually kept them alive and spinning.”

  “Because we had the mulberry leaves. It wasn’t hard at all—I just picked a few leaves and dumped them in each morning. We got a good grade on the project because of Val. She wrote a great paper to go along with it.”

  “And your illustrations were amazing,” Mom added.

  Dad sent the dice across the table and bellowed gleefully, “Yahtzee!”

  “Can you believe that? The last roll of the game, and Dad gets a Yahtzee!”

  As they put away the game, Mom asked, “What made you think of the silkworms?”

  “The mulberry tree.”

  Dad took another sip of his tea. “It’s a good source of shade, but the berries sure make a mess. Every year, I say something about taking it out and putting in something that won’t be such a hassle, but Mom won’t let me.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s sentimental. You used to hold your animal hospitals under it.”

  Vanessa grinned at the memory. “It’s amazing you didn’t go broke, buying me gauze and tape for all of those bandages I made.”

  “What’s amazing is, all of those animals just sat there and let you mummy wrap them!” Mom laughed. “Dad’s just as sentimental as I am. He sticks nails into the ground by the hydrangea so the flower petals will turn pretty colors. Remem-ber how you and Val used to play “Wedding” and use those poufy flower balls as your bridal bouquets?”

  “And the yellow chenille pipe cleaner rings!” Vanessa looked over at the hydrangea, then back at her parents. “We had a storybook childhood.”