by Beth Wiseman
“It was a good day.” Gideon swallowed hard and pushed away thoughts of intimacy between him and Ruth, even though his eyes kept drifting to her lips.
“Ya, it was a gut day.” She smiled.
“It’s easy to slip back into the dialect, ya?” Gideon’s eyes found her lips again. He forced himself to look away, kicking at the grass with one of his Nikes. “Do you ever think of coming back here to live?”
Ruth shrugged. “Sometimes. What about you?”
Gideon lowered his gaze, thought for a few seconds, then looked up at her. “Sometimes.”
Ruth had pulled her hair up in a ponytail again, but it was long enough for the breeze to blow strands across her face. She brushed the loose tresses away. He wished he could remove the band holding her hair, let it fall loose, and run his fingers through it. “How long will you be here?”
“I’m planning to stay for a week. We’ll have the reunion Saturday, then I fly out on Tuesday.”
Gideon nodded as he looked at the ground, then forced a smile. “I better go.” He paused as dread churned in his stomach. “I’m going to the house, to see what needs to be done to sell it. After you read the listing agreement, let me know what you think.”
He turned and walked back around to the driver’s side of the truck.
Ruth nodded as she chewed her bottom lip for a few seconds. “I should help you. With the house.”
She had planned to make that part of her recovery process while she was here—visiting their former home. But she wasn’t sure if it would be easier going alone or with Gideon. If she went alone, she was sure to melt in a puddle on the floor and stay there for hours crying. With Gideon, she’d at least try to corral her emotions.
Shaking his head, Gideon sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”
Ruth wasn’t sure if he didn’t want her to go with him or if he was just being kind. “I came here to see my family and friends, but I also need to face a few things while I’m here, and the house is one of them. It’s not fair for you to do the work alone. I should help.”
Gideon looped his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and rocked back on his heels once. “It might be easier on both of us if we do it together.”
“Maybe.” Ruth raised her eyes to his as she thought about their time together at the cemetery, the bond they still shared. She glanced over her shoulder. “I need to run in the house and let Esther know what I’m doing.”
Ruth returned a few minutes later. Her sister had been way too happy that she was spending more time with Gideon. She hoped Esther didn’t get her hopes up about them getting back together. There was just too much water under that bridge.
It was a quiet ride to the house. And that was okay. Gideon surely had the same apprehensions she had. What would it be like to see their furniture covered up, their possessions packed, and reminders of how they ran away? Gideon packed almost everything since he left two months after Ruth. Esther said it didn’t look like he’d taken much. Ruth understood. She left with very little too.
The yard was recently mowed, but the flowerbeds were barren of blooms and full of weeds. She recalled the plush greenery mixed with the colorful flowers she used to plant every spring.
Her heart pounded like a bass drum as she hesitated on the porch steps. Gideon unlocked the front door with a key he pulled from his pocket, and Ruth lifted a foot, heavy as lead, and stepped onto the porch.
As the door creaked open, Ruth prayed something positive would come from this visit, that somehow it would prove to be a part of their healing. The musty smell of mold hit her hard as she stepped across the threshold, her feet crunching on dried leaves that must have blown in through the broken window. Esther hadn’t mentioned a broken window, but her sister also said she hadn’t been to the house in almost a month. She meant to clean right before Ruth arrived, but Becky had gotten sick last week.
With no electricity, and the predictable spring rains, Ruth wasn’t surprised the mold was already starting.
Rays of sunshine streamed in through the windows, lighting up the living room where she and Gideon had played with Grace, held family devotions, and where she taught Grace how to knit. It seemed like another lifetime ago but was so familiar that Ruth wanted to go get a broom and begin cleaning. When she was done, she’d make supper for her family. But that life was gone. All that remained were memories of a shattered life that needed repairing as much as the house itself.
Gideon opened one of the windows and a breeze sailed through the room. Ruth followed suit and opened another window in the living room. They were delaying the inevitable.
Grace’s room.
Ruth suddenly wished she hadn’t come with Gideon. How silly she’d been to think she would be able to contain her emotions, whether Gideon was here or not. She made her way to the kitchen and ran her hand along the white counter, pulling back a thick layer of black dust. As she leaned against it, she eyed the table with six chairs and remembered how she and Gideon had wanted at least four children. God had seen fit to give them only one.
They were all here on borrowed time, but she never could have imagined when Grace was born that their time together would only be ten years. She and Gideon tried to have more children prior to Grace’s accident. The doctor said there was no reason they couldn’t conceive, but it never happened.
Gideon sidled up next to her, his hip brushing against hers as he leaned against the counter beside her. “We had a lot of good times here.”
Ruth nodded, overly aware of Gideon’s arm as he pressed it atop the counter behind her, bringing himself even closer to her. She wanted to latch on to his T-shirt, squeeze it in her hand, and bury her face in his chest. To have his arms around her, comforting her. But she didn’t move.
“It’s not as bad as I thought.” Gideon walked to the sink, leaned over, and lifted the window pane. “Although, I don’t really know what I thought. Please thank Esther for checking on the place.”
He sounded as lost as Ruth. “Esther felt bad that she hadn’t been by in a month, and I’m sure she didn’t know the window was broken. I’m surprised the guy who mows didn’t tell someone. Or maybe he didn’t notice. If we let the house air out overnight, we could start cleaning tomorrow.” She’d just committed herself to another visit.
Gideon nodded before he walked back into the living room. Their brown-and-white striped couch was covered with a sheet, and so was the rocking chair in the corner where Ruth had rocked Grace to sleep so many times. Boxes were stacked everywhere, and Ruth thought about how awful it must have been for Gideon, doing the task alone.
Gideon slowed as he looked left toward the door that led to their bedroom, then right at the staircase. After a few seconds, he moved to the left, inching open the closed bedroom door.
Taking tiny steps, she followed him into the room. She pictured the pastel wedding quilt in shades of blue, yellow, pink, and pale green that used to cover their bed and was now in one of the boxes that lined the walls. Her eyes drifted around the room as she eyed all that was strange and familiar, her feelings mixing into an emotion Ruth couldn’t define.
Gideon turned around to face her, a look in his eyes as if he might pull her onto the bed. He walked toward her instead, and as he neared, the expression she thought she recognized wasn’t sexual, but desperate and wild. His eyes watered.
“I’m so sorry for everything I did after Grace died, for everything I said, and”—he took in a deep breath—“and for everything I didn’t do. I wasn’t there for you at all.”
Ruth was already shaking her head. “No, Gideon. I was equally to blame for the way things went. I’ve wanted to apologize to you for years, for being the one who left first, who abandoned you. I just didn’t know how . . .” She waved a hand around the bedroom. “I left you with all of this to handle, along with your grief, and I’m sorry.”
Gideon’s bottom lip quivered. “As head of the household, it was my job to take care of you.”
Ruth lifted a hand to her ches
t, her heart thumping wildly. Her lip trembled as she fought the tears pooling in her eyes. Right now, Gideon seemed to need forgiveness and understanding more than she did. She wondered if he’d had any sort of counseling or a support group to lean on.
“I know we were raised that way, that the man is the head of the household. But, Gideon, our daughter died. We couldn’t take care of ourselves, much less each other.”
He pulled her into his arms, his beard brushing against her cheek as he held her face against his chest, shaking so hard his tears were turning to sobs.
After a while, he eased her away, cupped her cheeks, and gently wiped away her tears. Then he brushed strands of loose hair from her face, his hands on her cheeks, his mouth close enough to kiss her. Ruth longed for his touch, but just when she thought he might kiss her, he only pulled her to his chest again, his hand on the back of her neck. Ruth wrapped her arms around him, clutching the back of his T-shirt, both of them crying.
Gideon kissed Ruth on the top of her head, which only made her cry harder. And they hadn’t even been to Grace’s room yet.
CHAPTER 7
Gideon wasn’t sure how much more he could take today. Ruth’s flushed cheeks and tearstained face implied the same. But as they stood outside Grace’s room hand in hand, Gideon squeezed, hoping to give her the strength he hadn’t been able to five years ago or five minutes ago.
He looked at her, and she nodded. Gideon grasped the doorknob and inched the door open. The sun had begun its descent, and its light and warmth filled the room. Dust bunnies danced atop the late-afternoon sunrays that filled the room. Gideon fought tears again as he remembered boxing up his daughter’s things.
“I’m sorry you had to do this alone.” Ruth pulled away from him and looked around the room. A tear rolled down her cheek. As in the other rooms, the furniture was covered with sheets, and boxes were along the wall.
“It’s okay.” Maybe it was the one thing that he’d spared his wife from.
Gideon closed his eyes and pictured Grace’s room as it had been. Some of her clothes hung from hooks along the rack on the far side of the room. Her rocking chair with her favorite faceless doll was in the corner. The bedspread Ruth had sewn and surprised Grace with on her tenth birthday was sage green with an ivory lace ruffle that met the wood floor on three sides.
Gideon sat on the bed and hoped he could keep his emotions in check.
Ruth shuffled to the rack where Grace’s clothes used to be, then she circled the room, touching the sheet-covered dresser, moving to the rocking chair, running her hand over the white covering. Gideon couldn’t stop watching her every movement, and even with her back to him, he knew she was also remembering the way their daughter’s room had looked.
She turned to face him. “Sometimes I-I forget what she looks like.” She hung her head, shaking it. “What kind of mother would forget her child’s face?”
Gideon offered a weak smile. “I see her every time I look at you.”
Ruth’s eyes clung to his. “I see her when I look at you too.” She looked away. “Back then, it was just too hard.”
Gideon walked to where she was standing near the window. “And now?”
Ruth held his gaze. “I still see her when I look at you, in your eyes.”
“Maybe it’s the reflection of yourself you see.” He smiled a little, which was nice to see again after the emotional afternoon they’d had.
Ruth froze in time, longing to move forward and terrified of moving backward. “We were so messed up during that time.” She kept her eyes on his, aware of the vulnerability he’d shown today and not wanting him to fall backward either. “But time does have a way of helping people look at things differently. And now, when I see her in your eyes, I don’t want to run away. I want to embrace the good memories and make new ones.”
Gideon nodded. “I went to counseling for a while, and it helped. But I’ve always felt like I needed closure for two things. Asking you to forgive me and coming back here.”
Ruth was glad to hear that Gideon had gone to a therapist. Her support group had helped her survive those first months in Florida and steadied her when the grief became overwhelming. “Me too. And now, here we are, facing the last two things on our emotional bucket lists.”
He smiled as he stared out the window. “Do you remember when Grace was in her second year of school, and she carried a wounded bird into the classroom in her apron pocket?”
Ruth chuckled. “Yes. The bird got loose and all the students were screaming trying to catch it. I can still remember hearing about it for weeks later.”
They were quiet for a few moments, both seemingly lost in their memories.
Gideon cleared his throat. “I was thinking we’d sell the house with the furniture in it and just remove our personal belongings.” He glanced around the room. “We’ll have to go through these boxes.”
Ruth walked over to the rocker. She pulled the sheet off and was surprised to see Grace’s doll sitting there. “I’d like to have the rocking chair in our bedroom if it’s okay with you. Or I can take this one if you want the other one.”
He eyed the chair for a few moments. Or maybe it was the doll he was staring at. “I’m fine taking this one. It seems the rocking chairs should stay in the family since they belonged to each of our grandmothers.”
For a few seconds they sounded like a normal husband and wife just making decisions together. Ruth reminded herself that wasn’t the case as she picked up Grace’s doll and held it to her chest.
“I can think of one person who might enjoy this doll, someone who would treasure it even as she gets older. And I’m sure there are some other things in the nightstand. Remember that little red suitcase Grace kept under the bed with her trinkets in it?”
Gideon smiled. “I think Becky would like the doll, too, and yes, how could I forget the little red suitcase.”
She walked toward him and as they faced each other, Ruth still clutching the doll, she gazed into his eyes as a warm feeling swept over her.
They’d been so in love. Then, poof. Gone. Everything. Yet something was bubbling to the surface between them.
Ruth got on her knees by the bed and pulled out the red suitcase, clumps of dust and dirt coming out with it. She coughed, then hauled it onto the bed. She’d found the piece of luggage in her grandmother’s attic when she was about Grace’s age and later gave it to her daughter.
“Grace said she kept her private things in here. I almost feel like we’re trespassing. But we have to know what’s in it, right? I mean, there might be other things Becky might like, or that we want to keep.” Ruth sat on the bed, brushing the dust off the suitcase. Gideon sat on the other side of the suitcase.
“Yeah, I think we should open it.”
Neither moved. They each rested a hand on top of the worn piece of luggage. Finally, Gideon popped the latch and slowly lifted the lid.
Ruth carefully reached for a piece of white paper with three stick figures drawn on it, two tall, one small in the middle. Smiling, she said, “I remember when she drew this in her first year of school.” She ran a finger along the sketch. “I never knew she kept it.”
“Look at this.” Gideon chuckled as he held up a ticket from the county fair. “I remember this day like it was yesterday.”
“That was a great day.” Ruth reached for a small teddy bear. “You won her this shooting those play guns filled with water.” She laughed. “You weren’t very good. It probably cost you twenty dollars to win a five-dollar bear.”
“Be nice.” He winked at her. “Those guns were on wobbly stands, and probably that way on purpose.”
Ruth raised a shoulder and dropped it slowly. “If you say so, dear.” Her chest tightened as she raised her eyes to Gideon’s. “Sorry. Old habit.”
She’d always used the endearment playfully, and she was surprised how easily it slipped out. She lowered her gaze and set the teddy bear aside. “I think I’d like to keep this, if that’s okay with you.” When she loo
ked at him again, he nodded.
They shuffled through more of Grace’s keepsakes, laughing, remembering, and treasuring each of their daughter’s prized possessions.
“This feels good. Talking about her. Remembering. Laughing.” Ruth shook her head. “Maybe we should have done this a long time ago.”
Gideon looked around the room before he stood. “Grace would want us to go on with our lives. She wouldn’t want us to be sad forever.”
A phone rang in the living room with an unfamiliar ringtone, so she knew it was Gideon’s.
“It’s probably a good thing it rang, or I might have forgotten it.”
Ruth glanced around Grace’s room, then took the doll and followed Gideon downstairs to the living room. He chuckled. “Now I just have to find it.”
Instead of looking for his phone when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned back toward Ruth. She didn’t jump when he cupped one of her cheeks, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He lifted his other hand to her face as well.
“You are still as beautiful as ever.” He whispered the words as he tilted his head to one side. It had taken five years and a visit to their daughter’s room for her and Gideon to reconnect emotionally, but Ruth couldn’t deny the physical attraction still between them. They’d loved each other deeply for so many years.
She didn’t move when Gideon’s hands eased her closer. Ruth longed to feel his mouth on hers, a taste of the intimacy they’d shared as husband and wife. But just before his lips brushed against hers, Gideon’s phone beeped. It was sitting on the back of the couch close enough for Ruth to see the screen. Instinctively, her eyes darted toward the sound, and before she could look away her mind registered the words on the display.
Missed call from Cheryl. And below that was a text message. I miss you.
Ruth’s chest tightened and the doll slipped from her hand. Now she had a name to put with Gideon’s girlfriend, and she took a step away from him as he picked up the phone and glanced at the text. Ruth had almost done something horrible. She’d nearly kissed a man she no longer had a right to be with. Married or not, Gideon was involved with someone else.
