by Jody Day
He froze.
Jeff took both her hands and appeared to be pleading with her. Risé shook her head and tried to pull away. Jeff jerked her arm and then grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Evan shouted, startling his mother awake.
“What’s wrong, honey?” She sat up.
He dashed out the door and into the street, not noticing the oncoming car until it came to a screeching halt. As he kept moving, he put up a palm as an apology. He leapt into Risé’s yard, pulled Jeff off the porch and pinned him to the grass. “Get in your car and leave. Don’t ever come back.” Evan’s low, emphatic growl surprised even him.
Jeff looked up at Risé, and then back to Evan. “Who do you think you are? Get off me!”
“You better go, Jeff,” Risé said.
George came outside. “What’s going on?”
Evan climbed off Jeff, pulled him to a stand, and then pushed him to his car.
Jeff peeled out as if he’d heard the starting shot at a race.
Evan turned. Risé was crying in her father’s arms.
George mouthed, “Thank you.”
Evan brushed off and started back across the street.
Bud and his mom were standing in the front yard.
“What happened?” Mom asked, fingering his hair back into place as if he were ten years old.
He jerked back. “Think Earl,” he said.
Risé would be the stuff of dreams after he went back to school. But now he could imagine that he’d really helped her. He hoped she’d be better than his mom when it came time to pick the next one. He squashed the thought that it might be him someday. Never happen.
Bud lifted both arms in the air, his hands cupped down, and raised one leg. He squealed some kind of martial arts noise. “Sqeeee haw!”
His mom clasped her hands together and fawned. “Oh, Boudreaux!”
Ick. “What are you doing?” Evan looked up and down the street. Anyone watching would think a sumo wrestler wannabe had moved into the neighborhood.
“Getting ready. That scum might come back for you,” Bud said.
Bring it on.
6
“I’m so sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to bring that kind of problem to our front door.” Risé grimaced. Such a waste of two years of her life.
“How long have you been putting up with his outbursts?” Dad measured coffee grounds into the basket.
“Hard to say. I’d seen him get angry at others, and although I thought his actions were a little over the top, he had good reason. You know, the stuff that would make anyone mad.” Risé took two mugs out of the cabinet. “It wasn’t often, so I didn’t really pay that much attention.”
He set the pot to brew then reached for her arm. “And this bruise?”
“That happened the night before I came home last week. We’d come to an impasse about something, and we couldn’t get over it. I broke up with him. Well, it was mutual. But we argued, and he squeezed my wrist too hard.” She gently nudged her arm away from him. Nothing like looking a fool in front of Dad and the whole neighborhood.
“Do you mind me asking what the impasse was?” Dad poured them each a cup.
They sat down at the kitchen table.
“I made a commitment to wait until marriage, you remember that?” She gripped the mug with both hands.
“I do. It was one of my proudest moments. Your mother’s, too.” He took a sip and grimaced. “Sorry, can’t get used to black coffee.”
Poor Dad. She may as well get it all out in the open. “Jeff didn’t want to wait. I feel as if it’s my fault, though. I let things go too far.” So embarrassing. She looked away.
Dad heaved a relieved sigh. “You’re only human. It took a lot of strength to keep your commitment. I’m proud of you.” He slid his hand over and squeezed hers.
“I had to pray big time. I really cared for him. Today, he seems like a different man. I know he’s under stress with his studies. Maybe that’s why the anger increased over this last year. I hate that it ended in such an ugly way, but thank heaven for Evan. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t come.”
“I wasn’t far away, but I didn’t hear anything until the car screeched to a stop. I never thought of a pianist as a macho man type. First, he wouldn’t let me help him, and then he comes to your rescue, quite effectively, I must say.”
“I know.” She shook off the image of a knight in shining armor defending a damsel in distress. Such a bold, sweet thing to do.
“Did you notice his mother and her new husband arrive? I don’t think Evan was happy to see them.”
“Noticed the vehicle. Evan called and said Mr. Lafayette wanted to take us out to dinner. I declined. I hope that’s all right.” He pulled a manila envelope from one of the kitchen drawers.
“Thanks, I’m not really in a mood to socialize.” Although, she did need to thank Evan.
“I declined because we need to talk about this,” he said, dropping the envelope on the kitchen table. “Why are you getting “Now That You’ve Been Accepted” mail from the junior college nursing program?”
“Oh.” The mail had been rerouted to her Candle address since she’d moved out of her apartment at State. Dummy. She hadn’t wanted him to find out like this.
He took his chair again and tilted his head. “Well?”
“Seems I’m saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot today. I was waiting until after Christmas. Didn’t want to upset you.”
“I don’t understand. Haven’t we always talked about everything? You’ve changed since your mother died. That’s not a criticism, just a fact.” He picked up both mugs, poured the coffee into the sink, and then loaded them into the dishwasher.
“Sit down, Dad.” She reached for his hand and nudged him back into his chair.
“What would upset me?”
“It’s just that I don’t want to make things harder for you. Losing Mom was a terrible blow, and then you retired shortly after. You’ve changed, too. You used to be so outgoing.”
“That’s probably true. I’ve missed you, plus Carol and Fin haven’t been home in months. I don’t think things will ever feel completely normal again, but I think I need a new normal. I’ve had Pastor Langford over for dinner a few times. He thinks I should help with the Young Married class at church again.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. You and mom used to enjoy that so much. I know they’d love to have you back.” How would it be without Mom, though?
“Look, if you switched to a nursing program locally so you could be here to take care of me, then that was a bad idea. I can take care of myself.” He paced the kitchen.
“Honestly, Dad, that is only partially true. I do love to cook, and have enjoyed my studies. But I’m not passionate about it. I got interested watching the nurses care for Mom. I wanted that sense of service, of really helping someone. It kind of lit a fire in me. I’ve, um, already dropped out of school and enrolled in this program.” She tapped the envelope on the table.
“So it says. Why didn’t you just join the program at State?”
“Because I wanted to be closer to you. That much is true. But either way, I want to be a nurse. What difference does it make where I study? It will be less expensive, too, boarding at home.”
“I guess I don’t have to ask whether you prayed about it.”
“I confess that my prayer life is a little rusty. I think I was ignoring what God was trying to tell me about Jeff.” Whoa, that realization didn’t feel wonderful.
“Let’s pray about it all now.” Dad held her hands on the table and prayed for Jeff, for her decision about school, and for Evan.
Risé prayed for her Dad’s diabetes, and for the strength he needed to start living again. “I’m so thankful for God’s grace,” she said.
“I never really blamed our heavenly Father for taking Mom, but I guess I wasn’t feeling as chummy.”
“Chummy? Dad, you’re a nut. But I know what you mean. We keep our distance wh
en we want to go our own way.” She sighed, thinking about her parents’ relationship. Oh, that she could have one like theirs someday.
Evan’s face floated into her mind.
“Yes, and He’s always ready to receive us. We only have to say, ‘Father.’” Dad pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her. “It’ll be wonderful to have you home.”
The doorbell rang.
Risé gasped. “What if it’s Jeff?”
“I’ll get it, you stay here.”
Pastor Langford’s voice boomed.
Risé joined them in the family room.
“Hi, Risé. I just brought by that music for the phantom piano player you say you found. Is he available to go to the church and let me give him a run through? It’s too late to round up all the kids, but it’s simple.” Pastor Langford took off his baseball cap.
“Well, we did come by, but you had a guest.”
“I thought that was you. I’m afraid I assumed that Jeff would be around here during the holidays, so I invited him to come and help with the Christmas program. I didn’t know you’d broken up. He told me all about it.” Pastor Langford handed Risé the children’s musical score.
“All about it?” Risé asked.
“I think so. I’ve counseled him to get some help. He promised he would.”
“I’m glad he talked to you. Maybe I could get Evan with you tomorrow night? His parents came in unexpectedly, so I don’t think he’s available tonight.”
“I’m taking Cindy out to Dallas for the day, our anniversary and all. Hmmm, what to do?” Pastor scratched his head.
“As you say it’s simple; little song, skit, little song, skit. I’m sure he can play it. I’ll sit next to him and make sure he makes the cues. Trust me, he can play.”
“He certainly can. Evan is quite gifted.” Dad said.
“OK, then, I’ll just trust you with it. I better get going. Gotta pack and all. We’re leaving tonight.” He turned to Risé. “Everything OK? God’s not finished with Jeff yet, but I think you made the right decision. Still, it has to be hurtful.”
“Hurtful, yes. Plus I feel as if I wasted two years. I hope he’ll be all right.” Risé said.
“Not wasted. Look at all the hours the two of you put into children’s programs. I’m sure you learned from each other. Try to remember the good things. I’m sure it will bear fruit.” Pastor gave her a sympathetic look.
“You’re right, I’m sure. I’ll get there. Have a good trip. Give our love to Cindy. See you Sunday morning.”
Dad headed for the kitchen. “Nothing like clearing the air to work up a man’s appetite.”
Risé could relate. The stress of the last few hours had burned off the taco she’d eaten. “What are you hungry for?” she asked..
“It’s a soup and grilled cheese kind of night, don’t you think?” Dad pulled a can from the pantry.
“I don’t know about the grilled cheese, though.”
“I took the liberty of shopping off that list Doc gave me today.” He pulled a loaf of bread from the pantry. “Sprouted grain. Less carbs to turn into sugar. And”—he opened the refrigerator door—“low fat cheese.” He pulled out the package and showed her.
“It’s on, then. You do the soup, and I’ll put the sandwiches together. Love you, Dad,” she added.
“Love you too, peanut.”
Her Dad started humming Christmas tunes, and she joined in as they prepared their meal.
Her Dad said grace and Risé silently added her own prayers for Carol and Fin. Evan didn’t appear to be a believer, and she prayed for him, too. There was something special about him, but sadness, as well.
7
The next evening, Evan met his mom and Bud at a buffet restaurant near their accommodations. The sooner this was over, the better. He spotted his mom as he entered. How many purple outfits did she have?
She waved and ran over to him, heels clicking on the tile floor. “There you are, darling! Bud’s already on his second plate.” She put her arm through his and led him to the table.
Bud stood and clapped him on the back. He wore a very large napkin tucked into his shirt collar. “Good to see you. You must be hungry after your heroics this afternoon. I have to say, I’m quite surprised.” He sat, picked up his fork and dug in.
“Bud’s already paid for your dinner. Here, honey, go through the buffet.” She handed him a red tray.
Being hungry was true, but as for the heroics, Evan wasn’t sure. It had only occurred to him later that Risé might not be happy. He filled his plate with fried chicken and mashed potatoes. College cafeteria food was OK, but nothing like this, almost like a home-cooked meal. Maybe he’d have a piece of chocolate pie. Evan returned to the table.
His mother was wiping the corners of Bud’s mouth.
The waitress approached to enquire about his drink preference.
“Lemonade, thank you, if it’s sweet.” Evan unfolded the silverware and placed the napkin in his lap. “So, what do you mean by surprised, Mr. Lafayette?”
“Oh, well, your mother told me you’re a first class piano player. I didn’t expect you to be so, what’s the word?” He picked at his teeth. “Manly, I guess.”
Evan resisted rolling his eyes. No use fighting the misconception. “Right.”
“What will you do after you graduate?” Bud put his arm around Mom and they both leaned forward for his answer.
Evan swallowed his bite of fried chicken. “I don’t know. I can’t afford graduate school. I might teach, either in a school or just start my own studio, like Mrs. Miller.” He wasn’t keen to teach, as grateful as he was to Mrs. Miller. He just wanted to play.
“Not much future in that is there, boy? It’s a hobby, isn’t it, really?” He laughed and popped an entire cookie in his mouth.
Evan looked at his mom. What had she been telling this character? “It’s a career, a profession. I’ll find my way,” he said. He took a nervous breath. What a time to remember Professor Maybank’s story about how he’d earned all his spending money playing for weddings, funerals, dances, and all kind of events. He’d warned them that now people could readily find video instruction on the Internet, it would be tricky to make a living without a side business. “I’ll find my way,” Evan repeated. Was he trying to convince Bud or himself?
“Sure you will, sweetie, but Bud has a great job for you. You can make loads of money and still play your little songs any time you want.” His mom refreshed her lipstick.
My little songs? How could she be so clueless? But then, she didn’t know anything about him really. He’d been shuffled off to a string of babysitters and after school activities as much as possible during his growing up years. And when he was finally old enough to take care of himself, he was often left behind while his mother vacationed or went on yet another honeymoon.
“I can set you up at one of my oil companies. You’d start in the field as a roustabout, then move your way up,” Bud said, as though the decision had been made.
“I’d rather go to graduate school, if you’re wanting to help me,” Evan said. He mentally bit his tongue. What was the likelihood that Boudreaux Lafayette would be around long enough to help him, much less his mother?
“I’m all about helping my Patty’s boy, but I’m a businessman. I don’t throw money away.” He donned a sarcastic frown and shook his head.
“I’m not interested in your oil field job. Thanks, but no thanks.” Evan wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin on the table.
“Sweetheart, this is the deal of a lifetime. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you,” Mom said. She fanned her face as though to fight back tears.
“For me? Are you sure? I don’t want your money. Besides, it would be like summer camp when you had to pick me up after two days because, who was it, Dwayne somebody bailed on you before he wrote the camp a check. I’d just get started working, and this new man of yours will hit you, get tired of you, or someone younger or prettier would come along. We’d both be out in th
e streets, again. I’ve learned to take care of myself.” He stood to leave.
Bud stood and faced him. “You can’t talk to your mother that way, young man. I think you’d better leave.”
His mom was crying and blowing her nose, which garnered the attention of the whole place.
He found himself in a face off with a man twice his size. Out of nowhere, the memory of Risé’s sad face when she’d talked about her mother surfaced in Evan’s brain. His mom had made her mistakes, but she loved Evan in her way. Mom was the only family he had. “I will leave with pleasure. But first”—he turned to his mother—“I’m so sorry about this. I’ll talk to you later.” He got his wallet and pulled out enough money to cover his meal and a tip. He threw it on the table and left.
Would this nightmare never be over? He had everything ready for the Carters’ homecoming. They didn’t need him for the meal that Risé was asked to cook. He might as well pack up and head back to school.
Tonight.
~*~
Leaving tore him up inside. He kicked himself for getting so involved with people who were basically strangers.
The hours he’d spent in the peaceful Carter home, playing while George and Risé put up the tree warmed his heart. He savored the memory driving around the neighborhoods with Risé, eating tacos, and then stopping that moron from hurting her. He cropped everything else out of the picture and tucked it in his heart.
This brief time would fuel his playing. His life lay bare before him. He could teach hundreds of students until he was old and gray. Mrs. Miller hadn’t seemed unhappy. He could carry out her legacy, on her piano, and maybe produce one or two decent musicians. He tidied everything and then searched for a pen and paper to write the Carters a note.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Cartier. Might as well play along.
I trust you will find the house lights and the inside decorations to your liking. I promise Mr. Larkin did not help me, although, as you said, he did offer.
I’m very sorry about Mrs. Cartier’s illness. I hope she gets better. Risé Larkin is counting on it. She loves you both very much. She’s a very special girl.
