Loving Promises (15 page)

Al seemed to cope with the day. Occasionally his face took on a grave look, and Bev knew his thoughts were with Dotty. But most of the time he played with the children and reminisced about the good old days with her mother.

While Bev worked in the kitchen finishing up the last of the dishes, Dale wandered in and stood in the doorway. He leaned against the jamb, so unlike him lately. She’d begun to enjoy his surprise hugs and the kisses on the neck that sent shivers down her spine, but today he only stood and watched her.

“How’s it going?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t going well at all.

He shrugged and wandered closer, leaning his back against the counter. “I miss my mother.”

Bev dropped the dish towel near the sink and shifted to his side. “Holidays are the worst.”

Dale nodded and nibbled on the corner of his finger as if he had a hangnail. “I don’t want to beat this to death, but we could have had our regular Christmas tree with all my mom’s ornaments. That wasn’t too much to ask.” He paused and turned to Bev. “Or is it?”

She closed her eyes, drawing in strength to respond. His question put her in a position between Dale and her mother, a spot she didn’t want to be in. “You know it’s not too much. I suppose no one asked you.”

Bev pictured the small Christmas tree in the Levins’ living room, decorated with bows, draped ribbon and gold poinsettias—pretty, but her mother’s idea, Bev knew. “Mom thought the regular decorations would be too much of an emotional reminder of your mom.”

“Why does she want to keep my mother out of our holiday? She was part of my life since I was born. Couldn’t we keep her traditions one more year?”

“Dale, you’re asking the wrong person. I agree with you. My mom was trying to be kind, but she should have considered that you and your dad could decide what you could handle.”

Dale lifted his hand and ran it across the back of his neck, then turned to her with such a sad expression, it broke her heart.

“I’m sorry, Bev,” he said, sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her closer. “I’m putting you in the middle. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s Christmas and I should be holding the mistletoe over your head and letting you know how much you mean to me.”

“Who needs mistletoe?” she asked, praying the distraction would ease the tension.

Dale’s face eased to a half smile, and his lips met hers, so soft and warm she melted in his arms. He drew back, his eyes searching hers as if he had things to say but couldn’t find the right words.

A giggle sailed in from the hallway, and they spun around to see Michael and Kristin watching.

“Yuck,” Michael said. “Mushy stuff. When are we opening presents?”

Kristin covered her mouth as if holding back her giggles.

Dale stepped back, but didn’t let go of Bev’s waist. “In a few minutes. Your mother and I are talking.”

“That’s not talking,” Michael said. “That’s kissing.” He vanished from the doorway with Kristin on his heels. Bev could hear them telling Mildred and Al it was almost time to open the gifts, but there were no comments about the smooching.

“We shouldn’t let the kids see us kissing,” she said.

“Why not? They should know what love looks like.”

Bev’s heart skipped a beat. Love. He’d never said the word before, not even in that context. She’d waited so long to hear him say he loved her. He still hadn’t, but he’d gotten closer. She’d settle for that.

D
ale felt angry at himself. Why had he allowed his emotions to surface on Christmas Day? He’d struggled to keep back his anger and his frustration with himself.

Love.
He’d heard the word fly from his mouth without realizing it. He’d been so close to making a commitment, so ready to pry the rising words of love from his heart and tell Bev how she made his life whole and completed him in every way. But in the past two weeks, he’d felt as if he’d been thrown off a cliff.

Bev finally came in from the kitchen. They gathered around the tree with their gifts piled in front of them. Naturally, the children had the largest stacks, and Dale suggested they open theirs first. Electronic race-car games, a doll with a full wardrobe plus a sports car, books, puzzles and new clothing spread around their feet. Dale knew they couldn’t keep track of who gave them what.

Bev opened hers next, sniffing the perfume, admiring the gold necklace and charm and modeling the new sweater. Dale followed, then his father, each pleased with the surprises found beneath the wrappings.

Mildred seemed delighted with the teapot that Bev had helped Dale select. It was a square pot, decorated with a dark background and a myriad of tiny flowers. Chintz, Bev had called it. English china. Dale knew nothing about teapots, but he knew Mildred was pleased.

Finally Al set a package onto Mildred’s lap. The box was small, and Dale felt his blood pressure rise. He couldn’t imagine that his father would give Mildred what he feared.

Mildred eyed the package and gave Al a wary look, but his father only smiled. She pulled the paper from the dark blue box and lifted the lid. Without speaking, her gaze shifted from the gift to Al and back again.

“What is this, Al?” Mildred asked, reaching into the box and lifting a gold chain with a pendant that blinked with diamonds.

“It was Dotty’s,” Al said. “I don’t have a daughter, and I doubt Dale would want to wear it.”

He sent Dale a smile, and Dale did all he could not to rebel. His father didn’t seem to notice.

“Dotty had so much jewelry she’d gathered through the years,” Al said. “I have plenty for Dale’s wife—if he ever marries, that is.” He gave Dale a raised eyebrow.

Dale sank into the cushion. His father was right. He wouldn’t use the jewelry, but it had been his mother’s. How could his dad give it away to a friend? He glanced at Bev and saw her distress, but in a heartbeat, she shifted her gaze to the necklace.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. She kept her eyes averted as if afraid to see the look on Dale’s face.

“I shouldn’t accept this,” Mildred said, “but I’m touched that you want me to have it.”

“You loved Dotty, too.” Al rose, then took the chain from her hands and opened the clasp.

Mildred shifted her hair while Al placed it around her neck and stood back. “Jewelry needs to be worn. It’s lifeless in a box.”

So was his mother, Dale thought, swallowing the hurt he felt. Shame washed over him. He knew he was being obstinate, but he couldn’t help the feelings that roiled within him. If things kept up the way they were, he couldn’t see how he and Bev would ever make a go of their relationship. How could he resent her mother and still be civil? Blood was thicker than water, he knew. Resenting her mother and failure as a father-figure left little promise in Dale’s eyes. Commitment was a laugh. He wondered how he’d even thought it possible.

“And here’s my next surprise,” his father said. “I’ve decided to retire after inventory in January. I’ll keep the drugstore, hire a full-time pharmacist and a store man
ager. I want to enjoy my life. At least, what I have left of it. I want to travel and spend time with the people I love.”

Dale rose and began to gather the torn pieces of wrapping paper and smashed bows, feeling crushed by his father’s news. He busied himself cleaning the floor while the others offered their congratulations to his father.

Unable to deal with his hurt, Dale hurried from the room, pulled a trash bag from the closet and stuffed the debris into it. His fist jammed the Christmas paper and colorful ribbon into a wad while he wished he could minimize his feelings as easily.

So much for devotion.

He controlled himself through dessert and the rest of the evening. Bev had gotten quieter, too. He didn’t know if she realized he was upset or if she felt the same. He’d talk to her later, but something had to give.

When the others had gone home and he and his father were alone, Dale finally spoke. “So you’re really doing it?”

His father lifted his head from admiring the cardigan he’d received from Mildred and placed it in his lap. “You mean retiring?”

Dale nodded.

“We talked about this before, Dale. It’s the right thing for me to do. I’m not concentrating at the pharmacy, and I could make a mistake. I’ve lost my spirit there.”

“But why? I still don’t get it. If you’d retired while Mom was alive, I’d understand. What are you going to do with yourself?”

“I already told you. Travel, laugh, enjoy whatever life I still have. I’m going to live.”

He glared at his father, disbelieving. His father was only sixty. He could work for years.

Al folded the sweater and placed it back in the box by his feet. “Since your mother died, I’ve come to realize how precious life is. I see how we waste it on unimportant things. I’m not going to do that anymore.” His eyes misted.

“You know, Dale…” His father leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands. He rubbed at his eyes, forever it seemed, until he looked up. “It’s finally hit me, Son.”

Dale felt his chest tighten and fear coursed through him. He felt certain from the look on his father’s face that he didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

“I’m ashamed to tell you this, but I needed to work these past years to get away from your mother’s illness. I pray the good Lord doesn’t put you in that situation, having to watch your wife die. I’ve finally been able to face how horrible it was.”

He shook his head and looked at Dale. “I loved your mother more than any other woman, but I needed to work. Sitting there day in, day out surrounded by sadness and sickness without a reprieve kills the spirit.”

Dale rose and walked to the window. “You’re right, Dad, I don’t want to hear this.”

“But you should. I know you resent Millie, but she
saved us in a way. Saved your mother and me from depression. We were so bound in our sorrow we’d almost stopped talking. Millie came along and brought life back into our house. For your mother and me both. It was the first time I’d heard Dotty laugh in months. Do you know what that did for my heart? It made it sing.”

Dale spun around, his body rigid. “You gave her Mom’s diamond pendant.” Distress prickled down his limbs. “How could you do that?”

“It was easy, Dale. Your mom’s not going to wear that jewelry anymore. She doesn’t need it. She’s in glory, Son. She’s glowing in heaven with the angels, all fresh and healthy. And like I said, jewelry needs to be worn. It’s lifeless in a box.”

Dale opened his mouth and closed it, overwhelmed by his feelings of resentment.

“And so am I, Son. If I box myself away from the world and wallow in grief, I’m lifeless, too. Do you want me to do that?”

Dale felt tears press behind his eyes. He looked into his father’s strained face and went to him. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered.

“I know.”

Dale felt like a child wrapped in his father’s strong arms. Where was his strength and support for his father? Tears welled in Dale’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, and he felt his father’s shoulders shudder with his own sorrow.

The Christmas-tree lights blurred and ran together while they embraced, releasing the grief they’d contained for too long.

Since Christmas, Dale slipped into silence. Bev knew that something had happened, but she had no idea what unless it was the constant stress about her mother’s relationship with Al. Sometimes Dale was like a boy with a secret. His behavior taunted her, and she longed to know what was on his mind. But Dale had a way of shutting people out. She could only pray it had nothing to do with her or the children.

Her mother and Al had continued their cloaked friendship, avoiding public places for fear of gossip. Her mother continued attending Unity Church while Al had returned to Fellowship. The whole situation broke Bev’s heart, and she felt as if she were part of the problem. She’d told her mother about the gossip at the beauty salon and nagged at her about what her and Al’s friendship might look like to others. Much of her fear was that the relationship would scare away Dale. Her own selfish purpose, she admitted.

Outside she heard Dale’s car pull into the driveway to pick them up for Sunday-morning worship, and the children came out of their rooms, Kristin tying her shoe while trying to walk.

When she opened the door, Bev felt disappointment that Dale no longer gave her a kiss on her cheek. Her
gaze drifted toward his empty car in the driveway. “Where’s your dad?”

“He said he’d meet us there.” Dale picked up Michael’s jacket from a nearby chair and held it out for him.

Bev bundled Kristin into her warm coat, and they stepped outside into the mid-January cold to hurry into Dale’s pre-warmed car. Bev had grown to love the feeling of family, and she’d begun to realize she was ready to accept the commitment of marriage. She glanced at her two children and then at Dale, letting her dreams flow. One day she might hold a new baby in her arms—another child to love.

Dale shifted into Reverse and pushed the button on the radio. Praise music filled the car as they drove, leaving little room for conversation. When the church’s steeple came into view, Bev was comforted that God was looking down on them.

Kristin hurried off to Sunday school, but Michael lingered behind, wanting to stay in church. Bev knew he only wanted to stay glued to Dale, so she scooted him off and made him promise to stay there.

Dale clasped her arm as they climbed the steps into the building. The scent of polished wood greeted her as she made her way into the sanctuary. When they headed down the aisle, Bev froze.

She saw her mother near the front, her head pivoted as if looking for her. Bev felt Dale cringe at her side,
and she feared looking at him. She prayed that he would accept the inevitable, but he had not resolved what seemed to be the Lord’s will. Bev’s heart sank, knowing her relationship with Dale might never be the same.

When her mother noticed them, a smile lit her face. Al sat beside her. For some reason, they’d obviously changed their minds about being low-key, and Bev could almost hear a buzz as people watched them together. Her mother and Al smiled at each other with a comfort and familiarity that only came from knowing someone deeply.

Bev wasn’t worried about her mother’s indiscretion. She was confident in her mother’s Christian morals, but did the others know her that well?

Mildred beckoned, and Bev and Dale continued down the aisle until they reached the pew. Bev slid in first and Dale followed. She eyed her mother, wanting so much to ask why she’d changed her mind.

As if her mother knew what she was thinking, Mildred rested her hand on Bev’s and gave it a pat. “We’ve discussed this with the pastor, and we’re following his suggestion,” she whispered.

We’ve discussed this with the pastor?
Her mother’s comment sent Bev’s heart reeling. They’d discussed exactly what with the pastor? But this wasn’t the time to question. Bev bowed her head, asking the Lord to help her focus on His Word, not on the thoughts and attitudes of those around her.

She raised her head, her fears covered by the strength that she’d received from her earnest prayers and from an amazing new sense that God had heard her prayer.

When the pastor rose for the sermon, Mildred gave her hand a pat, and Bev noticed that her other hand rested on Al’s. She looked content, and whatever happened, whatever the pastor had said to them, Bev knew God was in charge.

The pastor paused with his Bible open. His gaze traveled over the length of the congregation. “Our reading today is from 2 Thessalonians 3:11-18. I challenge you to listen to Paul’s words to the people of Thessaly. ‘We hear that some among you are idle. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the bread they eat. And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right. If anyone does not obey our instruction in this letter, take special note of him. Do not associate with him, in order that he may feel ashamed. Yet do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother.’”

Bev gave a sidelong glance at her mother and saw her smile. As the pastor continued to expound on the dangers of gossip, her mother’s focus didn’t waver.

The pastor’s voice rose. “And as Paul said in conclusion, ‘Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you. These are my words to you. Go in peace and
remember that your attitude should be as that of Jesus Christ.’”

But when she looked toward Dale, his expression hadn’t changed. He sat as if he hadn’t heard or understood the pastor’s message.

Music filled the church, and the congregation stood, lifting their voices in song. Bev tried to push aside Dale’s attitude and sing from her heart, feeling strength in God’s mercy and love.

When the last hymn faded, Dale bolted toward the door, leaving Bev confused. She hurried after him, but came to a halt when Rod Drake, one of the church deacons, came up behind Dale and grasped his shoulder.

“How are things?” he asked with a quirky smile.

“I see you have a friendly little family gathering today.”

“Right,” Dale said.

Rod grinned as his eyes shifted toward her mother and Al making their way to the back of the church. “Looks like one of these days you’ll find yourself becoming your own grandpaw.” He delivered the line with a singsong twang, then gave Dale’s arm a playful punch.

Bev opened her mouth, but then closed it and pulled on Dale’s arm. “We need to go,” she said. Before she could move, Dale pushed past her and hurried toward the door.

Fear charged through her limbs as she fled down the stairs toward the parking lot. “Dale,” she called.