Authors: Gail Gaymer Martin
He stopped and turned toward Bev. His face was twisted with resentment and anger, and she knew she could say nothing to make things better.
“I can’t cope with all the innuendos and jokes, Bev. I’m sorry. I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. Until we can get this settled—”
“Until
you
can get it settled,” Bev said, her frustration surfacing. She felt her world coming to a screeching halt.
“Okay, until
I
can get it settled. I don’t want to be the laughingstock of Loving or anywhere.”
Her arms hung at her sides in disbelief. He hadn’t listened to the pastor’s sermon. What could she say? She couldn’t rationalize this with him no matter what she said. They’d been through it before. Dale had issues he needed to deal with, and she couldn’t do it for him.
“Are you coming?” he asked.
“No. You go ahead.” She clamped her teeth tightly, her cheek ticking with frustration and anger.
He frowned. “How will you get home?”
“I have friends. My mom. Anyone but you, Dale. Go home and think this over. If you ever resolve all of your problems, if you can think of someone else other than yourself, then you can let me know—if I even care by then.”
He stood like a statue, his mouth drooping, his beautiful eyes shadowed. “Bev, please—”
“Forget it, Dale. I can’t deal with it anymore either.”
O
n Sunday afternoon, Dale sat at his father’s, feeling the sting of Bev’s anger. Her bitter rejection had forced him to face the truth. His problem didn’t stem from one issue, but multiple stressful situations he’d dealt with recently. Yet it all boiled down to commitment. He’d talked himself in and out of his feelings for Bev from the moment he realized he was falling for her.
He couldn’t talk himself out of it anymore. He loved Bev, and to his amazement, he adored the children. He’d had no idea how protective siblings could be, nor had he understood what fun and camaraderie siblings could share. He’d never experienced it. Dale realized he’d missed out on a wonderful experience.
Since he’d gotten home from church and his father had gone to the pharmacy to work on the year-end inventory, he’d sat alone asking himself how he could
go back to Grand Rapids without resolving the dreadful parting with Bev. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t. Numerous times he’d headed for the telephone then walked away, fearing she would reject him again.
Had he been wrong today? Should he have laughed off Rod Drake’s ignorant comment? The same thought had crossed his mind as he’d watched his father grow closer and closer to Mildred. What had happened to devotion? What had happened to his father’s soul mate? What had happened to his own faith in the perfect marriage?
What difference did it make? He’d resolved to stay single, to live alone and enjoy the freedom. Funny thing, since meeting Bev and the kids, he’d learned the difference between being alone and being lonely. Without them, the apartment he’d called home felt empty. His nights felt lonely. He’d never experienced those raw feelings before Bev came into his life.
Stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. Do everything in love.
Like a bolt of lightning, the Scripture tore through his mind. Dale had begun to read God’s Word and it had given him strength, but in recent weeks he’d failed. He was not a man of courage. He wasn’t strong, and he’d drifted so far from love he felt like a shipwrecked man without a life jacket.
Courage.
The word caused him to rise. If God had truly brought him and Bev together for a purpose, and he’d believed it was so, he couldn’t give up without a
fight. He charged to the telephone, grasped the receiver and punched in her phone number.
Bev caved into the sofa cushion and lowered her face into her hands. She’d agreed to see Dale against her better judgment. Why drag on a relationship that had nowhere to go?
She’d truly believed that God had been involved in their friendship. The silly grocery-store incident, the coincidence of her mother knowing Al, her mom being caregiver to Dotty, being members of the same church. The list could go on and on. Once she’d speculated that perhaps God was leading her mother toward Dotty’s care and the meeting had nothing to do with Dale. Could that have been the only reason? The thought hurt in the pit of her stomach.
Saying no to Dale’s request could have been easier had Bev not had her own confession to make. Today she felt it only fair to tell Dale the truth about her past. Perhaps he could understand why she’d been so afraid of falling in love when she’d met him.
Her mother had invited the children to the movies. Now that Dale had called, Bev was grateful they weren’t home.
A car door slammed, causing her to jump. She grasped her emotions and pulled them together. She needed to stand firm on her convictions. Dale had meant everything to her, but she feared he would never change.
The doorbell rang, and Bev moved to the door un
able to smile. When she opened it, Dale stood on the other side, his generous smile gone, his full lips pinched with distress.
She pushed open the storm door and he stepped inside, bringing in the winter’s cold.
He stood in the foyer as if not knowing where to go.
Bev swung her arm toward the living room, then closed the door behind him as he wandered ahead of her seemingly in a daze.
“We don’t have too long before the kids are back, so let’s get this over with,” she said, surprised at the anger that still radiated in her tone.
Dale looked surprised, then hurt. He still wore his jacket, and he scrunched down in the chair like a lost man. “I don’t know where to begin, Bev. Today felt like a stab. I thought I was dealing with our folks’ friendship, but I can’t seem to shake my feelings.”
What could she say that she hadn’t said before? Bev felt her arms flail with hopelessness. “Did you listen to the sermon? I don’t think you did.”
“I heard it, but our issue wasn’t gossip. It was—I guess I feel betrayed.”
“Betrayed? By me?” Her shoulders stiffened.
“No. By my father.”
His response rocked her backward. “Why? Because of my mother? It’s a friendship, Dale. Can’t you see that?”
“I always thought my dad adored my mother just like I knew he thought I was the greatest son in the world. I
was the center of their lives. But after my mom died, I don’t know, he seemed to step right up beside Mildred and forget my mother. I resent that.”
“It’s not forgetting your mother, Dale.”
His head shot upward, and she saw in his face he didn’t understand. “You believed he’d forgotten you.”
Dale blanched. She’d startled him.
“That’s not it,” he said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “I realize your mother walked in at a time when she was needed. Remember, I wanted someone to give Dad some assistance. Dad said my mother and he had stopped talking. They couldn’t face the inevitable, so they just went through the motions of living until Mildred appeared on the scene.”
“Then you should be grateful, not angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“If it’s not anger, why do you feel betrayed? You need to sort out your feelings. You can’t find the reason for an emotion when you’re looking at the wrong one. Are you angry or are you hurt?”
“Hurt? Why would I be hurt?”
Bev drew up her shoulders, not believing that Dale could hide the truth from himself. “You’re a good son, Dale. Think of the fourth commandment. You’ve followed it to the letter—honor your father and mother, speak well of them, respect them. You’ve done it all.”
Dale winced. “I wanted to do more. Adult children
don’t see their parents with adult eyes sometimes. I finally figured that out.”
Bev was struck by what he said. She’d struggled herself with her relationship to her mother. She’d wanted her mother’s full attention when she’d moved in, she’d encouraged her to care for Dotty, then had resented it. She’d felt the same way Dale did.
“I was still looking at myself as my parents’ child,” Dale said. “I didn’t want to see their flaws. I couldn’t handle their humanness. I couldn’t bear to see my father happy after my mother died. I wanted him to be grief-stricken. Then I could come in as the hero-son and make his life better. But that didn’t happen. Your mother walked in and took over. I resented that.”
Bev thought of confessing her similar feelings, but not tonight. She had other issues and her own confession to make. She leaned nearer, riveting her gaze to his. “God looks in your heart. He knows your struggles. All you had to do was give it up, and let the Lord bless you for standing by their side and loving them.”
He gave a thoughtful nod, looking distracted. “I realized something else today. My mom and dad doted on me, but I missed out on something because of it. I was the little king. Very self-absorbed. I didn’t like to share things.” He halted a moment. “Things or people.”
“Doesn’t that explain why you’ve resented my mother’s friendship with your dad?”
He didn’t respond, and Bev had no idea if he were
listening, but she had no plan to stop. Today she wanted to wipe the slate clean, if not for herself for him. Dale would never be happy until he discovered who he was.
“I know my kids have been a problem for you,” she said, “but you’ve resolved it. I’m proud of you for that, but I think you’ve beaten yourself up over making one error in judgment. I said this before, Dale. I’m not a perfect parent either. I make my share of mistakes, but you know what?”
Her question captured his attention. Finally he looked directly into her eyes.
“We make mistakes out of love. We love someone so much that we want to please them, and sometimes in trying to be everything to our kids, wives, husbands or even parents, we do them a disservice. Please, think about that. Love isn’t the problem, Dale. It’s the answer.”
Dale shifted forward and rested his face in his hands as if defeated. Bev wanted to stop, to let him go, to say goodbye, but that was her head’s reaction. Her heart wanted to hold him and share his tears. He was hurting.
“I’d better go,” he said, rising so quickly he surprised her. “I thought I had more to say, but you’re right. I need to ask myself some questions.”
She stepped forward and caught his arm. “Please, wait a moment. Give me a turn.”
His dismal expression flickered with confusion. “Your turn?”
“My turn.” She gestured toward the chair.
He glanced at it but didn’t move, as if he were calculating whether to stay.
Bev’s chest tightened around her heart, knowing what she would confess, her secret that she’d never told a soul, but she owed it to Dale so he could understand.
Finally he backed up and sat, his spine rigid, his fingers knotted together, his jaw twitching.
“I have something important to tell you.” She’d caught a flicker of concern in his eyes as he studied her face.
“Something serious?” he asked.
“It is to me.” Her gaze drifted to the hazy sun coming through the window, capturing her silhouette. Reflections could never expose the internal struggle within anyone. “It’s a confession.”
“Confession?” His head tilted as his eyes searched hers.
“I want to clarify some things about my marriage.” Bev drew in a lengthy breath, hoping she could find the right words. “I tend to blame Jesse for the mess we were in, but I was as much at fault. I made a lot of mistakes, too, Dale. I thought if I told you, you could more fully understand the fear I’ve felt about getting involved again.”
“Tell me. Please.” His back relaxed and he leaned forward.
Bev licked her lips to moisten them. Panic raced through her, and her hands trembled.
“I’ve blamed Jesse for our less-than-perfect marriage, but it goes two ways. He rode motorcycles when
we met. I rode on the bike with him, enjoying the wind in my hair and the freedom. I was young and away from family for the first time. But things changed when we had the kids. I expected Jesse to change, too. I called him selfish and self-centered, and he was, but it was no surprise. I’d made a bad choice.”
As she spoke, disbelief struck Dale’s face. She saw him struggle with her confession.
“But my greatest mistake was with the Lord. I made a vow until death us do part, and I wanted out of that commitment then. I didn’t know death would come so fast and life would deal us a financial blow, but when Jesse died—” She paused and swallowed hard to lose the words that hung in her throat. “I felt relief as well as sadness. I’m ashamed of that.”
Dale’s eyes narrowed. In his gaze, she saw the dark storm she’d seen come and go with his own struggles.
“It’s horrible to admit,” she continued, “but I was relieved I didn’t have to deal with my promise to God any longer. I didn’t have to live as if I were the picture of happiness when I was miserable half the time. It’s horrible that I felt that way, but it’s taught me a vital lesson.”
Dale had drawn back as if sorting through what she’d said, and Bev prayed that he would understand. She thought too much of him to let the memories of their good times together be tainted by her admission.
“Relationships aren’t always perfect. Soul mates are created by God. They’re not a human’s decision, and
that’s why I hadn’t been able to handle our friendship better than I did. Even though my heart told me one thing, I asked myself if I was really listening to God’s direction, or was I making another mistake listening to my own need?”
“You weren’t making a mistake this time, Bev,” he said. “I would never make a commitment without knowing for sure I could handle it or knowing I would give it my all.”
Bev’s heart twisted. She realized that commitment was a problem with Dale. He feared it, and that’s what made their relationship hopeless.
“I wanted you to know why I could never marry anyone who is self-centered or who’s not strong and willing to be a real partner in the marriage. I need to feel confident in that. It’s taken me a long time to allow myself to accept those feelings again.”
Dale opened his mouth and closed it as if lost for words. The realization that they would never be a couple broke her heart. Despite this certainty, she longed to find she was wrong, but that would never be.
“Before you leave, I want to say thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?” He looked at her in disbelief.
“Thank you for opening my eyes. One thing I learned from our friendship is that I can love again. I’m ready for marriage and ready to be a mother again. I might never have known that if you hadn’t come along.”
“Bev, I—”
She held up her hand. “I don’t want any words of regret or empty promises. I just want to say goodbye as friends.”
“Goodbye?”
She tore herself from the chair and aimed her blurred eyes toward the door. The last thing she wanted to do was let him see her cry.
“Bev…” His voice trailed off as he followed her to the open door, searching her face for something he wouldn’t see.
“Goodbye, Dale.” She pushed the opening wider, letting in the bitter cold that felt warmer than her heart.
He didn’t say a word.
As he descended the stairs, the tears rose behind her eyes and pooled on her lashes. When his car left the driveway, it was only an obscure image.
A blurred shadow.
Remnants of rock salt still sparkled on the concrete walk of Dale’s apartment. The low temperatures had halted any fresh snow, and now the white heaps had darkened to a dirty gray, about as soiled and despondent as Dale felt. He wrapped his jacket around him and bent his head to the cold wind.