Loving Promises (7 page)

“Five’s pretty important. I suppose she wants a party.” He turned on the tap and swished a plate beneath the water.

“I don’t know for sure, but we’ll do something.” She carried another stack of dishes to the sink and rinsed them under the tap while Dale added them to the dishwasher.

“I just read in the paper about the Grand Haven Sand Sculpture Contest at the end of June.” He turned toward her, still clutching a plate while water dripped to the floor. “Maybe you could take her to the beach to see the sculptures. Michael might enjoy that, too.”

“Thanks for the idea,” she said, setting another container into the refrigerator. Bev noted he didn’t offer to go, but he did make the suggestion. “I’ll leave it up to Kristin. She can decide.”

He turned off the water and wiped his hands on a towel, then ambled toward her and put his arm around her shoulder. “Good idea. Kids need to learn to make decisions. Then when she’s an adult, she can make wise choices. Know what I mean?”

When she looked up, Dale’s gaze penetrated hers. He lifted a finger and ran it along the line of her lips. She caught her breath and turned away. She needed to get a grip on herself. Friendship wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

B
ev curled up on the sofa, her eyes aimed at the television while her mind was somewhere else. The house was quiet. The kids had gone to the park with a friend’s parent, and Bev had opted to stay home. Sometimes she needed a few minutes to herself.

Today her thinking weighed heavy. Since her serious talk with Dale about being friends, she’d enjoyed his company. He was only around on the weekends, but she found it a wonderful diversion from her usual Saturday of house-cleaning and kid-entertaining.

But since the Memorial Day picnic a week ago, she’d had second thoughts. How could a comfortable friendship agitate her so? Bev let the sensation roll over her again. She’d gone from tolerating Dale to liking him, and now she couldn’t get him out of her mind. He caressed her thoughts like satin sheets.

The situation opposed her plans. She’d wanted an easygoing friendship—a companion, not someone who occupied her mind much of the day. Bev hoped it was only the newness of the relationship. Despite her hesitation, she felt a new sense of purpose knowing Dale would be coming for the weekend. He’d plowed into her life and changed it. But how could she be friends when her heart was pulling her in unwanted directions?

While the light from the TV flickered across the room, Bev closed her eyes and sent up a prayer. She needed God’s support and strength. She needed to stay firm in her conviction that marriage wasn’t for her or for the good of the children. They came first. She really liked Dale and enjoyed his company, but she would never change him. Kids weren’t his cup of tea…or coffee either. Friendship was one thing, but when her mind willed itself in a direction beyond she needed help.

A portion of a Bible passage flew to her mind.
The Lord is my strength and my shield.
What was God telling her? She understood the strength part. She needed that, but what about the shield?

As the words wound through her, she felt her heart skip with awareness. God had heard her prayer and sent her the verse to give her a warning. Did she need to protect herself from Dale? She’d already alerted herself to the problem. Whatever the Lord meant, she prayed He would continue to guide her footsteps.

Sounds from outside caught Bev’s attention. She rose
and snapped on the porch light as her mother came up the front steps. Bev opened the door to greet her. “You look tired, Mom.”

Mildred stepped inside; she was more silent than usual, and Bev knew something was wrong. “This has been a difficult day. Dotty’s not doing well, and I stayed for Al.”

“What’s wrong?”

“An infection. She was running such a high temperature I called the doctor, and we took her to Emergency. They did a catheterization and gave her antibiotics. She’s home now, but it’s not good.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bev said, giving her mother a hug.

“While we waited, Al kept repeating over and over that I was the answer to his prayers.”

“And you are, Mom. God led you here to Loving for this purpose.”

Mildred relaxed her shoulders, made her way to an easy chair and sank into the cushion. “I reminded him of our promise years ago. I know if the tables were turned and Al knew I needed him, he would be there for me.”

Bev wasn’t sure, but knowing her mother and Al, she wouldn’t be surprised. They had the kind of friendship that seemed so rare, a true love and devotion without the romance—the kind of relationship she’d love to have with Dale. Still, Dale’s belief that every person only had one soul mate didn’t fly when she thought about her mother and Al. They seemed perfect friends. Soul mates.

“Al called Dale and talked with him about Dotty’s condition. He was upset, naturally. He said he’d try to take a few days off to spend more time with his mother. I told Al to tell him I’d be there and not to worry, but Dale said he would come anyway.”

“She’s Dale’s mother. It only makes sense he wants to be with her.” Bev felt a cold chill settling over her. She prayed her mother would use good sense at the Levins’. Dale and his father needed time alone. She longed to say something, but the right words wouldn’t come without hurting her mother’s feelings.

“Speaking of Dale, he asked me to go to the boat races on Saturday. Maybe the new problem with Dotty will change that, but if not, will you watch the kids?”

Mildred did a slow turn as if she were in a dream. “Saturday? It depends. Not if Al needs me.”

“That’s fine. If he does, I’ll get a baby-sitter.” She studied her mother for a moment and took a chance on speaking her mind. “You can’t be there every minute of the day. When Al’s home or Dale’s there, you can give them a chance to spend some time alone with Dotty.”

“Do you think I’m interfering? I’m a nurse, Bev. I’m not meddling in their lives.”

“I didn’t suggest you were. I only meant you might want to be sensitive to their needs.” Dale’s needs were her real concern.

“I’m a professional. I have good sense, Bev.”

“I know, Mom.”

But did she? Her mother had already been spending all day and into the evening at the Levins’ without being the official caregiver. What would happen when she was?

Dale glanced at Bev, then back at the traffic. He’d never seen her so stressed.

“The evening started off badly,” he said, knowing she’d had a difficult time with the kids.

“Can you imagine hearing your daughter scream ‘I hate you?’”

Dale couldn’t imagine having a daughter, period.

Bev lifted her fingers and massaged the center of her forehead.

“Headache?”

She gave him a fleeting nod. “I feel like a rubber band being pulled in every direction. I’m ready to snap.”

“You’re a frustrated mother.” He placed his arm around her shoulders. “You know psychology. Kids want attention. If they don’t get attention for being good, they get it for being bad. That’s what happened today.”

“Never mind. It’s my problem.”

“Not anymore. It’s the baby-sitter’s.” Dale reached across the seat and brushed his palm along Bev’s arm. “The kids wanted your attention tonight. You were leaving without them. You rarely do that. So they didn’t know how else to get your attention except by using the way that they know best.”

She grimaced. “And they got what they wanted.”

“Only in part.” He hated to see her so frustrated. Parenthood wasn’t for him, especially if it were like this all the time. He left his hand resting against her arm, moving it in slow circles and hoping she understood he cared. “The kids got your attention, but it didn’t work. They wanted you to stay home, but you didn’t. That’s a mark in your favor.”

“I don’t know why I let them rile me,” Bev said. “I go off like I don’t have a brain in my head.”

“You’re frustrated.”

“What would you do?” she asked.

“Let them make decisions. Give them options—but you pick the choices. You’re a child-care worker. Treat your kids like you do the ones at Loving Care.”

She stared at him as if she’d never realized the connection. “It’s easier there.”

“Because you have nothing vested. You care about the kids, but they’re not your flesh and blood. That changes everything.” And how well he knew that.

Dale wanted to beat his head against a wall for letting Bev get under his skin. A woman with kids. He knew better. Talk about making choices. He’d let his heart make the choices and not his head.

“I use choice options at work,” he said. “It’s a tremendous way to let people think they’re deciding when you’ve set up the limits.”

She nodded. “Give me an example.”

Dale scrambled for an idea. What did he know about
kids? “Okay.” His mind grasped at choices. “Here goes. ‘Michael, you can watch TV for a half hour, or you can play the game with your sister and then watch TV until bedtime. You decide.’”

Bev’s face brightened. “I suppose I do give limited choices at the day care.”

They drove a block before Bev broke the silence. “I thought you didn’t know anything about kids.”

He glanced at her, then back to the traffic. “I don’t. I’m using common sense. I’m no authority, Bev. I’m just tossing out possibilities to help you. I suppose I should keep my mouth shut.” How many times had she told him to stay out of her business?

She tugged at her seat belt so she could shift to face him. “No, don’t. Sometimes I get irked when you butt in, but I’m getting to know you better. You’re trying to help.”

Help. He’d needed that himself for a long time. He still did. “I am. Friends help friends, Bev. You’ve given me food for thought more than once. I’ve even picked up my Bible a few times.”

“But did you open it?” A faint grin joined her hopeful expression.

“I have. Even read some passages.”

She nodded, her face looking more content than he’d seen it since she’d climbed into his car.

Dale turned his attention to the highway, but his thoughts lingered on Bev. His heart went out to her—
raising two kids alone, learning to live without a marriage partner and adjusting to a new job. Even one major life change was hard to handle. Thinking of his mother’s illness, Dale could relate.

A partner. That’s one thing he missed staying single. Someone special to share his time and thoughts. He had buddies, but that was different. Men talked sports and cars. They discussed politics and the latest TV programs, but they didn’t talk about what was in their gut. Never. But with a woman, he could talk about how deeply he worried about his parents and how much he enjoyed a sunset.

He gazed into the bright summer sky and yearned for something he couldn’t put his finger on. Lately, Dale had realized he didn’t have much to make his life worthwhile. He did his job well. He loved his parents and honored them, but besides that, he hadn’t made a mark on the world. If he died tomorrow, he’d be forgotten once his folks were gone.

People with children left something important behind. Another human. A whole lineage of people. Look at Sarah and Abraham. He thought of the biblical “begats” that he’d always found so boring when he’d read the Bible years ago, but now that he thought about it, maybe the Lord was saying something to humankind. When we create a life, we leave our mark on the world.

Bev would leave her mark with two children.
Though kids could be frustrating, he’d watched Bev’s face light up in those moments when the kids were thoughtful or fun. He couldn’t imagine having a child of his own, part of him that would continue after he was gone.

He halted his thoughts and turned down Howard Street to Harbor Drive. When he came to the harbour-front parking lot, he pulled in.

“This is it,” he said. “They’ll sail along here into the marina.”

Bev collected her handbag and sweater while he climbed out and rounded the car to meet her. When he opened the door, she sent him a smile that warmed him more than a summer heat wave. When she stepped onto the concrete, Dale took her arm and guided her across the street to the Lake Michigan shoreline.

They followed the boardwalk and settled on the large set of bleachers used for waterfront events. Today it was filled with people waiting for the racers.

Off in the distance, a few sails jutted above the horizon. Dale pointed toward them as they heaved forward on the billowing turquoise water. The sun lowered in the sky, dipping into the endless lake and sending its golden fingers flickering across the waves.

The boats reminded Dale of himself, tossing around on an endless sea of waves, heading for a distant shore he had yet to know. Frightening. Lately, between his mother’s problems and Bev stepping into his life, he’d
felt lost. She’d thrown off his plans and filled his mind, but in his heart, he sensed he could never make a commitment or say “I love you.”

A breeze blew, and he felt Bev shudder with the cooler temperature. He slipped his arm around her shoulder. “Is that better?” he asked.

She smiled and snuggled closer.

Dale tucked her against him as his thoughts wandered away to forbidden realms. If he were smart, he’d take back his arm and control the forces that swelled within him. But the sweet sensation won out, and he let himself enjoy the moment.

Bev’s hair ruffled with the breeze and tresses brushed against Dale’s face, arousing his senses and leaving him thoughtful. He knew so little about her. How had widowhood impacted her? Had her marriage been a good one? Had her husband been her soul mate? If he were correct, the man had to be the one God wanted her to be with forever, bound by an oath of love.

“This is wonderful,” Bev said. “I can’t believe I’ve lived here most of my life and never seen the races.”

He saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes that piqued his interest.

“Tell me about yourself, Bev.” He tilted her chin toward his face. “Remember? Today’s my turn.”

She gave him a halfhearted grin, but he knew it was a cover-up. He’d gotten to know Bev well enough to recognize the nuances in her face.

“Nothing exciting,” she said, turning her attention toward the sailboats.

He wanted to look in her eyes, but she resisted and he didn’t persist.

“I was born in Loving. When I was in high school my father was transferred to the Detroit area. I was miserable leaving all my friends.”

“You graduated in Detroit?”

“Warren, Michigan, actually. Then I went to junior college. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but college seemed the thing to do. I met Jesse there. We’d known each other in Loving, although we hadn’t been close then. We married and moved back here. That’s about it.”

But Dale knew that wasn’t all of it.

Bev’s hazel eyes darkened when she finally looked at him. “Jesse died three years ago in a motorcycling accident. I’d stopped working to raise the kids. I had a hard time.”

“With two kids, I can imagine.”

“Kristin was only one. She doesn’t remember Jesse, but Michael has a few memories. His father really doted on him.”

The image rose in Dale’s thoughts like a shadow, and he sensed the impact his father’s death had made on Michael. Now, as an adult, Dale was facing a similar grief of his own. “What did you do after Jesse died?”

She lowered her gaze again. “Jesse left no insurance. I had no income and too much pride for assistance, so
I did what mothers do. I found a job at Loving Care.” She lifted her head, her face brighter. “It’s actually been a great experience. I could take the kids with me. After Michael started school, I only had Kristin, and next September, she’ll enter kindergarten.”