Any Man of Mine (17 page)

“I think you've stayed long enough, Steve,” James said pleasantly.

Steve wasn't smiling. In fact, to my surprise, he looked scared. James waited a beat, to make his point, then took his foot away. Steve scrambled to his feet, sidled past James and scurried back to his truck. Seconds later he was off the yard and gone. Just like that.

I drew in a trembling breath and James turned to me. “You okay?”

I nodded, though my legs shook and wobbled. James glanced at Les. “Get her inside, though I don't think Steve will be back.”

And then he was gone again.

I turned down Les's offer of support. I made my own way back into the house, insisting that I was fine, still surprised at how quickly and efficiently James had dealt with Steve.

Les finished his coffee, made small talk about the job, encouraged me to call him if I needed help finding an apartment and then he scampered off. He was probably wondering what kind of loony person would show up next.

I gathered up the coffee cups, my hands still shaking from my close call with Steve. What would I have done if James wasn't here? I thought again of how James had handled him. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, but he got the point across and, better yet, Steve looked spooked.

Thank You, Lord,
I prayed, dropping the cups in the sink.
Thank You for James.

I started washing up, trying to gather my still scattered wits, my mind going backward over the events of the afternoon. In spite of my encounter with Steve, though, other things resonated through my head. James telling Les that I was valuable. To him. Why had he said that?

You know why. He said before that he cares about you. When you and he had your couple's spat.

We weren't a couple. We had kissed a few times.
That first time…I let my mind drift back, reliving the touch of his lips on mine, how his eyes glowed, what his hair felt like…no that was the second time…when I brought Sherry to the arena…but he didn't kiss me then…he just…

Ice water running over my hands broke my daydream and with a shake of my head, I switched the water to hot, rinsed off the cups and put them in the dishwasher.

I'd made plans to do some baking, but I was feeling out of sorts from the past hour's events. Steve. Les's coming.

James.

I yanked off my apron, threw it on the kitchen table, retreated to my bedroom, fell backwards on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering why my life was such a frayed and rough business. I had foolishly thought I had solved all my problems, but somehow my life's focus had shifted and my solutions had created more problems.

I liked James.

I more than liked James. I loved how he took care of his sister. I loved how he took care of his niece. I loved how he took his responsibilities seriously. How he'd rescued me just now.

I loved him.

Couldn't. He'd only been a part of my life for a short while.

I loved him.

I thought again of what James had told me about
finding contentment in the “now.” Was I really living a negative? Was I only thinking about leaving because it was easier than staying and dealing with what I had right now?

Did I really like the challenges my current life gave me? Did I really want to move away from Tracy, from my brothers?

From James?

I love him. The words circled back again and again growing louder each time.

I pushed myself up and, as I often did when struggling with the big or small issues of my life, pulled my Bible off my bedside table. I started randomly flipping it and reading. Grazing. Seeking. My eyes fell on an underlined passage in the Psalms, my preferred destination when I needed comfort or assurance.

Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desire of your heart.

The words from Psalm 37 resonated through my tired and confused mind. I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my face. “Dear Lord, I don't even know what the desire of my heart is anymore,” I whispered. “I'm confused and mixed up and I thought I knew what I wanted, but now I don't know.”

I waited a moment, waiting for a divine revelation, but all I felt was a sense of coming to the top of a scary roller-coaster ride, waiting for the free fall.
Was that fear I was feeling or the exhilaration I felt when I took Spook out? Were the two closely related?

I imagined myself living here, with my brothers and my father, with them clinging to me, I thought of Casey and his endless demands and I panicked, I imagined myself moving to the city, starting over, making new friends. Leaving James. I panicked again. Either scenario was fraught with problems and difficulties.

I didn't know what I wanted.

I wanted to serve the Lord. I wanted to delight in Him. To do good. I wanted to be with James.

“Show me what to do, Lord. Please,” I breathed. “I don't know anymore. Help me to seek You first. To serve You first. To let go of all the other stuff and put You first.”

 

Monday morning at the office. The social workers and caseworkers were all gathered in the meeting room for our weekly meeting and update. We had gone through some of the more difficult cases and tossed some ideas around.

“I don't know what to do with this girl,” Henry said in his patent nasally whine. “She won't listen to the foster parents and they don't know how to handle her. I think this case needs further investigation.”

Casey nodded, balancing a pencil between his fingers. “Danielle, maybe you could look into that. Before you leave.”

I thought of all the things I had to do. Before I left. I thought of the cases that I knew I wasn't going to have time to handle properly. I imagined them going to either Oden, or Henry or Annette, or any of the other workers. I glanced around the room, then at Casey.

“No,” I said, my voice crisp and no-nonsense. “I won't do it.”

Casey's eyes widened a fraction. “What do you mean?”

“I've got a full caseload. I'm not taking on any more.” I held his gaze, remembering a moment when I had gotten my brothers to do the dishes. I wasn't exactly “woman, hear me roar,” but professionally I had nothing to lose. I had another job waiting for me. As I held his shocked gaze, I couldn't stop the faint smile teasing my lips. “And while we're at it, I think you need to look at hiring at least two more caseworkers and getting rid of some of the dead wood around here.”

A gasp, a stifled cough and Casey's eyes got wider.

“You're out of line, Miss Hemstead.”

“Actually, I think I'm right on the line and you've been pushing me over it for the past seven months.” I held his gaze. “I was too concerned about doing my best job, about being indispensable and a good worker that I forgot one of the skills of being a good worker is the ability to say no. And for your sake, and mine, I'm saying it now. No. I'm not going to cover for Henry anymore. I'm not going to take the cases
that you don't want to give to the other workers because you know I'll say yes. I'm not going to work myself into a nervous breakdown while I keep hoping you'll see what I'm doing and tell me to slow down. Because you're not. The more I take on, the more you give me and, as I said, that's my own fault. I wanted to be a good social worker, to be needed and while that's a noble cause, I was going about it wrong. James was right. It's up to me and I'm saying
no.
”

This little speech would have been a good time to tell my fellow workers about my new job, but I didn't. It had been a week since Les had come to my house with the letter and in that time I still hadn't given Les or Dan a firm decision or turned in my resignation. James had moved off the yard, and I hadn't heard anything from him, either.

I was in limbo. Waiting for something. Maybe to figure out what the desires of my heart were, though I had a clearer idea of what they might be. I knew I couldn't expect some miraculous sign from God, but at the same time a quiet, still voice told me to wait. That hurry and worry are tools of the devil.

And now, facing Casey down, something grew and changed within me. I wasn't waiting for people around me to do what I wanted anymore. I wasn't waiting for them to pick up on clues. I was making myself very, very clear. I was woman, hear me say no.

“I hope you realize the ramifications of what you are doing,” Casey said.

“I have no idea what the ramifications are, Casey,” I said innocently. “Why don't you tell me?”

His face grew purple and the words A is for Airway, B is for Breathing, C is for Circulation flashed through my head.

But he kept breathing.

Then, to my complete amazement, Casey hunched over the files and glanced at Henry. “You might have to rethink your approach on this one,” was all he said.

I allowed myself a tiny smile of victory as I looked down at my case files. And behind that moment of victory slipped the thought, “why hadn't I done this before?”

Because I wasn't ready to let go of control and this desire to be needed. Because I was afraid.

I thought of James then. Thought of how he had pushed me to push my brothers. What he taught me with that. How he had showed me another side of God. Another way of seeing His power and strength.

A nudge of pain followed the memory of James. I hadn't heard from him in a week. In the evenings I joined my brothers and father, watching televised sports, so I could be close to the phone when it rang. But James didn't call and his silence hurt more than any pain I'd experienced before.

I heard the progress of the shop via my brothers. They were getting excited and James was getting some restoration business already. He would do well, they predicted. I heard that Robin had moved in with him
and that James was in the process of getting her a job. A good brother, I thought. A good man. A great guy.

My heart stuttered at the memory of him. How easily I could recollect his eyes, how they crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the hint of teasing in every smile, how his eyes got dark before he kissed me.

I missed him. I needed him.

My pen fell out of my hand at that thought and I glanced around to see if anyone else noticed my mind wandering but they were all intently taking notes. I glanced down at mine, and to my dismay noticed that I had scribed out the letter “J” in the margins of my notebook and embellished it. A wishful doodle? Or an internal signal that I would do well to pay attention to.

I struggled through my day, dealing competently with my cases, but I knew my mind wasn't fully engaged. I stayed only fifteen minutes longer, finishing up and when I left, my head aching from the indecision.

But as I put away the papers of my latest case I knew I wasn't going to be leaving. I was going to help Laurel through with her problems, I was going to stay involved with Stan and his family. I wasn't going to be leaving anyone in the lurch.

And I was going to find James and tell him how I felt. What would happen from there? That was up to the Lord.

I felt a clutch of fear and dread and as I walked to the car, I felt the exhilaration of the roller coaster
slowly peaking and heading down. Raindrops spittered on my windshield and I had to turn my wipers on, streaking the dust in wide, long smears. I knew I was out of windshield washer fluid and had forgotten to fill it up. On a whim I tried it anyway and, to my surprise, blue liquid streamed out of the wipers, creating a crystal clear arc of clean windshield. One of the boys must have filled it I thought. Guys. I took it as a positive sign and though my stomach was clenched in knots, I felt a lightness in my heart I hadn't felt for months.

Fifteen minutes later I turned down the road where James now lived. As the raindrops came down, I wondered if they'd gotten the leaky roof fixed.

James's truck wasn't parked in front of the house and my heart thudded with heavy disappointment. I didn't know what I was going to say to him, only that I wanted to see him again. To test these awkward feelings.

I was attracted to him. He was appealing on many levels. We had fun together. He made me mad. He hadn't been completely honest with me. We fought.

I missed him. I wanted to see him again. I loved him. There were those words again. And behind them came fear. What if he didn't feel the same? I almost turned the car around. But I had started this wild ride, and I was going to see it through to the end.

Then the front door of the house opened and there he was. My foot came off the accelerator and my mouth went dry.

James stood in the lee of his porch, then put his hands on his hips as I pulled into the yard. A classic guy pose that pushed my heart against its rib cage.

I parked the car, turned it off and slowly got out.

He didn't move.

“Hey, there,” I said, my voice shaky with nerves, with anticipation, with all the giddy things that girls feel when they see the guy they're thinking about. “Just thought I would stop by. See how Robin is doing.”

Now who's being the liar?

“She's not here. She's doing some grocery shopping.”

That's why his truck was gone.

“I see.” I folded my hands in front of me—a schoolgirl pose—and tapped my thumbs together, stuck for what to say next. I was getting damp but didn't want to get back in the car and didn't feel right in asking to go into James's house.

“When do you leave for your city job?” He took a few steps nearer to my car.

“I'm not going.” I gave him a wavery smile and took a step closer myself. Two adults playing “Mother, May I” as rain spittered down. Except without the cumbersome asking.

“I thought you had everything all planned.”

“I thought I did, too.” I swallowed, took another step closer. I was starting to get wet but couldn't stop this now. “I, well, didn't count on other things happening.”