Mom in the Middle (14 page)

She risked a step forward, expecting to sink into soggy soil. But the ground beneath her feet held firm, completely dry, as if the soaking rains had never touched this quarter acre of Texas. In the center of the playground Casey worked atop a tall ladder, her back to the new arrivals, unaware of their presence. She sang with gusto, unconscious or unconcerned for the screeching quality of her voice. She fished a tool from the leather belt fastened low around her hips and tightened the chain for the swing dangling before her.

Abby moved closer, noted the gleaming paint on each refurbished piece of equipment, the benches restored with new planks rubbed to a smooth finish, the colorful walkway laid of mix-and-match tiles
that led to an arbor-covered sandbox complete with an artist's backdrop of blue skies, fluffy white clouds and a floating castle.

A lot of effort had been expended in the past couple of days. A lot of effort. Almost everything she'd intended to do had been completed. There was hardly anything left for her to work on.

As with the day Guy had materialized at her home and taken over the things she and her dad had planned to accomplish together, she felt loss well up and sting her eyes. She was unnecessary. Redundant. Replaced. How could she ever claim this small plot of land as a tribute to her husband? Her plan had been followed to the T but her fingerprints were absent from the finished product.

“Rebecca Thelma Casey,” Guy called above the fans and his baby sister's singing. “You never cease to amaze me, girl.”

She turned a wide smile on her brother, dropped without fear off the tall stepladder and strode their way, her arms outstretched to fold Abby into a hug.

“It's about time you got here,” she teased. “I'm badly in need of your expert guidance. I managed to keep the place from floating away, and I got all the little things done, but now it's time to talk about the sculpture garden and how you want the area around the pecan tree to shape up.

“Well?” She kept one arm snug around Abby's shoulders as they turned a slow circle together, surveying the results of her hard work. Then she wisely
left Abby to consider a response, snatching up Dillon and playfully jiggling him into a fit of happy shrieks.

Guy moved close, put a warm hand on the small of Abby's back. “So, what do you think?”

She lowered her voice and turned away from Casey's hearing. “At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I think your extremely efficient little sister has just managed me out of my own project.”

“Ahhhhh.” He nodded, understanding. “That's another family curse. We don't just help out. We take over. Casey's still gotta learn how to temper that tendency but thankfully I've mastered it.”

Abby spewed laughter, loud, unexpected and uncontrolled. She leaned forward from the waist, rested her hands on her knees and gave in to the irony of his ridiculous claim. Casey had called it on the nose when she'd said her brother had a savior complex. Yeah, that was it, aptly put for sure!

“Oh, that's the best laugh I've had in weeks.”

He pushed his lips into an exaggerated pout. “I beg your pardon. Is that your way of saying you disagree?”

“That's my way of saying you're sadly mistaken if you believe for one minute that you've mastered your need to do extreme favors that rescue damsels in distress.”

His mouth pressed into a flat line. “Hmmmm, I guess you could have something there. But I'm not as bad as I used to be. I have made progress, I know I have.”

“You mean the way you've helped out with our
house and practically become a member of my family is pulling back on the stick for you?”

“Okay, okay, you've made your point.” He held his palms up, warding off any further dispute.

“What are you two muttering about over here?” Casey had joined them with Dillon settled on her slender hip. He was more than happy to be in the arms of the woman who showered his blond head with soft kisses and goosed him in the back producing involuntary giggles.

“Your brother was giving me the family history on getting carried away with good deeds to the point of taking over. He seems to think he has that trait under control.”

Oddly, Casey didn't crack up at the notion as Abby had. Instead she looked hard at Guy and nodded. “I think he has, actually. Compared to circumstances in the past where he ingratiated himself so quickly and thoroughly that ladies tried to drag him to the altar, I'd say he's come a long way.” She looped her free arm through Guy's, pulled him close and their stunning blue eyes locked. “He's much better about stating his intentions up front and sticking with them for the sake of the family. Aren't you, bro?”

“I have a way to go, that's for sure, but I try not to focus so hard on the goal that I lose perspective on how I get there.”

“Well said.” Casey nodded her head then turned to Abby. “And while we're on this subject, I hope you aren't offended that I took so much liberty here. But
I knew your time was running out and this weather would probably stop you in your tracks. We've had a similar situation during minor construction in the past and I knew this would work. So, I called in the cavalry before the weather set in, put up the tent and went to work.”

“You could have called me, too. I've been shut in the house for the past couple of days when I could have been helping.”

“Yeah, and instead of looking rested and beautiful, which really annoys me by the way,” Casey complimented Abby with a wink, “and being caught up with those stacks of school papers Guy says you always have, you'd be worn to a frazzle and wouldn't have enough stamina left to get through the rest of this deal.”

“She makes a good point,” Guy agreed with Casey.

“As usual,” she added, complimenting herself.

Guy stepped away from his sister, took Abby by the elbow and guided her to the small pecan tree surrounded by a low white fence.

“Now, as she said, Casey's left a number of important decisions and details for you alone. So why don't you tell us what you had in mind for right here.”

Abby stared at the sapling. Tried to conjure up Phillip's picture in her mind's eye. Nothing. Nothing would come. How could she have been his constant companion and not be able to envision him standing before her now? She looked at Dillon. At this age there were no signs of Phillip in their son's features.

She squeezed her eyes tight, dropped her chin to her chest and tried to recall the most simple of Kodak moments in their lives; the senior prom, their wedding day, the first time she saw him in uniform. She could see the backdrops, the colors of their clothes and her own happy face. But Phillip's was a blur.

The tears flowed, seeped through her lashes and trickled down her face. A slow dribble became a rush of emotion. She struggled to hold back the sobs but the force of the release shook her body. A strong arm settled gently around her shoulders, turned her slowly, pressed her to a solid chest. In the comfort of Guy's embrace she crumbled, but he held her secure, pressed her to him for warmth, for strength.

He let her cry.

 

Guy pulled Abby tight against him, listened to her heart breaking and felt his crumble right along with it. And as his insides ached, he prayed.

Father, even in death he's still her husband. She loves him with all her might. How much more obvious can it be that there's no room in her life for another man. No room in her heart for me.

P
ossibly for the first time in his thirty-eight years, Guy didn't have a single clue as to how to handle a situation involving a female. But then the woman in his arms was someone he'd never expected to find. Hadn't even
wanted
to find. And now, in God's perfect and ironic timing, here she was. Pressed close in her grief, oblivious to the wild drumming in Guy's chest, so great was the emptiness, the loss she still mourned.

Abby Cramer was faithful. She was loyal. She was true. She was a woman he knew he could love.

Could love? Correction. Loved.

Loved with his mind, body and soul.

He'd spent his entire life dating women easy to get over. He didn't want to get over Abby.

The realization should have stunned him. It was so far off the mark that it should have left him breathless with anxiety. It was such a departure from his life plan that he should have collapsed inward upon
himself, no stronger than the sweet girl he cradled against his breast.

Instead there was an intense joy he'd never expected to know mingled with an unbelievable pain he'd intentionally avoided. The discord of feelings surged through his veins, pounded with his pulse. He bent low, folded Abby closer, pressed his face to her hair and murmured soothing words.

She lifted her head, tilted it back, allowing him to see the unbelievable depth of the sorrow in her eyes. He wanted to kiss away the sadness, tell her he'd chase away the tears as far as the east is from the west. Make her smile again one day if she'd only have him.

“I'm sorry,” she choked on the whispered words. “Before Phillip died, I had no inkling loss could hurt physically, be so brutal. This is like a terminal disease with no hope of relief. I couldn't bear to go through this again. Ever.”

Guy had some small measure of understanding. The woman he'd only just discovered he loved was telling him her heartbreak was permanent. She would never risk loving again.

Did he merely accept what she believed couldn't be changed, or did he gamble everything to prove her wrong?

Father use me. If it's Your will, make me an instrument of Your love. Shower tender mercies on Abby through me.

“I hate to disturb you two because I can see something private is going on over there, but it feels like
Mansfield Dam just broke in this kid's shorts.” Casey spoke from a respectful distance, both humor and concern laced her voice. “If we don't get him changed soon, all the effort I made the last three days to keep the flooding off this plot of land is all for naught.”

Abby passed her palms over her face, swiping away the telltale trails of the emotional encounter, and stepped around Guy to reach for her son.

“Here, give him to me.”

“I'll get his bag from the truck,” Guy offered.

Casey handed Dillon over carefully so as not to disturb his diaper. Abby slung him over her hip without concern and headed toward the far side of the tent.

“I'll take him into the ladies' room in the church narthex. There's a changing table just inside the door.”

“Sure thing. I'll knock and hand the bag through to you.” He watched the mother and child that he wanted to claim for his own disappear from his sight, then turned to his errand.

“Man, you are tore up from the floor up, bro.”

He didn't have to look at her face to know Casey wore a big smile. Neither did he need to ask what she meant.

Simply put, he was in a world of trouble.

 

Saturday morning dawned as different from the rest of the week as Texas is from the polar ice cap. The springtime sun shot into the crystal-blue skies over Austin, pulling steamy rays of heat from the pavement, mirages shimmering through wavy lines.

Abby had accepted weeks ago that Guy was a man who wouldn't take no for an answer. It wasn't that he was pushy or controlling, just determined when it came to doing something he knew would make life easier for another person. So when he'd insisted on accompanying the family to the rehab center to start the day's outing, Abby had agreed without argument. He was actually an answer to prayer. She'd struggled with the logistics of how she'd manage her son and both parents at the same time. Having them together under their own roof after her mom was released was going to be difficult enough. Taking them all on a picnic outing for the first time was probably more than she could handle by herself without some practice.

Her folks would be mortified at her true feelings but the childhood home where she'd once been nurtured and comforted had become a place filled with anxiety and unexpected stressors. She was on her own, the caregiver for a demanding three where she'd once been the mother to a precious one. She'd heard about the sandwich generation, but weren't they supposed to be the fifty-something baby boomers? Those decades-older people who found themselves taking care of aging parents as they prepared for retirement. At this rate she'd never make it that far; she'd collapse under the weight of responsibility before she ever made it to thirty, much less her golden years.

“He's here!” her dad shouted from the sentry position he'd taken by the front window. “Let's go!”

He'd been giddy as a groom since Guy had hatched his plan. The idea of breaking their patient out of the center for the day had her dad more revved up than a Formula One pace car.

“Are you sure we're not putting your mother's final release from rehab at risk?”

Abby opened the front door and waited for Guy, her belly swarming with nervous jitters at his approach.

“Dad, if there was any chance of that, we wouldn't be doing this. Dr. Cabot assured me this would be a well-deserved reward for Mom after all her physical therapy as well as good training for us on how we'll need to help her when she comes home.”

“Everybody ready?” The man who'd unknowingly won her heart took the front steps in one leap and reached for the screen-door handle.

“Been ready since first light. What took you so long, Roy Rogers?” Shorty groused.

But her dad's voice was charged with a new energy. She half expected him to get up out of his chair and make the trip out to the van under his own steam. The excitement over an entire day with the woman he treasured above all else was an aura surrounding him, a glow that pulsed with the very beat of his heart.

Oh, Father, will there ever again be a man in my life who feels that way about me?

“Good morning to you, too, Shorty,” Guy laughed, picking up on the fact that the still-grouchy tone was for show only. “Let's get everybody loaded up and
then I thought we'd take the scenic route, maybe drive around the campus a few times and see if we can't find a traffic jam or some roadwork.”

Her dad made a fist, squinted and tried his best to look menacing. “You delay picking up my Sarah by as much as five minutes and I'll put a knot in the middle of that bald spot on your noggin.”

Guy's eyes grew round with exaggerated fear. “Abby, I sure hope you and Dillon are ready. I'm prepared for any eventuality with the Admiral and the Warden being in the same place at the same time but I hadn't factored Evander Holyfield into the mix. Let's not risk it, okay?”

The quick wink and his confident smile telegraphed so much: conspiracy, fun, understanding and something else she was almost afraid to name. It was as if he'd asked to carry the heavy load today, to take on some of her responsibility.

To be trusted with her precious burdens.

She loved Guy Hardy. And in the wink of that charming blue eye, she made a decision. The man could never return her feelings, didn't want to. But just for today she would pretend, if only for a short while, that he was the rock she'd never known, might never have. She'd let him be her savior today, accepting that he'd been sent as a blessing by her heavenly Savior, if only for the short term.

 

“How on earth did you manage to pull this off?”

Abby strolled the covered section of the Expo
Center grounds with Guy and hundreds of others as they meandered through acres of games, crafts and activities designed to offer a challenging distraction at every age and ability level. Dillon had been eager to go to Casey when she'd met them at the handicapped parking area and immediately insisted on seeing to Sarah and Shorty's barbecue lunch.

“I won't discount the fact that having money to invest in the community buys a lot of cooperation from local officials who struggle with dwindling budgets and legal handcuffs.” He reluctantly admitted this, the furrows between his brows further telegraphing what must have been a significant figure to produce the results his employees were enjoying. “But we've been working on this event since our initial groundbreaking.”

“This has been in the works all those months?” Abby sipped refreshing pink lemonade and marveled at the wisdom of Hearth and Home for including employee recognition in their long-range planning.

“Sure. We won't turn a shovel of dirt in Galveston for three more months but I've already got Casey looking into sites for our first appreciation event.”

Guy's mention of Galveston turned the sweet drink as bitter as bile in her mouth. Once again the rush of reality swept her thinking, making it nearly impossible to imagine for even a day that anything lasting could happen between them. The man who was the rock of her daydream would soon shift and disappear, no different than sand beneath the constant tide.

She had to think of something else or risk pouting like a preteen the rest of the day. With Guy close behind, she left the stream of foot traffic in search of some quiet. At the periphery of the fairgrounds they stopped at a private spot and leaned comfortably against a whitewashed corral-style fence.

“You said Casey is doing that event planning. I thought you coordinated everything until the store was ready to turn over to her?”

“That's always been true in the past, but little sister has too much time on her hands right now so I'm loading her up with some agreement negotiations and construction licenses. That's a little outside of her area of responsibility but the girl's never known a boundary in her life. Challenging her to stretch a bit is like asking Lance Armstrong if he minds cycling an extra mile.”

“Is everybody in your family as competitive as you two?” She was glad for the shift in conversation, needed time to push past the thought of Guy's imminent departure from Austin.

From her life.

Guy paused for a moment, then answered.

“All the girls are extremely goal-oriented but that's part of our family culture. Casey is another matter altogether.” He smiled at the understatement. “She came out of the gate looking for a challenge. Since the day she won her first spelling bee she has refused to let the eight-year difference between us be an excuse not to best me. When I got my MBA she
was still in high school, but she was already warning me she'd go me one better so Dad would know there was nothing magical about being a man that uniquely qualified me to step into the CEO role. She got her master black belt in Six Sigma while she was still in college, believing that would be her springboard into an executive position.”

“And was she right?”

“Of course! Now she's got some wild ideas about revolutionizing our corporate security system. Why else do you think she keeps sneaking into our new stores trying to trip me up? It drives me nuts!”

“Even so, it's obvious how much you love your sister.”

“Oh, it goes beyond family ties. I think I respect her as much as I love her.”

“I guess Casey's brand of steamroller drive and talent are what you find most attractive in a woman, right?”

He took the sweating cup of melting ice cubes from her hand and balanced it atop a fence post. Then he reached for her hand, turned her to face him and leaned down so she would hear his quiet voice over the noise level of the open-sided tents in the distance.

“There was a time when that might have been an accurate statement. But as my faith walk has grown, I've prayed for the wisdom to look past outward signs, outward efforts and instead see the good deep inside people. That's why the geodes mean so much to me. They are a tangible symbol of God's buried
treasure in each of us. They remind me that I'm blessed to be a blessing to others.”

“And ‘others' just happens to be women more often than not?”

“Ouch!” He clutched his chest, pulled an imaginary dagger from his heart. “I see Casey's been talking while she works.”

“Oh, as if Daddy hasn't given you color commentary on every major event in my life.”

Guy chuckled. “I admit I've probably heard more about your school years that I have a right to know. But Shorty is so proud of you, he can't help bragging a little.”

“If I didn't know better I'd think my dad and your sister have conspired against us. They both seem to be working overtime, turning up the heat with stories designed to make each of us hightail it the other way.”

 

Guy watched with fascination, mesmerized as Abby shoved curls back from her forehead and swiped either cheek where rosy, warm skin was responding to the sultry day. She puffed breath upward, reached behind her head, twisted her hair into a knot and held it off her neck.

“Speaking of heat…” He dipped his hand into the cup of melting ice, withdrew a chilly chunk and held it up between thumb and forefinger. “I have just the thing to cool you off.” He knew his grin gave away his intentions.

Her gaze flicked left to right, presumably for an
avenue of escape. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary.” She held her palms out.

“Oh, but I think it will be,” he threatened, inching closer.

“You wouldn't dare.” She sounded tough, but took a step away just in case, not so sure he wouldn't follow through.

He lowered his voice, growled from his throat.

“Don't tempt me, pretty lady. Back home I'm known as the Snowman for good reason. No sister ever escaped a winter assault or a summer meltdown!”