Tender Love (6 page)

He reached out and squeezed her hand as she lowered it from his face. “The darkness has lifted a lot in the past three weeks,” he said meaningfully.

 

On their way home from the camp, Mark was unusually quiet. Alice chose to sit in the back seat to give Kristin an opportunity to talk to her father, but eventually both Eddie and Kristin went to sleep. Alice made no effort to engage Mark in conversation, for she suspected he was wrestling with God much as Jacob in the Old Testament had done when he ran away from his brother's wrath. If Mark Tanner had been the powerful voice for God that so many people believed he was, then God wasn't going to release this man from the vows of service he'd taken without a mighty struggle. While Mark struggled, Alice prayed that God would once again bring peace to Mark's heart, inspire him to accept a renewed call to ministry, and that his financial burden would be eased.

Alice believed that God often expected an individual to put wings to her own prayers. Only God could
help Mark with his spiritual needs, but she had the means to alleviate Mark's financial burden.
Was it the right thing to do?
She couldn't decide.

When Mark turned into his driveway, Kristin stirred as the garage door lifted and the light came on, but Eddie still slept soundly. Mark cast a fond look at his son. “Don't waken him,” he said. “I'll carry him upstairs and put him to bed.”

“I'll take care of Kristin.”

Later, they met in the upstairs hallway after the children were in bed.

“It seems we have a little matter of ten dollars to discuss,” he said, but his light tone indicated he wasn't angry about it.

“There isn't anything to discuss. I have an income from my late husband, and it didn't hurt me to help Kristin. I've been to camp, and I know how fast spending money disappears.” He paused at his bedroom, his hand on the door, and she said, “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Alice. I enjoyed your company this evening.”

She didn't answer—she couldn't.

 

“I'm going to church this morning,” Alice announced as the Tanners enjoyed a leisurely breakfast on Sunday. “Anyone interested in going with me?”

“I want to go,” Kristin said. “They taught us in camp that if we don't go to church, we forget the important things in life.”

“I'm planning on going to Tyler Memorial—that's where my friend Betty attends.”

“That's where I want to go,” Kristin said excit
edly. “It's Susie's church. Daddy, why don't you go with us?”

“Not today, honey. Eddie is still tired from his trip to camp.”

Determined not to pressure Mark and allow the Holy Spirit to do His work in Mark's heart, Alice turned to Gran. “What about you?”

“I don't know,” she said hesitantly. “I'm pretty slow getting in and out of the car.”

“Then we'll start early and attend the second service. Kristin will be in Sunday school while we're at worship.” She turned to Mark. “If we allow a half hour, will that be enough time?”

“Yes, I should think so.” He was busily buttering his toast and wouldn't look at her.

“All right, everybody who wants to go to church, be ready in an hour.”

“I want to go, too,” Eddie said.

Mark looked at Alice then. “Do you want to bother with him? This is supposed to be your day off.”

“
Everybody
was included in my invitation. Besides, he isn't any bother. I know this is your day with the children, but they should be in Sunday school. I'll take the rest of the day off. I'm going swimming with Betty and her family this afternoon.”

 

Betty smiled broadly when she met Alice and her adopted family at the door of the church, and Alice frowned at her as she assisted Gran up the ramp constructed to the right of the steps.

“Can you find your class, Kristin, and will you take Eddie to his?”

“Yes. Come on, Eddie.” She grabbed her brother
by the hand and hustled him down the sidewalk to the large educational unit adjacent to the church.

An usher took Gran's arm and assisted her to one of the front pews where facilities were available for worshipers with hearing aids. “I'll sit with Betty, Gran—see you after worship.”

The organist's prelude mounted in crescendo, and under cover of the loud music, Betty said, “Couldn't get Mark to come, huh?”

“I didn't ask him directly, but I do think his conscience bothered him when the rest of us left.”

“I hope so,” Betty answered. “When I think of some of the sermons he preached to us on commitment, and made us feel lower than snakes because we weren't living up to our Christian potential, I long to have him squirm under the messages this minister is preaching. T'would do him good.”

Although Alice agreed with Betty to some extent, she didn't want to hear Mark criticized. “He's still hurting. We should pray for him, not find fault with him.”

Betty lifted her eyebrows, smiled broadly, and said, as the organist brought the prelude to a loud and reverberating conclusion, “Well! You
have
fallen in a big way!”

Alice flushed. “It's your fault—you shouldn't have sent me there.”

Throughout the worship service, Alice sensed Betty's amusement and heard her faint chuckles. It was annoying, and Alice had a half notion not to go swimming with her in the afternoon.

 

Monday morning, the phone rang, with a man asking for Mark. When Alice told him that Mark was at
work, he said, “Will you give him a message? I'm the financial administrator at the hospital, and we've learned that the insurance company will not pay anything on several of the statements we submitted for his wife's treatments.”

“Her death occurred months ago. Isn't that a long time for a decision?”

“Well, yes,” he said, “but I submitted the statements a second time, hoping they'd pay something. I'll mail the bills to Mr. Tanner, but I wanted him to know in advance.”

“How much do the bills total?” Alice asked, knowing well enough that she was interfering in something that wasn't her business.

“About eight thousand,” he said.

Poor Mark!

Mark seemed more weary than usual when he came home, and Alice put off telling him about the telephone message until Kristin and Eddie went to bed. She'd gone upstairs to check on the children, to be sure they were all right, and when she came downstairs, Mark sat in his office. His checkbook was open on the desk before him, and he was sorting through the day's mail.

She paused on the threshold, and he gave her an encouraging smile. Her expression must have warned him, for the smile faded, and he said, “Is something wrong with Eddie?”

She shook her head. “The kids are fine, but I did have a disturbing telephone call today.” She couldn't look at him as she told him the bad news. When she finished and glanced in his direction, his head was lowered to his hands.

“And I thought I was making some headway out
of this mess,” he mumbled. “Alice, I don't know what I'm going to do.”

Alice was of the opinion that he could cope with the situation better if he wasn't out of fellowship with God, but this was no time for a sermon. The man needed compassion now, and without stopping to think of the consequences, she rounded the desk, put an arm around his shoulders and massaged the tense muscles in his neck. “Remember the night is always darkest before the dawn,” she whispered. “You're a strong man, and you're going to overcome these problems.”

He moved to put his arm around her waist and draw her closer, but Alice gently released him.

“I'll be back in a few minutes,” she promised, as with misty eyes, she left the room and hurried to the kitchen. When she returned, she brought a steaming cup of tea. He still sat with his head in his hands.

She didn't touch him again, but she set the cup on the desk in front of him, saying softly, “I realize this is something you have to work out alone, but I want you to know that I hurt with you.”

Alice went to bed, but not to sleep, for she couldn't relax until about two o'clock when she heard him leave his office and slowly climb the stairs to his bedroom. What could she do to help him?

 

“Hello, Alice,” the cheery voice said when she answered the phone the next day. “This is Erin Saberton. Susie wants to come and play with Kristin this afternoon, and I have a boy about Eddie's age. Are you up to having four kids in the house for a few hours?”

“Sure, if you'll come along and help referee,” Al
ice said with a laugh. “We can have a cup of coffee while the children play.”

“I was hoping you'd ask. We'll be there at two o'clock.”

When they arrived, the children went into the family room to watch cartoons, and Alice took Erin to the kitchen.

“You can't imagine how happy I am to see this household back to some sense of normalcy. You've performed a miracle in a few weeks, Alice. I don't know how you've done it.”

“With a lot of prayer and patience,” Alice said, laughing, as she poured a cup of coffee for each of them and put a plate of banana nut bread on the table. “It hasn't been easy to be in a home with so many people, for I've lived alone for over a year.”

“You're a widow, I understand.”

Alice nodded. “But I feel that it's right for me to be here, and I believe I am making a difference. You know Betty St. Claire, don't you?”

“Yes, we're friends.”

“She's the one who asked me to take this on, and when she told me the need, I felt God calling me to do what I could.”

Erin nibbled on the banana bread and complimented Alice on her cooking abilities. “I assume you don't need to work.”

“That's true, but I'd appreciate it if you don't noise that around.”

Erin laughed. “Gotcha,” she said, and she lowered her voice. “Mark has needed someone to give him a helping hand for years, and I mean, even before his wife got sick. I know we're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but Clarice was never the kind
of wife he needed. She was completely self-centered, resented the time he spent with his parishioners, and expected him to assume more than his share of home responsibilities.”

Alice's face flushed, and she said, “I had no idea! Betty didn't say anything, and I assumed that all was well here before Clarice's illness.”

Erin shook her head. “Mark is such a giving person—as a pastor, there was never any request too insignificant for him to give his full attention. So when he came home, he needed a wife to love and pamper him, not one who acted like a martyr because he'd been out all day doing his job.”

Alice didn't want to hear anymore, and she was glad when Kristin stuck her head in the kitchen door and said, “We're bored. What can we do?”

Alice stood and cleared the dishes from the table. “It's too nice a day to spend indoors. Why don't we all go outside? If you're up to it, Erin, we might play softball with the kids. I found a ball and bat in one of the closets.”

“Probably the ones that Mark used when he coached our Little League team at the church.”

Erin's son, Troy, was boisterous and loud, and he intimidated Eddie, who hesitated to leave the house.

“I don't know how to play ball,” he said, reverting to his whiny voice that Alice hadn't heard for a couple of weeks.

“We'll show you,” Troy said. He grabbed Eddie's hand. “Come on.”

Eddie pulled back, but Alice said, “This will be fun, Eddie.”

“I want to ride horses, not play ball.”

An idea had been forming in Alice's mind about
his fixation on horses, but she couldn't do anything about that this afternoon. Alice lifted Eddie, carried him down the steps, and set him on the ground.

Shortly, they had a game underway with Erin playing on the side of the Tanners, and Alice paired with Susie and Troy. Although timid at first, Eddie soon began to enjoy the game, until Troy hit a ball with a lot of power. The ball went straight toward Eddie, who stared at the ball, mesmerized. He didn't move, and it hit him in the stomach—hard. Eddie toppled over like a felled tree.

Alice ran to Eddie, her heart thumping big time. “Is he dead, Alice?” Kristin screamed, and at that inopportune time, Ethel Pennington walked into the backyard.

“What's going on here?”

Alice ignored her as she checked Eddie's pounding pulse, but it wasn't more rapid than was normal for the activity he'd experienced.

“What's going on here?” Ethel repeated, and Kristin answered.

“Alice made Eddie play ball, and he got hit in the belly. He might be dead.”

Ethel tried to crowd in through the excited children, but Erin outmaneuvered her and knelt on the other side of Eddie, who was already stirring.

“He had the breath knocked out of him,” Erin said.

“That's all.”

“That's all!” Ethel said shrilly. “He's such a delicate child—he could have been killed.”

Eddie's face was white when Alice helped him to his feet. Looking from one to the other of the con
cerned faces around him, he wheezed, “What happened?”

“The ball hit you in the belly,” Troy shouted, “and knocked the wind out of you. I didn't know you were such a sissy, or I wouldn't have hit the ball so hard.”

“Hush, Troy,” his mother said.

“You come with me, Eddie,” Ethel said, taking his arm. “I'm going to put you to bed.”

Alice slumped down in one of the lawn chairs, and didn't make any effort to resist Ethel. “There's some banana bread and lemonade ready in the kitchen, Kristin. You serve some to your friends. Erin and I will be in soon.”

“Don't let this bother you, Alice. No harm was done,” Erin said. “It isn't unusual for children to be hurt when they're playing.”