Tender Vow (28 page)

Sharing the responsibility of transportation with the other mothers also offered her the opportunity to stay at home some days, freeing her to complete a few household tasks while her daughter was in school and Johnny napped. And she had even more time to herself and for Johnny when Meagan started attending class four times a week instead of three. Her teacher, Mrs. Beasley, had identified her as a precocious, fast-learning, outgoing student, and she’d suggested the expanded schedule as a way to provide more stimulating opportunities. Already Meagan had begun associating letters and numbers, and the extra day allowed the teacher more time for individual support. At first, Rachel hadn’t welcomed the idea, not wishing to push her daughter unnecessarily. But, when Allie Ferguson had encouraged her, claiming Meagan needed to be challenged, she’d gone along with it.

Another change came about when Allie and Rachel joined a women’s Bible study at church. Feeling ready to branch out, Rachel had decided to leave the grief group, which met on the same night as the Bible study. Weeks ago, she hadn’t been prepared to leave the grief group behind and launch into a study where most of the women were happily married, save for a few divorcées, older widows, and happy-to-be single ladies. But, since then, something had helped her turn the corner on her insecurities and fears. Maybe it was the realization that she’d made it through the year of “firsts” without John and survived. Regardless of the reason, it felt as if day by day, sometimes even moment by moment, she was gaining back a tiny portion of her identity, discovering afresh who she was apart from her husband and coming to believe that perhaps—just perhaps—she would make it through her second year of widowhood, as well.

The Bible study focused on living a Christ-centered life. It involved daily readings, which forced Rachel to be more disciplined about delving into God’s Word routinely. As a result, she began to develop a closer walk with the Lord. She enjoyed making new friendships and reading her Bible, the one Jason had given her for Christmas. Life held so many uncertainties, but, lately, she’d been more aware than ever of God’s faithful love and unfailing grace. Yes, she still battled loneliness, but she’d been learning some new methods to pull herself more quickly out of the depths of despair.

Though she shouldn’t have expected it or even hoped for it, she’d been almost certain that Jason would have called her by now. But then, maybe he’d been waiting for her to make the first move. Things between them were shaky at best. On New Year’s Day, when he’d told her he was ready to cool things for a while, he’d had a certain air of aloofness about him. Even now, she couldn’t be sure how to interpret his rationale. Had he intended it to be a final good-bye, a “Never mind; I didn’t mean it when I said I loved you”?

She couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him on a regular basis, even if that would contradict what she’d asked of him. But even Meagan had started noticing his absence, inquiring as to when he planned to come again—and asking if she could call him. Of course, Rachel had denied her request, fearing Jason might think the idea had been hers. Oh, the whole matter threw her into a state of perplexity. On the one hand, she wanted to see him, and on the other, she knew doing so might encourage the profound feelings of affection she refused to admit even existed. Besides, how could she allow her heart to entertain so deep a feeling when she’d already decided that doing so would dishonor her husband’s memory?

Then came a Friday afternoon in early February. Rachel had just picked up Meagan and three other four-year-olds from preschool and made the rounds to their respective homes. Between them and Johnny, the car had been abuzz with childish chatter, giggles, and something close to mayhem. Now, the quietness of home was a welcome and pleasant relief, despite Meaggie’s ongoing drivel and Johnny’s constant whining. His lunch was over, and she had only to change his diaper and put him down for his nap.

“And then, Miss Beasley said that I could have a treat, ’cause I was the one who had the bestest writing,” Meagan said, running into Rachel’s back end when she bent to retrieve the baby’s stuffed lion and toss it into the toy bin.

“
Mrs.
Beasley,” Rachel corrected her gently. “She’s married, remember? So, you had good handwriting today?”

“The bestest in the class.”

“The best.”

“I know.”

“What else happened today?” she asked, trying to be attentive, even though she had dinner to plan, Bible study reading to finish, and vacuuming to do. She bent to pick up another toy.

“Nothing. Oh, ’cept Robert, that loud boy, made a face at me today. Miss—uh,
Mrs.
Beasley says it’s because he likes me. Blech!” Meagan screwed up her mouth in a comical way, and Rachel couldn’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go upstairs so I can change dirty-diaper boy. You can keep talking.” Rachel swept her son into her arms and headed for the stairs, Meagan scampering ahead of her.

“So, this Robert,” Rachel said in the nursery while removing Johnny’s diaper and wincing at the odor. “Besides liking you, as Mrs. Beasley says, what other reason might he have had for making a face at you?”

“I dunno. Maybe ’cause I did a little squiggly line with my crayon on his paper.”

She glanced down at Meagan while wiping Johnny’s bottom. “Meagan Joy, that wasn’t nice. Why would you do that?”

“Well, he wouldn’t share the paste, which Miss Beasley said he had to do. He’s a meanie, Mother, so I accidentally made that purple line.”

Mother?
Rachel arched one eyebrow. “Accidentally, huh? Well, after this, you treat his property with respect. If you have a problem, talk to Mrs. Beasley. And what’s with this ‘Mother’ stuff? You’ve never called me that before.”

“That’s what Merline Thompson calls her mommy. She always says, ‘Mother lets me watch the Disney channel until eight o’clock every night’ and ‘Mother works for the dentist’ and ‘Mother makes me peanut butter and jelly sammiches whenever I want them,’ and stuff like that. Merline wears very pretty dresses every day, Mother, and a diamond necklace that sparkles real nice all the way across the room.”

“Oh, really?” Rachel stifled a snicker. “Well, I’m sure they’re not real diamonds.”

“Merline told me she took that necklace right out of her mother’s jewelry box. Do you have a diamond necklace I could wear? Also, I want to wear a dress next time. Like maybe that red velvet one I weared on Christmas day? Can I, Mother?”

“We’ll see.”

“That way, Merline won’t be the prettiest girl in school all the time.”

“Oh, my goodness, Meaggie. You shouldn’t be worried about such things at four years of age—or at any age, for that matter.”

“Know how many months till I’m five?” Meagan asked, changing the subject. As usual, Rachel could barely keep up with the child’s nonstop chatter.

“Well, let’s see here,” she said, securing a new diaper on Johnny as he kicked and flailed, waving his arms and nearly smacking her in the chin with his cast.

“February, March, April, May, June, July!” Meagan recited, using her fingers to count off the months. “That’s”—she studied her hand—“one, two, three, four, five, six months!”

“Since when do you know the months of the year?” Rachel asked, pulling up the baby’s pants and lifting him into her arms. How heavy he’d gotten! His cast didn’t help matters, she supposed. Two more weeks, and the thing could come off, providing the X-rays indicated the arm had healed enough.

“Mrs. Beasley shows us that number thing every day what gots all the months on it and so today I just decided I was goin’ to learn the months by my heart.”

“Just like that?” Perhaps her daughter could be termed precocious after all.

“Yep, just like that!” She started reciting them in order in a singsong fashion while Rachel kissed Johnny on the cheek and laid him in his crib, covering him with his favorite blanket and then popping his pacifier into his mouth. Despite Meagan’s racket, his eyes were heavy.

“Okay, nice job,” Rachel whispered, putting a finger to her lips, “but now, we have to be quiet. Come on.” She guided the chatterbox out of the room and closed the door behind them. “Time for lunch, then a nap for you, as well.”

“Aww, when do I get to stop taking naps?” she asked with a groan.

“Oh, when you’re about ten or so,” Rachel teased, urging her toward the stairs.

“Huh?”

“Shh, come on.”

Meagan talked all through lunch, taking intermittent slurps of chicken noodle soup and munching on her crackers, and Rachel would have missed the light tapping sound on the living room window if her daughter hadn’t finally paused long enough to take a drink of milk.

Thinking a bird or a squirrel was responsible for the noise, she peeked around the corner and nearly fell over at the sight of Jason peering through the glass.

She rushed to the front door and threw it open wide. “What are you doing knocking on my window?”

He looked only a little sheepish and a whole lot handsome in his leather bomber jacket and the scarf and gloves she’d bought him for Christmas. His dark eyes made her dizzy, and she had to hang tightly to the door to maintain her balance and composure as he picked his way through the shrubbery on his way to the front step. A swath of dark hair fell across his forehead, and he swept it back before setting his gaze on her.

“Didn’t want to ring the doorbell since I figured it might be naptime. Is it?” He looked over her shoulder, and his expression brightened as Meagan raced out from the kitchen, her footsteps pounding on the floor as she flew past Rachel and made a giant leap into Jason’s arms, yipping like an overexuberant pup. How Rachel admired her daughter for her total lack of abandon when it came to seeing her uncle—the way she allowed her face to glimmer with excitement, her voice to peal with unadulterated glee, and her arms to hug his neck so tightly his face turned purplish from all the squeezing. Rachel stepped back to watch the mutual adoration with something close to envy, folding her arms for lack of anything else to do with them.

“Hi, muffin,” he said, hardly paying Rachel any mind. He seemed to have a dozen different endearments for Meagan. “Oh, hi, Rach,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “I tried to call first, but you didn’t answer.”

“My phone’s been on the fritz; the telephone company’s doing some line repairs. And I’m afraid my cell phone battery died. It’s recharging as we speak.”

“Ah. Well, that explains it, then. I guess you didn’t check your e-mail, either. I sent you a message this morning.”

“Oh, I’m way behind on my correspondence.” Shoot! She was beginning to sound like a dunce. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” She noticed how Meagan refused to let go of his neck, her skinny legs wrapped tightly around his middle.

“Um, come in. Pardon my manners.” He stepped inside and closed the door with his back. She could barely stop watching him.

“I’ve been over at my folks’ house helping my dad with a few repairs. He took the day off when he found out I was coming. Work’s been a little slow for me the past couple weeks. Winter, you know—hard to build in the snow.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s how it is in construction. So, what were you doing—at your parents’ house, that is?”

“Just some minor things,” he said, his eyes falling briefly on her before glancing around the room. Was it that hard for him to look at her? “Repairing a leaky faucet, fixing a drip in a pipe under the sink—Dad hates plumbing—figuring out why their TV’s been cutting in and out, changing out some stained ceiling tiles in the basement, replacing some old wall plugs, and fixing Mom’s clothes dryer. Stuff like that.”

What can’t he do?
Rachel wondered, realizing that John probably would have hired someone for every one of those problems. “I’m glad to hear your dad’s accepting your help.”

“Ha! He’s still a stubborn fool, but Mom recruited me, and Dad’s been pretty good about it.”

“So, things are…better.”

He tipped his head slightly, and there went that shank of black hair again. Oh, she had to fight the urge to set it back in place. “I’d say we’re making headway, Dad and me.”

And what about you and me?
Of course, she kept that nagging question to herself and shifted her weight from one stockinged foot to the other, wishing she could think of something brilliant to say.

His gaze moved to the stairs. “I suppose Johnny’s sleeping.”

She nodded and patted Meagan on the back. “And this one’s next.”

He gave a slight wince. “Would you mind if I took her for a quick walk or something first? I’ve missed the little rascal. Johnny, too, of course.”

“Yes, yes! Please, Mommy?”
No “Mother” this time
, Rachel observed. She also noticed how Jason hadn’t mentioned her among those he’d missed. Had he finally accepted her need for time and space? Maybe he’d given up the notion that he loved her. She had accused him of loving her out of a sense of guilt and duty. Perhaps he’d come to believe it himself, now that he’d been keeping his distance, neglecting even to phone her. The possibility did little to comfort her.

“I—I guess that would be fine,” she finally acquiesced. The afternoon was sunny and mild for February.

“Yeah!” Meagan exclaimed, wriggling down. “I’ll go get my coat.” She raced off toward the mudroom.

In her daughter’s absence, a feeling of awkwardness and insecurity came over Rachel. “You been all right?” Jason asked, his tone husky. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, very well.” She wanted him to think of her as being fully independent now. “Actually, I dropped out of the grief group and joined a women’s Bible study with Allie.”

“Really?” He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. You felt ready to leave the grief group, did you?”

“Yes,” she said with conviction, even though her breath was shaky. “What about you? Are you still attending your group?”

“I haven’t gone in a while, either. I’m—handling things pretty well.”

“Oh, good.”

They both tilted their heads at each other, she assessing his expression, looking for signs of emotional healing, and he looking like he might be doing the same thing. Nothing more was said, though, for Meagan came bounding back into the foyer armed with her winter gear.