Tender Vow (33 page)

Where had that come from? One moment, he was writing about money, and the next, he brought his brother into the picture. So, even before they’d argued, he’d battled insecurities about her feelings for Jason? If only she’d known, she could have reassured him of her love and fidelity. Why hadn’t she ever picked up on it? Anger at the whole situation welled up inside her, the result of realizing he hadn’t fully trusted her. What more could she have done to convince him that she loved him? Hadn’t she always been faithful and loyal to him, telling him she loved him, tending to his needs, and having his children? She swallowed a sob and scanned the next two entries.

November 15

Tough day at work. At my annual review, Phil said I have to step up production or I’m liable to lose my end-of-the-year bonus. I knew I wasn’t quite up to par, but it’s been tough getting new clients. The economy has put a stranglehold on sales. Of course, Phil doesn’t care what’s happening elsewhere; he just wants my job. I feel it. The truth is, I overheard him telling Ray he’d like to hire his nephew this fall. So, where does that leave me? Lord, I’ve been feeling desperate lately. Please help me trust You more.

November 18

Rachel and I had a huge fight yesterday. I should have known better than to bring up the whole money business. Just as I figured, she didn’t take it well. I’m sure I said some harmful things about her spending habits, even implying that she’d gained too much weight to wear a certain dress. Sheesh, what’s wrong with me? You don’t mention anything about weight to a pregnant woman.

Bitter, hateful words passed between us, and before I knew it, she was confessing to kissing my brother just days before we married! What?! Why would she tell me something like that unless she intended to hurt me? Correction-slice me in two! Is there a hidden agenda somewhere? Something I’m missing? Are she and my brother in cahoots to drive me insane so they can finally be together? It’s seriously put me on edge. I’m even beginning to wonder if something’s been going on between them for a while. I guess anything’s possible. Jay’s always had a crush on her, as much as he may try to deny it. Well, I’ll soon figure it out, but right now, I’m too mad to talk about it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have cooled off some. Lord, please help me see my way through this ugly mess. Thanksgiving is only days away, and then Jay and I head for the mountains.

So, it’d been more than just the money issue and his worries over their growing family; he’d been having troubles at work, as well. Anger heaped upon anger when Rachel realized he’d been too proud to discuss it with her, and his unfounded fears over whether she and Jay were having an affair crushed her to the center of her bones. With her sleeve, she wiped at the tears running down her cheeks and continued reading with blurred vision.

November 24

Thanksgiving went as well as could be expected, considering Rachel and I are still not speaking. I’m sure everyone felt the tension. Shoot, you could have slashed it with a razor blade. I kept a close eye on Jay today, looking for signs that he and Rachel had something going on, but then, wouldn’t she have warned him to lie low if they had? Mostly, he just hung out with Meagan, chasing her around the house and making her raise the roof with her joyful shouts. He wanted to discuss our trip, but I just couldn’t muster the right mood. I know he’s ticked with me, especially since we’re leaving in two days. I’ll put it to him when we get to Colorado, just ask him point-blank how he feels about my wife. I’ll know right off by the look in his eyes if he still loves her, but, oh, dear God, give me grace to contain myself if I recognize that look.

November 25

Rachel took Meagan to visit her mother tonight, so I decided since she went running to Mommy I might as well go see my dad. Wrong move. I told Dad far more than necessary or prudent. Good grief, I even told him about Jason kissing Rachel before our wedding, and he about blew a gasket. He’s convinced my brother is a home wrecker, even though neither of us has an ounce of proof. I’m having serious doubts now. I mean, there must be an explanation for all of it. I’m nothing but a big jerk! Why can’t I swallow my pride, apologize to Rachel for my stinking behavior, and then confess that I’m scared to death of losing her, that I love her more than words can say, and that, most important, I’m sorry for doubting her? God, help me be the man I need to be. Forgive me for my faults and shortcomings and, most of all, my foolish pride.

She could have swallowed her own pride, she ruled, staring at the blank pages that remained in the journal. She could have been the one to beg for forgiveness first, but no, she’d stubbornly insisted it was his duty to take the initial step. Surely, Satan had laughed all the way to John’s grave.

Her fingers skimmed lightly over her precious husband’s final words.
Forgive me for my faults and shortcomings.

“Oh, my darling John, God did forgive you, for He is a gracious, merciful Father who knew you well. He understood your aching heart, along with your worry and confusion, and loved you anyway. I’m the one in need of mercy. Jesus, please forgive me my stubbornness and foolish pride, and, if it’s possible, could You tell John how very sorry I am?”

Feeling strangely renewed, she swept away the last of her tears and stood up, suddenly realizing a few things remained unfinished. Downstairs, she methodically selected which photos to remove from the mantel and coffee tables and which to leave. In the end, she selected the one taken of their family before John Jr.’s birth and their wedding photo for display. Neither would be too painful to glance at on a regular basis. The others she made a neat stack of and decided to put in plastic containers to be stored in the basement. Someday, Meagan and Johnny would appreciate having them.

Next, she opened the hall closet and took out John’s winter coat and boots, carefully folding the coat and laying it and the boots beside the sofa. Early on Monday morning, she would drop everything off at a local charity. Peace she hadn’t felt in some time washed over her like rain—cleansing, cool, and refreshing. It felt good to de-shrine her house of all things John. In fact, it was time. She would never cease to cherish his memory, but she couldn’t continue to let her grief keep her from experiencing the wonderful things life still held in store.

Her gaze fell on the coffee table and the Bible Jason had given her for Christmas. She’d been reading from it every morning, taking comfort from its words, words that dared her to step out in faith and take the hand of the One who loved her unconditionally and always had her best interests in mind.

“Thank You, Lord,” she prayed. “Thank You for the strength and courage You give. Please give me the patience to wait on Your direction and the discernment to understand Your perfect plan.”

Jason woke with a stiff, aching neck, the result of having lain wrong and being too exhausted to turn his lazy body over. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and so, once he’d finally drifted off, he’d gone directly into deep-sleep mode. He glanced at the clock and moaned. Seven thirty. What was he doing up so early on a Saturday morning, especially when it felt like he’d just gone to sleep? As usual, thoughts of Rachel drifted in and out of his mind, along with images of Meagan’s angelic face and John Jr.’s impish one. He loved all three of them equally—well, almost—and missed them more than the moon misses the night. It had been three weeks since he’d talked to Rachel, and he’d be swallowed whole before he called her again. She knew how he felt about her, so the next move had to come from her. No question.

He threw off the blankets, slid his bare legs over the side of the bed, plunked his feet onto the cold hardwood, and massaged the knot in his neck, contemplating whether to take a shower now or later. He decided to wait. Right now, he had bike ride on the brain. He could live with a little knot in his neck, and, besides, a good, hard ride might work the thing out. Peeking out of his bedroom window, he saw that some snow still remained, but the roads were dry, and the temperatures had been somewhat mild for the last several days—perfect riding conditions. Plus, the sun was already peeping through the blinds, spurring him on. Since getting a seasonal tune-up on his bike, he’d gotten the itch for riding again. It had been a long winter of inactivity, with no downhill skiing, and he looked forward to spring and summer sports—golf with his usual foursome, softball, water sports, and three-man basketball—whenever his work schedule permitted. He’d found ways to keep his body active over the winter, of course, working out in the clubhouse gym and pool, but there was nothing like getting outside in the elements, whether wind, rain, blazing sun, or blinding snow. Skiing truly had been one of his first loves, but would he pick it up again next winter? Perhaps. But would it ever hold the joys it once had?

In the kitchen, he poured himself a cold cup of day-old coffee, put it in the microwave, and set the timer for sixty seconds. As he waited for it to heat, he shuffled to the door to pick up the Saturday paper from the front step, then sauntered back to the kitchen, skimming the headlines mindlessly. He tossed the paper on the counter, unwrapped a loaf of bread, and took out a couple of slices. While he was waiting for the bread to toast, his cell phone vibrated on the kitchen table. He picked it up and answered without checking the caller ID, expecting to hear the voice of his friend and foreman, Todd, or perhaps one of his parents, or maybe even one of his buddies from church. Certainly not his ex-girlfriend!

“Candace! Well, for crying out loud, how are you?”

“You sound happy to hear from me. I was hoping for that. I’m fine. How are you, Jason?”

Did he sound happy?
Shocked
might have described him more accurately, but he didn’t correct her. Forgetting entirely about his coffee and toast, he suddenly felt the need to sit down, so he lowered himself onto the closest thing, a barstool.

During the first five minutes of conversation, they exchanged idle chat, discussing the weather, her job at the hospital, his latest building endeavors, and even the guy she’d been dating but recently dumped. “He just didn’t have any of the qualities I’m looking for in a husband, you know what I mean?”

Oh, Lord, I don’t want to be having this conversation.
He muttered a silent prayer for wisdom and compassion. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. It wasn’t meant to be. So, are you dating anyone?” she asked.

“No…uh, not really.”

“Not really? So, what you’re saying is, you are. In a way.”

He supposed he should be honest. “No, I’m really not dating anyone.”

He heard her let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “Well, what do you know? You’re still unattached. What would you say to going out for coffee some night—as old friends, of course? No strings attached.”

No strings attached? Candace Peterson carried a ball of string everywhere she went. He could not afford to get tangled up in it again. “I don’t think—”

“Oh, come on, Jason. I’m harmless.”

As a snake
, he wanted to say. “I’ve been pretty busy.”

“I learned to cook!” she announced, passing over his weak excuse. “And would you believe I’m enjoying it?”

“You—what?” He could not help the chuckle that came out. “Really?”

“I’ve taken some night classes, and they’re really fun. I know it’s hard to believe, but my domestic skills have greatly improved.”

“I should probably go to that class,” he joked.

“You should! We could go together. It’s on Tuesday nights.”

“I just joined a men’s Bible study on Tuesday nights.” He’d gone to only one session so far, but she didn’t need to know that.

“No problem. The class meets on Thursdays, too. You can pick which night is more convenient. I’m flexible. What do you say?”

“I—I’d have to think about it.”

“All right, that’s fair enough. Now, about that coffee…what are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?”
Lord, what am I doing tonight?
“I’m—I haven’t—”

“Wonderful! What do you say I come by and pick you up around seven?”

“Seven? You’ll pick
me
up? That’s pretty far out of your way.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention I’ve switched condos? I live in Cadillac now, very close to the hospital. Gosh, I probably live about ten, fifteen minutes from you now. It’s great.”

“Candace? Um, we broke up, remember? I just don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“Don’t worry so much, Jason. It’s just coffee, for goodness’ sake—my treat. And we’d be getting together for old times’ sake, nothing more. Come on; it’ll be fun to see each other and just chat up a storm.”

It sounded innocent enough. “Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt, but just as friends.”

She laughed, and he thought he detected a hint of disappointment or maybe annoyance in her light chortle. But what could he do about it? He had no feelings for her beyond friendship, and even that was sort of stretching it. He didn’t want to build up her hopes.

“I’ve been going to Good Faith Community Church,” she said. “It’s downtown.”

He knew the church. It was one of those “feel good” kinds of churches, the type that didn’t challenge you beyond your comfort level or talk about the need for confession and repentance and welcomed every kind of lifestyle into their big, happy congregation, also embracing the philosophy that Jesus wasn’t necessarily the only route to God. “That’s—uh, good. Have you been reading your Bible?”

“Of course—every chance I get.” Somehow, he doubted that. “Okay, then; I’ll see you tonight, Jason. I’m excited. We’ll go to the Coffee Gallery, if that’s all right with you. They have light cuisine, if you happen to be hungry.”

“I’ve been there before. It’s a nice place.”

After they’d said their good-byes and hung up, Jason sat there staring at his phone for a full minute, wondering what had made him give in and agree to go out with his old flame. He didn’t even want to see her. “You dumb weakling!” he chided himself.

Lord, strike me down with a bad flu bug or something—anything to give me reason to cancel this unexpected…was it a date?