The Desire (6 page)

M
arilyn was surprised at how much energy she had. She wasn't the least bit tired anymore. They had just gotten Christina safely on her way with the new car battery. Christina was so excited, before she'd left she had given Marilyn a hug and said, “Are we still on for lunch Wednesday?” Marilyn assured her they were.

After Christina left, Jim reminded her about that talk he wanted to have about “something big” and wondered if they still had time to talk. Marilyn smiled and said she had something big to go over with him too. She had just gotten out of the car and was waiting for him to join her on the sidewalk in Riverfront Park.

He reached for her hand. “I was so glad we could do that for Christina,” he said. “I feel really good inside.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Marilyn said. She took his hand, and they walked toward the river. “So, looks like we both have something big to discuss with the other. Who's gonna go first?”

“I know it's supposed to be ladies first, but do you mind if I go?” Jim said.

Marilyn was actually glad he wanted to talk first. Her idea was so crazy; she had no way of knowing how Jim would
react. She didn't want to spoil this wonderful mood and bring their walk to an abrupt end. “Sure, I don't mind.”

“Well, you already know it's about what Audrey and I talked about on Sunday.”

“You two were talking for hours,” Marilyn said.

“We had a lot of ground to cover.”

“So what is it? I can tell by your mood it's a good thing.”

“It's a very good thing. For us, but even more so for Tom and Jean.”

“I knew it. You kept looking at them at the dinner table. I was sure it had something to do with them.” Marilyn couldn't begin to imagine what it was.

Jim looked out at the river then back at her. His smile had grown even wider. “How would you like to have the house all to yourself again? Well, I would still be there.”

“I don't understand. Is she asking Tom and Jean to move in with her?”

“No. She's asking if Tom and Jean would like to buy her house.”

“In River Oaks?”

Jim nodded.

“That cute little bungalow house with the dormers? The one where you learned how to dance?”

Jim nodded again. “That's the one.”

Marilyn couldn't believe it. “But how? She's moving?”

“She is. Her older sister's health is deteriorating, and Audrey wants to move in with her to take care of her. She said it looks like this will be a permanent move, not something temporary. So she's decided to sell the house. She prayed about it and wanted to see if it might be possible to sell it to Tom and Jean.” He kicked a stick out of the way just in front of her on the sidewalk.

“But how could that work? Isn't their credit shot from what happened with their house?”

“It's not totally shot, but I'm sure it's way too soon for a bank or mortgage company to consider something like this. But that's not an issue. That's what took so much time, working out the details with Audrey. She wants to hold the mortgage. It would be a good source of income for her every month, and even giving Tom a great deal, she'd get a better interest rate than she'd get from a CD or money market account.”

“Can Tom and Jean afford it?”

“It'll be a little tight for the first year or two, but I've been helping him with his finances over the last year, so I know where they're at. She's willing to drop the price for a quick, no-hassle sale to a level I think they can handle. And she says she's watched everything that's happened with them since Tom came clean last year after hiding when he lost his job. She's been impressed with how hard he's worked to finish his schooling and pay down their debt. She started asking me about it a few months ago. I didn't realize at the time why she was so curious. But she's been thinking about it for quite a while, about selling the house, I mean. Her sister's illness just helped her to decide now was the time. I still have to ask Tom and Jean about it—”

“Are you kidding? They'll love it. Jean and I talk quite a bit. She feels pretty bad about how long they've been living with us. Just last week, we talked about this over coffee, saying that now with Tom's new job, he'll be bringing in a lot more money. They discussed finding an apartment. I told her not to be in a rush about it, we're fine. But I could tell, the thought of buying a house didn't even occur to her.”

“I'm sure it didn't,” Jim said. “Apart from something like this, I don't think they'd be in the market for several years.”

They walked hand in hand in silence a few moments. Marilyn was so happy. Tom and Jean would be so excited.

They came to a bench in the shade facing the river. “Let's sit here,” she said. “There's such a nice breeze.”

Jim sat beside her. “Okay, your turn. So . . . is it a good thing or a bad thing?”

“No, it's good. I think you'll think it's good.” Marilyn said a quick silent prayer. “Speaking of good, you know that good feeling you said you got a little while ago after helping Christina with her car?”

Jim nodded.

“In a way you could say my idea is a way to feel that good all the time, for the next several months, anyway.” She smiled.

Jim shook his head and returned her smile. “Okay, what's this about?”

She took a deep breath; she had to get her thoughts under control. Sometimes when she got nervous she could just rattle on. This was too important. “At my meeting with Christina and Arlene, I found out a lot more about Christina's situation. She comes from a really messed-up life, up in New York. I'll tell you all the details sometime, and it will just break your heart. She's down here now without any family and wound up getting pregnant by some guy she was living with, whom she describes as a total loser. He's out of the picture completely now. But because he is, in a week or so, she'll have no place to live. She's working and getting some financial assistance from the adoption agency that's working with her, but it's only enough to afford a dumpy apartment in a not-very-nice part of town.”

“So she doesn't live in River Oaks,” Jim said.

“She couldn't even think about living in River Oaks.”

“So what's your idea?”

“I'm thinking of Doug's place,” she said.

“The garage apartment?”

“Yes. Doug's been here the last two weekends, but you know he's hardly ever home. Once he gets back in the rhythm of going to class every week, we probably won't see him again till Thanksgiving. The apartment is fully furnished, and I'm pretty sure it won't cost us a thing. Between her job and the money she's getting from the agency, she'll be able to cover all her own expenses. I really think God might be the one who put this thought in my head. But I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm really not. I know he has to put faith in your heart for this too.”

Jim sat back on the bench and took a deep breath. She tried to read his face but couldn't. She felt a strong urge to keep talking, to keep selling him, but she held her peace. A young mother walked by, pushing two children in a stroller.

After she passed, Jim said, “I am open to this. I want you to know that.”

This sounded like his introduction to shooting the idea down.

He stopped talking a few moments, as if thinking through his words carefully. “It's just such a big deal. I mean, having Tom and Jean living with us is one thing, but we don't really know this girl at all. It's going to be a major adjustment adding a total stranger to the mix. I don't know . . .”

“Well, here's one thing,” she said. “The apartment over the garage really is self-contained. It's totally separated from the main house. It even has its own kitchen. I'd be able to look after her better, with her living there, but it's not like she'd actually be living with us.”

“That's true.” Jim's face lightened up slightly. “I suppose it would be more like renting the place out.”

“That's what I was thinking.”

“But I'd hate to do anything Doug would interpret as us pushing him away. I did my best at lunch to really appeal to him to keep coming home on weekends as often as possible.”

“Were you careful about the guilt thing?” Marilyn asked. “You know I don't want him coming home just because he feels guilty.”

“No, I was careful. I just made it about how much we enjoy seeing him, how much we miss him when he's not there.” He thought about this. “Well, guess I got a little guilt in there.”

“Just a little.” Marilyn smiled.

“So, I'd really like to talk with him first.”

“That's fine,” she said. “I'm having lunch with her on Wednesday.”

“I'm sure I can talk this over with Doug before then. And I really am open to this, Marilyn. I mean that. It's just . . . it's such a big thing.”

M
ichele had been nervous standing in the main lobby of the Orlando International Airport, staring down the hallway as incoming passengers came through the gate area. It was Tuesday, late in the afternoon. Allan's return route from Africa had been such a hodgepodge of different flights, even different airlines, with long layovers in large airports; she was afraid he wouldn't show up on time.

But her fears had quickly dissipated when she saw his beautiful smile peeking out from behind a small crowd of women dressed in business attire. He looked exhausted, more so than he usually did coming home from these trips. They hugged and kissed, then hugged and kissed some more. She couldn't help it; she started to cry. It just felt so good being back where she belonged, standing inside his strong arms.

They had gotten through the baggage claim process with little trouble. Miraculously, all of his bags had made it intact and were all there to greet them on the baggage conveyor belt.

Now they were almost home. They had just driven through the main entrance to River Oaks. Allan was in the passenger seat. She had kept the conversation mostly light, considering the almost dazed expression on his face. She was somewhat
used to this from his previous trips. The jet lag was significant. It was four in the afternoon here. For Allan, it was one in the morning. The biggest jet lag she had ever experienced was three hours coming back from California.

Beyond this, she suspected his fatigue had more to do with culture shock. She watched his eyes as they drove home from the airport. She remembered that look from previous trips. It was as if he was seeing these very familiar buildings and places for the first time.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Just tired,” he said. “I'm sure that's it.”

“Are you sure? You're always tired when you come home from one of these trips. But you seem . . . different. Did anything happen since we talked the other night?”

He looked at her, then reached out his hand and stroked her cheek softly. “Not especially. Some things definitely happened. But not bad things. We went back out to that place I was telling you about.”

“Korah?”

“Yeah. Spent the whole last day there.” He shook his head, as if not believing the memories he was obviously reliving. “You can't imagine it, Michele. I want to tell you about it, all about it. I might just need a few days to catch my breath.”

“That's okay.” She squeezed his hand. “I'll still be here in a few days. What was the first thing you ate when you got back on American soil?” Maybe changing the subject would help.

He seemed to think a moment. “I don't remember. A sandwich, I think. Yeah, turkey and swiss cheese. It wasn't very good, or maybe I just wasn't that hungry. I still have half of it in my brief bag.”

This was different. Normally, he would get all animated talking about how wonderful it was to finally be able to eat
a decent meal again. He wouldn't even care that it was airport food.

“These places,” he said as they drove through the first big neighborhood in River Oaks, “they're like castles. It's like a fairyland. Like that place right there on the corner.” He pointed to a house not much different than the family house on Elderberry Lane. “After what I've been seeing in Korah, I can't get my mind around the idea that one family lives there.” He almost sounded like he had a slight tone of disgust in his voice. He looked at her. “I saw places, little one-room shacks, where nine people lived. At night, they were packed in like sardines. Dirt floor, rusty tin roof. No streets, just mud.”

She didn't know what to say. What should she say? Should she apologize? It felt almost appropriate. They continued driving through street after street of the most gorgeous homes and yards America could produce. River Oaks. Home sweet home. “Do you think . . . this is wrong? That people shouldn't live in places this nice?”

“What? No. That's not what I'm saying. I don't think it is, anyway. It's just so hard seeing these people—not the people here—in Korah, I mean, living with nothing. Absolutely nothing. And there's not even the hope that someday their situation will improve. I talked with one old man. I thought he must be seventy or eighty. It turned out he was fifty-three. He'd lived his entire life there. I don't think he could even conceive of the possibility of life on any street here in River Oaks. I couldn't even find the words to describe it to him. He'd have no reference point.”

Allan paused, looking at Michele as she drove. “But the hardest part were all the kids. Hundreds of them. Most of them orphans. Just scrounging around every day, rummaging through dirty, filthy garbage, looking for anything they could
eat. The smell was horrendous, Michele. Beyond belief. We not only lost our appetites, most of us felt like we would lose our breakfast any minute. I can't even imagine being hungry enough to eat something I picked out of there.”

She made a few more turns. The townhome village where they lived was just a few minutes away. Their neighborhood was still gorgeous, but the homes were much smaller. Maybe seeing them would be easier for him to bear. “Well, are you still glad you went?”

“Yeah, I'm still glad. All in all, it was a fruitful trip. I'm sure we'll be going back there. Maybe just back to Korah. Ray said he believes that discovering that place was the whole purpose of our trip.”

“What do you think?” She tried not to sound too enthusiastic. She was actually a little discouraged to hear him already talking about wanting to go back.

“I totally agree. As hard as it was. Nothing else we did on that trip even comes close to the significance of those last few days in Korah.” He turned toward her in his seat. Not just his head but his whole body, a new look of excitement on his face. “The guys . . . well, the guys and I . . . we decided we
have
to do something. None of us felt right seeing all of that and just walking away. We couldn't live with ourselves if we did.”

She didn't like the sound of this. “Like what?” She turned left down the little driveway that ran behind their section of townhomes. She could see their place just up ahead.

“Michele, we're going to help this man we met build an orphanage there.”

“What?”

“An orphanage. Just a small one at first. But we spent most of the plane ride home figuring it out. It can work, Michele. It really can.”

“You're saying we here. Who's we?”

“Me and the rest of the guys.”

“What's your role in this supposed to be?”

“Ray's going to be the point man, in charge of all the fund-raising and kind of be the spokesman. He's asked me to take care of all the logistics here at home. The administrative stuff.”

She pulled into the driveway. His face was all lit up.

Her heart was filled with dread.