The Widow's Choice (23 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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Roberts sighed heavily. He leaned back against the wall and shook his head. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might not get back to the foundry?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, you could die before you get there.”

“Don’t try to scare me, Ed.”

“I wish I
could
scare you! You’re in bad shape, Oscar. Terrible shape, in fact. If you don’t listen to me, you won’t live six months.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No, I don’t know it, but I can make an educated guess.”

“All right. Let’s have the sermon. I know what’s coming.”

Dr. Roberts shrugged his beefy shoulders. “You know what I’m going to say. You’re overweight, you never get any exercise, your diet is terrible, you drink too much wine, and your life is in a constant state of stress. Those are the things that could kill you.”

Oscar’s shoulders twitched restlessly. He had heard all this before, but now there was an ominous glare in his doctor’s face. “Well, I’ll try to do better.” He rose to his feet, anxious to get away from this conversation.

“You’re a foolish man, Oscar. You’ve got everything that most men want, and you’re throwing it out the window. You’ve got a fine wife now and three boys who need guidance—it’s everything you’ve always wanted. But you’ve got to take care of yourself or you won’t live to enjoy it.”

“I’m almost out of those pills you gave me. Give me a prescription for some more.”

“These aren’t vitamin pills. They’re nitroglycerine—the
same stuff that blows up buildings. What it does is open up your arteries. I’d hate to see the condition of your arteries with the way you like to eat. They’re bound to be closed up tight. Now, you can’t just gobble these pills like popcorn.” He pulled his prescription pad out of his pocket, scribbled on it, and handed the sheet to Oscar. “I’ll give you the prescription, but these won’t solve your problems long-term. I’m your friend, Oscar. I’m telling you for your own good that you need to make some serious changes—starting right now.”

Oscar took the prescription, fumbling with it as he stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Ed. I really will amend my ways.”

“I hope so. I’d hate to see you go like so many others I’ve seen.”

Oscar nodded and left the office. As he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he paused and looked down the street. It was an ordinary day with people walking along the sidewalks going into shops. Cars and trucks were making their way along at a leisurely pace. Just an ordinary day, but suddenly he had a touch of fear. The doctor’s words had cut deep, and he thought with chilling certainty,
Tomorrow I might not be here to see this street. I’ve got to be more careful!

****

“I don’t think you’ll ever get the hang of it, Tim.”

Helen had been trying to teach Tim how to ride a horse, but he just couldn’t get comfortable in the saddle. By the end of their lesson, he felt as if he’d been bumped up and down like a pumpkin in a sack. And to top it off, he fell off the gelding when the horse made an abrupt turn. “Well, I never did claim to be a horseman.”

Helen slipped off her filly. “That’s enough for today. Let’s get these animals unsaddled.”

The two led their horses to the barn, where Tim proved more adept at unsaddling his mount than he had at riding him. After turning the horses out to pasture, Helen smiled at him. “Did you read that novel I gave you?”

“Yes, I did. It was pretty soupy. Nothing in it but hugging and kissing.”

“Um-hmm. Doesn’t that give you any ideas?”

Tim had steeled himself for this moment and now boldly took Helen by the upper arms and kissed her, almost missing her mouth in his nervousness. After a brief kiss, he stepped back. Then to his horror she giggled!

He glared at her, then whirled and started to walk stiffly away. Helen ran after him and caught his arm.

“Wait, Tim. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

His face was rigid, for he knew he was out of his league. He knew Helen had gone out with some older, more experienced boys, and he was very nervous about what she expected of him. He said almost hoarsely, “I just don’t know how to act around girls.”

Helen had gotten to know Tim very well, for he was coming to her house on a regular basis now to see her mother. It amused her that he was more interested in art than in her. She was used to having boys flock to see her. “You’re so funny, Tim. So different from other boys. I have to fight them off sometimes, but all you want to do is talk to Mom about art.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not what you want me to be.”

“Don’t be mad.” She smiled. “You remind me of Buddy. You pout just like he does when you get your feelings hurt.”

“I do not!”

“Come on. Let’s go in the house.”

“No, I should be getting home.”

“Mom said to bring you in after we got through riding. She wants to talk to ask you about your latest painting.”

He hesitated. “Well . . . all right.”

As they moved toward the house, Helen studied the lean young man. He was still very boyish looking but was starting to fill out and grow taller. She was a year older than Tim and was already quite womanly in appearance. She could have her pick of older boys, but Tim’s innocence and naïveté appealed to her.

“Tim, why haven’t you ever asked me out on a date?”

“Why, you’re the most popular girl in our school, Helen. The important guys want to go out with you—the athletes and all.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have you ask me.”

“Would you really?”

“Of course I would. I thought you would have guessed that by now.”

“All right. I will.” He thought hard about where he might ask her to go. “Would you like to go squirrel hunting with me next Saturday morning?”

Helen wanted to laugh at his innocence. “I’ve never been squirrel hunting. I don’t think I could kill a nice little squirrel.”

“I’m not a very good shot. I probably won’t hit any, but it’s nice to be out in the woods.”

“All right. What time?”

“I’ll come by about eight o’clock. That ought to give us plenty of time.”

“It’ll be my first date going squirrel hunting,” Helen said. “I can hardly wait,” she said with a giggle.

****

Tim made the final brush stroke on his latest painting, then stepped back. “What do you think, Jason?”

“It’s not your best, but I like the way you’ve got that light coming through the trees. Light’s a tough thing to handle.”

“I know it. I struggled with that.”

“You seem a bit disturbed today. Anything wrong?” Jason asked, studying the boy’s face.

“I had a run-in with Oscar early this morning. He doesn’t like me
wasting
my time painting. That’s what he calls it!” Tim said bitterly.

“I know. I had the same argument with him when I was about your age. I lost the argument too. But I don’t want you to.”

“It makes it real hard. He gets along better with Carl and Zac than he does with me. Especially Zac.”

“That’s because Zac does what Oscar wants. He gets along with everybody who does what he wants.”

“He doesn’t get along with Mom.”

Jason did not answer for a moment. “It’s probably better if you and I don’t talk about that. It’s a very private matter between Oscar and your mom.”

“All right. I won’t talk about it.” He put his paintbrush down. “I gotta talk to you about something, Jason.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“Umm, there’s this girl that I like a lot.”

Jason smiled. “Does she like you?”

“I think she does, but Jason, she’s the most popular girl in the school. She can go with anybody she wants to.”

“But if she likes you, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know how to act around her. I tried to kiss her, and I made a mess out of it. You gotta tell me what to do.”

Jason laughed. “You want me to give you kissing lessons?”

“Oh, come on, Jason, you know that’s not what I mean! I just don’t know how to act around girls. I feel awkward and embarrassed.”

“So do I.”

“Aw, you don’t either.”

“I do sometimes.” He shrugged. “Women are complicated, and I hate to tell you this, Tim, but it doesn’t get much easier as you get older. Let’s sit down and you can tell me all about this girl.”

Jason listened while Tim told him how the two had become friends and had started spending a fair amount of time together. Jason made no comment until Tim finally said nervously, “I like her a lot, Jason.”

“The only advice I can tell you is to respect that girl and be yourself. You can’t be another guy. You want her to like you for yourself. And she already does, right?” He smiled and clapped Tim on the shoulder. “A fine, upstanding artist
like you that’s going to be world famous, handsome, and charming.”

“Aw, Jason, don’t kid me like that!”

“I’m not kidding. You’re a great kid. Just be yourself. She’s lucky to have a boy like you interested in her.”

****

For months now Alona’s life had been divided into two distinct parts. One was the pleasure of seeing her boys well clothed and well fed and living in a comfortable fashion. This meant less to her than it did to them, however. Even though she was now surrounded by luxury she had never known before and could buy anything she wanted, it mattered little.

The luxuries that at one time might have made her happy and excited now left her cold, for the other side of her life was miserable. She’d had an exceptionally happy marriage to Truman. He had been a man of great wit, and until he was gone, she had never realized how much his humor had meant in their marriage. He had always been able to keep her spirits up by with his joking and teasing, and she missed it more than she had ever thought she would. She also missed the tenderness he showed her—the little things he did. She missed his habit of writing short messages on pieces of paper and putting them where she least expected them. He had hidden them inside the coffee can so that when she went to get the coffee in the morning, there was a little note from Truman saying, “I love you, sweetheart.” He had been unafraid to express his affection to her alone or in company, something she now realized was very rare in a man.

As for the matter of the marriage bed, Oscar had practically terminated this aspect of their relationship—which gave her tremendous relief. There had been no pleasure at all in his embraces, for he was rough and demanding and insensitive. Ever since the church meeting concerning Leland Short, Oscar had kept his hands off her. It was obvious he still resented her actions in going against his wishes that night.

It was on a bright chilly November afternoon when she sat thinking of these things that Jason unexpectedly came home from work. She assumed he had forgotten something when he went straight downstairs to his bedroom.

“Jason, do you have a minute?” she asked, intercepting his path as he came up the stairs.

“Oh, hello, Alona. Yes, I had to come home and get some papers for the office that I forgot.” He shook his head and a rueful expression crossed his face. “Oscar wasn’t too happy about that.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Is now a good time?”

“Sure.” They went into the parlor and sat in matching armchairs. “What is it?”

“I’m worried about you, Jason.”

He blinked with surprise. “What about?”

“About your drinking.” He had been coming home drunk with some frequency, and even now she could see that he had been drinking the night before by the redness of his eyes.

He dropped his head, unable to meet her gaze. “I’m worried about it too. It gets the best of me sometimes. Nobody hates me worse than I do for that.”

“You shouldn’t hate yourself. I certainly don’t hate you, Jason.” She leaned closer and put her hand on his arm. “You’ve done so much for the boys, and I’ve become very fond of you.” Alona, in all honesty, knew she had strong feelings for this man. But being a woman of strict morals, she had gone to great lengths to conceal this from Jason. She was usually careful to not even think about her attraction to him. “And the boys love you,” she continued. “I’ve asked you this before, but don’t you think it might be better if you left this place? It’s not good for you to work for Oscar. I know he did a lot for you when you were younger, and he pulled you out of trouble after your crash. But he’s not the kind of man who can sympathize with weakness.”

“You’re right about that.” Jason was very conscious of her
hand on his arm and started to speak, but at that moment Mrs. Darrow stuck her head into the room.

“There’s a phone call for you, Mrs. Moran.”

Instantly Alona dropped her hand. “I’ll be right there. Thank you, Jason. Do what you can about the matter.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

As he left, Alona saw Mrs. Darrow watch him. Without a doubt, she would be telling Oscar the two had been caught alone in the parlor again.

****

As soon as Jason stepped into Oscar’s office, he knew a storm was brewing. Oscar had been silent all day, but he had summoned Jason to his office and now he sat at his desk, his eyes as hard as flint.

“You wanted to see me, Oscar?”

“Yes, I wanted to see you.” The words were flat and hard. “I’ve tried to be a help to you, Jason, but evidently that doesn’t mean much to you.”

Jason tried to think what could have stirred up Oscar this time. “You have been a help to me. I’ve never denied that.”

“You don’t act like it.”

“What have I done now?” The words came out more bitterly than Jason intended. He had been through this scene many times, and he had no desire to go through it again.

“I’ve overlooked your drinking and your being unable to carry out your duties here at the foundry, but I can’t overlook what you’ve been doing in my home.”

An alarm went off in Jason’s mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly.

“I’m talking about the attention you pay to Alona.”

“Why, that’s crazy! I’ve nothing but respect for her.”

“Is that why you meet with her in private every chance you get?”

“I don’t go out of my way and neither does she.”

“That’s not true. Mrs. Darrow tells me you two are together
all the time. You’re an ingrate, Jason, and I’m not going to put up with it any longer.”

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