What the Heart Knows (3 page)

“My favorite time of year.” Jared started down the sidewalk toward the corner.

“When everything is reborn,” she said, falling into step beside him.

Ten minutes later Jared turned up the walk to a two-story redbrick house with two massive oak trees in front. Kathleen paused to admire the landscape. The yard was mowed and neatly trimmed with well-tended orange and yellow marigolds by the porch.

She whistled. “What a beautiful yard. You and my dad have a lot in common. I think you'll be a great candidate to take care of the gardens at church.”

“The housekeeper takes care of the inside. I take care of the outside. I enjoy getting out and puttering around in the yard. Makes me forget about my worries for a short period of time.”

“You see, that's how I feel about the kitchen.”

“How does Mark feel about yard work?”

“He used to love it. He and John would spend hours working outside. Now he doesn't want to do anything. I feel like a nag just getting him to mow our lawn.”

She followed Jared up the steps to a huge porch
that ran the length of his house. A profusion of potted plants adorned it as well as a swing and natural wicker furniture with bright yellow cushions. “Do you spend a lot of time out here?”

“When I can, especially in the early morning and the evening right before the sun sets.”

“Nice times of the day.”

“It's my quiet time.” Again his grin appeared, dimpling his cheeks. “At least the morning is my quiet time. The kids aren't up yet. I can't really say that about the evening. I've helped with many a homework assignments on that swing.”

The front door swung open and Terry hurried outside. “Dad, Hannah won't let anyone in. Let's call the fire department. They can rescue her.”

Jared put his hand on his son's shoulder to stop his forward momentum. “I think they have better things to do with their time than that.”

“Then how are we gonna get her out?”

“She's not stuck in there. She can come out anytime she wants.”

“Mrs. Davis has tried everything. She yelled at her. She tried to bribe her. Nothing's worked.”

“Let's go see what we can do.” Jared hugged his son to his side for a few seconds before entering the house.

Upstairs Mrs. Davis, who had brown hair streaked with gray and pulled back into a severe bun, stood in the middle of the hallway in front of what was obviously the main bathroom, tapping her foot against the brown-carpeted floor. Her irritated expression underscored her exasperated stance.

“I'll take over, Mrs. Davis. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rotund, large woman huffed and rushed past Jared, Terry and Kathleen, mumbling about being behind in her work.

Jared approached the closed door and leaned against it. “Hannah, come out and let's talk.”

“No! Go away. I hate being a girl.”

“I can't do that, Hannah,” Jared said in a gentle voice. “Kathleen has come over to see you.”

Kathleen stepped closer until she, too, was leaning into the door. “I thought maybe you and I could talk woman-to-woman.”

Nothing came from Hannah for almost three minutes, then Kathleen heard the lock click and the door eased open.

“Come in.”

Kathleen went into the bathroom. Terry tried to follow. His sister blocked his way with her hands on her hips. She stuck out her lower lip, her eyes pinpoints, silently daring him to enter her domain.

“Terry, please go help Mrs. Davis now,” Jared said behind the boy.

Terry groaned but headed down the hall. Hannah immediately locked the door again. Kathleen sat on the lip of the bathtub while the twelve-year-old plopped down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her hands folded in front of her, the young girl stared at the cream-colored tile on the floor.

Kathleen waited a few minutes to see if Hannah would say anything. When she didn't speak, Kathleen said, “I can still remember my first time. I was
scared. I didn't know what to feel. My mother is great, but she was always uncomfortable talking about things like that. I wasn't sure what was happening to me.”

Hannah looked straight at her. “Dad gave me a book. It explained everything. That's not the problem.”

When the young girl didn't elaborate, Kathleen asked, “What
is
the problem? Maybe I can help.”

Hannah's bottom lip quivered. “Can you stop it?”

“No, it's a natural routine in a woman's life.”

“But I don't want it. I don't feel well. I—”

Kathleen squatted in front of Hannah. “Do you have cramps?”

She shook her head. “I'm not myself. I don't know how to describe it.”

Kathleen placed her hand over the young girl's. “Out of sorts?”

“Yes.”

“That's common. Our body's hormones can affect our moods.”

Her eyes watery with unshed tears, Hannah bit her teeth into her bottom lip. “Why does this have to happen to me?”

Kathleen hid her smile, wondering how many women have thought that very same question. “It's part of God's plan. As you know from the book you read, having periods is tied to a woman being able to have children.”

“I don't wanna change. I like everything the way it is,” Hannah said with a sniff.

“That, too, is part of life. Change will happen. I
guarantee it.” Kathleen remembered her earlier comments about her life changing. She hadn't wished hers to change, either.

“Can I still play sports when I'm—?” Hannah's question faded into silence, her teeth digging into her lower lip even more.

“Of course. But as you become a young woman, you'll need to see about getting things like a bra. Do you have one now?”

Hannah's eyes grew round. “No! I don't want one.”

“When you play sports, it's better to wear one. I could go with you to get a sports bra if you want.”

“Sports bra?” Hannah thought that over for a moment. “Okay—I guess so. If I have to.”

“Can I help you with anything else? Do you know how to take care of yourself? Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes. Dad gave me a box of pads when he gave me the book to read.”

“Do you have any other concerns I can help you with?” Kathleen pushed to her feet, suddenly realizing she missed not having a daughter. John and she had wanted more children, but it wasn't to be.

“When can we go shopping?”

Noticing the puffy redness around Hannah's eyes, Kathleen took the washcloth from the towel rack and wet it. After handing it to the young girl, she said, “I'll talk to your father and set a date if that's okay with you.”

Hannah wiped her face, mumbling into the terry
cloth, “You don't think Dad will get mad if I go with you instead of him?”

Kathleen smiled at the young girl. “I think he'll be all right with just the two of us going.”

“Thanks, Kathleen,” Hannah said as Kathleen left the bathroom.

Jared leaned against the wall across from her. When he saw her, he shoved away and started toward the bathroom, worry creasing his brow, his eyes dark. “Do I need to talk to Hannah?”

Kathleen stopped him with a hand on his arm. The second her skin touched his she knew her mistake. Her fingertips tingled as though an electrical current had passed between them. She immediately dropped her hand to her side. “She's fine. Give her a few minutes to wash her face, compose herself.”

He stared at the closed door, the hard line of his jaw attesting to his continued concern. “Are you sure she—”

The door opened and Hannah emerged, her face scrubbed clean, all evidence of her tears gone. “Dad, I'm sorry.” Her gaze remained glued to the floor, her shoulders hunched. “I didn't mean for you to come home.”

His tension siphoned from his expression, the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxing as a grin appeared on his face. “I'm just glad you're okay. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

A blush tinted Hannah's cheeks. She shuffled from one foot to the other.

“Well, I guess just about anything. I know there'll be some things that will be hard for you to talk to
me about. But I want you to realize that I'll love you no matter what.”

Hannah finally glanced up, tears misting her eyes. “I know, Daddy. I love you.” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

When Jared stepped back, his arms stayed on Hannah's shoulders, compelling her to continue looking at him. “There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.” He cleared his throat. “Now how about a glass of lemonade? We could drink it on the porch.”

“I'm supposed to meet Bobby and the gang at his house. I'd better go before they start asking questions. You and Kathleen have a glass of lemonade. She has something to ask you.” Hannah flew down the stairs, leaving her astonished father watching her.

“You're wonderful with your daughter.”

Jared swung his attention to Kathleen. “What do you need to ask me?”

“I promised I would take Hannah shopping—for a bra.”

“Oh, I didn't—I should have realized.”

“Most fathers don't want even to acknowledge that their little girl is growing up. It doesn't surprise me you didn't think about it.”

He plowed his hand through his hair. “What else have I forgotten?”

“You're doing fine. Being a single parent isn't easy. I never realized how much I depended on John until he was gone.”

A frown descended on Jared's face. He started for the stairs. “Do you want a glass of lemonade?”

The rigid set to his shoulders spoke more than
words. There was a lot of pain bottled up in Jared. She wasn't even sure he was aware of how much. Having gone through her own kind of pain, she wished she could wipe his away with the brush of her hand. Maybe being there as a friend would help not only Hannah but him, as well. She liked being needed as a woman to a man and missed that since John's death.

“That sounds refreshing after our near jog here.”

“I'm sorry about that. I've always walked fast and with the problem concerning Hannah—” He shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

“I understand. I'm just glad I could help.”

“Make yourself comfortable on the porch. I'll get the lemonades and bring them out.”

Kathleen made her way to the porch and sat in the wooden swing. She couldn't forget the swift change in Jared's demeanor. The dark shadows in his eyes revealed his struggle to maintain his composure, to push memories away. How much was he keeping inside? Men often didn't talk about their emotions. They locked them away, denying they existed. Her yearning to feel needed, to help, grew.

The bang of the screen door alerted her to his approach. She glanced up and saw that he had himself under control, a neutral expression on his face. He handed her one glass and folded himself into a wicker chair opposite the swing. For just a second regret whipped through her—she told herself it was only because it was harder to carry on a conversation with him several yards away instead of next to her on the swing.

He took a sip of his drink. “Did Mark say anything more about why he smashed his guitar?”

She stiffened, reminded of her own set of problems. “No, he just insisted that he didn't want to play it anymore.” Kathleen drank some of her lemonade to quench the ache in her throat.

“In my practice I've seen some teenagers have a rougher time growing up than others. Keep watching him closely. Be there for him when he needs you.”

“That's just it. He doesn't need me. He spends most of his time alone in his room when he's at home.”

“Maybe he was more upset about the move than you thought.”

“When we got home last night, I talked to him again about it and he told me he didn't care.” Guilt at the inability to help her son cloaked her in a heavy blanket, pressing her down.

“Did you believe him?”

“Yes. The last couple of months in Shreveport he wasn't hanging around his friends like he used to. I tried talking to him about it but didn't get anywhere. Do you think I was just hoping he didn't care because I wanted to move?” She needed someone to tell her she had made the right decision in coming home.

Jared put his half-empty glass on the wicker table next to him. “Why did you want to move back to Crystal Springs?”

“I needed a change. My memories of Crystal Springs have always been fond ones.”

“But not Shreveport?”

She downed the rest of her lemonade as though she hadn't drunk anything in days. “In Shreveport I found myself unable to move on in my life. I tried for a year and a half and finally acknowledged it wasn't going to happen if I stayed.” Everywhere I turned I was reminded of how little control I have over my life, she silently added. I need control back.

“When you move, the memories go with you.”

“You can't hide from yourself?”

“Exactly.” He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands, nothing casual about him. “Don't give up on God. He hasn't abandoned you.”

“I've lost my husband and now I feel like I'm losing my son.”

“If I can do anything about it, I won't let you lose your son.”

The vehemence in his voice underscored his intentions, making Kathleen feel that she wasn't alone. If she wasn't careful, she could come to depend on Jared Matthews a great deal and she couldn't let that happen. John's death had rocked her world. She wouldn't go through that kind of pain ever again.

R
eturning to the church's recreational hall Sunday evening, Kathleen cracked the door open and peered inside. Twenty teenagers sat listening to Jared describe their latest fundraiser. Mark had reluctantly agreed to coming this evening and was next to his cousin, Shane, his gaze on the floor. She wasn't even sure if her son was hearing a word Jared was saying. Mark's features were devoid of any expression. Seeing her son like that sent a chill down her spine.

Kathleen slipped inside the room while Jared wrapped up what everyone needed to do before the next week's meeting. He caught her eye and smiled.

“Before we adjourn to the volleyball court, let's pray,” Jared said, bowing his head. “Dear Heavenly Father, be with each and every one of these young people as they go through life. Help them to make the right choices and be there for them when they don't. Amen.” Jared looked over the sea of teenagers. “The first game starts in ten minutes.”

The recreational hall emptied, all except for Mark, Kathleen and Jared. Mark slouched in his chair, continuing to stare at the tiled floor.

“Are you going to join us, Mark?” Jared asked, weaving his way through the rows of chairs toward Kathleen.

Mark shot Kathleen a look that spoke of boredom and disinterest. “Yeah, I guess.”

He pushed his lanky body, clad in black jeans and a black T-shirt, to his feet and trudged toward the door that led to outside.

When he disappeared from view, Kathleen released her pent-up breath in a rush. “I gather he wasn't an involved member of the group.”

“No, but I did catch him listening a few times.”

“I hope he'll get involved more. Otherwise this summer will be an extremely long one for him. I think all he'd do is sit in his room all day if I didn't make him do chores around the house or help his grandparents some.”

“Besides listening to his music, what else does he do in his room?”

“He likes to draw. He's been drawing a lot in a sketch book I got for him.”

“Have you looked at the sketches?”

“No, he won't show them to me, and I haven't wanted to invade his privacy.”

“Sometimes parents have to do things they don't want to in order to protect their children.”

“You think I should check the drawings out without him knowing?”

“They may tell you what's going on in his head.
Try to get him to show you.” Jared swept his arm across his body. “Now, come on out and join the festivities. Have you ever played volleyball?”

“Back in my younger days,” Kathleen replied, her mind dwelling on what Jared had said about Mark's drawings. She had always respected her son's privacy before, but— The thought of what she must do made her shiver.

“It's time to renew your skills,” Jared's words cut into her musing. “Everyone plays. We rotate teams.”

Stepping outside, Kathleen surveyed the newly mowed yard at the side of the church, the scent of cut grass peppering the air. A volleyball court with a net was set up near the picnic tables located under four large maple trees. “Which unlucky team gets me?”

“Now where's your positive thinking?”

“When I heard you mention volleyball, I think I left it back in the recreational hall. I'm not very athletic.”

“That's fine.” He smiled, his blue eyes glittering. “I'll just make sure I'm on the opposing team.”

Kathleen sat on a bench next to Jared and watched the first two teams play a game, her son, who used to be a good athlete, doing as little as possible. Again she wondered if she'd been wrong to come back to Crystal Springs. Maybe Mark needed familiar surroundings at this stage in his life. This town wasn't an unknown to her son, but it wasn't the place where he'd grown up. Self-doubts plagued her. She didn't know what to do anymore. In the past she'd always
had John to talk things over with and to support any decision she'd made.

“This is for fun,” Jared whispered, his arm brushing against hers.

The brief touch drew her attention. Tiny sparks of awareness feathered outward. “I know.”

“I wasn't sure. Your look of intense concentration tells me otherwise.”

She relaxed the knotted tension that held her stiff and uncurled her fingers. Her nails had left an indentation in her palms. She hadn't even realized how tense she'd been until Jared had said something. “I'm not the most graceful person when it comes to playing a sport. I was always the last one picked for a team. My reputation preceded me.”

“We don't pick teams. You'll be filling in for Anne, who is sick. Your team is up next.”

Kathleen examined the clear blue sky. “Too bad. There isn't a raincloud anywhere to be seen.”

“Nope. You're stuck.” He took her hand within his. “I know you're worried about Mark. I'll help you figure out what's wrong. I promise.”

His sweet words, full of confidence, produced a lump in her throat. Jared would discover what was going on with her son. That thought brought tears of relief to her eyes. She blinked, a tear coursing down her face. Jared didn't say anything, but he brushed his thumb across her cheek, the rough texture of his finger in sharp contrast to his soft touch. He then squeezed her hand gently, silently conveying his support as they both twisted about to stare at the teenagers battling on the volleyball court.

Five minutes later the game ended with Mark's team winning. Her son gave his cousin a high five, but the elation she usually saw in Mark's expression when he won wasn't visible.

Jared stood and extended his hand to Kathleen. “It's show time. Ready?”

“No, will that make a difference?”

“No.”

“That's what I thought. I'll be a sub.”

Laughter shone in his eyes. “There are no subs. Everyone gets to play. That's the beauty of this setup.”

“That's your opinion, not mine. I definitely think that's a major flaw. What if someone gets hurt?”

“We remove a player from the other side and play on.”

“Do you remove the injured player before you resume playing or do you just play around him?”

His laughter spiced the air, much like the aroma of baking bread, warm with cozy thoughts brought to mind. “You'll be all right. Remember, I'm a doctor.”

“Now that's really reassuring.”

“You might want to stretch some before the game.” Jared bent over and touched the ground, then did several lunges.

Having been a runner in high school, Kathleen knew the importance of stretching her muscles before a workout. And she was afraid the next half hour or so would definitely be a workout. She ran through a stretching routine, hoping she didn't make a fool of herself.

She was thankful that she was placed on the back row as far away from the net and spiked balls as possible. On television she'd seen the killer volleyball matches at the Summer Olympic Games. She didn't want a ball stuffed down her throat.

For the first two serves she only had to shift from foot to foot and pretend she was alert and ready. When the ball slammed across the net for the third time, it came right at her. She had to do something—fast. Miscalculating where it was going to land, she dove the last foot to punch the ball into the air. It shot out of bounds. The other team cheered, Jared the loudest.

By the time she rotated to the front of the line, she faced Jared with only the netting between them. His smile was full of mischief, and she had a funny feeling it would be all directed at her. He leaped into the air and smacked the ball toward her. She positioned herself to return it.

Before she had a chance to connect with the fast-approaching ball, someone knocked into her, yelling in her ear, “I've got it.”

She smashed into the ground, her left shoulder cushioning her fall. She blew out gritty sand that made up the court and pushed her hair out of her face. Her left cheek burned where it had struck the sand-covered earth.

A loud roar of triumph filled the air while she brushed bits of grit from her eyes. Through the blur she saw Jared coming toward her, concern on his face. He knelt down.

“Are you all right, Kathleen? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Does all over count as one place or many?”

He ran his hands up her left arm and over her shoulder. She winced.

“It doesn't feel like it's broken, but to be on the safe side I think you should let me take you to the hospital and get an X ray.”

“I don't want to go to the hospital.” Suddenly Kathleen felt many eyes on her. She scanned the young people standing around her and Jared. “What happened?”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Somers. I thought you weren't gonna get the ball so I wanted to help. I misjudged.”

“But I was right there.” Using her arms to try and push herself to her feet, she attempted to stand. The pain in her shoulder intensified, and she fell back, sucking in a deep breath.

The young boy dropped his head. “Yeah, but you were there that last time, too, and missed.”

“That's okay, Aaron.”

“Can I help you to your feet, ma'am?”

“No,” she said so quickly the teenager blinked. “I mean, Jared is going to take me to the hospital. I'm sure I'm fine. It's just a precaution.” Through the crowd now surrounding her, she saw her son, hanging back but watching her. “You could give Mark a ride home, Aaron.”

“Sure, I can do that. Are you sure I can't help you?”

“Yes, I'm sure.” The pain in her shoulder eased
its intensity. With her right arm she maneuvered herself to her knees.

Jared supported her around the waist. “Take it easy.”

As the teenagers began to scatter, she said, “Oh, I plan on taking it slow and easy.”

“I had no idea you'd go to such lengths to get out of playing volleyball.”

The teasing light in Jared's eyes made her laugh. “I told you I don't do sports.” She observed the quickly disappearing crowd of teens. “As soon as Aaron's been gone five minutes, I'm driving home. I have no intentions of going to the hospital. I'm fine.” She tried to move her shoulder and groaned.

“I can see that.”

Jared moved so close she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. “Some rest, ice, and I'll be good as new.”

“Appease this doctor and let me take you to check your shoulder out.”

“But what about my car?”

“You can get it tomorrow. I'll even come by and give you a ride to the church to get it. I won't sleep well tonight knowing you may be in pain because I persuaded you to play volleyball.”

His touch on her arm drew her gaze upward to his face. The plea in his eyes and the ache in her shoulder finally caused her to nod.

 

“See, I told you there wasn't anything to worry about. I'll be as good as new in a few days.” Kathleen rolled her shoulder to prove her point. A stab
of pain shot down her arm, and she winced. “Okay, maybe it will be a little longer than that.”

Jared pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine. “Still, I'm glad you got it X rayed. I feel better knowing for sure and the medication should help you.”

“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee? Decaf or I'd be up all night.”

“Sure. Mrs. Davis doesn't turn into a pumpkin until at least nine o'clock.”

Kathleen slid from the car, trying to hold her upper body still as she moved. “How hard was it to find Mrs. Davis?”

“Hard. A good housekeeper is not easy to come by. She isn't too bad. My children are safe with her, and she performs her job efficiently.”

“But?”

“But she isn't the warmest person around. And right now Hannah needs a womanly touch, which she isn't going to get with Mrs. Davis.”

Kathleen inserted her key into the lock and opened her door. “What about your mother-in-law?”

His expression tensed into a frown. “Not much help there. She doesn't have much to do with Terry and Hannah. We see her for special occasions like birthdays and the holidays.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She placed her purse on the table in the entry hall. “Come on into the kitchen while I put the coffee on.” As she scooped the coffee into the filter, she continued, “I can help, especially with Hannah.”

He offered her a smile that eased the tension from him. “Thanks. I may take you up on that.”

“Don't forget I promised Hannah I would take her shopping. I was thinking some time this week.”

“Fine. Whatever fits into your schedule. Hannah has talked about it, and I think she's actually excited, which is a first since I usually have to drag her kicking and screaming to shop for clothes.”

“That'll change as she grows older.”

“There's a part of me that will be thrilled to see my daughter grow out of being a tomboy.”

“But there's a part that won't be happy?”

“Sure. The part that is dreading her first date.”

“You aren't the only father who feels that way. It's a constant battle to be one step ahead of our kids.” The coffee dripping into the glass pot was the only sound Kathleen heard. She cocked her head and listened for a moment. No music coming from her son's room. In fact, the house was awfully silent. “Which reminds me, I want to make sure Mark got home okay. I'll be right back.”

“Aaron's not a bad driver, better than he is a volleyball player.”

“I'm sure he is. But I usually hear Mark moving around. His room is right above the kitchen. It's too quiet for my peace of mind.”

Kathleen headed upstairs, her heart beginning to beat a shade faster. Something wasn't right. She knocked on Mark's door and waited a minute. Nothing. Pushing it open, she saw chaos all about her. Clothes were thrown everywhere. Drawers were left open. The bed was stripped of its linens and they lay
on the floor beside it as though her son now slept on the carpet. She moved into the middle of the room, shaking her head. A year ago her son wouldn't have had any of his belongings out of place. Like everything else in his life, that had changed, too.