In His Dreams, page 6
“I just worry about her, that’s all.”
Jeff drew in a lengthy breath. Marsha thought the whole problem was Bonnie when it was so much more—it was about her strong faith, his lack of it and, most importantly, his strong feelings for her. They had happened so quickly he hadn’t had time to process them.
Marsha touched his arm. “I’ve made a promise to myself that I won’t bug you, anymore.” Her eyes searched his as if doubting he would believe her. “Really.”
He didn’t know what to say. His gut ached with conversation—each of them talking about something different. “Thanks, but the problem is more about us. Our relationship.”
She looked away as if thinking. “We’ve already agreed to be friends, Jeff, and now I promise to stop meddling. You’re Bonnie’s dad, and I need to remember that.”
Seeing the pleading look in her eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, wishing he could say more, but grateful he’d said a little.
“Let’s enjoy our time together. I don’t like having the stress between us.” She threw her arms around his shoulders and gave him a bear hug, and he reeled backward with her unexpected reaction.
If he knew what he wanted, he would be more direct, but telling her what riled his heart seemed too ridiculous. Too amazing. He needed time to make sense out of the past few days. Things had happened so fast. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, and he had no idea what was on Marsha’s mind. He could only hope.
“Daddy.” Bonnie called, “aren’t you looking at the funny people?”
Marsha laughed and it sounded like music. “We are, Bonnie.” She nudged his arm and began to walk. “We’re two funny people, don’t you think?”
Funny? Mixed up was the way he saw it.
“That was fun,” Barb said, searching beside the sofa and coming up with a novel in her hand.
Marsha watched her settle back into her usual spot, but, instead of feeling irked, she let it slide. Barb had been outgoing today. She seemed to relate to Bonnie, and Marsha chalked it up to compassion. As distant as Barb had been as a teenager with adults, she’d always liked children. Marsha felt a pang of sorrow that Barb had never married and had the opportunity to be a mother.
Unbidden, the thought jolted her. Though she’d been married, she’d never had a child, either. Marsha settled onto the love seat and tilted back her head, thinking about how that had happened.
Like so many newly married couples, she and Don had decided to wait a while before they started a family. Three children was what they’d wanted. They’d figured it would give them three chances to have at least one boy and one girl. Silly idea, now that she thought about it.
And college. She’d gotten a late start, hating to give up the full-time job she’d had since her graduation from high school. Later, Don had encouraged her to get a degree, and she’d had a year and half of college to complete before becoming a teacher.
Then things had happened. Don had become ill, and the rest was history. Her college days had ended to be a caregiver, a time she never resented. Not for one minute. The only lingering sadness had been the children they never got to have. When Don had died, she had been left with no one. Nothing that was both part of him and part of her. She’d become single—no longer a family. One lone person in a world that seemed to be filled with married couples.
“Bonnie’s a little character, isn’t she?”
Marsha jolted from her reverie and took a moment to find words. “She reminds me of the wire-and-kitchen-tool characters we saw earlier today. You never know what she’ll be made of next. One minute she’s an angel, the next minute totally out of control, but I love her anyway. Her problems are great, but her own world is so simple. Too bad we can’t all be like that.”
“You’re being very philosophical today.”
“I’ve been doing some serious thinking. And praying.”
“Me, too.” She patted the novel on her lap. “I know you think I’m wasting my time with these books, but they give me something that’s difficult to explain.”
That piqued Marsha’s curiosity.
“Do you ever read?”
Marsha faltered, needing to think. “I do occasionally. I used to read more years ago, but when Don was sick I wanted to spend every minute with him. After he died, somehow the stories seemed like fairy tales.”
“Not these. I read Christian fiction. Good stories, lots of emotion, no graphic sex or swearing and a faith message, to boot.”
Marsha crossed the room and took the book from Barb’s hand. “Are these what you usually read?”
She nodded. “They’re entertaining, but they also give me something to think about.”
Marsha turned the book over and scanned the back. “What do they give you to think about?”
Barb tilted her head as if she thought Marsha was kidding.
“I’m serious. This looks like a romance. How does this help you think?”
“Look at the Bible verse in the front.”
Marsha opened the first pages and spotted the verse. “‘If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’ John 8:7-8. I take it the book’s about a woman who commits adultery.”
“No, but the verse fits the story as well as our lives. It reminds me that we’re all sinners and no one has the right to judge someone else without first looking at his own sin.”
The lesson smacked Marsha between the eyes. She always figured women without romance in their lives read romance books. She’d been judging without knowing the truth, and she knew that was a sin. But Christian fiction? She knew there was such a thing, but Christian romance seemed a misnomer.
Marsha felt ashamed as she admitted to herself that she’d thought Barb was wasting her time on novels. She always seemed buried in the books as if her only life was through the characters, but, in reality, the stories and characters gave her support. “That’s something we should all think about before judging others.” She pressed her palm against the cover of the book and sent up a prayer, asking the Lord to bring that verse back to mind when she butted her nose in other people’s business.
“The books always give me more than the one verse. Every story deals with real human issues. They remind me of God’s promises. They give me hope.”
Hope? Hope to get married someday? Hope for what? She handed the book back to her sister while questions rattled in her mind.
Barb rubbed the cover, a longing look in her eyes. “I’d like to write one.”
“Write a novel?” Marsha’s eyebrows flew upward before she could control them.
“Don’t look surprised. I have stories in my head, but I don’t have the slightest idea what to do with them.”
Marsha felt her mouth sag, amazed at her sister’s revelation. “Why not give it a try? Start writing with paper and pen. That’s the way they did it before computers. Once you’re home, you can use my computer.”
She uttered the words, but the idea amazed her. Barb, a novelist? What about emotion and plot? Her life seemed so empty.
If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her. Marsha cringed as the verse filled her mind.
From the porch swing, Jeff heard Bonnie crying. He hoisted himself from the seat, not wanting to pull his mind from his thoughts. After they’d talked, Marsha had been wonderful yesterday—just like old times, except with the stress of Don’s illness gone. He pictured her face in the sunlight. All the worry lines had vanished, and she had looked younger than she had four years ago.
The memory of his brother’s long struggle saddened him. Yet, Don had been a Christian, and Jeff assumed God rewarded those who stuck by Him through life’s trials. Don was in heaven. Why couldn’t Jeff have the same faith for himself?
Don had been stronger, he guessed. Jeff shook his head to loosen the thoughts as he heard Bonnie. He hurried into the house, following her muffled sobs.
He found her stretched across her bed, her face buried in her pillow, her hands pressing the top of her head.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
She shook her head, burying her face deeper into the pillow.
“Bonnie. Tell me what’s wrong.”
A ragged sob tore from her throat. “Go away.”
“I’m not going away.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Her mother had gone away, but he wouldn’t, God willing. God willing. He was sounding like Marsha. “Do you have a headache?”
He rubbed her back in circles with one hand while he touched her cheek with the other. She felt slightly warm, but nothing serious. “Do you have a headache?”
“No!”
“Bonnie,” he said, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Are you upset? Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know,” she moaned, turning her hands into fists and slamming them against the bed.
“Come here.” He pushed his arm beneath her and drew her closer. He wished he could sing like Marilou had. When Bonnie was upset, Marilou had sung her songs and soon she’d quieted. He began to hum a random tune.
Bonnie’s body relaxed beneath his arm. She turned her head and nestled it against his shoulder.
His disoriented tune slipped into a familiar melody, and Jeff heard “Amazing Grace” coming from his lips. Amazing grace? That was what he needed. Something amazing in his life. Something to calm his child and help him meet her needs.
She had no friends on the island. At least, at school she had people she related to and, at home, a seven-year-old neighbor girl came over to play house or to color. Barb had colored with her, and she seemed to like that. Bonnie needed a friend. She needed something to do instead of moping.
“Want to do something?”
She didn’t stir.
“Would you like to go somewhere?”
“To Aunt Marsha’s?”
Marsha again. Bonnie was becoming dependent on her. He needed to do something about it, but what? When they returned home, she wouldn’t have Marsha as she did now—not at her beck and call. Ignoring Marsha hadn’t been the answer. He needed her, too. She seemed to brighten his day and, now that they’d talked, Jeff had hopes they could continue the old friendship they’d enjoyed for so many years. Maybe it would even blossom into more.
“I’ll give her a call,” he said, as much for himself as for Bonnie.
“Well, now, look who’s here.”
Marsha spun around, whacking Jeff’s elbow with a caulking tube. She couldn’t help but grin at her accidental attack on his arm and even more the coincidence that they were both at the hardware store. “Sorry. A caulking gun in my hands can be a dangerous weapon.”
He raised his hands over his head and grinned. “I’m unarmed.”
“You have arms, Daddy,” Bonnie said, hanging on to Marsha’s basket and looking at the items she’d tossed into it. “Are you fixing your house?”
“Trying,” she said, making a silly face for Bonnie.
She laughed at Marsha’s goofy look, then eyed Jeff as if to make sure he laughed, too.
“I have to see this.”
“Me, too,” Bonnie said.
Marsha dropped the caulk into the basket. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Looking for me?”
“I called, and Barb said you were here.” He picked up a package of screws and a light-fixture cover. “Remodeling?” he gave her a wink as he waved the packages at her.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at his silly expression. “Not quite. I’ve let things go, and I either need to do it myself or hire someone to do it for me.”
“Good idea. I know just the man.”
She gazed at the basket as relief flooded her. “Really? Do you have his card?”
“No, I can do better than that. He’s in the store.”
“Great. Introduce me.”
He slipped his hand into hers. “Marsha, I’d like you to meet Jeff Sullivan.” He gave her hand a firm shake.
“You?” She shook her head that she’d been so naive. “That’s one thing I’ve always loved about you, Jeff.” The word love nudged her consciousness. She managed to ignore the feeling. “You were always playful, while Don was more serious.” Don. Jeff. Why did she keep comparing them? “I was more serious then, too.”
“You had reason to be.”
“I suppose, but I loved the laughter you brought into the house.”
“I figured you needed a little lightheartedness.” He rested his hand against her arm, offering her a gentle smile. “Now, getting back to the home improvement.” His smile turned to a playful grin. “I’d be happy to help if you can give me a hand in return.”
Curiosity pulled at her face. “Sure, if I can.”
He clasped his hands on Bonnie’s shoulders and turned her toward Marsha. “Here’s your challenge.”
Bonnie grinned at her, waving a screwdriver like a magician’s wand over the edge of the basket.
“No challenge. I’d be happy to accept your offer.”
“How could I do it without you?”
“Very well, I’m sure,” she said, going along with the joke.
He slipped an arm around her shoulder and grasped the handle of the basket with the other hand.
As they ambled up and down the aisles finding what she needed, her spirits dimmed. She was concerned about Jeff’s attitude toward God. She prayed for him, and since he’d known the Lord once, she asked the Holy Spirit to lead him back to his faith. How could a man so good and so kind not understand that God didn’t always say yes? According to His will and purpose, He sometimes said no, and no one knew that better than Marsha. It shouldn’t change their faith in Him.
Bonnie tugged at the side of the basket as they walked, making it wiggle. She laughed when he asked her to stop until finally she became bored and grasped Marsha’s hand as they headed to the checkout counter.
Earlier Marsha had thought about asking Jeff to help with the repairs, but she knew he had his hands full with Bonnie and, to be honest with herself, she felt confused spending so much time with him. It seemed too comfortable and she feared she’d miss his company when she returned home. The city was different than an island. Things happened. Jobs and responsibility got in the way. People drifted.
His teasing question, How could I do it without you? filled her thoughts. Yet, that wasn’t the real question. What would she do without him?
Chapter Six
Marsha leaned her shoulder against the bathroom door frame and watched Jeff as he straddled the bathtub and dug into the old caulking. The discolored curls of putty broke and dropped into the tub as he pried it loose so he could recaulk.
Jeff’s broad shoulders flexed beneath his shirt, and Marsha let her gaze slip to the muscles that knotted beneath the pressure of the scraper. Jeff’s lean build disguised his strength. Marsha couldn’t help but admire his physique.
“How’s it going?” she asked, wondering if he realized she’d been watching him. She leaned against the sink counter as he brushed perspiration from his forehead.
“Slow going, but I’m getting there.” He swung his leg over the tub edge and rested both feet on the floor. “What’s up?”
She gave her head a toss toward the doorway. “I’m running to McDonough’s Market and thought I’d take Bonnie. Okay?”
Jeff’s shoulders raised as he took a deep breath. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“I only need a couple of things. It’ll give her something to do.”
Jeff didn’t respond for a moment. “You know, she can be a handful.”
“I can handle her.”
He rose and tilted her chin upward. “You’re an amazing woman.”
She had never been called amazing, and she stretched upward and kissed his cheek. “You’re even more amazing.”
A tender look filled his eyes, and warmth swept through her. “I need to go.” She pulled away, afraid of the intimacy she felt standing beside him. She needed to keep her distance. In-laws weren’t supposed to be that affectionate. As the concern bolted into her mind, she asked herself, why not? Friends showed affection. It was natural.
Hoping she hadn’t made a mistake with her decision to take Bonnie along, she grabbed her grocery list and her shoulder bag. Bonnie charged from the porch into the kitchen and nearly tripped over Marsha as she headed out the door. Marsha wished she could harness that kind of energy.
For some reason, getting Bonnie into a seat belt felt like trying to lasso a wild boar. “I don’t need a seat belt,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
Marsha sat behind the wheel, counting and asking God to keep her calm.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” Bonnie yelled, slapping at the steering wheel.
“We can’t go anywhere, Bonnie,” Marsha said, keeping her voice as controlled as she could under the circumstances.
“Yes, you can.” She gave the wheel another wallop.
“It’s against the law. I’d be in jail for letting you ride without a seat belt.”
Bonnie threw herself against the seat cushion, but, in a moment, she fumbled with the buckle and strapped herself in.
“Thank you,” Marsha said, sending up a prayer for patience.
During the short trip to town, Bonnie returned to her more pleasant self, and Marsha’s confidence grew. So did her admiration for Jeff. She’d been critical of him, but today, she had second thoughts. Not that she didn’t worry about Bonnie needing to understand how her body was growing, but she realized the difficulty in explaining this to the mentally immature girl.
Only a few cars were parked in front of the market. Marsha pulled into a slot and turned off the ignition.
“Can I push the basket?” Bonnie asked as she slipped from the car.
Marsha weighed the request and agreed. Though Bonnie darted too quickly through the doorway and whacked the cart against the glass, she slowed when she reached the aisles.
Marsha tossed items into the cart and, before long, Bonnie left her position behind the handle and wandered to a cookie display. Sugar was one thing her niece didn’t need, but Bonnie snatched a package off the shelf and knocked a few to the floor.
