Drummer Boy (12 page)

“Wow, that's really something—if ‘something' is a total monstrosity of a wrap job. He'll love it.”

“
He
?” Jane asked. “He who? This is for Candy.”

“Oh, I just thought…” Dean shook his head again. “Never mind.”

“You thought it was for Tim?”

“Well, don't sound so disgusted. It's not completely out of the realm of possibility that you'd buy him something. You guys are madly in love, aren't you?”

Jane punched Dean's shoulder. “You hang out with girls too much.”

Dean laughed. “So set me straight. Come help with dinner. I'll fill you in about the latest at work, and you can spill the dirt on you and Tim.”

“What makes you think there's anything gab-worthy about me and Tim?”

“Candy told me you went and talked to him the other day.”

“Oh, she did, did she?”

“Don't be mad. She didn't give details. Just said you were going to cut the poor guy a break and let him know you care about him.”

Jane followed Dean to the kitchen, reluctantly. “If that's ‘no details,' I'm pretty lucky she wasn't in a sharing mood.”

Dean passed her a bag from the fridge. “Scrub these spuds and tell Dr. Dean everything.”

“You're a nurse, not a doctor.”

“Tomato,
tamato
.”

“There's nothing to tell.”

Dean looked up from the asparagus he was paring. “You know how last year you kept encouraging me to give Candy another chance?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me return the advice, slightly modified. Give yourself another chance.”

Jane raised her chin a little. “How do you know it's me stopping anything?”

“Well, I've talked to Tim a little. I recognize smitten when I see it.”

“You know you're a complete weirdo, right?” Jane filched a carrot stick from the plate of veggies Dean arranged.

“And if by that you mean a complete weirdo who's
correct
, then yes, absolutely.” He smacked her hand when she went to grab a cherry tomato. “You're supposed to be helping, not eating everything in sight.”

“You sound like Candy.”

“Yeah, what can I say? Great minds think alike.”

Jane rolled her eyes, turned on the tap, and washed the potatoes.

“So here's the thing...” she said eventually as she drizzled olive oil over the freshly scrubbed baby potatoes, then proceeded to sprinkle them with generous amounts of rosemary, garlic, and cracked black pepper. Her stomach growled.

Dean turned the oven on. “Here's what thing?” he asked when she didn't continue.

Jane stole another carrot. “I'm not cut out to be the kind of wife Tim needs.”

“Oh,” said Dean. “Of course. What was I thinking? I guess that's that then.”

Jane narrowed her eyes. She crunched loudly. “You've met him. He's a really good person. His faith is huge. He practices what he preaches. He lives like Jesus more than anyone I've ever met.”

“And that's wildly different from you, how?” Dean slid the potatoes into the bottom rack in the oven.

Jane snorted. “I'm flaky, Dean. Face it.”

Dean straightened to face her. “Flaky? I don't think you're flaky at all.”

“Look how many guys I've dated over the years.”

“You're hilarious, very pretty, and a complete extrovert. Of course, you've dated. You're always straight forward about not wanting anything serious, though.”

Jane shrugged. “I guess.”

“So is that what this is really about? Tim wants what you're always afraid of? Marriage someday, kids…the works?”

“I don't know. Maybe.”

“And what do you want?”

“It's not that simple.”

Dean retrieved a gorgeous slab of raw sockeye salmon out of the fridge and quartered a lemon. “Maybe it is, Jane.”

Jane wanted to argue but sighed heavily instead.

Dean's focus had shifted to the salmon he was massaging with salt, brown sugar, garlic, and ginger. “Will you be here for dinner?” he asked.

“Would I miss your cooking for the world?”

“Candy's right again. You're nothing but stomach. Where do you put it?” he teased but grinned at her compliment.

“It all goes into energy to put up with you and Candy and your
advice
.”

Dinner was, as Jane knew it would be, delicious. And the company was great. Her brothers seemed to get funnier, and more mature, every day. Kaylie was, well,
Kaylie,
and it was fascinating to watch her and Dean's daughter Isobel's relationship develop.

Isobel had bought into Kaylie's year-long Christmas countdown calendar wholeheartedly and the latest edict was that each family member had to write a thought or wish or verse in the appropriate day's box because December had arrived, and the countdown was in hyper-mode.

Candy was full of stories and kept smiling over at Dean.

Yes, it was a wonderful night all together, and it made Jane feel completely alone. She was outgrowing the role she'd played for so many years.

Candy was sweet to disagree, but she didn't need Jane the way she had before. She and Dean had the running the household thing covered, and soon they'd be married, and Jane would be in her own apartment again for the first time since university.

And Kaylie—they'd visit as much or more wherever Jane was. Ditto Michael and Matt. In fact, they already made plans to get together, rather than waiting for the odd chance they'd all be home at the same time.

That's not what's making you lonely and you know it
, part of her whispered. And it wasn't. She—fine, she'd finally admit it—wanted her own family. Wanted someone to smile at just because. Wanted someone to hold her. To come home to. To share her heart with.
Someone, hey
? Fine, she admitted again. Not just someone. And she finally made a decision.

To be brave. For once. Forever.

 

****

 

The din of chat and laughter and background music was audible from the parking lot. Jane slid out of her car and headed for the doors of the small church she'd never visited before. Then she paused to wait for Sarah.

“Run, why don't you?” Sarah asked.

“Soon,” Jane said. “Soon.”

“Really?”

“Yep. My doctor's given the green light. I'm going to wait until after Christmas, but then I'm getting back at it.”

“That's great.”

“And how have things been with you?”

Sarah's step faltered again, and she nudged at a pebble with the toe of her purple canvas sneaker.

Worry snaked through Jane's veins, and she stopped walking, too. “Sarah?”

“Meh, meh, meh. I'm fine. Don't worry.” She gave a small, wry smile. “I'm just not great. I was thinking about you the other day, and I've decided it's better not to pretend everything's hunky-dory when it's not.”

“Ouch,” Jane said.

Sarah laughed a little.

“No, I meant your advice made sense. We're actually strong when we admit we're weak. I love my life now, and I don't want to wreck it—but I also want to get high pretty much every minute of every day. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely. And who knows? That desire may never disappear entirely. I know you can resist the temptation, though, and if you do fall down some time, don't panic. God will always be there, ready and willing to pick you up again. And so will everybody else who loves you.”

“This voice in my head keeps saying I'm fooling myself. That people don't change. Can't change. That I'm genetically predisposed to have a drug problem because of my dad.”

Jane looped her arm through Sarah's. “It does feel like that sometimes, but really, people can and do change all the time. In fact, change is inevitable. Some change is for the good, other change…well, the opposite of that, but the big thing is not to listen to those lies. Satan loves to deceive us. Make us feel that we've failed before we've even tried—but greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.”

“That's the first time you've ever quoted scripture to me.”

“Really?” Jane wanted to resume walking but forced herself to stay still. “I guess I never felt I was someone good enough to quote the Bible at someone else. Made me feel like a hypocrite or something.”

“But the Bible is to help make us stronger, bring us peace, and give us comfort. Why would we need it if we were perfect?”

“Good point.” Jane squeezed Sarah's arm lightly. “And something else you and I need to remember: we are not our parents. We may have some similarities, good or bad, but we are not them. We can make our own choices, our own decisions. We are new in Christ. We don't have to carry the baggage of our past mistakes.”

They were almost at the doors of the church, and golden light flowed from the big windows, lighting a path and revealing the slippery, treacherous parts of the walkway to avoid.

“Do you still want to go to the service tonight, or do you want to grab coffee or something and talk some more?” Jane asked. She knew what she wanted to do, but the atmosphere would be loud and rowdy and celebratory. If Sarah needed something different, so be it.

Sarah shook her head. “Tim's talking tonight, and he's nervous. I know he's hoping we'll—you'll—be there.”

Jane's heart skipped a beat.

“He's way happier when he's hidden behind a drum set.”

Jane laughed. “Which is so funny because he always has good things to say. I guess it's hard for everyone to see themselves as they really are—good and bad qualities.”

Sarah pulled the door open and a soft wave of heat welcomed her and Jane in from the cold. “He says it's easier to share when you're there.”

“Which is bizarre. I'm the worst public speaker who ever existed.”

“Ever?” Sarah snickered. “I doubt it, but I see what he means. You guys are a good pair.”

A good pair. The words caught Jane's attention. Hit her as true. Made her smile. She felt right when she was with Tim. Working with him. Hanging out with him. It was only when they were apart that doubts and fear sneaked in. The conversation she'd just had with Sarah replayed and she said a small prayer of thanks. She was so grateful for the small moments God had used lately to show her big things.

Now, if only Tim would give her another chance.

The worship team was warming up, and people were filing in from the foyer and finding seats.

Tim met her gaze from the stage the moment she walked into the sanctuary, as if he'd been watching for her.

She bit her lip and gave a tentative two thumbs up.

Tim's brow furrowed.

Jane's breath froze in her chest.

He didn't want her there.

It was as if they were alone in the room.

He seemed to sense her thoughts and suddenly shook his head. “
Silly
,” he mouthed, winked, and then broke into a welcoming drum roll that ended in a riotous clash of cymbals.

Jane's smile brought heat that started at her toes and suffused her whole body. She pointed her finger at her temple and twirled it.
“Crazy.”

Tim grinned and nodded vigorously.

Jane had no idea what he was agreeing to—that yes, he was crazy, maybe—but she didn't really care. She just felt happy.

 

 

 

 

21

 

The last of the crowd was slow to clear out, and usually Jane would've enjoyed the happy energy and conversation, but she just wanted them to go, go, go.

Sarah, as if sensing something was up, hugged Jane good-bye, asked her to tell Tim she'd see him at Christmas dinner, and then told the last stragglers a bunch of people were meeting for coffee at the local café if they wanted to come.

Jane crossed to the stage where Tim was putting away a bunch of power cords.

“Finally,” she said. “Alone at last.”

One of Tim's eyebrows raised, and the corner of his mouth lifted as if he wanted to smile but was unsure.

“We need to talk.”

His fledgling smiled disappeared.

“And I wanted to know if you wanted to come for dinner.”

Tim shook his head lightly. “I should say no.”

“No, you really should say yes.”

“You're hard on my heart, Jane.”

Jane grinned and put her hand on his chest. “Good thing I'm a nurse. If the strain's too much to bear, I can help resuscitate you.”

Tim's eyes crinkled, and he seemed to be considering something. “I guess there are worse ways to go. I'd love to join you.”

By the time they arrived at her house, it had started to snow, the kind of big flakes that turn the world clean and bright within minutes, showing that even junk on lawns and hidden away in corners had the potential for beauty.

Jane held her arms out and spun in loose circles, staring up into the whirling white-on-black sky, trying to catch a snowflake on her tongue.

Tim joined her.

In a few minutes, they were dizzy and laughing too hard to twirl anymore.

When Tim collapsed onto his back on the lawn, he grabbed her hand, tugging her along with him.

She propped her elbows on his chest, lying partially on him, and studied his face.

“What?” he asked.

She shrugged lightly. “I guess I've just been thinking.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Ha ha. I'm being serious.”

Tim's grin softened to a smile and the affection in his eyes made her liquid inside, warm despite the cold. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, Ms. Serious. Get on with it.”

“I think we should go out, you know, date. Exclusively.”

“Oh, you do, do you? Like you and me?”

“Who else, goon face?” Jane grabbed a handful of snow and pretended to throw it at him.