Loving Promises (3 page)

Dale jumped and swung around as a glob of sauce fell to the floor. A grin made its way to his mouth. “You scared me.”

“I noticed.” She set the box on the counter and pulled off a sheet of paper towel to wipe up the mess.

He grasped her hand. “Let me do that,” he said, taking the toweling.

The warmth of his fingers rolled up her arm.

He knelt and swiped at the spot, then rose.

His grin swept over her. “What’s in the box?” he asked.

“A seven-layer salad and a key lime pie. Low-calorie, but don’t tell anyone.”

He looked inside the carton before his gaze drifted across her frame. “Why are you worried about calories?”

Bev felt a flush creeping up her neck. Too rattled to respond, she only chuckled.

Dale turned back to the box and slid the food into the refrigerator.

Bev watched him, thinking she’d be smart to leave the kitchen, but she didn’t.

“What can I do to help?” she asked. Drawn by the aroma coming from the kettle and the desire to be in Dale’s company, she made her way toward the stove to take a peek. “Stroganoff?”

He nodded. “Dad loves it, and the sauce is tasty and soft enough for my mom. She has a difficult time eating.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that so she looked around the kitchen for something to do. “I noticed the table is set. Give me another job.”

“Just sit there and look pretty.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen table.

His comment addled her. “I meant something easier than that.” Amazed at her rising emotions, she lifted the lid on a smaller pan. Noodles. Nothing she could do with that.

Heat raced through her body, and she stepped back from the stove, but the warmth persisted. Her discomfort grew. She knew they were flirting with each other, but she’d become too inexperienced to handle it. Two children and a few years without a man’s attention made her a novice when it came to being coy with Dale.

She moved closer to the doorway. “If you don’t need me, I’ll go save the others from my kids.”

A light flashed in Dale’s head. He needed someone, and maybe Bev could help. He pivoted toward her. “You could do one thing.”

“Great. Name it.”

“Give me some ideas.”

“About the stroganoff?”

“I need some help with—” he lowered his voice “—my mom.”

“Your mother?” She gave him a puzzled look and stepped closer. Was he asking her to give up her job at Loving Care? “What kind of help?”

“You’ve lived in Loving a long time. I wondered if you know anyone who could come in weekdays and help with my mother. My dad’s killing himself, and he won’t even consider getting help.”

“Why not?” Her expression reflected her empathy.

“He has every excuse in the book, including he has the Lord and he needs nothing else.”

“There’s truth to that, Dale.”

“Don’t you start,” he said, hearing his voice snap.

She veered back as if he’d struck her.

“I’m sorry. That’s a sensitive issue for me.” For some reason he wanted to explain, but he clamped his mouth closed. First she wouldn’t care about his issues, and second, he didn’t talk about his feelings. Emotions didn’t count. Reality did.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, but from the flush in her cheeks, he knew he’d upset her.

“I know child-care workers,” she said finally, her voice calm and businesslike, “but I really don’t have contact with people who do adult care.”

“How about at church?”

Her frown softened as she looked at him. “I’ll think about it. Next time I’m there, I’ll look around and see if anyone comes to mind. I can’t promise you anything.”

“I realize that. Just let me know if you think of anyone. I’d appreciate it.”

He was touched by her concerned look, and his rude behavior poked at him. “I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt earlier. You hit a sore issue with me, and I spoke before I thought.”

“You do that a lot,” she said, but her voice was soft rather than fiery. He sensed she meant it as a kind criticism rather than a smart remark.

“I’ll have to work on that,” he said. Without thinking he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

Her eyes widened, and without a further comment, she hurried out of the room.

Dale watched her vanish and wondered what had gotten into him. He’d called her pretty, snapped at her and now fondled her cheek. He’d become a paradox of behavior.

Why was he toying with a woman who had children? His conduct was not only foolhardy, it could be hurtful. He had no intention of tangling his life around a ready-made family. He had enough to worry about.

Dale adjusted the heat on the burners, then pulled a small plate from the cabinet and sneaked out a spoonful of noodles, added some stroganoff sauce, then grabbed a fork and used the hallway door to his mother’s bedroom.

“Hungry?” he asked as he stepped inside.

“A little. I hear voices. Is the company here?”

Dale nodded. “Dad thought you should rest until after dinner. Then you’ll feel more like visiting.”

She managed a faint smile. “We both agreed that was best.”

He adjusted her pillows, then covered her with a napkin and spoon-fed her some of the mixture.

“That’s plenty,” Dotty said after a few mouthfuls. “I’ll just rest here until everyone’s finished eating. Now go and have a nice time.”

Her brave acceptance of her disease twisted through Dale’s senses. He kissed his mother’s cheek and returned to the kitchen.

In a few minutes, he announced dinner, and he watched Michael cringe when their eyes met. He felt guilty and figured he should be adult enough to say something to relieve the kid’s panic. He forced a grin. “You haven’t been running any more cars off the road have you, Michael?”

The boy looked at him with wary eyes until he realized Dale was teasing. Finally he grinned. “I’m more careful now.”

“That’s good,” he said, figuring he’d done his duty.

When they’d all assembled around the table, his father asked them to join hands, and, after the blessing and a special thanks for their guests, the meal began. The conversation was genial and relaxed until Kristin spilled her glass of milk.

“Kristin,” Bev said, “you have to learn to be careful. You do this all the time.”

Dale leaped from the table to grab a roll of paper towel as he winced at the “all the time” line. He blotted the mess while Bev did her best to help. When he returned to his seat, he avoided the soggy cloth as best he could, grasping his patience.

Things settled down again, and Dale’s attention shifted between Bev and his father’s friendship with Millie. He’d never seen his father with a female friend, and it troubled him.

“It’s great to have you all here,” Al said, “and Millie, you look really good. Just like old times.”

“Forty years plus.”

“Has it been that long? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told Dotty about some of our shenanigans. She loves to hear me talk about them.”

Bev’s mother grinned. “I bet I remember a few escapades you’ve forgotten.”

He reached across the table to pat her hand. “I bet you do.”

Shenanigans? Escapades? Dale wanted to ask what
they meant. He couldn’t imagine his father with another woman except his mother. The familiarity didn’t set well with Dale. While his mother was in the bedroom alone, his father was sharing memories with another woman.

Dale fought the tension that knotted inside him. When the meal ended, he brought out dessert, grateful that the children had settled for store-bought cookies and had gone into the living room to play. Dale had dragged out a huge box of his boyhood Tinkertoys from his parents’ storage closet. Today he saw their wisdom in insisting they hang on to them. What damage could a child do with those?

Moments later his question was answered by the sound of glass shattering.

B
ev jumped up before he did, and they darted into the living room together, their arms brushing as they passed through the doorway. The softness of the simple touch rippled down his arm, but when he entered the living room, the memory faded. Michael stood above a broken candy dish, part of it on the table and shards on the floor.

“What did you do?” Bev asked.

“Nothing,” Michael said.

Dale struggled against voicing his irritation. Dishes didn’t just jump into the air and break.

“You obviously did something,” Bev said.

Dale noticed the wooden toy configuration in the boy’s hand. An airplane, he figured. “Were you flying your plane?” He gave Michael one of his steady stares.

The boy nodded his head. “It’s a space missile,” he muttered.

Dale took the creation from the boy’s hands and pulled apart the pieces. “Now, it’s nothing.” How could anyone deal with the constant distraction of having a houseful of kids?

As he dropped the pieces on the floor and turned to get something to gather the glass, he noticed Bev’s look, then the boy’s, but he plowed ahead. “I only hope this isn’t something precious to my mother.”

As the words left his mouth, his father came into the room with a mini-vacuum. He eyed the situation and smiled. “Glass candy dish. Nothing that can’t be replaced.” He approached the children. “I hope neither of you cut yourself.”

The children looked at their fingers, then shook their heads.

“Good.” He lifted his gaze to Dale. “I’ll clean this up. Why don’t you two go back in and enjoy your dessert. When I’m through here, I’ll bring in your mother. She’s anxious to meet everyone.”

Dale turned, catching a deeper scowl on Bev’s face. He’d done it again. He seemed to be the bad guy, while his father had handled the situation with the kids perfectly.

When he and Bev returned to the dining room, the conversation seemed to lull. Dale figured Bev was annoyed with him, and Mildred was wondering what had happened.

Bev sat in her chair, her back stiff while Dale admit
ted to himself he didn’t have a knack with kids. It was good he had no plans for fatherhood.

They sat in silence, waiting, and when his father returned, all eyes turned toward Dotty. Though frail, she was a pretty woman. She sat in a wheelchair, her gray hair combed in a simple style, her thin frame covered by a rose-colored outfit. Dale couldn’t bear to see the change in her. When he shifted his focus, he saw the sadness he felt reflected in Bev’s eyes.

“Hello,” Dotty said, looking at Mildred. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Al has told me so many stories about you two.” She shifted her focus. “And you must be Beverly.”

“Bev, please, and I’m the mother of the two making noise in your living room. I’m sorry they broke one of your candy dishes.”

“They’re a dime a dozen. Did they find something to play with?”

“My old Tinkertoys,” Dale said. “I always thought it was stupid to keep those things.”

Al gestured toward Dale. “We’ve been keeping them for our grandchildren, but that seems unlikely.”

Dale’s pulse jolted from his father’s unexpected admission. He clamped his jaw when he saw Bev’s smirk.

“Tell me the best story about Al that comes to mind,” Dotty said.

Mildred thought a minute before telling one of her favorites. Their laughter drew the children into the
room, and Dale couldn’t help but grin at them, quiet for a change and engrossed in the story of their grandmother’s escapades.

The stories continued until Al suggested they move to the living room. “It’s much more comfortable in there,” Al said.

Dale checked his watch, amazed to see the amount of time they’d spent around the table.

“We should be going,” Mildred said. “I’m sure Dotty’s tired, and we all have church tomorrow.”

When Dale saw Bev rise, carrying dishes into the kitchen, he followed. He stood beside her, and when she turned, they were so close a flowery scent enveloped him and he couldn’t move. “You smell amazing,” he said, noticing an uneasy look spread across Bev’s face.

He wanted to step away, but his legs felt immobile so close to hers. Finally he found his voice, and his words broke the spell. “I’m sorry about the incident with the kids. I guess you’re right.”

“I am,” she said. “Kids are part of the world. They make mistakes like we all do. Forgiveness is a gift God gives us. We can learn from that.”

He nodded, not knowing what else to say, then took a step back. “Thanks for coming. This evening was wonderful for my mom. I haven’t seen her have so much fun in a long time.”

“It was a nice evening for all of us.” She gave him a
nervous smile. “I got to know a side of my mother I’ve never seen before.”

The tension subsided, replaced by an alien sensation that fluttered through him. Bev was a blend of good things, and he liked what he saw. Even defending her kids seemed right. He was tempting himself to possibilities he couldn’t…wouldn’t keep.

They stood a moment as if perplexed about what to do next. He searched her eyes, wondering if she sensed the same feelings. When she lowered her gaze, Dale touched her arm and steered her toward the dining room, stirred by a longing that addled him.

When he came through the doorway, Mildred stood and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Thank you so much for having us.”

“I hope we do this again,” Dotty said.

Dale knew his mother was sincere, but his heart twisted as he noted the exhaustion in her face.

“Al tells me you just retired,” Dotty said.

“Yes, from nursing,” Mildred said.

A look flashed between Dale and his father. Had his father realized what that could mean? If Dale believed that God cared about them, he would think the Lord had really worked a miracle. Bev, also, sidled a questioning look at Dale. She lifted her eyebrows as if she were contemplating the same thoughts.

Dale leaned closer to her. “Do you think it’s possible?”

“Hard to tell,” she said, “but maybe.”

The same warm feeling spread over him until the cold wind of reality struck him. Bev was wheedling her way into his thoughts and feelings. Attraction led to commitment, and commitment led to marriage, then family. He wanted none of either.

Bev shifted on the park bench, wishing it were padded, then grinned at her silly thought. The Saturday afternoon gifted her with a warm sun, and only an occasional chilly breeze ruffled her hair and sprinkled gooseflesh on her arms. Spring had truly arrived.

“Be careful, Michael,” she called, as he released a swing that narrowly missed hitting Kristin’s back.

Michael glanced Bev’s way and went on about his play without batting an eye. Sometimes she thought he needed his hearing checked, but that was an excuse. He heard her. He just ignored her requests.

Bev shifted her gaze across new grass toward the fountain, and her pulse skipped. A man pushing someone in a wheelchair came into view, and she had no doubt who they were. Dale and Dotty. She angled away from them, not to avoid them exactly, but to give her time for thought.

For some reason, she sensed she and Dale were being thrust together. Coincidence seemed too simple. Michael ran into Dale’s car, Dale’s father and her mother were best friends, no matter where she went—church, grocery shopping or the park, Dale suddenly
appeared. She lifted her eyes to heaven.
Lord, is this Your doing? And if so, what’s the purpose?

A thought washed over her. Maybe God had brought the two families together because Dotty needed care and Bev’s mother was a caregiver. Was that the reason? With the possibility making sense, Bev relaxed. The thought had crossed her mind at dinner the week before. She sensed the same idea had struck Dale.

When Bev glanced again, she saw Dale and Dotty heading her way. She rose and gave them a wave, noting Dale’s grin.

“Dale spotted you,” Dotty said.

Bev leaned down and gave his mother a hug. “It’s nice to see you.”

“How about me?” Dale asked.

A moment passed before Bev realized what he meant, but before she could find something to say, Kristin’s scream shattered the air. Bev spun toward the sound.

The child ran toward her, tears flowing from her eyes while her hand clutched her forehead.

“What happened?” Bev asked, pulling away her fingers. A dark welt rose below the little girl’s hairline, a bruise already forming.

Dale stepped closer and pushed the girl’s hair aside. “It’s not bleeding, but she’s going to have a knot there.”

“What happened?” Bev asked again.

“Michael hit me with the swing,” Kristin said between hiccoughing sobs.

Bev eyed the boy sitting on the swing seat and moving it in circles. He ignored the group huddled around Kristin. When he’d tightened the swing’s chain, he lifted his feet and spun around until the momentum halted.

“Michael,” she called. “Come here.” She beckoned at him, but he only began winding the chains again for another spinning ride.

“Michael!” Dale bellowed.

Bev’s heart lurched at his yell while anger shot through her, but she glanced at Dotty and held her tongue.

Michael unwound like a loosened coil of rope and approached them with his head hanging.

“I want to talk with you later,” Bev hissed to Dale. Gritting her teeth, she turned her attention to Michael.

“What did you do to Kristin?”

“Noth—” He lifted his eyes to Dale and changed his tack. “I didn’t mean to do it. I pushed the swing at her. I thought she’d catch it.”

“It hit me in the head,” Kristin whined.

“But I didn’t mean to—”

“Okay. That’s enough,” Bev said. “Either play nice, or we’ll go home.”

Michael scampered off first. Finally Kristin unwound herself from her mother and headed back to the play area.

“Would you mind going over and keeping an eye on the kids a minute, Dale?” Bev asked, to cover her ploy to give him a piece of her mind away from his mother. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He gave her a questioning look.

“You could play with them. They’d enjoy that,” Dotty said.

Dale arched a brow at his mother, but did as Bev asked.

“Sorry to put you through that,” Bev said, settling back on the bench. “I just need to get my wits about me before I talk with Michael. Sometimes he’s so hard to handle, and I need to keep calm.”

“Kids can be a handful,” Dotty said. “It’s much harder when you’re alone. I always had Al to stand by me when we needed to discipline Dale, although he was a good boy most of the time.”

Bev had a difficult time imagining Dale as a boy. She truly wondered if he’d ever really been one.

“I’d better rescue Dale,” she said, rising. She marched across the grass, and as she neared, she beckoned Dale aside. “I wanted to talk with you away from your mother.”

His face brightened. “You’ve thought of someone?”

Someone? When she realized he thought she had information about a caregiver, the awareness smoothed the edge of her anger, but she still had to speak her mind. “It’s not about your mother. It’s about my children.” She drew him farther away from the kids so they wouldn’t hear.

His expression darkened.

“It’s obvious you don’t like kids. I want—”

“I never said that.” He glanced toward his mother then back to her.

She let her gaze drift to Dotty, trying to make their conversation appear to be genial. “I can see it in your actions.” She tried to keep her voice low and controlled. “I really don’t care how you feel, but I want you to know that I love my kids, and I don’t expect you to discipline them.”

“Look, Bev, I didn’t—”

“You bellowed at Michael. That’s my place, not yours. I can criticize my children, but you can’t.”

He stepped back. “Sorry, I just thought you were having a problem getting him to—”

She felt tears blur her eyes. “I have problems, yes, but I don’t need your help. I can handle it myself.”

“I’ve recently asked for your help.” He gave a feeble gesture toward his mother. “I only thought…” His voice faded, then he rallied. “Sometimes people need someone else, but I hear you.” He lifted his hand. “I’ll stay clear of your kids.”

“Good,” she said, though she didn’t feel good at all. She’d begun to like Dale.

“Why don’t you go back to your mother, and let me take care of things here?”

Dale felt the sting of Bev’s comment. He’d thought she would appreciate his making an effort to get Michael’s attention. He guessed he’d been wrong.

He kicked a stone as he headed back toward his mother, hoping she hadn’t spotted the tension that flashed like sparks from Bev’s eyes. He’d called her a
mother hen earlier. Mother tiger would have been more realistic.

The kicker was he liked Bev—a lot more than any woman he’d met in a long time, but that didn’t change his attitude. Still, he’d hoped to remain on a friendly basis for his parents’ sake.

The truth shimmered over him. His last thought was a coverup. She’d been growing on him, and if the blossoming friendship would have any hope of continuing, he needed to stay out of Bev’s business. Yet something inside him wanted to help. The kids needed discipline—the boy especially—but both needed something more. Direction, he thought. Bev gave orders, but didn’t seem to follow through. He could give her some good pointers. He faltered, knowing he’d better learn to keep quiet.

“Is Bev angry with you?” Dotty asked as soon as he reached her.

He grimaced, wondering how a woman with blurred eyesight could see so much.

“You shouldn’t discipline her children, Dale. That’s her business.”

He opened his mouth to refute her comment, but she didn’t give him a moment.

“She’s a lovely woman,” his mother said. “She’s had a hard life.”

Her words made Dale realize he knew little about Bev’s life except she was a widowed mother. “How do you know about her life?”

“Women sense things, but I’ve also spoken with Millie. She comes by during the week to visit. She’s a wonderful lady. I can see why your father thinks so much of her.”

Mildred visited his mother during the week. That was something else he didn’t know. “What about Bev’s life?” Dale let his gaze drift to the playground slide. Bev stood at the bottom, waiting for Kristin to take a turn.