Dad in Training (14 page)

Molly jumped up and spun around. “Brent. You scared me.”

His gaze swept over her as a toying look spread over his face.

“I know I look a mess.” She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the wispy ends that had escaped the scrunchie.

“You look lovely.”

She stuck out her tongue. “And you look like Pinocchio.” She wiggled her nose.

He stepped closer. “How’s it going?”

“Take a look.” She motioned down the hall, followed by a sweeping motion to her office. “This room is done, except to stain the wood. Wander out and look at the rest.”

“I will.” He gave her an uneasy look. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For what?” She gazed down at her dusty jeans and baggy top, thinking he’d come to paint.

“How about a coffee? There’s a little restaurant down the street. We can walk.”

A serious look rose in his eyes, and she nodded. “You take a look, and I’ll get cleaned up.” That was an exaggeration. She’d comb her hair.

While Brent toured the building, she sprinted into the restroom, pulled her ponytail from the elastic and combed her hair and then tied it up again. She flipped open her bag and drew out lipstick, dragging it across her lips. She looked pale after spending so much time inside. She’d missed her usual summer tan. Molly took a dab of color from the lipstick tube and blended it into her cheeks. Makeshift, but it worked.

Brent waited outside the office when she exited the restroom. They strolled outside together, and Molly was surprised at the warmth of the sun. Inside the concrete building the air remained cool. While the sun spread across her arms, her heart warmed beside Brent. He’d become a fixture in her life, their friendship growing.

Friendship. The word held little meaning to what she felt. But she needed time, and Brent had many wounds to heal before their relationship could flower into anything else—if it could at all.

“You’re quiet.” Brent’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“I feel like a hermit hidden inside the building, but I want to get as much done as I can before my parents get here.” She motioned to his attire. “You look like you came to help out.”

“I did, but I haven’t seen you for so long, and you mentioned on the phone you’ve made a lot of progress.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve missed you.”

“Sorry about neglecting the lessons. When the shelter’s finished, I can spend more time with Randy and Rocket.”

He slipped his hand into hers as they strode into the next block. “I’m not talking about Randy and Rocket. I missed you, too. I’ve wanted to talk to you about my dad and what happened.”

She stopped and faced him. “What happened?”

“He’s stubborn and domineering.”

She took another step, not surprised at Brent’s comment.

Brent grew quiet.

“Is that the problem?”

He faltered, shaking his head. “No, I’m the problem.”

Her heart flew to her throat. “Brent, is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing like that.” He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m still dealing with issues with my father. You know we had a good talk, and I thought things had finally fallen into place, but Dad has a hard time letting go.”

“What did he do?”

“He marched into the board meeting the day of the proposal approval and swayed their decision.”

Her breath hitched. “Swayed their decision? What does that mean?”

“I was fighting a losing battle, but I had more ammunition, and I was confident that I could convince them otherwise, but
Dad
came in and all but told them they had no choice.”

“Really.” She pictured those probing eyes of his that dug deep into people’s confidence. He’d frightened her at first.

“You can thank my dad, not me, for the yes vote on your proposal.”

She came to a stop. “Brent, if you hadn’t agreed to go ahead with my proposal, it wouldn’t have happened.”

His head lowered, and he didn’t respond.

“What?” Her mind spun with conjectures.

“My father insisted I pursue this with you. I can hardly take credit.”

“You were against it?”

“No. I’d decided to go ahead with your idea, but before I could tell you, he barged in and gave me no choice.”

Her disappointment eased while her curiosity grew. “Why?”

“I don’t know. He said he liked your gutsiness.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He didn’t say it that way, but that’s what he meant. He likes decisive people who are like him.” He stepped back and held up his hand. “I don’t mean you’re like my dad, but you have his determination.”

“I’ve been told that before.” She moved ahead toward the restaurant, Brent following, while her mind sorted through myriad questions.

In the middle of the next block, Brent stopped in front of the restaurant and opened the door. The air-conditioned chill sent gooseflesh up Molly’s arms. Hot coffee would taste good.

Brent motioned to a booth, and she slipped into the bench seat while he sat across from her. He folded his hands on the table. “I’m going to talk with Dad again. I don’t like how I feel.”

“About him?”

He nodded. “Frustrated. Resentful. Discouraged. I want a good relationship. It’s been so long in coming. When I was a boy, my dad seemed like a stranger to me—not a stranger, exactly, but a giant who trudged through my life destroying everything I wanted.”

“Something he said the last time I saw him gave me a surprise. Something about pearly gates. I didn’t know your father was a Christian.” She saw a flicker of distress in his face.

“Mom went to church, but Dad only went sometimes. Always on Easter and Christmas. They sent me to Sunday school, but I couldn’t connect what I learned there with what I saw at home. The word
love
had little meaning for me. Yes,
my parents were good. They provided me with an attractive home and wholesome food. They took me to the doctor and dentist. They saw to it that I did well in school, but I didn’t sense the close relationship that other kids had with their parents. I couldn’t comprehend the idea of Jesus being my personal friend. I just wanted friends I could see and play with.”

Molly couldn’t get a full breath, and a dizzy sensation made her feel helpless. “I’m sorry, Brent. They just didn’t realize.”

“They didn’t live their faith the way I see you living it, and I know you are blessed for it.”

Hearing Brent use the word
blessed
thrilled Molly. Today she knew for certain he had God in his heart. He’d just covered Him with his bitterness. Lord, open the door. “It’s hard to think of your dad being like that. He seems as if he cares now. I realize you were irked at him for coming to the board meeting, but he cared enough to support the proposal.”

“He has changed, I guess. The other day I joked about wanting to be a Boy Scout. I knew kids who were scouts. They earned medals for different activities, and it sounded like fun. My dad said it was a waste of time. I should use my time to study so I could make something of myself. It’s those things I have a hard time letting go of when I see what a mess I am today. Back then, he forgot that kids also needed friends and—”

“Time to be kids.”

“Right. Time to be kids.”

The waitress arrived with menus. Molly ordered coffee, but Brent added two pieces of strawberry rhubarb pie to his drink order. The woman placed two napkins along with forks and spoons on the table and then left.

“That’s why I’m so happy you took Randy.” Molly slid the napkin from the table and spread it on her lap.

“I am, too. The kid is thrilled with the littlest thing. He’s not the same boy anymore. I’m seeing him take responsibility
with the dog. He’s eager to help me with the lawn mowing. I don’t think he’d ever mowed a lawn before, and he’s capable.”

“I knew that when he was in my special-ed class. He needed attention. That’s what I saw.” She opened her mouth to add “and love,” but she knew Brent understood that now.

“You’ve done a lot for him with the basketball hoop and the dog.”

“And I’m buying him a bike for his birthday. It’s coming up in two weeks. He’s never had a bike, except for a tricycle when he was a little kid.”

A smile grew on her face, picturing Randy’s excitement with a bike. “He’ll love that.”

“I think so.”

The waitress reappeared with their drinks and pie and set the bill on the edge of the table before she walked away.

Molly lifted her cup. “I’ll have to think of something special for Randy’s birthday, too.”

“You’re something special, Molly. He’s crazy about you. He talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” She wasn’t sure she liked that. What would happen if she vanished from his life? The child had lost so many people. Molly didn’t want to be another one who walked away, leaving him feeling abandoned once again.

“You know how he feels.”

But she didn’t. Not really. She looked up and gazed at Brent. She wasn’t sure how he felt, either. The whole relationship thing rattled her.

“I understand Dad a little better now, but I still need to talk with him about his manipulation at the meeting.”

“Don’t be too rough on him, Brent. It’s hard to change sometimes. He’d been the president of the company for years.”

“He still is, but I’m the director. If he’d lived, it would have been Randall.”

“Why? Because he was older?”

“No, because he was Dad’s main focus.”

She squirmed in the seat, not wanting to hear him talk like that. “You mean his favorite? Why would you say that?”

“It’s too long and involved. One day, I’ll tell you the whole story, but in a nutshell, Randall had charisma. He could manipulate his way into the Oval Office if he wanted to.”

“I doubt that.” She grinned, hoping to lighten the depressing conversation.

“You know what I mean.”

“You may have felt that way, but I don’t see it. Your father’s proud of you. It’s obvious.”

He looked into Molly’s eyes. “He said that to me the other day. I never thought I’d hear it, but I did.”

“Brent, things happen in God’s time, not ours. There are things we all want to hear in our lives and fear we never will.” Her pulse skipped. Somehow mixed in her swinging pendulum of emotions, the word
love
came to mind. Would she ever hear the romantic words, “I love you?”

B
rent relaxed against the cushion in his father’s study, digesting the talk he’d had with his dad. He didn’t want to be wrong, but as he thought about what Molly said and heard his father’s reasoning, it made sense. His biased judgment had not allowed him to see his father as his ally. He picked a piece of lint from his dark pants and headed in a new direction. “Since we’re being open and honest, I’m curious about something. Molly asked about your faith, and I suppose I have the same question. She seemed surprised that you’re a Christian. Why didn’t you attend church regularly?”

His father gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry about that, Brent. I don’t suppose I was a good example. I always knew God existed, but I had a difficult time with the whys of faith. Why did bad people succeed? Why did hardworking people have to struggle to stay that way? Why did He allow me to be a parent and feel so inadequate?”

Brent felt he’d been struck. “You felt like that?”

“Certainly.” He lowered his head. “I don’t suppose I let you know that…or your mother, either, for that matter. I tried to leave you boys in her hands, figuring she had a more maternal bent then I did.”

“She wasn’t around much, either.” Brent rose, his arms
flailing without direction. “Did you realize the housekeeper did more with us than you and even Mom did?”

His father flinched, the color growing on his cheeks as if he’d been slapped.

Brent dropped his arms to his sides. “I don’t mean to sound so harsh, and I should correct that. You did take time to teach Randall how to hunt.”

“You never wanted to. You liked books, and I counted on you one day to take over the business.”

“You wanted me?” He froze in place.

“I wanted that more than realizing you needed time to be a kid, I suppose.”

“I always thought—”

“Randy was different than you. He wanted a good time. He wanted to joke around, and he had a cocky attitude that I should have knocked out of him long before he grew up and got himself in that marriage. Your mother and I knew it was wrong. Joan wasn’t a woman to be a mother, but she’d gotten pregnant and—”

Brent felt the blood drain from his face. “Before they married?”

His dad looked away and nodded. “It was the worst day of our lives up to then.”

“I never knew that.”

“But you were our pride and joy, Brent. I worked you hard. I expected things of you, and I did it so wrong.”

This wasn’t time to ease his father’s grief. It was time for honesty. He tucked his hands into his pockets and forced himself to look into his father’s eyes. “Yes, you did.”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness, Brent. I only hope that I can make up for it some way in the years I have left.”

“Forgiveness isn’t an issue. You’re my father. You obviously did your best. You said that, and I understand. It’s as much my fault. I didn’t say anything. I kept it bottled up inside of me.”

“I wish you hadn’t. Still, you’ve come through it more than you seem to realize. You’re making good decisions at the company. I only came, as I said, to support you.”

Their talk had opened so many doors. Brent thought about his resentment over the years, his misconstrued idea of his father’s plans for the company and attitudes about Randall. He flinched beneath the weight of his mistakes. Even his attitude toward God had been misguided.

“And Molly.”

Her name catapulted his pulse.

“I can see right through her.”

Brent’s hands jerked from his pockets and dropped to his side. “See right through her? You mean she has an ulterior motive?”

His father’s serious expression broke into a smile. “Not at all. I think she charged into our lives and made us both different people. I love her compassion and enthusiasm—her drive and her openness. I was referring to her transparent feelings. I can see her love for animals and her purpose. She’s crazy about Randy and Rocket, and I can see how she feels about you.”

His heart stopped. He waited, but his father didn’t expand. “She thinks I’m a mess.”

“Maybe, but she sees your heart, too, and she loves what she sees.”

He sounded like Molly. She’d talked about looking inside a person and seeing their heart, but his dad was very wrong. “No. Molly made it very clear that she was only open to a friendship.”

His father laughed. “Have you ever known a woman who didn’t change her mind?”

He searched his father’s face. He wasn’t joking. Brent released a ragged breath and sank into the chair. Could his father be correct? Molly? His mind whirled.

“So nice to meet you.” Molly’s mother shook Brent’s hand. “And you must be Brent’s father. I can see it through the
eyes. You both have a sparkle.” She grasped Morris’s hand and gave it a firm shake as the retriever stood beside her wagging his tail. “And you’re Rocket.” She reached down and gave the dog a pet while his tail whacked against Brent’s pant leg. “Where’s the young man that belongs to this sweet dog? Molly’s told me all about him.”

Brent smiled. “He’s inside. He wanted to mix some lemonade for everyone. Maybe I should go in and make sure—”

“Let me go,” Molly said, “and I’ll see what’s keeping Dad. He only had the cooler to carry back here.”

She darted past the garage, looked in the driveway and spotted her dad bent over the cooler as he placed items back inside.

“What happened?” Molly hurried to his side.

He looked up and grinned. “I was careless. It slipped out of one hand and I hadn’t locked the top.” He lifted his hands in the air with a helpless gesture. “Just careless. Have I missed the celebration?”

“It doesn’t start without you.” She kissed him on the cheek as she gathered up two more bottles of soft drink. “Randy’s making lemonade, so make sure you have some of that.”

He gave her a wink as he closed the lid. “Definitely.” He stood and hoisted the cooler.

“Want some help?” Molly reached for a handle.

He gave her a playful frown. “And look like a wimp?”

“Never.” She gestured toward the house. “Then I’m on a mission. I’m to check on Randy.” She darted off, opened the front door and veered through the dining room into the kitchen. She stopped short. “How’s it going?” She assumed Randy was making concentrated lemonade, but he had a pile of lemons and a juicer in front of him.

“I’m almost done.”

She strode to his side. “You’re doing it the hard way.”

He pushed the lemon half onto the juicer. “I know. Uncle Brent said we should use the frozen stuff, but I wanted to make real lemonade.”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “Can I get the sugar for you?”

“Okay. It’s in the cabinet over there.” He motioned with his head.

Molly picked the wrong one but found it on her second try. Seeing Randy more outgoing and confident touched her. She couldn’t imagine the loneliness he had felt so much of his life. Too much like Brent. They’d been raised the same under different circumstances, but God had blessed them both with His healing hand. She prayed every night that the Lord make things right for both of them.

“How much sugar do you need?”

He looked at the recipe on the counter. “For ten lemons it says four scoops.”

Molly pursed her lips. “Scoops? What size?”

Randy shrugged. “Let’s use a smaller one and taste it after each scoop.”

“Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“’Cuz I did.”

They both laughed, and using a four-ounce scoop, they got it just right. Randy stirred the mixture with a long spoon and then carried the pitcher while Molly grabbed the paper cups and headed outside.

By the time they reached the others, her father had been introduced, and he and Morris were talking together near the barbecue. She set the cups on the picnic table and let Randy take the honors of filling the glasses.

Brent introduced Randy to Molly’s mother, and after he’d hustled off to fill the glasses, Brent and her mother talked about his house and business. Molly listened, noticing that Brent seemed comfortable with her. Her mother had even accepted his Fourth of July barbecue with a smile.

Excusing himself, Brent strode away to bring out the meat for the grill, and when he was out of earshot, Molly moved beside her mother. “What do you think of Randy?”

“He’s a sweet boy.” Her gaze probed Molly’s. “And what do you think about Brent?”

Molly drew back, noticing the look in her mother’s eyes. “He’s a great guy. He’s been so supportive of the dog shelter.” She gestured toward Morris, hoping to distract her mother. “Brent’s father has been great, too. He went to the board of directors in support of my proposal.”

“I think you’re more than that to Brent.”

“Mom!” Too late to monitor her exclamation, she noticed the two men had stopped talking and stared at her. She checked her volume. “Please. We’re friends.”

Her mother arched an eyebrow.

“Really. Brent has issues, and I…I do too.”

“Issues? You?”

Molly’s head pivoted toward her dad and Morris, hoping they hadn’t heard her comment, but before she could respond, Randy appeared with the lemonade. Bad timing. Now her mother would bug her about her stupid slip. Using any word other than
issues
would have been better. She didn’t want to bring up the past.

Molly took a glass from Randy and handed it to her mother and then took one for herself. The door opened, and Brent came through the garage carrying a tray of meat. As he neared, he tilted his head toward he house. “If you want to toss a salad, you can, and we need the corn husked.”

“Sure thing.” Molly grasped the reprieve and turned toward the house.

Her mother fell into step. “I’d be happy to husk corn.”

Definitely, and Molly would be cornered. She lifted her shoulders, accepting that she might as well face the grilling now instead of later.

Her mother followed her into the kitchen and headed for the corn. She tore open the bag and pulled out the ears.

Molly filled a large pot with water and popped it on the burner, enjoying the respite. Maybe her mother had forgot
ten her slip of the tongue, and she could avoid the interrogation about her relationship with Brent. Molly dug into the refrigerator and pulled out the greens and vegetables for the salad. They worked in silence for a few moments until her mother asked for a knife to cut off the cob ends.

Molly motioned to a drawer, and after her mother pulled out a wide-blade knife, she leaned against the counter. “What issues?”

Molly jerked to attention.

“You said you had issues. I’m your mother. You can talk with me.”

“It’s nothing, Mom. Yes, I do think a lot of Brent, but—” Molly eyed the knife clutched in her mother’s hand. “It’s just that…I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

“A mistake? I can see he cares about you. It’s obvious.”

Obvious? Molly tried to concentrate on the vegetables while dealing with the fact that she couldn’t hide her feelings from anyone.

“So what’s the problem?”

Her mother’s probing made her head swim. She felt like a teen again, having to face her parents when she’d messed up. Molly pulled air into her lungs, hoping to sway the conversation. “He’s not a strong believer. I worry about that.”

“It’s good you’re aware of that, but Christians sometimes fall by the wayside and only need loving hands to ease them back. You can provide an example, and he’ll come around. If the Holy Spirit finds a crack in his armor, He gets inside. God’s love outshines the darkness. Brent will find the light.”

“I know, Mom, but—”

“Then what else is an issue?” Her mother tilted her head with a mother’s penetrating gaze. “That must not be all of it.”

Her mother had a way of delving into her head and dragging out things that Molly had no intention of sharing. “He doesn’t know, Mom.”

“Is that important now, Molly? The Lord wiped your sins away.”

“If anything’s to come of our…relationship, I want him to know.”

Her mother nodded. “You’re right. I don’t keep things from your father, either. Then tell him. But it won’t make a difference, Molly, not if he loves you.”

The words flattened Molly. Love did shine through the darkness. She’d said it herself.

Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You’re a good woman. You went astray but you came back, and God’s cleaned your slate.” She tilted Molly’s head so their eyes met. “You’ve worked so hard to prove yourself. You don’t settle for second best. You want to give God the best.”

“I do that, Mom. I want to be perfect like you and Dad. You do everything right. You don’t have problems. You make the right decisions. You never argue.”

Her mother’s hand shot up and she drew back. “Hold it.” She placed her palm on Molly’s shoulder and shook her head. “Molly, you’re living under a delusion.”

“No, I’m not. I saw it with my own eyes. I lived with you most of my life.”

“I know you did, but you didn’t hear and see everything.”

Molly stood still. “But—”

“If you think your dad and I didn’t have arguments and get angry, you’re totally mistaken. We didn’t argue in front of you kids. We tried to air our problems privately and resolve them without getting all of you worried.”