Loving Promises (11 page)

He’d also been rattled by Michael’s conversation the same day. When the boy had asked Bev whether he’d ever have a father, Dale had panicked. The child had looked at him as if he were the answer. Dale had hoped never to be put in that position. He should have known that a kid wouldn’t understand a friendship without thinking it had greater commitment. Sometimes he didn’t understand it either.

Wisdom told him to get out of the situation even though he and Bev got along well. He enjoyed her company, and for the first time in many years he felt relaxed and content with a woman. Bev was easy to enjoy, but he wanted no part of a lifelong commitment.

Sometimes he played mind games by asking himself “what-if?,” but as quickly as the question settled into his thoughts, he removed it. No what-ifs for him. He wanted no part of the heartache of a love relationship.

With Mildred still hanging around and caring for his mother, Dale felt tossed into the situation. How could he avoid Bev and her children when they were drawn into the family setting by his mother’s or father’s invitation?

The best he could do was stay away from them, and he’d tried. For the past three weeks, he’d avoided going home for the weekend. Instead, he’d dropped by for a couple of hours on Saturday or Sunday. He’d even missed visiting for the Fourth of July. No one needed him anyway. Mildred had taken over. She’d filled all of their needs, and Dale felt useless. Yet how could he continue to avoid going home with his mother so ill?

The telephone jarred him, and he snatched up the receiver, startled when he heard his father’s voice.

“What’s wrong?” Dale asked, his heart in this throat.

“I called to ask the same question. You’ve been coming home so faithfully on weekends, but you didn’t show up this past week, not even for a few hours. I just wondered if you’re okay.”

The call coming so quickly on the heels of his thoughts set him on edge. “I’m fine, Dad. Sorry. I should have called.” He tapped the pencil’s eraser against his blotter as he scurried for something plausible to say.
“I’m tangled in a special project here, and I’m afraid it might be another week or so before I can get home.”

“I’m disappointed to hear that,” his father said. “Your mother misses you, but I understand. Your life goes on.”

While his father’s life halted. He finished the implication of his dad’s words. Guilt slid over him like thick oil, turning his mood black.

“I’ll see what I can do in another week or so. I should have things caught up by then.” He hated the lie; it was not so much a lie as a half truth. He was busy, but that was nothing new. He could find the time when he needed it. If his mother died while he was playing hard to get, he’d never forgive himself. Dale flinched at the possibility.

“Don’t push yourself, Son,” his father said. “I know it’s difficult to work and handle the pressures at home. Your mom asked about you, and I thought I’d better call.”

“I’ll telephone her tonight when I have a moment, Dad, so she’s reassured.”

“Thanks. She’ll feel better.”

Dale listened to his father’s words, feeling shame and sadness. His father needed support, not a son who couldn’t handle his own problems and took a coward’s way out.

When Dale hung up the telephone, tears pushed behind his eyes, and he lowered his head in his hands. What can I do? he asked himself. Words filled his head.
Stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.
Do everything in love.
He recognized the Scripture. Bev. Since her prodding, he’d been reading the Bible and had touched on those verses a couple nights ago. In God’s subtle way, the message he needed had been at the tip of his memory.

Be men of courage.
He’d been so lacking in that. He’d lived in fear since he’d watched his mother go downhill, and he’d struggled with relationships since then. What had happened to his faith?

Do everything in love.
He’d done little in the name of love. God’s timing was what he had to deal with. We would all die one day. That was something he could not control.

He raised his head and pulled back his shoulders.
Lord, give me courage to be the hero Michael sees and help me to understand the kind of love You command.

Love.
He couldn’t say the word aloud.

A
l closed the bedroom door and wiped his misting eyes with the backs of his hands. He’d promised the Lord thirty-seven years ago that he would love his wife in sickness and in health. He’d only been twenty-three then, but he’d meant it then as sure as he meant it today. No one had ever touched his heart as Dotty had done, and the only other person who’d come close was Millie.

Watching Dotty fail was almost more than Al could bear. Millie had stepped in to give him help and strength, and the Lord filled him with comfort, knowing Dotty’s end would be a victory and not a loss.

But it would be his loss.

He wandered toward the living room, his mind filled with too many thoughts to handle. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched Millie gather the cups and plates from their dessert earlier in the evening.

“I’m worried,” he said.

Mildred turned to face him, the china piled in her hand. “About Dotty?”

He nodded. “Dotty. Dale. Everything. Dale’s not been coming home, but he called last night and said he’d be here this weekend.”

“Dale’s a good son,” Mildred said. “He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He’s having a difficult time, too.”

“I know, and I understand.” He pushed his fingers against his eyes to hold back the welling tears. “Tonight Dotty said Dale couldn’t face reality. Dotty knows…” He stopped, unable to say the words.

Mildred set the stack of dishes on the table and sank onto the sofa. She patted the cushion beside her. “Sit for a minute.”

Al lumbered across the room, weighted by the pain of watching his world fall apart. When he sank beside Millie, she shifted to face him, and he saw the truth in her eyes.

“It’s getting close,” she said. “You need to be prepared.”

Her words made his awareness a greater reality, and his chest heaved with an ache so deep it tore at his soul. “I know,” was all he could say. He looked at Millie with blurred vision, then brushed the tears from his eyes.

“I wish I could give you more hope, but I have to be honest.”

“I want you to be honest, no matter how it hurts.”

She reached across and pressed her palm against his
hand. “I love Dotty. I ache for your grief, but I rejoice for her. Soon she’ll be healthy and happy. No worries, no problems, no tears—only eternal joy. We should be envious.”

A faint smile touched Al’s lips, and the emotion shocked him. He hadn’t smiled in days, even with Millie around to bring him a reprieve with her lighthearted ways. “Thank you,” he said, knowing the words couldn’t dent the gratefulness he felt.

She waved his thanks away.

“Millie, you’ve been a part of my life for so long. All the important things, and now—”

“That’s what friends are for, Al. It’s hard not to be sad even though we know Dotty will be with Jesus. It’s difficult to accept the truth that God’s will be done. I’m grateful I can be here during these last…these special days.”

Special days. Only Millie would think of Dotty’s last hours as special, and they were. The words rolled over him like a balm. “You’re special, Millie. What would I do without you?”

“You have the Lord. That’s all you need.”

He nodded, his pulse throbbing with the painful knowledge of what he still had to bear.

Millie brushed her fingers against his cheek. “Your eyes look so sad. It hurts me to see you this way.”

He pressed his palm against her warm fingers. “Then make me smile, Millie.”

Bev pulled the bedsheets from the dryer and dropped them into the laundry basket to fold upstairs. While she untangled the linens from each other, her mind plodded through her weighty thoughts. She’d been on edge for the past two weeks, and didn’t know what to do about it, or even why she’d let her life get as tangled with Dale’s as badly as the sheets she’d been trying to unknot.

When Dale had called to say he was too busy to come for the weekend, she’d accepted what he’d said, but then it had happened again. She learned from her mother that he’d dropped by his parents’ home for a couple of hours, but he hadn’t visited her. He hadn’t even called. Something was wrong and she’d wracked her memory, trying to figure out what she’d done or what had happened.

Dale’s absence made Bev too aware of what part he now played in her life. He filled her days and nights with purpose and pleasure. She reveled in his kisses. For the first time in many years, she’d had a chance to think of herself and not just the children, and although she and Dale had declared their relationship a friendship, she’d watched it grow deeper and had begun to wonder if she could let go of her promise to herself never to marry. Lately, her heart had opened to a new desire to belong, to be a family, to share her life with someone.

The children were still a problem when it came to Dale, but even then, she’d noticed he had become more
patient with them. She pictured him on the pier in Grand Haven with Michael in his arms, Dale’s face twisted with the realization that her son had nearly fallen into the rough water.

She’d had reservations, too. If Dale were going to walk away—as he’d done now—then, for the good of the children, she needed to forget the delight she felt with him. She needed to slip back into her go-nowhere life and accept it again.

Bev slammed the dryer door closed and headed up the stairs with the clothes basket. Sorting through her muddied thoughts, she realized she’d gotten herself into the position she’d promised never to be in again. Dale had thrown her life off balance. Her stability had become rocky since she’d allowed her heart to head off in crazy directions. She needed to bind her emotions to reason.

The doorbell rang, and Bev set down the laundry. Before she could reach the door, another chime pealed from the foyer. Curious, Bev paused before turning the knob and glanced out the small, square window to see who was there. Her heart skipped.

“Dale,” she said, pushing open the screen door. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, but his face looked grim.

She moved away from the door and waved him ahead of her into the living room. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t respond, but said as he sank onto the sofa, “I’m a mess, Bev.” His face was filled with concern.

Bev sat across from him, confused by his sudden appearance. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve certainly been a jerk. I should have let you know what’s going on, and—”

“You’re talking in circles, Dale. What’s going on? I haven’t seen you for three weeks or longer. Now you appear on my doorstep, and I’m confused.”

“So am I, and that’s why I haven’t called or been around. I don’t know what to say.”

“Then why are you here?” She heard the sarcasm in her voice.

He glanced away, his face morphing from one emotion to another. “I don’t know for sure. I want to let you know I care about you, but—” He drew his fingers through his thick hair.

His hesitation tore through her. “But what?”

“I care about you, but I don’t want to.”

His words struck her like a hypodermic needle—the puncture followed by a sting that lingered long after the needle had been withdrawn.

“That sounded so crass,” he said. “So unkind.”

“Yes, it does.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, then folded his hands and stared at them. “You know all the reasons. I’ve told you how I feel about getting involved. I know life can’t be perfect. That’s heaven.”

“You can’t escape relationships unless you’re a her
mit, Dale. People need people. People form friendships. It’s a natural thing. God made us that way.”

“I have friends,” he said. “I just don’t want to fall in love.”

“I don’t either,” Bev said, not sure she was telling the truth any longer. She only wished her dreams hadn’t included Dale, but they clung to her like tape to paper.

He lifted his eyes and studied her face as if he were trying to read whether she was telling the truth. She stared back, garnering the strength to hide the deeper feelings she’d begun to experience.

He released a lengthy breath. “But the kids. I’m afraid they don’t understand. I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I know you don’t. The problem is children have vivid imaginations.”

He nodded and fell back against the cushion. “Michael wants a father.”

So that was it. She knew Dale had heard him at the Star-Spangled Butterfly Festival, but at the time, he hadn’t reacted. “I’ve explained that to him. Michael has God the Father. The Lord is the only father he needs.”

“Where are the kids?” he asked.

“Michael needed folders for school. My mom took him out to buy them.”

She noticed him glance toward the hallway. “Kristin went with them.”

He nodded, seemingly not surprised that she’d known his concern.

“We’re alone.”

“It’s not only the kids, Bev. I’m going through some very immature feelings that I need to get under control.”

“What kind of feelings?”

He lowered his eyes, his face drawn. “It’s so childish, but I understand where the feelings are coming from.”

“Explain, please.” His avoidance irritated her.

“It’s your mother. She’s taken over and I feel so helpless. I’d like to do something for my folks, but I don’t have a chance. Millie’s already done everything. She’s already thought of it before I do.”

“You wanted someone to be a caregiver, someone to help your dad. Didn’t you think that’s what she’d do?”

Dale gave a faint shrug. “I figured she’d help feed Mom and stay with her, but your mother’s almost moved in. She’s there all the time. We have no time together. Alone.”

Bev gave a ragged sigh. She’d seen the problem coming and her mother hadn’t liked it when she’d pointed it out. “I can’t control my mother. I did warn her.”

Dale’s head flew upward. “You did?”

“I saw the tension, and you’d hinted how you felt before. She won’t listen. As long as she’s nursing Dotty, my mom is very defensive. She sees it as her job.”

“I know, and my father doesn’t see the problem, so I don’t know why it’s bothering me. Like I said, it’s childish. I’m the little boy vying for my parents’ attention, but it’s more than that. They’ve done so much for
me that I want to give something back to them, and she’s not letting me do that.”

“Your love and your presence is all they need, Dale.”

He looked away and didn’t speak for a moment. “You’re probably right,” he said finally. “My dad will need me after my mom…”

He apparently couldn’t say the words and neither could Bev. It was too sad, too disheartening. The whole situation sat on her shoulders like a boulder. All she wanted now was honesty.

“So where do we go from here?”

He gave her a long thoughtful look. “I miss you too much when we’re apart, Bev. I don’t want our friendship to end because I can’t handle things. So let’s start over again.”

Start over again? They’d hardly started at all in her mind. “Start what over?”

“Us. Our friendship. Let’s back up and get our emotions in check.”

Bev closed her eyes a moment, realizing she’d been trying to do that all along, so what good would backing up do? “How do we back up?”

“We need to untangle ourselves from our families if that’s possible. Let’s keep the issues separate.”

Bev still didn’t understand, unless he was saying he didn’t want anything to do with her kids and Mildred. She was in the dark.

“I’m thinking we should do some things alone as
friends do. Go to dinner or a movie alone. Get uninvolved from each other’s families.”

She’d been right. That’s exactly what he’d meant. “It’s not realistic, Dale. Maybe it’s best if we just end things here and now. Friends are only worth the effort when it’s give and take, when they enjoy each other’s company. When the relationship is more stressful than pleasant, then give it up.” She said the words, but her heart felt as if it were breaking.

Dale rose from his chair and moved to Bev’s side. He captured her hands in his, then pressed them to his chest. “That’s not what I mean, Bev. All I’m trying to say is we need to be friends again, and we need to try to get rid of all the confusion. I need you, and I hope you need me. I want to learn more about you outside the realm of our confusing lives. We haven’t given us a chance.”

Bev looked into his eyes, struck by his words. That seemed the most intelligent thing Dale had said since he’d arrived. Maybe they hadn’t given themselves a chance at a real friendship.

“What do you say?” he asked.

She nodded. “I think you’re right. We need time to explore our relationship without the pressures.”

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. His lips felt warm and tender, and tonight, she let the emotion transport her to a sense of wholeness. Everyone needed a solid friendship. She and Dale had been on a slippery climb since they’d met.

“I haven’t felt this good in weeks,” Dale said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Things will be different from now on.”

Bev’s heart lurched, praying the difference would be a good one. She felt positive about their talk, but something troubled her, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Could the Lord be trying to speak, and she wasn’t hearing? Was it a woman’s intuition?

Her mind had woven through a labyrinth of questions. Why did she dream now of being loved again? Why did she allow herself to hope for more when she’d resolved that a single life was the best? Would life be any different if she opened her heart? And if she did, what good would it do? Dale wanted friendship. If that’s all they shared, would that be enough?

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.
The verse settled on her mind. Maybe it all boiled down to trust. Could she trust herself?

Could she trust Dale?

Al had pulled the chair beside Dotty’s bed. Each time he rose to go, he feared that if he walked away she would leave him. He’d faced reality and tried to be prepared, but nothing would ready him for the moment when Dotty was no longer part of his life.

Her eyelids fluttered, and a soft moan stole from her throat.

“Do you need a pill?” Al asked, leaning closer to her ear.

She inched open her misted eyes. “No.” Her voice was hoarse and strained.