Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring (20 page)

As the waitress brought their lunches, Patsy leaned back against
the booth and tried to figure out Pete Roberts. Before she could ask
him more about Halfway or flower boxes or his idea for solving the
chain-saw problem, he announced that he would pray. Patsy tried
to keep her face straight as he blurted out a few awkward sentences
thanking God for Easter, asking that children find plenty of colored eggs in their yards, and blessing the meal to the nourishment
of their bodies. Finally he added, "And thank You, dear God, for
Patsy Pringle ... my friend. Amen."

"I like that hair color you've got on today, by the way," he said as
they began eating. "Brown. It looks real good on you."

"It's ash-blonde," she told him.

"Well, whatever it is, I think it suits you. Must be close to your
natural shade."

"I hardly recall. I like trying different things. One time I even got
another of the stylists to do extensions on me. You should have
seen me walking around with black hair halfway down my back.
Finally someone told me that if I would paint my fingernails black
and put on some dark eyeliner, I'd look like one of those Goths. I
could have just about died. I had been fancying myself as a Mexican senorita or an Italian countess. A Satan worshiper! You never
saw anyone get their hair changed as fast as I did. Before the day
was over, I had a halo of blonde curls."

Pete smiled. "I never think much about my looks, but I guess
that's a big deal for women."

"I see it as a ministry. Fixing people up helps them feel better
about themselves, and then they can go out and do a good job at
whatever the Lord has given them to do. I guess you've noticed the
pamphlets by my cash register and the music I play. My goal is to
bring glory to the Lord all day long."

He scratched at his beard for a moment. "I don't guess I've ever
thought about it one way or the other. I'm just trying to make a living.

"That's important, of course, but God wants a lot more from
believers. We're supposed to reach out to people, share with them,
help them, make a difference in their lives. That's the kind of thing
that builds treasure in heaven."

"Do you really believe what Pastor Andrew said this morningthat those Roman soldiers killed Jesus, and then He woke up from
being dead?"

Patsy looked up in surprise. "Of course I do. It's written right
there in the Bible, plain as day."

"But who says the Bible is right?"

"If you'd go to Bible study on Sunday mornings, you'd get the
answers you're looking for. There are people who have proved the
historical facts. And the rest of it you have to take on faith."

"Faith is tricky business. I think I've only got it partly figured
out."

"Well, Mr. Halfway, you'd better get it all figured out, or one
day you'll check out of this life, and then where will you be?"

"You trying to scare me into heaven, Miss Patsy Pringle?"

"I'm telling you the truth, that's all. What we do on this earth
doesn't mean squat unless we do it for God. And our goal ought to
be that when we die, He'll look us square in the eye and say, `Well
done, thou good and faithful servant.' "

Pete studied her long enough that Patsy began to feel uncomfortable. "You really are something, aren't you?" he said finally.
"You're a Christian, you own your own business, you've got about
a bazillion friends and customers. You must be really happy."

"I'd be happier if a certain someone would quit revving up
chain saws next door." She looked away, instantly regretting the
way she had snapped that out.

"Listen, please don't get the idea that I'm perfect, Pete," she said
in a softer voice. "I've had my problems through the years. I've
made my share of mistakes. But am I happy? You bet. I've got a joy,
anyway-'joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,' as the song says.
There'll be days when I'm blue or angry or frustrated. Days when it
seems like nothing's going right. Sometimes I feel lonely, or I
might wish my life had taken a different turn or two. But when
you've got the Holy Spirit living in your heart, Pete, you know for
sure that God is walking with you. He's beside you and in you and
all around you. And that's what I call joy."

"I never met anybody like you," Pete said, shaking his head. "I
mean that. You just buffalo me, Patsy."

"Because I change my hair all the time?"

"That's part of it. Mostly it's just ... well, just because."

"Don't you dare put me on some kind of pedestal, or you'll get
to see me fall flat on my face."

"All right, I won't put you on a pedestal-if you won't leave me
in the long drop under the outhouse."

"What a thing to say! Especially while we're eating Easter dinner. Good grief, Pete Roberts, are you just full of bad manners?"

His mouth tipped up into a slow grin. "Aw, only about halfway.

Brenda was pulling weeds from the flower bed in front of her porch
early Tuesday afternoon when Ashley Hanes drove down
Sunnyslope Lane in her golf cart. Coming to a stop, she put the
vehicle in reverse and backed into the Hansens' driveway. Brenda
got to her feet and brushed her hands on her jeans to dust off the
heavy Missouri clay.

"Hey, Mrs. Hansen," Ashley called as she stepped out of the cart
and started across the lawn. "Is Jessica home? I haven't seen her
since church on Sunday. I'd like to catch up on things. So much has
been going on in my life, and I'm sure she has stuff to tell about college too."

The girls were the same age and had been friends since elementary school. But while Jessica had chosen to go off to college, Ashley
had elected to marry Brad Hanes. That made the two young
women about as different as night and day-not that they had ever
been very much alike.

Jessica wore a cool blonde loveliness that both attracted young
men and frightened them off. Like her older sister, she had a fierce
moral code and a strong faith. Brenda wondered if this josh fellow
knew exactly how stubborn, determined, and single-minded his
girlfriend could be.

Ashley, on the other hand, was attractive in a funky, bohemian,
almost garish way. She wore her auburn hair long and rumpled,
her necklines cut way too low, her gathered gauze skirts slung
down on her hips, and beads of every color imaginable layered
around her neck. She and Brad had made no secret of the fact that
they were living together even before they got married. The arrangement didn't seem to bother Ashley's parents, either, when
Brenda visited with them at the ice-cream-and-sandwich shop
they owned in Camdenton. The little place was always on the verge
of closing its doors, and Brenda had heard that Ashley gave her
parents part of her paycheck every week.

From Jessica's point of view, Ashley was smart and talentedbut she didn't try very hard in school, and she had barely managed
to graduate. Her whole focus had been Brad and her job at the
country club. Those left little time for friends or extracurricular
activities, let alone schoolwork.

Brenda tried to stifle a sigh at the memory of her daughter's
hasty departure from Deepwater Cove. "Jessica left on Sunday
after church," she told Ashley. "She has a new boyfriend whose
family wanted to meet her. She's spending the rest of her break
down near Branson at Table Rock Lake."

"No way." Ashley's face fell. "That's a rip-off to you and Steve. Is
she coming back before school starts up again?"

Brenda couldn't help but notice that Ashley had referred to
Steve by his first name. Somehow that rankled.

"I doubt it," Brenda said. "She plans to stay with josh and his
family the whole week. We were disappointed, of course, but we
understand. Evidently this young man is very special to her."

"More special than Darrell Dugan? That's hard to believe. He
was the catch of Camdenton High. Not that I noticed him much.
Brad's three years older than me, you know. Every day when he
was done with his construction job and I got out of school, I spent
most of my time with him and his buddies instead of hanging out
with the high school crowd."

Brenda smiled, sat down on the porch step, and patted a place
for Ashley. The young woman settled down beside her. Wearing a
pair of green shorts, she stretched out long legs as bare as her midriff and shoulders. Tiny straps held up her skimpy pink top. The
usual stack of multihued beads covered Ashley's collarbone and
neck.

"Nice day to be outside," she remarked to Brenda. "I don't have
to go into work until four. I was really hoping to talk to Jessica."

"I know she would have enjoyed visiting with you."

"I wanted to tell her how good Brad and I are doing. Did you see
my engagement ring?"

Only about fifty times, Brenda wanted to say. But she admired
the sparkly diamond all over again as Ashley turned it one way and
another.

"Did you know Brad has a new truck?" Ashley asked. "He
bought it a few weeks ago. It's red."

"I'll bet that's helpful for carrying firewood and moving furniture," Brenda remarked. "I always kind of wanted a truck myself."

Ashley laughed. "I can't see you driving a truck, Mrs. Hansen.
That would be too weird."

"You can call me Brenda. After all, we're both married women
now, aren't we?"

Even as she said the words, Brenda could think of Ashley only as
a gap-toothed first grader with long red pigtails and dirty jeans.
She realized she probably remembered her own children that way
most of the time too. Scraped knees, braids, braces, sunburns. So
hard to imagine them all grown up and on their own.

"Yeah, I guess you could say I'm an adult," Ashley said. "I can't
get into bars yet, though. Not that it matters, of course. It's just that
Brad likes to toss back a few beers with the construction crew after
work. They go over to Larry's Lake Lounge, you know-in Tranquility? But I'm not old enough to get in. There's other girls in the
bar, and that really bugs me. I can't wait until I'm twenty-one, but
it seems like forever. It's hard to sit around by yourself all day,
don't you think?"

"I do. It gets lonely."

"Guys are lucky. After work they get to go hang out somewhere
cool-like Brad at the Lounge, and Steve at the country club. I
know Brad looks at the girls in the bar, and Steve's always eating
dinner with his rich, beautiful, la-di-da clients. I always admired you whenever I came over to hang out with Jessica. I mean, you can
cook, you keep your house so pretty, you sew and paint, and you
fix your flower beds all nice. You have this great husband and three
awesome kids. If I were you, I'd be so happy. Sometimes it seems
like Brad and I hardly see each other. That really ticks me off. I
mean, I thought when we got married, it would be even more awesome than before. Like we would be together all the time, you
know? But Brad is so busy building houses, and then I'm gone at
night. I hate it. I'd quit the country club, but I make really good
money, and Brad wants me to keep my job."

Brenda's brain had snagged on one thing in Ashley's long rant:
"Steve's always eating dinner with his rich, beautiful, la-di-da
clients. "

Of course, these were business appointments, as Steve had told
Brenda. But they included women. Could some of these clients be
unattached women? Dining alone with her husband?

Brenda had always envisioned Steve seated at the country club
with a married couple. A man and wife. Perhaps even a couple of
kids. Steve would regale them with the advantages of buying property at the lake. He would modestly note how successful his agency
had become and how happy his clients were. They would eat dinner together, shake hands, and part congenially with a plan for a
future meeting. Then Steve would come home to Brenda.

It never occurred to her that he might be with a single woman.
That they might sit long hours in the dim light of the country-club
dining room. Perhaps dance together. Laugh and tell stories and
feel attracted to each other.

Guilt seeped into Brenda's worries as she suddenly realized that
the emotion she was ascribing to Steve could fit her feelings for
Nick LeClair. She had spent hours alone with him. They had
shared memories and emotions. And, yes, Brenda felt attracted to
him. More than she should. She had prayed for that feeling to go
away, but lately it seemed God had taken a vacation from the heart
of Brenda Hansen.

Probably He had vanished because she had stopped going to
church and never read her Bible anymore. Despite years of faithful
obedience and dedication to her faith, she could no longer bring
herself to spend her time that way. God seemed far away and silent
these days. Her prayers had changed too. Once she had been filled
to the brim with gratitude and joy. After Steve slowly started abandoning her and then the kids left, she offered up heart-wrenching
pleas for God's help and comfort. Despite all her agony and tears,
nothing in her life had changed for the better. Now, when she
thought about praying at all, her efforts at communication were
simply grumpy, matter-of-fact requests for God's protection over
her children. Brenda wasn't sure she even believed in prayer anymore.