Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring (25 page)

It felt so routine now, doing these small things for Nick. As
though they had fallen into a comfortable pattern that might go on
and on forever.

But today it would end. Nick was already laying the vinyl on the
floor, Brenda reminded herself as she carried his plate down the
steps. He would install the potting bench next and finally hook up
the sink. And then he would be gone.

Perhaps by the end of the day, he would have completed all his
work, and they would never see each other again. She couldn't
even ask Nick to build a bridge over her ditch. He had another
remodeling project waiting for him, and besides, she had promised
Ashley Hanes to ask for Brad's help.

As Brenda stepped onto the cool concrete floor, Nick looked up,
spotted her, and smiled. "There you are!" he said, his blue eyes
warm. "I thought I might have lost you, girl. You were gone a long
time."

"It took me a while to find the right parts in the plumbing section of the hardware store," she told him as she set the plate and
soda on the sewing table in the corner where he usually ate. "I had
to get help with the elbows."

"Something wrong with your elbows?" He chuckled as he
dropped a hammer into its loop on his leather tool belt. Moving
toward her, he took her arm and pretended to examine it. "Looks
like a mighty fine elbow to me. Best I've seen in a long while, in
fact."

Brenda tried to calm her heartbeat as his hand moved up and
down her bare arm. She knew it was wrong to be so near him. To let
him touch her. To welcome his compliments. Yet she ached with a
yearning for more as his words swirled through her and his warm
fingers stroked her skin.

"Not my elbows." She managed a smile. "Those PVC ones you
wanted for the sink. I've got them in a paper sack upstairs. Here's
your lunch."

He released her arm and studied the plate. "Hot dogs and
mustard," he said. "It'll be hard to get used to making my own
peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches again."

"I guess your wife ..." She pressed her lips together and looked
away. "Well, there's nothing wrong with a good PBJ."

"My wife left me," he said, his focus still on the plate. "You
probably know that by now. Folks around here talk. Nelda's got
the grandkids with her, but I see them a lot. It's not too bad."

"I'm sorry. You were married a long time."

"A good while, yeah."

"What happened, Nick?"

"Nelda had some problems, and so did I. We got to where we couldn't work things out. It was just ... you know ... arguing and
fussing all the time."

"I know," Brenda said softly.

He turned one of the hot dogs perpendicular to the other on the
plate. "I figure we'll probably get divorced. Nothing to keep us
together any longer. I've got a mobile home on my brother's land.
It's not much, but it does me fine. My son, Leland, stays there most
of the time too. He works construction like me; only he's with a
contractor. My daughter went off someplace and left her kids
behind. We think she might be in California, but really it's anybody's guess. Drugs, you know? I don't hold with drugs. They
never did anybody a bit of good. I won't take so much as an aspirin.

"What about all those bones you broke in your rodeo days?"

"Nope. Not even an aspirin. Just wrapped up those broken
bones and let 'em set. They healed pretty good. I don't have much
to complain about."

Brenda watched him align the second hot dog with the first.
"You're a good man, Nick," she said. "I'm glad you worked on my
basement."

Blazing blue, his eyes focused on hers. "You're a lot better than
me, girl. Smarter. Richer. Educated. Classy. Listen, before I get
done here, I've got to tell you ... I want to say ..."

She swallowed as he hung his head and pushed his hands into
his back pockets.

"Well, I'm glad too," he said. "Glad I worked here with you.
Glad I got to know you. Most jobs, I just show up and do the work.
But I looked forward to-"

"Me too," she cut in. "I was always happy when I heard your
truck."

"Brenda. . ." He reached up and ran his callused finger along a
row of tiny embroidered roses on the sleeve of her T-shirt. "I
would never hurt you."

"I know that." She was trembling as his hand slipped around her back and pressed her toward him. She shook her head. "Nick, you
shouldn't."

"Just let me hold you, girl," he murmured, pulling her close and
wrapping his arms around her. "I can't leave this place unless I
hold you just once ... but I'm scared if I do, I'll never be able to let
you go.

"This is wrong, Nick. I know it is, but it feels so wonderful." She
slid her hands around him and rested her cheek against his firm
shoulder. "I don't see what we can ever do."

"Let me kiss you, Brenda. Just that much."

"Nick, I-"

The basement's sliding door scraped open. "Hi, I'm Cody!"
a cheerful voice announced. "Wow, hot dogs! I love hot dogs!"

I see you!" Cody stumbled into the basement as Brenda pushed
out of Nick's arms and hugged herself in dismay. The young man
grinned and lifted a grimy hand to wave at her. Cody looked ten
times worse than a few weeks before. His beard had grown longer
and was now tangled in with his long brown hair. Littered with
leaves and burrs, his hair had begun coiling into naturally matted
dreadlocks. Sunburned, filthy, smelling like the inside of a trash
barrel, he wore rags that barely hung together on his skinny frame.
His teeth were brown.

"I see you, Brenda," he said, smiling happily, "and I've been
looking hard to find you. Here you are! Your house is right where it
used to be, but I couldn't see it for a long time."

"Now, listen here, fella." Nick LeClair squared his shoulders and
took a protective step in front of Brenda. "You can't just go barging
into a person's house like that. Who do you think you are?"

"Hi, I'm Cody. Who do you think you are?"

Realizing she was suddenly trembling, Brenda laid a hand on
Nick's arm. "Nick, this is Cody," she murmured. "It's all right. I
know him."

"Who do you think you are, fella?" His eyes on the other man,
Cody repeated the words in his usual cheerful voice.

Brenda spoke up quickly. "This is the man who painted the
basement, Cody. He's my helper."

"How old is he?"

"Older than you," she said. "Cody, let me take you upstairs to
the kitchen and make you a sandwich. I bet you're hungry."

"Those hot dogs look good. I love hot dogs."

"They belong to Nick."

"Nick." Cody's brows drew together as he studied the handyman. "Brenda is my friend, Nick. She makes me soup and sandwiches and chocolate cake. She's a Christian, because my daddy
said anyone would give you food, but only a Christian would give
you chocolate cake."

"Come on, Cody. Please." Brenda knotted her fingers together
as she spoke, stunned that she had been caught in Nick's arms and
fearful that Cody might mention it to someone. If she could get
him upstairs, maybe a big plate of food would make him forget
what he had seen. She unlocked her fingers, took his thin wrist, and
began to pull him toward the staircase.

"Nick, are you a Christian?" Cody asked as he shuffled backward.

"I reckon so.... Brenda, listen-"

"No," she blurted out, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Just
finish up, Nick. Finish the basement and go. I'm sorry. I'm so
sorry.

"Brenda.
.."

"Hurry, Cody. Let's go see what we can find for you to eat. I
know I have some roast beef in the freezer, and we'll make you a big
sandwich."

"I love chocolate cake. Triangles are okay, but I like squares
better."

"I don't have any chocolate cake," she muttered, tugging him up
the last couple of steps.

Brenda felt tears welling up in her eyes as if a flood had suddenly
broken through a dam. What on earth had she just done? Why had
she ever gone into that basement alone with Nick in the first place?
Had she purposely lured him into her arms this afternoon? Or had
he seduced her? What kind of a man was he really-sincere, honest, and truly attracted to her ... or a Romeo who would pick up
any woman he could?

Oh, why had she let herself do something so wrong and stupid?
What if Steve found out? What if Cody told on her ... or what if
Nick said something?

On the other hand, why did she even care what her husband
thought? She had just been considering how it would feel to
divorce Steve. But did she really want that? What if Steve informed
the kids that their mother had been unfaithful?

Adultery. That awful word.

She hadn't given in to infidelity-at least not physically. But
wasn't there a Bible verse about adultery in your mind ... looking
at someone with lust ... sinning with the heart? She couldn't even
think straight! What was Nick doing now in the basement? Would
he come upstairs? What would she say if he did? How could she
possibly make everything feel all right again?

"I see you, Brenda," Cody said. He was moving along behind
her slowly. "I see you, and you're my friend. You look just the same
as you did that night when it was raining. Remember? I thought
Jesus was in the basement, but it was just me in the glass door,
huh?"

"Yes, that was it." Brushing a tear from her cheek, Brenda
opened the freezer door and took out a chunk of roast beef she had
cooked in preparation for her kids' aborted spring-break visit.

"Maybe Nick was in the basement that night," Cody suggested.
"Do you think Nick looks like Jesus?"

"No, absolutely not. Listen, Cody, please forget about him,
okay? Nick is just the man who fixed up the basement. You never
saw him before, and you won't ever see him again."

"I don't think Nick is like Jesus, because he didn't share his hot
dogs with me. Jesus shared five loaves and two fishes with a multitude, and a multitude means lots and lots of people. `And he commanded the multitude to sit down on the grass, and took the five
loaves, and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed,
and brake, and gave the loaves to his disciples, and the disciples to
the multitude. And they did all eat, and were filled.' Matthew
14:19-20. My daddy learned me that one when it was snowing outside and we didn't have any groceries. And my daddy said Jesus
always shared His food."

Brenda couldn't bring herself to respond. Hands shaking, she
cut several slices from a loaf of French bread while the plastic container of roast beef defrosted in the microwave oven. Why had she
let Nick touch her? Oh, it had felt so good to be held again ... sweet
words whispered against her cheek ... words of desire.

She would have kissed him. There was no way she could deny it.
But how had she let it come to that? She barely knew the man.

"I went with you to get a haircut," Cody was saying. "Then a
really loud noise started near us, and I thought it was coming after
me. I ran down in the woods and climbed a tree. I went real high up
... so high I got myself scared to deaf. I could hear you calling me,
but I was too scared to come down. I thought I might fall out of the
tree or that noise might start again."

Brenda tried to concentrate on Cody as she spread mayonnaise
on the bread and took a handful of potato chips from a bag. Had he
actually observed her in Nick's arms? Might he ever blurt out that
information in front of Steve? Or anyone? She longed to hustle
Cody out the door and tell him to never come back. But he was
rambling so happily now, as if he had found peace at last.

"I never thought I would see you again, Brenda," he said. "But
Ito see you now-I sure do. After I climbed down from the tree, I
looked for you everywhere, up and down the lake and in the woods
and on the roads. I searched just the way I searched for my daddy,
even though he already had told me he was never coming back. I searched for him a long time, but he was telling me the truth.
`You're twenty-one now, Cody. Time to make your way.' That's
what my daddy said. I thought it would be the same with you, and
you were never coming back. But here you are, and how about
that?"

She pushed a plate toward the young man as he perched on a
stool at the kitchen counter. "Here, Cody. Eat this, and then you
can go sit on the porch swing."

"Okay. But it's not night yet, Brenda. I don't go to sleep until it
gets dark." He bit into the sandwich, closed his eyes, and chewed
blissfully.

"You look like you haven't been eating much," Brenda
observed, her heart softening toward Cody as she watched him.
"You're very thin."

"I found a restaurant where they throw out French fries and
onion rings. Sometime you can get pizza there too. I stayed awhile,
but then they ran me off. People don't like me to eat out of their
trash. I learned that a long time ago. But sometimes that's all you
can find. Trash-can food is not as good as soup and sandwiches
and chocolate cake, like you gave me. It's cold and sometimes it
stinks. But I learned you have to make your way. That's what my
daddy told me to do, and I do it."