The Widow of Saunders Creek (30 page)

I grinned. “So we got free food because Eli is awesome?”

“Something like that. Man, this town loves that guy.”

“You don’t think anyone will spill the beans about this before he gets a chance to see it, do you?”

“No clue,” she said around a fat bite of her cheeseburger. “I’m sure his mom has told everyone it’s a surprise.” She tilted her head. “Don’t you think it would be cool to have a mom like Sam?”

“I guess so.” Her words irked me a little. As much as my mother’s control issues drove me crazy, I didn’t want to completely disregard her. “Painting this mural had me thinking about what it must be like for the kids whose parents are deployed. It’s made me sort of miss Mother.”

“Wow, you need sleep.” She grinned. “Just kidding. Funny, I was looking at the outline you’ve done and thinking that at least their dads come back when their deployment is up. I haven’t seen our dad in three years.”

“And four years before that.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I guess we just have to accept the fact that he isn’t going to be superdad.”

“It doesn’t make it any easier, though.” My appetite was gone, only halfway through my meal. I washed down my last bite with a swallow of diet soda and stood up. “I better get back to work.” Lola followed, carrying the containers into the kitchen to toss in the trash can. I washed my hands at the kitchen sink.

I’d have preferred to drop the subject, but Lola seemed to need to talk about it. “I guess sometimes you have to let go of people who can’t or won’t be in your life, for whatever reason.”

I pursed my lips, rolling my eyes. “So I guess you’re not talking about Dad now. You’re telling me to let go of Jarrod.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Actually no, I wasn’t thinking about you,
really. I was just wondering if my commitment issues are because of him not being around. But if your mind went there, maybe someone’s trying to tell you something.”

I ignored her last comment and focused on what she’d said about commitment issues. “I thought you were in therapy last year. Didn’t you talk about him?”

“I only went six times,” she said. “Six times equals six hours. I guess I never should have started the first session with Mother, because she’s all I could get through in six hours. And it didn’t work anyway, so I quit.” She peered more closely. “What about you? Do you think it might help for you to talk to someone about your loss?”

But she and I both knew I wasn’t ready to accept the loss as final. “I love you, Lola, but I have to work.”

“I know, I know, and I need to be quiet.” She grabbed the novel she’d been reading earlier and propped her feet on a chair. “Go get ’em, genius.”

Someone knocked on the door awhile later.

“I’m on it,” Lola said, and I didn’t bother to turn around. She wouldn’t have expected me to.

Ten minutes later, I reached a stopping point, and I stepped back and took in my painting with a critical eye. There was too much white in the sand. Frustrated, I turned, stretching my back. A baking dish sat next to a ceramic serving bowl, a bottle of salad dressing, and something else I couldn’t make out from where I was standing. Lola had settled back in with her book and seemed engrossed. I set down my
brush and grabbed a towel to wipe off my hands as I walked across the room. “What’s this?”

Lola glanced up from her book and smiled. “More food from the natives.”

“Did you get a name so we can send a thank-you card?” I lifted the foil from the baking dish, and tomato sauce tempted my senses, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast and eaten only half my lunch.

Lola hesitated. “It was Jarrod’s mom.”

“Liz brought this?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, why didn’t you let her in?” Wasn’t there enough tension between me and Jarrod’s family? Keeping her out just seemed like another push away.

“I invited her, but she didn’t want to interrupt your work. And I’m pretty sure she’s not holding her breath about the thank-you card, either, considering the birthday flowers and soup she made the other day.”

Her words stung, but I knew she was right. Clearly, our encounter at the café on my birthday had tripped something and caused Jarrod’s parents to reach out.

After grabbing the ceramic bowl, Lola removed the lid to reveal a leafy green salad.

“What’s in the other thing?”

I lifted a linen towel and revealed still-warm slices of homemade bread. My mouth watered.

“She made all your favorites,” Lola said, heading into the kitchen. She returned with place settings, and we sat to eat. “This is an olive branch if I’ve ever seen one. They’re trying.”

I knew they were, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I would have started crying, and that would have delayed my work.

I took infrequent breaks the rest of the night and only stopped working when I could barely keep my eyes open. Finally, at three o’clock Sunday morning, I stood back and observed my finished work. I’d never painted anything like it. But somehow it felt right.

“Lola,” I said, my throat hoarse from hours of not speaking, not to mention inhaling paint fumes. I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in a long time. “Lola!”

“Mmm.” Lola stretched out on one of the tables and had been sleeping for the past three hours. I had suggested she go home to bed several times, but she refused. Moral support was the official reason, but I figured she didn’t want to be alone in the house.

“I’m finished.” And just in the nick of time. I knew from Sam that Eli was supposed to get home early Sunday morning.

I walked back to the door so I could get the full effect of what it would be like to walk inside and see the painting first thing.

But it was Lola who said what I didn’t have words to verbalize. “Wow.”

I turned to find her sitting up on the table, her feet resting on the seat. “That’s beautiful. Eli is going to freak when he sees it.”

“I wish I could be a fly on the wall when he walks in.”

“Corrie!” Lola said. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” I walked forward to start cleaning up.

“You can’t just let him walk in. Don’t you want to do a big reveal so you can catch the full impact of his reaction?”

The truth was, the last thing I wanted was to be there when he saw the mural. What if he didn’t like it? I was also afraid he might still be
angry with me. He wouldn’t show it, I’m sure, but I would see it in his eyes and know.

Lola scowled, clearly disgusted at my decision not to break out the band and fireworks. “Fine, then. Let’s go home.”

“Help me rinse my brushes and pick up the mess.” I grinned at her. “You know the rules.”

“I hate rules.” I didn’t begrudge her the weary moan. “Can’t we come back and clean up tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “I want Eli to see the mural without all the clutter on the floor.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But since I gave up spending time with Joe for two evenings to help you, I think we could do something I want at least once.”

“Stop trying to make me feel guilty. You’ve spent lots of time with Joe.”

We cleaned up the mess, and within the hour we were home.

“Night,” Lola said, yawning around the word. She trudged upstairs to the guest room, and I fell onto the couch and pulled up my quilt.

I closed my eyes, aware that for once I could sleep without that aching sense of longing for Jarrod.

My thoughts went to Eli. I imagined his reaction when he walked into the chow hall in the morning, and my lips curved into a smile and my heart fluttered. I gathered a deep breath and my body relaxed.

I unlocked the door to the chow hall. Normally I didn’t go to the camp until after Sunday service, but after two nights away, I rose early and headed over to check things out. I recognized the strong smell of paint
before I stepped inside the chow hall. Light from the rising sun blasted into the room. Something felt different. Frowning, I walked two steps, put my hands in my pockets, and tried to make sense of the unsettled feeling, the smell of paint. And then it hit me. Slowly, I lifted my eyes toward the back of the room. I drew a sharp breath, and my jaw dropped open.

For the instant it took for my brain to catch up, I actually felt dizzy. Then I refocused and walked to the middle of the room, where I stopped again to take in the sight before me. Only Corrie had heard me say I’d like a mural to help the kids remember that even though they were separated from their parents, God saw them both at the same time. My heart leaped in my chest as I stared at what she had done.

This incredible piece of art she had created exceeded my wishes. I stared at the beauty in front of me, and tears burned my eyes. I didn’t even attempt to hold them back. I wouldn’t have been able to anyway.

The scene in front of me showed a kid wearing jeans and a T-shirt standing in a kid’s bedroom. The bed was made, but books were tossed across the twin-sized comforter, as though dumped there after a long school day. A few articles of clothing cluttered the floor. The kid stood looking into a full-length mirror, but the observer could only see the child from behind.

I don’t know how Corrie accomplished it, but you couldn’t tell the child’s gender. The teen in the mural honestly could have been a boy or a girl. Any of my campers would be able to relate.

But the kid wasn’t looking at himself or herself. Instead, the reflected image was of a soldier in full combat uniform. Again, the gender remained neutral. The soldier knelt in the desert sand, as though deep
in prayer. I got the sense that the kid was so close he or she could step through the mirror and be instantly cradled in the soldier’s arms.

A pair of long white wings surrounded them both, as though God had sent the guardian to hold child and soldier alike.

A soft gasp startled me, and I swung around to find my mother standing at the door, tears pouring down her face.

Smiling, I walked back to the door to stand next to her. “Well, that explains how she got in.”

Without apology, she nodded. “When she told me she wanted to paint you a mural, I had no idea. Oh, Eli … What a precious gift.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant the mural was Corrie’s gift to me or if she was referring to Corrie’s God-given ability to paint a story.

My mom swiped at her tears. “You know what Dad would say?”

I shook my head.

“He’d say, ‘The girl can swing a brush.’ ”

Joy welled up inside me as I looked back at the wall. I took it all in, as though seeing it for the first time.

I looked away only when Mom took my hand. “You know what I say?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Corrie is worth fighting for.”

I wasn’t sure if I slept. But when I opened my eyes, he was there … Jarrod. Sitting on the edge of the couch. I tried to sit up, longing to throw my arms around him. But he shook his head, holding up a staying hand, and my body refused to move. I shoved down the miniscule second of hesitation. He smiled but didn’t speak. His fingers started at my eyebrows, then lightly trailed downward, closing my eyes as though I were dead. Only I felt completely alive. My body tingled. I sighed as his fingertips continued along my jaw line. My throat. Tears burned my eyes, and I tried to open them, but like my limbs, they refused to obey my brain.

“Relax,”
I heard him say, but not with my ears. It was as though he spoke directly to my mind, and I understood his presence there. I felt his fingers touch my collarbone. I tensed. As much as I missed his touch, making love in every room in the house, holding each other, this wasn’t right, and I knew I had to stop it. But my body refused to move, no matter how much I wanted to sit up and push him away.

Fear clenched my stomach. In my mind’s eye I saw myself thrashing about, fighting for release, but my body stayed immovable as fear multiplied.

Please
, I thought.
Jarrod, I don’t want this. It’s not right
.

“Shh,”
he spoke to my mind.
“Take it easy, baby.”

I remembered Sam telling me if I felt it wasn’t right, then it wasn’t, and I could make it stop. But I couldn’t remember what else she said because my head was so fuzzy, my stomach clenched with fear. I had never been afraid of Jarrod before.

I’m not sure if I prayed, to be honest. I do know I thought,
Oh, God, please
. I suppose that’s a prayer.

In that instant, a knock sounded, loud and purposeful. I opened my eyes, trembling, and sat up. Disoriented, I looked around. Sunlight filtered in, so I knew I had been on the couch for at least a couple of hours.

The knock came again from the back door. Louder this time. I shoved back the quilt, stood on shaky legs, and stumbled down the hall.

I opened it to find Eli standing on the deck, staring at me and shaking his head wordlessly. I pushed open the screen, and at the sight of his kind smile, all my fear fell away. Stepping onto the deck, I went into his arms. “I’m so sorry for what I said, Eli. Please forgive me.”

“I forgave you before I drove away that day, honey.” I felt the simple pressure of a kiss on my head and smiled as the disturbing dream faded from my mind. His arms felt strong and warm and good. But I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. I stood back so he could come inside. “You saw the mural, I take it?”