To Love and Honor (4 page)

Try as she might, Violet could not use past circumstances to influence this decision. She knew that, whether or not she took her mother, her Christian commitment was on trial. In this crisis, would she hear her Master's commendation, “Well done, good and faithful servant”? Or would He say to her, “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me”? Did she have a faith strong enough to sustain her in the crucible of life? She would soon find out.

 

Although Violet couldn't tell anyone in Maitland about her problem, she knew she did have to contact her aunt, Ruth Reed. They often chatted via phone on Saturday afternoon, so Ruth didn't think anything unusual about the call, and they visited several minutes before Violet came to the reason for the contact. In concise terms, she explained the situation.

Ruth caught her breath sharply, and was silent for a minute or more when Violet finished. “Oh, poor Linda,” Ruth finally said. “After all she's been through, what a sad way to end her life.”

Violet was dumbstruck for a few moments. Since Roger's visit, she had been dwelling on how this emergency would affect
her;
she had never once considered her mother's side of the situation, but how like Aunt Ruth to think of others first. She proved that by her next words.

“Of course, you can't take her, Violet. I'll bring her to my home and care for her.”

“Now, Aunt Ruth…”

“Violet, listen to me. If you bring Linda into your
home, there's a chance that her whole past will blow up in your face. Both your mother and I have tried to shield you from the consequences of events that weren't your fault. We can't let it surface now.”

“Roger said that she told the prison officials she didn't have any relatives, and they traced me through my birth certificate. She apparently doesn't want to come here.”

“No, she wouldn't, so don't worry any more about it. I'll get in touch with the correctional facility and tell them I will assume her care.”

Violet hesitated. How tempting it was to dump the problem on Ruth.
Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.
“Please don't make any arrangements for a few days, Aunt Ruth. Honestly, it would be a relief to shove all of this on your shoulders, and I'm not even sure if I can assume the responsibility for my mother. But I'm twenty-five years old, and if I'm not mature enough now to face up to my obligations, I never will be. Give me a few days, and pray for me that I might make the right decision.”

 

As he often did on Saturday night, Larry took her to the country club, which featured a lavish buffet on the weekends. When he removed her coat to hang it on the rack, his hands lingered on her shoulders. “Say! You're beautiful tonight. Is that a new dress?” She nodded as they were escorted to a reserved table. “I didn't know the teachers at our school received a raise in salary,” he joked.

She laughed, and for a moment, cheered by his admiration, forgot the calamity about to break over her head. “I'm a careful shopper,” she answered.

After he seated her, he took a small box from his pocket, opened it and removed a thin silver chain. “Allow me,” he said, and he bent toward her, fastened the necklace around her throat and left his arm on her shoulders. Touched, Violet lifted her hand to feel the smooth circlet around her neck.

“It's beautiful. Thank you,” she said, “but what's the occasion?”

“I wanted to make amends for my harsh words a few days ago. I was so intent on heading off a potential crisis among our pupils and parents that I didn't consider the right and wrong of what I asked you to do. I shouldn't have put you in such a position.”

She covered his hand resting on her shoulder with her fingers. “Don't speak of it again. Have you had any repercussions over Janie's selection?”

“Oh, a few murmurings from some of the students, but so far, no parent has contacted me.”

“But you may have telephone calls on Monday.”

“Quite possibly, but we won't let that ruin our evening together. Shall we go to the buffet? It isn't crowded now.”

At the buffet Violet asked for a small portion of roast beef, which she surrounded with several vegetables. The salad bar was always tempting, but she chose only a bowl of marinated vegetables. She had little appetite, but to keep Larry from asking unwanted questions, she forced herself to eat. They lingered over their dessert and coffee.

As they drove back to her home, Larry said, “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving weekend? I'm flying to Colorado with several of my friends for skiing. I would like for you to go as my guest.”

Violet's spirits plummeted. For much of the eve
ning, she had forgotten about her mother. “That sounds great, but I'm not sure I can go. I may have company that weekend. Aunt Ruth often comes here on Thanksgiving, and I go to her home for the Christmas holidays. May I let you know in a few days?”

“Sure, but we need to make reservations by the end of the week.”

When Larry kissed her good-night, his caress was more passionate than it had ever been, suggesting a new level in their relationship. He had never kissed her so ardently, he'd never asked her to accompany him on a trip before, nor had he bought her any jewelry. Should she jeopardize a possible marriage with the catch of Maitland by taking in her mother? On the other hand, should she tell Larry the truth about her past?

 

Violet changed into casual clothing after the Sunday worship service, and was about to prepare her lunch when the phone rang. It was Roger, wanting to know how she felt.

“All right, I suppose, but I'm no nearer a decision than when you brought me the news.”

“You looked a little down.”

“Gee, thanks—I needed that encouragement,” Violet replied with a laugh.

He laughed then, too. “I didn't mean it that way. You were beautiful as always, but you seemed distressed. And with reason, too,” he added. “What are your plans for this afternoon?”

“Nothing special.”
Except throwing a pity party for myself, I suppose,
she thought. “You can either feel flattered or annoyed, Roger, I don't let my guard down
with anyone except you. Most people think I never have a care in the world.”

“The kids have gone to a concert this afternoon, and I'm going out to my farm to exercise the dogs. Come with me. I'll throw some sandwiches in a backpack, and we can eat out in the open. The temperatures are supposed to be warm this afternoon.”

“I warn you I'm feeling rather grumpy.”

“You're not the first grumpy female I've encountered.”

She smiled, and her voice softened. “You've talked me into it. I'll contribute apples and cookies to the picnic. What time?”

“Pick you up in a half hour. Wear walking shoes and a jacket.”

As Violet hurriedly washed two yellow apples and placed some cookies in a plastic bag she felt her mood lightened. It would be relaxing to spend the afternoon with Roger; he accepted her as she was.

Roger's fifty-acre farm was located ten miles from town. There were a few outbuildings and a small house, which he utilized as a retreat when he wanted to escape the pressure of his work. Most of the farmland was tillable, and he rented this to a neighbor to raise corn. Ten acres of the property was rugged, covered with deciduous and evergreen trees. He bypassed the buildings and drove on a private road along a large creek until he reached the base of the hill.

“Do you come out here often?” Violet asked.

“Not as often as I want to. I try to bring the dogs for a run at least once a week, and spend a few hours at the house. I'll give you a tour of that before we go back to town.”

His dogs were housed in a wooden structure in the
back of his pickup. He opened the doors, and two beagles with smooth white coats, black-and-tan patches, and long, droopy ears, vaulted out of the box and into the underbrush beside the truck. They nosed around in the grass for a few minutes, and then with a yelp, the largest dog took off through the woodland, with his companion right behind him.

“Should we follow them?”

“Not unless you're feeling overly energetic. They'll cover lots of miles this afternoon. They go where they want to, and when I want to leave, I whistle them in.”

“And they always come?”

“Well, not always, but let's hope they do today. I have to go on duty tonight at eight o'clock, so I can't spend much time looking for dogs. But they'll be all right unless they pick up a deer's scent. They're not supposed to chase anything except rabbits, but I don't have time to train them as they should be.”

He reached in the truck for a bright orange pack, in which he stored Violet's apples and cookies, and strapped it over his back. Pointing upward through the trees, he said, “This is a one-hiker trail. Do you want to go first?”

“I'll follow since I don't know where we're going.”

He adjusted the straps on the backpack. “Call out, if you want to rest.”

Sunlight heated Violet's back as it filtered through leafless trees. The forest floor was carpeted with colorful foliage, and in moist places, green ferns decorated the earth as if placed there by a landscape designer. Violet noticed many different kinds of birds flitting among the trees: noisy chickadees bobbing their black heads and saucily scolding the intruders;
brilliant, squawking blue jays already gathered into colonies for the winter and not yet accustomed to close communion; cardinals swooping back and forth among the undergrowth, picking berries from wild holly bushes; and woodpeckers hopping up and down tree trunks looked for insects.

Violet admired the fleecy clouds that punctuated the vivid blue sky and breathed deeply of the fresh air. In the distance, the two dogs barked in excitement, and as the sounds shifted often, she assumed they were hot on the trail of some prey.

At first the climb was gradual, but when they came to a steep incline, Roger stopped and waited for her to catch up.

“We've only a short distance to go, but this last five minutes takes some wind. We need to stop and do some deep breathing.”

“What an invigorating walk! Why haven't you asked me to hike with you before?” she asked in mock severity.

“When I come out here, I want to be alone, excepting present company,” he added with a grin. “I like people, as you know, but sometimes I need privacy. As to why I haven't brought you, I hadn't thought of it for one thing, but I decided you needed to be with me today. Even if you don't want to talk about your problem, I'm the only one who knows and understands about it. So talk or not, be assured that I'm here for you, whatever your need.”

She reached out her hand, and he took it in a strong grasp. “Thanks.”

“Ready to go on?” he asked. At her nod, he released her hand. “Good. I'm hungry. The sooner we reach the peak the better.”

Violet was gasping for breath when they reached the top of the rocky and arid hill, bare of vegetation except for a few windblown pines.

“Our picnic table,” Roger said, pointing to a level stone outcropping under one of the trees.

Violet dropped down on the rock with relief and loosened the top of her hooded sweat jacket. “Whew! I didn't know I had a heart until it started thumping. My blood is really flowing now.”

“That's good for you,” Roger said as he unzipped the backpack and spread it open to reveal the contents.

“You're in for a treat—Gibson's turkey sandwiches,” he said, “but let's have a word of prayer first.”

He reached for Violet's hand, and held it in his large warm one. “God, we are thankful for the beauty of Your earth. I never feel as close to You as I do when I'm in the woodlands. But Violet has a problem, God, and we believe You can bring the solution. You know the past and the future, and we are hazy on both of those points when it comes to her mother. What should she do? What can I do to help her? We are Your servants, Father, help us to recognize Your leading. Bless this food to our bodys' use and give us a good afternoon together. Amen.”

Violet tightened her grip on Roger's hand, and she gazed long into his eyes before she loosened her grasp. The genuine concern he had expressed for her in his prayer touched her deeply and she was speechless in the face of his heartfelt concern.

The apples and sandwiches complemented one another, and the cool juice in plastic containers alleviated Violet's thirst, which was intense after the climb. The cookies made a fitting conclusion to the meal.

“This is a good time for a nap,” Roger said, “if
you don't mind the hard rock.” He stretched out across the rock, put his hands under his head and closed his eyes. Violet found a nearby pine tree and sat down beneath it. She intended to think about the decision she must make soon, but her mind was blank. She had always heard, “Don't put off until tomorrow what you should do today,” and perhaps that should apply in this situation. She couldn't stand much more emotional turmoil. A stiff breeze riffled the tops of the pines and the limbs swayed rhythmically, but the wind didn't reach their secluded, sunny spot. She closed her eyes, and may have slept a few minutes, but Roger's stirring on the rock alerted her.

“If you're ready, we'll head back toward the truck on a different trail, and I'll start calling the dogs. They're probably resting, too—I haven't heard them barking for several minutes.”

The ridge path was wider, and they walked side by side in companionable silence. Perhaps Roger sensed that Violet needed time to think through her decision and he respected that time. Roger was never a garrulous man, but he normally talked more than he had today. Occasionally, he whistled for the dogs and received an answering yelp. By the time they reached the truck, the beagles, still full of pep, were panting at their heels, tongues drooling.