Bossy Bridegroom (11 page)

Please, God, create something new in me. Give me the words to encourage her
.

“No, you don’t.”

He looked down and saw the top of her head. So familiar, so much time in her short life with her head bowed in fear or shame. So much of it his fault.

“You
want
me for whatever reason.” She spoke into his chest. “Or maybe you’re just
stuck
with me and trying to figure out how to make it work. But you don’t need me at all.”

Michael gently lifted her chin until she looked at him. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Misery etched lines into her face.

God, forgive me. Help me. I never wanted to make her cry again
.

He loved her. He couldn’t resist lowering his head and kissing her. Even that, in the midst of her misery, she accepted and gave without thought to herself.

When the kiss ended, Michael said, “I think we’ve been too busy lately, running in so many directions. We need to be spending time with the Lord. A devotion every day. Tonight we start. Let’s go through these sticky notes and read your verses. And we’ll make time for the Lord every morning. We’ve been neglecting counseling, too. Let’s ask Pastor Bert if we can meet with him once a week. Maybe he’ll give you a new bat.”

Jeanie laughed through her tears. “I think the bat actually helped. Even just sitting in the room it was a reminder to both of us that we had a weakness in our marriage that needed our constant attention.” She stretched up and kissed him. “I’ll tell you something that I probably shouldn’t because it will just inflate your ego.”

Michael widened his eyes in mock excitement. “I could really use this. You’ve reminded me of how far we have to go. My ego could use some inflation.”

With another laugh, she said, “I’m so proud of you.”

The mock excitement died, replaced with a melting heart. “You are?”

“You have so many great qualities. I have you close, and I start depending on you and obeying you because you’re so smart and so full of life and enthusiasm. It’s so logical that I’d let you lead. Mostly, ninety-percent of the time it would be stupid to do things any way except yours.”

“Only ninety-percent?”

“Okay, ninety-nine percent.” She punched his arm playfully.

“But you lose yourself.” It was in his nature to take charge. He had to fight it, even if it made sense for him to run things.

“And since it’s my own fault, it’s even harder to talk about.” She looked up, and Michael saw tears brimming in her shining eyes. “It’s my problem. Taking it to you just dumps more on you and makes me a burden.” Her voice broke, and she buried her face against his chest.

“You’re not a burden, sweetheart. And it’s not your problem. I am as much at fault in our marriage as you. More, in fact. I was the one who was—and sometimes still is—unkind. You were just too nice to start throwing coffee mugs at my head. Guess which one of those is the worst?” Aching for her, he ran a hand down her hair and held her as she cried.

After a few minutes, she shook her head and cleared her throat. “The few tiny things I’d like different are silly. I start mentally beating up on myself, and it’s worse than anything you do.”

Michael offered her a handkerchief. “Probably not.”

Mopping her eyes, she laughed again, a husky laugh with a throat swollen from crying. “Just be patient with me, Michael. Give me a chance to figure out how to change and grow and give you what you need.”

“Thank you. Thank you for trusting me enough to say that. You’re such a good, sweet person.” He kissed her. And her generosity was his.

After Jeanie had left him to his lonely bed, Michael took a moment to thank God then remembered they’d left the Bible in the kitchen.

He should go get Jeanie, and they should keep that commitment they’d made to have a devotional time every day. But his eyes were heavy and he was too comfortable. They’d spend time with the Lord tomorrow.

A small voice whispered inside his head not to put God off until later. His eyes popped open, and suddenly his exhaustion was lessened. He shoved the blanket back and pulled on his robe as he headed for the kitchen. He reached Jeanie’s room and knocked.

“Yes?”

He heard tension in her voice. He spoke quickly before she could get the wrong idea.

“We forgot to have an evening devotion, honey. Are you too tired?”

“No, I’m not too tired. It’s a good idea.”

“I left my Bible in the kitchen.”

Jeanie’s door opened. Her face was clean scrubbed. Her hair mussed as if she’d been tossing and turning in bed. Her eyes shone with pleasure that he’d thought of this and come to her.

It was all he could do not to pull her close and kiss her. Something in her eyes told him that, right now, she’d welcome him.

“I–I’ll meet you there then.” She didn’t move to get her own Bible.

Unable to resist, Michael grabbed a quick kiss then a slower one; then he forced himself to straighten away from her.

“Great.” He moved on down the hall.

Besides her normal work, Jeanie had to get a meal together for Jake and Emily, to welcome the new baby.

Their son, Logan, was beautiful. He reminded Jeanie painfully of all she’d given up. She missed confiding in Emily, but her friend was so busy, Jeanie couldn’t impose.

Jake was floating around as if he’d been crowned king. He’d also found some rush of energy from fatherhood. With the help of a volunteer crew and some rented earth-moving equipment, he’d cleared the whole golf course and smoothed the rolling hills, ready to seed in the fall.

The Fourth of July celebration was coming at them like a freight train. The whole town was excited. Everyone was involved. Michael had yet to talk with Buffy and sign the adoption papers, but who could blame him?

He’d found another inflatable bat, and Jeanie kept it behind the counter at her café, but she was too much in love to use it. They’d found posters and figurines of buffalo as well as some Western décor. Michael had insisted on offering buffalo burgers on the menu, although Jeanie knew Buffy hated the idea, and he’d had a sign made naming the place the Buffalo Café.

He didn’t consult Jeanie about the sign, just presented it to her as a gift. He’d been calling it Jeanie’s Café up to now. She’d enjoyed having it named after her for some dumb reason. Why would her name sell food?

Michael had hinted at doing the book work, and though that perturbed her and she’d teased him about the bat, he’d taken it over and she didn’t miss doing it.

To thank him for helping, she decided to decorate
herself
a bit and had some highlights added to her hair and started wearing a little bit of makeup again. She’d really let herself go since they’d been apart.

The café and Jeanie were both beginning to shine.

“It’s this weekend.” Michael came home later these days, and Jeanie had remembered some old recipes that kept well on low heat. She’d quit offering him skimpy dinners.

Smiling as he came in the kitchen, she said, “I can’t wait. You’ve got everything ready. It’s going to be huge success.”

“This town is going to become a destination.” He slid into his place at the table. “We’re a great low-cost alternative for people wanting Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills. I’ve printed up some tourist information with all the places to drive in short trips. Everyone who comes to town over the Fourth will get one. We’re going to have to add cabins. Maybe I could even interest a chain in selling me a franchise.”

Jeanie hurried to set a platter of lean roast beef in front of him and quickly drained the new potatoes she’d cooked; then she added a plate of fresh sliced tomatoes. Michael had encouraged her to hire more help at the café, and now she got home right after lunch.

She should have dropped by the nursing home to visit with her last remaining patient, but instead, she’d driven to Rapid City to have her hair done and she’d wanted time to bake bread for supper. Tomorrow was Thursday, and the Fourth of July weekend began in earnest on Friday.

When Michael had everything in front of him, she settled into her own place on the opposite side of the rickety white Formica-top table.

After he’d eaten a few bites, he managed to look up. “I’m sorry. I’m eating like a hungry wolf, and I’ve barely spoken to you. I’m starving and this tastes great.” Then his eyes focused. “Hey, your hair. I like it.”

Her heart gave a little extra leap of pleasure. “I had it cut. Lightened a little, too.”

“You look terrific. You drove into Rapid City today, didn’t you?” He slid one hand over her hair and took a second to touch her dangling earrings playing peek-a-boo with her sassy, uneven cut.

She’d told him she was going to, but it must not have registered until he saw her new hairdo.

“Yeah, there’s a hairdresser in the mall I’d heard a lot about. The local beautician has a tendency to burn hair to a crisp with bleach.” She spent mornings at the café, but with the hired help there wasn’t a lot left for her to do except greet people. Michael had hinted that she should dress a little better for the job. She’d started wearing a skirt and heels to act as hostess. The shoes killed her feet, which made it all that much easier to hand the reins over to her very competent help.

“I’d rather go with you when you drive in the city. The traffic is pretty heavy.”

“I’d prefer it if you went with me, too. I haven’t done much city driving. I don’t need to go back for a while. Maybe after the Fourth we could visit Mount Rushmore.” She’d never owned a car since she’d moved to South Dakota. Hadn’t wanted one, hadn’t been able to afford one. So Rapid City was intimidating.

Michael went back to his meal, filling her in on all the details of his day. When he finished eating, he headed straight for the office and his phone. He called over his shoulder as he left the room, “It was a delicious meal.”

Jeanie watched him go. Their counseling sessions with Pastor Bert had been delayed for the last two weeks. They needed to get back to them. They hadn’t done their daily devotions for a few days either.

She bit her bottom lip and tried to figure out how to remind Michael, but it just wasn’t fair to dump this all on him when he was so busy. But how was standing here feeling drab and afraid to drive fair to her?

It wasn’t. She had let things slip, and she needed to stand up for herself again.

Their marriage should come first. And it would—after the Fourth. Things would settle down then.

The time was almost up on those adoption papers, too. By the end of summer, if Michael hadn’t formally protested, the adoption would go through with or without his signature. But until it was finished, Jeanie would worry. And she’d started ducking Buffy at church so she wouldn’t have to see her sister fume.

As she cleaned up the kitchen, Jeanie heard Michael’s voice, that rise and fall, his wheeler-dealer voice. Somehow it seemed as if he’d sold her a bill of goods, too, but wasn’t that just her own sinful nature fretting, being dissatisfied?

She took her Bible and went to her room. She preferred to stay in there most evenings so she wouldn’t have to see Michael and conjure up all the enthusiasm he expected for the changes he was making in Cold Creek.

Sometimes he came to her room and held her, trying to sell her on the idea that all was well and their marriage should cease to be platonic. It reminded her of when they were dating.

Hesitantly, feeling like a bother, she left her room and looked in on Michael, who was working on his computer. “Are you using the phone?”

He looked up, a trace of annoyance on his face for being disturbed. “No, but isn’t it a little late to make a phone call?”

“It’s just past nine. I think it’s okay.”

“Who are you calling?”

That bothered her. As if he was going to approve or disapprove of letting her make the call.

“Emily.”

Michael nodded, which Jeanie assumed meant she had permission.

She took the handset off of its cradle. “I’ll make the call out here so I won’t distract you.”

Settled back in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her single bed, she dialed and Jake answered.

“Is Emily there? I mean, don’t bother her if she’s sleeping or got her hands full with Logan.”

“No, she’ll be glad to talk to an adult. She claims she’s reverting to baby talk herself.” Jake laughed.

Jeanie realized that Jake’s little comment could have been taken as slightly insulting to Emily, but he sounded so kind. Did all husbands put their wives down? Did Jeanie just hear Michael’s perfectly innocent words and twist them into something darker? Was all her unhappiness coming from her own warped mind?

“Hi, Jeanie. Thank you so much for calling. I’m desperate to talk to a grown-up.” Emily laughed. Jeanie knew how happy Emily was with Jake.

“I’m coming out with dinner as soon as I can.”

“Well, do it when you can stay awhile. I need to show off Logan to someone. He’s so beautiful.”

“I—I need to talk to someone about Michael.”

There was a stretched moment of silence. “Has something happened?”

“No, well, kind of, not really. I—I drove to Rapid City today and got—got my hair colored.” Jeanie waited, wondering if Emily could possibly read her mind. This would be so much easier.

“Did Michael order you to do it?”

Maybe Emily could read her mind a little.

“No, he’s never said a word. It’s me. I’ve just got this—this racket inside my head. Michael hasn’t done anything wrong, but I feel like such a failure. An embarrassment.”

“But he’s never said a word?” Jeanie heard the doubt in Emily’s voice.

“Well, nothing really critical. He wants me to dress better to hostess at the restaurant.”

“Which you interpreted to mean you’re a failure and an embarrassment.”

“Why do I do this? It’s not Michael’s fault if I’ve got critical voices inside my head telling me I’m not good enough.”

“Did you have those voices before Michael came back?”

“Well, yes, some.”

“But they’re a lot louder now, right?”

“A lot.”

“But you don’t think that’s Michael’s fault, right?”

“It doesn’t seem fair to blame him.”

“So you blame yourself.” The silence stretched. At last Emily asked, “Do you want me and Jake to come in?”