Dad in Training (15 page)

“You and Dad had serious problems?”

“They were at the time. Marriage isn’t easy, Molly. It takes work. People have to give and take. They have to think of each other instead of themselves, but they can’t lose their own identity, either. Marriage is a partnership. It’s two people agreeing to disagree at times but loving every minute of it.”

“What about Nolan and Amy? Their marriage didn’t last.”

“Your sister and brother didn’t work at it. They gave up too early. A marriage can work if both parties want it and if they work together.”

“I know it takes two.”

Her mother slipped her arms around Molly’s shoulder. “You and Brent undertook the task of making the shelter a reality, and his father even joined in, which shows he’s a good man. You’ve both made a young boy happy, a boy who had some awful things happen to him at an early age, and yet he’s such a nice kid.”

Molly’s throat tightened, and she drained of energy. “What will happen to Randy if Brent and I aren’t meant to be? What if—”

“Don’t worry about what-ifs.” Her mother opened her arms, the knife slicing the air. Molly ducked. Her mom gaped at the blade, and they both laughed as she dropped it on the counter as Molly’s concerns eased in the slapstick moment.

Without the knife, her mom embraced her, holding her close. “You need the Lord to guide you, Molly. Your dad and I depend on God’s love and wisdom to steer us on the right course.”

“I pray, but doubts come anyway. Brent and I haven’t known each other long, but I felt a connection soon after we met. Something about him touched me. Underneath his bravado, I saw his vulnerability, and it didn’t turn me off. I loved the honesty I saw.” She drew back and looked into her mother’s eyes. “Don’t think he’s weak. He’s strong in many ways, and he’s kind. He makes me laugh, and he—”

Her mother pressed her finger against Molly’s lips. “That’s what love is, Molly. You feel it in your heart. Your spirit sings. Time isn’t an issue. How long you’ve known each other doesn’t matter. When God brings two people together to find love, our senses open to receive it. Accept the gift. Yes, be careful, but work toward it if it’s your heart’s desire.”

Heart’s desire. “I’d be empty without him.”

“I think so. Enjoy the journey, Molly. I know you’re impetuous, and that’s frightening when it comes to love, but don’t second-guess it. Let it happen. If it’s the Lord’s will, you’ll grow in the relationship. You can’t if you don’t give it a chance.”

Her tender look chased away Molly’s concern. Time was the answer.

B
rent gave the steaks another check and slid onto the picnic bench, half listening to his dad and Mr. Manning and half irritated that the steaks were going to end up overdone. He eyed the doorway again and drew in a long breath as he rose. Brent headed back to the barbecue and slid the steaks onto the plate he had waiting. He’d rather have lukewarm steaks than tough.

“Here they are,” Morris said in his booming voice.

Balancing the platter, Brent looked toward the door and noticed a thoughtful expression on Molly’s face. It sent a prickle down his arms. He could only guess her mother and she had been talking, but about what?

Mrs. Manning smiled at Brent’s dad as she set the large platter of corn in front of him. He let out a laugh and said something that was covered by Rocket’s yips as he watched the food heading his way.

While trying to shush Rocket, Brent carried the steak to the table. “The dog’s next lesson would be not begging while they ate. I think Randy’s been slipping him people food.”

“No way,” Randy said, pointing to the ground. “Rocket, down.”

Rocket eyed him a minute and then lay on the grass, one eye watching the activity at the table.

The Mannings folded their hands, and Brent followed, hoping his father caught on before he grabbed corn from the platter. Mr. Manning looked at Brent. “Would you say the blessing?”

Brent’s heart stopped. Say the blessing? He and prayer had been at odds until recently, and to say a prayer out loud—A knot in his chest, Brent peered at Molly’s father. “Sure.” The word bolted from his mouth, and he sent up a short prayer for the Lord to give him words. The paradox almost made him chuckle.

He wove his fingers together and bowed his head. Words weighed in his mind, and he sorted them. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for this…fellowship and for…for Your blessings. We ask You to bless this food to our bodies and—” He swallowed. And what? “And focus our hearts on You. Amen.”

Everyone added an amen. Even his father’s voice rumbled beneath the others. When Brent’s gaze swept the table, Molly seemed to study him. Their eyes connected, and her surprise melted to a tender grin. His lungs pulled in air, and the knot in his chest vanished.

With his tension eased, Brent motioned to the food. “Enjoy, before it gets cold.”

“I dropped by the other day and was amazed to see the progress.” His dad selected an ear of corn and cut a pat of butter from the plate. “What do you think of the building, Art?”

Brent waited, anxious to hear his response.

“Wonderful. Molly’s done a great job of using the space well, I thought.” His proud gaze sought Molly’s. “I know all of you have helped, and I thank you for the support you’ve given her.”

Brent appreciated her father’s enthusiasm. “No need to thank us. Molly’s a persuasive woman.” The salad reached him, and everyone chuckled as he spooned some into his bowl.

“You’ve noticed that,” Art said, giving Molly a wink.
“Since you’ve mentioned the building, we’ll start painting next week.” He directed his attention toward Brent. “We could use help if anyone has spare time. We’ll be working all day.”

“I’ll drop by after work and—”

“Daddy.” Molly’s expression showed her embarrassment. “They’ve done enough. We have plenty of help.”

“I’m sure Brent will pitch in if he can.” Her father’s direct look connected with Brent’s.

He hated painting, but the opportunity to spend time with Molly outshone the negative. Though his head battled his heart, Brent needed time to talk with her.

The conversation waned as they passed around the dishes and began to eat, except for comments about Flo’s tasty potato salad and the tender steak. Brent doubted that. In the unusual silence, he’d just taken a juicy bite from the ear of corn when Molly’s mother broke the silence with her startling questions.

“Morris, where do you attend worship?”

The question flew out of nowhere, and Brent sucked in a corn kernel and choked. He tried to regain his composure as he grasped his water and swallowed a gulp.

Molly flinched, and her hand flew up as if she thought she could catch the words. Her gaze flew to Brent’s, her cheeks coloring to pink. “Mom, I’m not sure—”

“I hate to admit it, but my church attendance has fallen off since my wife died.” Brent’s father lifted his fork as if it were a pointer. “But that’s not a good excuse, is it, Flo? Our family used to attend Hope Community Church, but it’s been a while.”

Brent turned to ice, expecting Molly’s mother to confront him.

“Well then,” her mother said, “wouldn’t it be nice if we attended worship together? Molly attends Lighthouse Christian Church. We could all go there.” She turned to Molly. “What time is the service tomorrow?”

Art patted his wife’s arm. “Flo, you’re putting these people on the spot.”

“Not at all.”

His dad’s response turned all eyes on Brent. “That’s fine with me.”

“Then it’s settled.” Flo clapped her hands together, grabbed her fork and knife and cut into the steak.

Brent followed the slice of her knife and for a moment felt as if it were his neck. Then a small voice inside him whispered, “Welcome home.”

Brent waited beside his car while Randy found stones on the asphalt and flipped them into the grass. Typical kid. He looked at the church, still feeling overwhelmed that he’d found himself here this morning, but something had moved Molly’s mother to invite them. After he’d agreed to join Molly’s family, he’d realized that the invitation had been God’s doing. He’d been dealing with his faltering faith far too long, and since meeting Molly, an unexpected urge had him wanting to make restitution.

Still, his grudge with the Lord clung to him like gum on a shoe. No matter how hard he tried to scrape it off, sticky pieces still held fast. But he knew God could be very persistent.

Brent waited, and when his father’s car rolled into a nearby parking space, Randy tossed the last of his stones in one handful and sprinted to his side. The boy had more energy than Brent ever remembered having.

The three of them headed for the entrance, and Brent took the steps ahead of his dad, wanting to rid himself of the anxious feeling. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, Molly waited in the entrance, a troubled expression on her face.

She stepped forward. “You came.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I figured it would serve my mother right if…” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “I can’t believe I sound so vindictive.”

Before he could respond, his father loomed beside them with Randy tugging on his suit jacket, bugging to go inside.

Molly shifted to his father’s side. “I apologize for my mother’s pressure, but I’m so pleased you came.”

His dad grasped her hand and held it. “Never apologize for someone wanting to share the Lord with others. Your mother has done me a service. I’ve been delinquent about putting God in my life, and today could be a new beginning.” He let go of her hand as he eyed Brent. “I’ll let my son speak for himself.”

Brent tried to read his father’s tone. Failing, he slipped his arm around Molly’s shoulder. “I’m fine with this.”

She gave him a questioning look. “Really.”

He lowered his arm and caught her hand in his. “We’d better get inside.”

“Finally,” Randy said, jiggling at the doorway.

Randy and his dad led the way while Brent and Molly walked behind. Randy’s eagerness was infectious, and Brent’s steps felt weighted by the awareness that this might be the first time the boy had been inside a church.

Brent’s father and Randy slid into the seats beside the Mannings, and Brent motioned to Molly to go ahead. When he sat, he gazed down the row, sensing God’s jubilation that He’d finally gotten him back to church. Adding to the welcome feeling, Brent looked ahead at the summer sun seeping through the windows and peppering golden splotches along the carpet.

He grinned at Molly, his turmoil soothed by the music and Molly’s warm look. He tried to follow the hymn. A new one to him, Brent muttered the song, hoping people around him would cover his voice. As his nervousness subsided, he focused on the single stained-glass window in front of him, a lighthouse standing tall and strong while being lashed by stormy seas. The Lord is my refuge. The words filled his mind.

The preacher strode to the platform, his Bible spread open. “If you are sinless, please raise your hand.”

Brent shifted his eyes in one direction, then another. No one moved.

The preacher scanned the worshipers. “I assume, then, that you’re all sinners, as I am.”

A muscle ticked in Brent’s jaw, and he listened to those around him muttering their yeses and amens.

“None of us have escaped sin.”

The message struck Brent’s thoughts.

“We are guilty and condemned.”

Brent knew that. He’d breathed the sentiment all his life.

“But through God’s mercy, we are all forgiven. He sees us clothed in white raiment, pure and perfect, in His eyes.”

Brent winced at the image. No one would ever think of him as pure and perfect. No one. His knee bounced, and Brent pressed his hand against it to stop the agitation, but the turmoil stirred his mind. How could he ever think Molly would love him? He was too flawed.

“Unbelievers can’t understand our thinking. They believe we are foolish. We are deluded and led astray by fables. But those of us who know our Father understand His unending love, forgiveness and mercy.” He raised the Bible aloft. “We know the truth from scripture.” He lowered the Bible and embraced it. “Though we love the Lord and praise Him, we continue to open ourselves to sin and doubts…”

Brent squirmed against the seat, sensing the man had read his mind.

Molly glanced his way, her eyes questioning.

His mind drifted from the message to his own situation. Could he ever let go of the guilt he felt for Randall’s death? If he uttered the emotion, most people would shake their heads at his foolishness, but it was all too real for him. Molly would tell him to give it to the Lord. Brent had been taught that God answers prayer, but the Lord had ignored his.

Hearing his own heavy breathing, Brent tried to calm himself. He lowered his head, longing for the Lord to release the baggage he’d carried for too many years.

“From the New Life Bible, Isaiah 30:18,” the pastor said, pulling Brent from his thoughts. “‘
So the Lord wants to show you kindness. He waits on high to have loving-pity on you. For the Lord is a God of what is right and fair. And good will come to all that hope in Him
.’”

The message struck him again. God is right and fair. He feels pity for people’s earthly struggles, and He has goodwill for those who believe. Faith. Had his faith weakened beyond repair? No. Brent wanted God’s goodwill. The hairs on his arms prickled. God gave His love freely. All Brent had to do is reach out and take it.

His hand moved to Molly’s. She looked into his eyes, and he sensed she saw what he felt—something indefinable, but a kind of awareness he’d never experienced before.

Molly’s fingers wound through his, her warm palm pulsating against his.

Faith is what he needed. The Bible said faith could move mountains. The logic of that cut through him. How could he believe with confidence when he’d drifted so far from his faith? Molly’s answer repeated in his mind. “Things happen in God’s time, not ours.”

God’s time. Wait on the Lord. The words pierced his heavy thoughts.

The pastor’s voice jutted into Brent’s consciousness.

“When you doubt and waver—” he held the Bible above his head, his other hand over his heart “—Our God knows the truth. He knows our struggles and our regrets. He hears us crying out to Him.” He lowered the Bible and extended it toward the worshipers. “It’s right here in Scripture. “‘
We will be confident when we stand before the Lord, even if our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything
.’ Be confident. God knows your heart.”

The scripture washed over him like baptism, like the sun sprinkling through the window. Molly’s words pounded in his temple. “It’s not on the outside. It’s what’s in the heart.” Molly and God were on the same page.

A deep need rolled over him. He and Molly had to talk. If he had his way, he would escape with her after church, but with her parents’ visit, suggesting such a thing would be out of the question. Once again, he’d wait.

The pungent scent of paint permeated the building. Molly stood in the doorway of her office, admiring the soft coral color she’d selected, like the beginning of a sunset and the beginning of her new endeavor to save the lives of faithful animals who only needed a good home. She’d stained the wooden shelving a warm oak that blended well with the walls, and all she needed now was furniture to complete the room.

Her fingers itched to finish the renovations and turn the building into a thriving shelter for the pets. She and Steph would work well together with the doggie day care in the back and her shelter in the front. Perfect for both.

She gave the office a sweeping gaze, pride puffing her chest, then strode into the waiting room, looking more welcoming with its copper-colored walls. She pictured families waiting, anxious to adopt a dog or sadly to give up pets they could no longer care for.