Love in a Fix (10 page)

Anne addressed her son. “Mind if I steal your wife away for a few minutes.”

“It’s up to her.” His shoulder brushed against Lyndsey’s.

“It’s fine.” Meanwhile, her stomach did somersaults. She’d hoped to have Shep beside her until she felt comfortable on her own.

“We’ll be in the kitchen if anyone needs us.” Anne looped an arm through hers.

“Is Pops in the family room?”

“Yes. Maybe you can help him. The cable went out for whatever reason this morning and he can’t get the network channels working to watch the parade.” Anne rolled her eyes, but a tender smile never left her face.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Josh tugged on her hand. “Can I go with Daddy?”

His request threw her for a loop and she sucked in a jagged breath. She was glad Josh took to Shep—that was wonderful, but hearing Josh call him “Daddy” sent bittersweet pangs through her.
Look forward. Be thankful for the here and now
. “I am.”

“What’s that?” Shep asked.

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud, and she hurried to cover her slip. “Josh can go with you if he wants.”

Anne pulled her into the kitchen, where every burner of the stove had a pot atop it and two slow cookers were plugged in to an outlet above the counter. The sweet aromas she’d noticed several minutes ago were hard to distinguish among the myriads of others scents centrally located in one room, but the odd combinations produced a pleasant, inviting atmosphere.

“No one but me is typically allowed in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, but I’d hoped to spend some time with you.” Anne flashed a grin.

“I’m honored.” She took an apron that Anne handed her. “What can I do?”

“Are you good at peeling potatoes?” After grabbing a large metal spoon from the counter, Anne stirred a pot on the stove. “Everything else is cooking or already prepared.”

“Show me the way,” Lyndsey answered, tying the apron behind her back.

Bending down, Anne pulled a five-pound bag of russet potatoes from a drawer. “We’ll do all these. There’s a paring knife in the drawer behind you. I had one of those fancy palm peelers, but wouldn’t you know it, I broke it last week.”

Lyndsey set up a station on the far side of the counter where she found an open spot. She chose a potato, peeled it, then dropped it into a pot filled with water.

An egg timer buzzed, and Anne pulled two pies from the oven. She placed them on trivets. “When Shep told me he planned to remarry, I was surprised, especially when he told us the marriage would be so soon.”

Embarrassed by what Shep had told her earlier, Lyndsey ducked her head to hide her flushed face. “I know what your first thought was. Mr. Patterson asked Shep about it yesterday.”

Anne clucked her tongue. “Forgive my husband, please. Most days, he doesn’t use the good sense God gave him.” Coming to her, Anne gave a sympathetic look. “The thought briefly crossed my mind, but was dismissed as quickly as it came.” She paused and put her hands on Lyndsey’s shoulders for a second. “When I saw the two of you together yesterday, there was no doubt in my mind you married each other for love.”

Lyndsey stood with her back stiff, unsure what to say.

It didn’t matter, since Anne continued. “Seeing Shep so happy healed this mom’s heart. Shep’s not meant to be alone—he has too much love to offer. After Miranda died, I naturally worried about him.”

“Any mother would.” She blinked away tears, remembering her own grief.

“We met at Miranda’s funeral. Do you remember?” Anne handed her another potato, seeming to sense her need to keep her hands busy.

“I do. I was pregnant with Josh and you asked if I knew the gender.” The memory was vivid in her mind though she hadn’t recalled it in ages.

“You and Mark were a handsome couple. I remember praying for both of you that night when I got home and asking God to give you a healthy baby.” Anne took a deep breath. “You’re allowed to remember Mark. He was a part of your life and gave you Josh. That can’t be forgotten.”

“I’m dedicated to this marriage.”

“I know, dear, and I wasn’t trying to say you weren’t. It’s clear you love my son.” The warmth of her hand when she patted Lyndsey’s shoulder reached her heart. “But I saw the grief in your eyes when Josh called Shep ‘Daddy’ and I wanted you to know that you don’t have to feel guilty for that.”

“Was it obvious?” She dropped the knife, worried Shep would see through her. He’d grinned from ear to ear when Josh called him “Daddy” and she’d feel horrible if her own issues took away that delight.

“Only to another woman.”

“Shep adores Josh.” Her lips parted in a smile. “I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. Josh follows him everywhere.”

“My son always wanted children. You’ve given him a tremendous gift.”

If you only knew how he rescued me.
“He’s a natural father. I’m grateful he was willing to step into that role and Josh won’t grow up without a dad.”

She resumed peeling the potatoes, hoping for a change in conversation. Tumultuous emotions struck her at every turn, and talk of Mark and Shep didn’t help.

Anne returned to the stove. “Do you work outside the home?”

“I work part time as an administrative assistant, but took off this week for the wedding and the move.” The apron strings came undone and she re-tied them. “I also worked part time at the grocery, but just decided to quit so I’d have more time at home.”

“Do you enjoy your job?”

“Most of the time, but they’ve cut hours and still expect us to maintain the same workload. It can be stressful, but I enjoy the mental challenge.”

“Before the boys were born, I was a secretary. I stayed on for a few years once I had children, but quit. However, I didn’t like my job and that makes a big difference, don’t you think?” Anne waited until Lyndsey nodded in agreement before going to the china hutch in the adjoining room. She withdrew five place settings and numerous serving bowls.

Lyndsey went and helped her to carry them to the kitchen. “What else can I do?”

“Everything is settled for now, until closer to eating time.” She threw a subtle wink. “I bet someone in the other room misses you, and I don’t mean Josh.”

An unstoppable smile spread on Lyndsey’s mouth. Despite all of her swirling thoughts and emotions, one stood above all else—she wanted to spend time with her husband.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Lyndsey strolled along the sidewalk near Shep’s home after church on Sunday.

Josh, abounding with energy, skipped ahead of them. The frigid day wouldn’t allow for a long walk, but enough for Josh to burn off the liveliness he’d stored while sitting in church.

“Much better than I’d expected.” Walking closely beside her, he held her gloved hand. “I didn’t hear any unnecessary remarks, did you?”

She shook her head. “All the congratulations I received were heartfelt.”

“Same here.”

“Granted, Pastor Dean announced it last week not realizing we weren’t there, so everyone had a week to get their gossip out.” Lyndsey quirked a corner of her mouth.

“For whatever reason, I’m glad you weren’t subjected to any nasty rumors or comments.” He didn’t care for himself, but Lyndsey would have been more affected by them.

They walked another quarter of a mile before turning around and going home. Shep glanced at Lyndsey, drawn to her red cheeks and nose, which were colored by the cold. Her lips gave new meaning to pretty in pink.
She needs a kiss to warm her.
He unlocked the door and, once Josh ran into the house, spun Lyndsey in his arms. Unable to resist, he dropped a kiss on her cold lips until he felt them warm.

When they broke away. Lyndsey smiled. The color on her cheeks darkened, and a giddiness crept into her voice. “What was that for?”

“Just because.” Emboldened by Lyndsey’s positive reaction, he grinned. “Can’t a man surprise his wife with a kiss?”

Lyndsey responded by throwing him a wink then dashing into the house.

Instead of joining her, he stayed outside for another minute, His male ego basked in satisfaction. He’d learned that when Lyndsey didn’t know what to say, she found a way to escape.

Which meant his kiss had left her speechless in a good way.

They’d only been married a week and a half, but he was determined to court her and win her favor. Do all the things most couples did before marriage.

If his instinct was right, he was well on his way. Regardless, he wouldn’t take Lyndsey for granted. He knew from the deepest part of his heart, that Lyndsey and he were exactly where God wanted them to be. He harbored no doubt they’d have a full life together, complete with the large family both of them desired. Even love was part of their future.

Yes, he wholeheartedly believed that one day, Lyndsey and he would fall in love. Six weeks ago, he would have laughed at the notion of ever loving again. That or sprint in the opposite direction. But that was then. Now he thought he might be halfway there.

He loved Lyndsey’s strength in the face of trials—that she buried her fragility in order to persevere. Her will to move on without bitterness inspired him. She was a natural mother, always thinking of Josh and what was best for him. Even her independent streak was endearing, but he also loved that she relaxed her hold on that and allowed him to perform small acts of kindness for her now without protest.

Eager to be near her again, he went inside. He’d missed her and Josh yesterday while he worked. Fortunately, he’d had a light load and was home by two.

In the kitchen, Lyndsey held the phone to her ear, making a prearranged phone call.

“Should we tell him now?” Shep asked when she ended the conversation on her cell.

“Yes.” She took a few steps to reach the staircase and called upstairs. “Come to the kitchen, Josh. We have a surprise for you.”

Small feet sped down the steps. “What is it?”

“Take a guess.” Catching Lyndsey’s eye, Shep grinned.

“You got me a puppy?” His eyes brightened with hope.

“Not quite.” Lyndsey ruffled Josh’s hair. “No animals yet.”

“Can I have a hint?” Josh’s gaze shifted over the entire room, as though that would help him uncover the secret.

“Hmm. What do you think Shep?” Lyndsey gave him a sideways smile. “Should we?”

“Yes, yes,” Josh chimed.

“It involves your favorite food,” Shep said. Last night when he’d discussed this afternoon’s plan with Lyndsey, he’d asked what Josh would choose to eat if given his choice, and she’d told him pizza.

“Are we having pizza for lunch?” Josh’s head bobbed forward.

“Not just any pizza, but one from Geno’s.” Shep’s mouth watered. Geno’s—hands down—had the best pizza in Calding County.

“Yahoo.” Small fists pumped into the air. “That’s my favorite.”

“After lunch, we’ll decorate the house for Christmas and once it’s dark, we’ll drive to the park and walk through all the lights there.” Lyndsey pointed a finger. “But only if you behave.”

“I will.” Making an “X” over his chest, he said, “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Joshua Allen, you don’t say things like that. Where did you hear such a thing?” Lyndsey propped a hand on her hip—it was one of the rare times Shep witnessed her scolding him.

“At preschool.” His bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t know I wasn’t s’posed to say it.”

“Okay, but don’t say it again.” Lyndsey relaxed her stance.

“Do I still get to see the lights tonight?” A small tear fell down his innocent face.

“Of course.” She pulled him into a hug. “Mommy’s sorry for snapping at you because you didn’t know better, but I don’t want to hear you say anything like that again.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Shep retrieved a twenty from his wallet and gave it to Lyndsey. “I have another box of decorations in the attic to bring down. Here’s money for the pizza if it comes while I’m still up there.”

“Thanks.” Lyndsey laid it on the counter and glanced down at her white sweater. “I’m going to change real quick. With my luck, a glob of sauce will slide right off my slice and onto my clothes.”

“Can I go to the attic with you, Daddy?”

“Not this time, buddy. I don’t trust those old steps and wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Josh’s mouth started to turn down in a pout, but he must have had second thoughts. “Okay.”

Lyndsey walked with Shep to the home’s second floor. “Be careful coming down with the box.”

“I’ve done it plenty of times.” He saw her worried look. “Don’t worry, I know which rungs are weak and where to step.”

“If you need me, stomp. I’ll be downstairs again in a minute, and won’t be able to hear if you call out.”

Her instructions made him laugh. “Alright.”

Shep strode to the hallway’s end and stood on his tiptoes to reach the string which hung from the ceiling. Gave it a firm pull to bring down the steps.

Once in the attic, he walked to the rear corner, searching for the final box. He’d avoided it at all costs until they’d discovered Lyndsey’s star had broken in the move. Rather than open the box for the angel, he’d considered buying a new tree topper. He’d grappled with it for a few days, but finally chose to face the past.

Without looking, he knew at the top of the box, wrapped carefully for protection, lay a musical snow globe. Inside the snow globe was a Santa figurine kneeling at the manger of baby Jesus. He’d bought it for Miranda their first Christmas as a married couple, when they discussed whether they would carry on the Santa tradition with their children that never came. They’d been at a standstill until she saw the snow globe in a store, and she’d fallen in love with it. Taking it out first every year after that had become a tradition.

He hadn’t touched it since the Christmas after she passed when he packed everything away. In the following years, he’d put out a few decorations, but never anything from this box. The reminder hurt too much.

This year was different. He had a family again, and a son with whom he wanted to share the snow globe, and teach him about Christ’s birth in a stable. He’d get to see the excitement in Josh’s eyes on Christmas morning when he came downstairs and saw the presents under the tree.

Closing his eyes, Shep took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

He opened his eyes and dusted the box’s top with his palm. He lifted the flaps and stared at the small box with the protected snow globe inside. His heart rate picked up speed, but he ignored it and carefully removed the snow globe from its layers of covering.

Exactly as he remembered it. He ran a hand over the smooth glass then turned it upside down and spun the music mechanism. When he released it the strains of “Away in a Manger” filled the attic space. The lyrics of the song danced on his lips as he sang quietly to the tinny music. After the music stopped, he set the novelty beside him.

“Look through the box,” a silent voice prompted him.

Following his conscience, he dug through the box. One by one he removed items, stopping to recall fond memories of each. At the bottom was a wrapped present, approximately six inches by nine inches.

A gasp took the last breath in his lungs and his heart stopped for a moment. Miranda’s final gift to him. The doctors never expected her to make it until Christmas that year—they hadn’t even believed she’d make it until summer—so they’d set up Christmas early when it became apparent she was substantially weakening every day. When she left this world in late September, he hadn’t had the strength to open the gift and blocked it from his memory all these years.

The metallic taste of blood tipped his tongue and he realized he’d bit hard on his bottom lip. Over and over he turned it in his hands, like a hot coal he couldn’t bring himself to set down.

Setting it on the floor, he took deep breaths. He slid a finger under the first layer of paper. Tore the tape, peeled away the wrapping. Again, and again, until no gift wrap remained on the box.

He touched it with a single finger, afraid the contact would unleash the emotions he barely held in check. A lump lodged in his throat, and he tried to swallow it to no avail. Another deep breath. Bracing himself, he looked down at the gift.

An hourglass.

An hourglass?

His fingers curled over the edge of the box, and he lifted it, examined it from all sides. A folded piece of paper had been taped to the other side, his name written on the outside.

A final note from Miranda.

He blinked furiously. It couldn’t be.

He removed the paper and unfolded it.

My Dearest Shep,

For Christmas this year, I struggled with what to buy you. Chances are, I’ll be in Heaven by then, but that’s all the more reason to leave you with a final gift to remember me by.

Our time on earth is so short, isn’t it? But the beautiful thing about time for people like us who have accepted Christ, is that time never stops. My time in this life will soon run out, but then I’ll begin again in a place where time is eternal. My hourglass in Heaven will never run out.

My only sadness in dying is that you’ll be left behind. It won’t be forever and one day we will meet again, but until then, know that I love you and cherish every second together that God has given us.

When I have to leave this world, don’t let your hourglass of joy be destroyed. When you feel like you have nothing left to give, that all your joy has sunk to the bottom, flip your hourglass and start over. No matter how empty you feel, the joy will be there, my love, waiting for you to take it.

Grieve, but rejoice for the love that we shared. Cry, but sing praises to the one who allowed us these wonderful years together.

I love you,

Miranda

P.S. Read the inscription.

He swallowed again, wiping away unbidden tears.

“Shep, are you okay?”

The voice startled him. He hadn’t heard Lyndsey enter the attic nor had he noticed her approach. “Yeah.”

“You’ve been up here for forty-five minutes. I was getting worried.” She sat cross-legged beside him.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time. Did you eat yet?” He kept his face away from her, not wanting her to see his heartache.

“No. In the two minutes it took me to change, Josh curled up on the sofa and fell asleep.” She tapped his cheek, prodding him to look at her. “What’s going on?”

He rubbed his temples then handed her the hourglass box. “I found this, Miranda’s final present for me. After she died, I couldn’t open it and forgot about it until now.”

“I remember this.” She let out a low whistle. “She asked me if it was a dumb gift, and I told her it was lovely.”

“She left a note with it.” He held up the paper. “Would you like to read it?”

Her hands went up to refuse. “I couldn’t. That’s personal for you.”

“I’d like for you to read it.”

“Okay.” She took the paper and by the time she read through it, tears poured down her face. “Oh Shep, that’s beautiful.”

They found themselves in each other’s arms—comforting, supporting and grieving together for a person they’d both loved in different forms.

Lyndsey’s head rested against his shoulder. “What does the inscription say? She never told me that part.”

“I haven’t looked yet.”

“Now would be a good time.”

He chuckled softly, feeling lighter. No one compared to Lyndsey. She’d walked in on him shedding tears for his late wife, and instead of jealousy or disgust, she’d joined him then wanted to know more.