Love in a Fix (9 page)

Early morning sun rays filtered through the sheer curtains hung above the kitchen’s farmhouse sink. Forgoing her usual morning coffee, Lyndsey sat on a barstool at the counter and sipped from a cup of hot lemon ginger tea.

The moon was still suspended from a black sky when she’d woken up two hours ago, but she’d lain in bed, listening to Shep sleep. His rhythmic breathing calmed her like the gentle waves lapping against the eastern shore. Even his occasional snore didn’t bother her. It was a reminder that someone else was there, that she wasn’t alone anymore.

She’d never imagined experiencing peaceful mornings again. Each one since Mark’s death had been a cold reminder of his absence. Would this morning have been the same if she’d married anyone else but Shep?

“No.” The answer, clear as freshly cleaned glass, jumped off her tongue.

Shep was an extraordinary man, a good friend and more. She knew that she gained far more from this marriage than he did, but he’d never made her feel that way. More importantly, if she hadn’t cared for him, she never would have agreed to the marriage, no matter what the alternative.

There had been a few other extreme alternatives, which she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. The most feasible, but still impractical because she’d have to have found a new job, would have been lowering her pride and moving in with her in-laws. As terrible as that idea sounded, it was still better than marrying a man she couldn’t abide and being attached to him for life.

She couldn’t define her and Shep’s relationship beyond the legal surface of husband and wife. It wasn’t love, not in the all-consuming way she’d loved Mark, but she loved Shep as a friend and didn’t deny a chemistry existed between them. What she felt for him grew and changed every day—had been for weeks, even months if she really stopped to examine the feelings.

Somewhere between living daily life and being a single mom, she hadn’t realized Shep’s integration into her life and how she’d come to count on him. How he was the one she gravitated to at church functions, long before he’d stepped in to help with her oven.

Since Mark’s death, Shep had been the pillar she hadn’t known supported her. The revelation rocked her, ruining her illusion of complete independence. In that awareness, came another epiphany—once she’d released that pride and autonomy to which she’d clung so tightly, she found a new freedom. A serendipitous one which allowed her to live with joy again, to see the light at the end of a two-year-long dark tunnel.

She tilted her mug, drank the last sip of tea. The digital clock on the microwave switched to 6:30. Reaching for her phone, she started to dial Shep’s parents, who’d volunteered to keep Josh overnight. Rather than invite an embarrassing conversation that revealed the nature of her and Shep’s physical relationship, or lack thereof, she’d agreed to their request. 

Letting Josh stay for the night with a couple she didn’t know personally proved easier than she’d anticipated because she trusted Shep’s judgment. Before Shep’s proposal last week, she’d given little thought to Josh having a father in his life again, and what that would mean. However, the transition so far, albeit a few days’ worth, had gone well.

The entire marriage business had proceeded so smoothly, she couldn’t help but wonder when the ax would fall. Life had trained her to think negatively instead of optimistically, something she continually worked to change.
Help me, Lord, to be positive in my thoughts and trust in you.
She closed her eyes, calling verses to mind to ward off the fear. Her favorite from Jeremiah took center stage. “
For I know the plans I have for you,” declared the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.”

Footsteps sounded behind her. Turning her head, she opened her eyes and saw Shep entering the kitchen.

Hope and a future.

She gave him a smile and dropped her phone on the counter, reminding herself that her new in-laws would call if anything was wrong. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” His greeting was drawn out, his voice still sleepy.

She wouldn’t have guessed he wasn’t a morning person, but found the fact endearing. Especially when he stood there like a lost puppy with tousled hair, wearing a T-shirt and sweats. He padded toward the counter and in robotic motions, started a pot of coffee. 

While the coffee brewed, Lyndsey watched him, observed him in his morning routine. It was part of what she loved about living with someone. In all the ugly, messy arguments that would surely come as they adjusted to life together, there was beauty in finding out the intimate details that made someone tick.

A few months ago, she’d read a quote, something to the tune of not measuring life by the breaths taken, but the moments that take your breath away. She hadn’t agreed then, and she didn’t agree now. Life was mostly lived in those small moments that filled the gaps between breathtaking ones. It was the sum of those times—the bonds formed, trust earned, lessons learned—that made the big moments worthy of breathlessness.

What was a vacation without the hard work to earn it? Reaching the summit of a mountain peak and ignoring the beauty of the climb? What was a marriage, without all the relationship building leading to it?

Even with Shep and their swift courtship, they’d been building a relationship of sorts, she just hadn’t realized it until now. Reflecting on the last two years, there were countless small moments between them, all of which led to this moment, where they’d work together for the next breathless moment in their lives. She didn’t know what it would be, but the excitement of getting there was half the fun.

“How’d you sleep?” She stood from the stool and carried her cup to the sink.

“Good.” His eyes never left the coffee pot, and he held a cup with a death grip.

She giggled.

The noise drew him from his trance-like state and a confused expression took over. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” More laugher erupted.

“Me?” He scrunched his face, peered at his reflection in the stainless steel toaster. Ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I am a mess.”

“Just a little.” She bit her lip, and her cheeks hurt from trying to stop the chuckles.

“Mornings and I don’t get along.” He brushed a hand over his wrinkled shirt, frowning. “I’m sorry. Not a very romantic start to our marriage.”

Sobering up, she circled his wrist with her fingers and laid her hand on his. “Maybe not, but it’s real, and we didn’t enter this for romance.”

A cloud of darkness filtered his eyes for a split-second. “Right.” He removed his hand and dusted her forehead with a quick kiss before pouring a cup of coffee. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too.” She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and held it up to the filtered water dispenser on the fridge door. “Dinner at your parents’ is at noon, correct?”

“Yes, but we should get there around eleven.” His eyes smiled when he drank his first sip of coffee. “If you want to go earlier to see Josh, that’s fine, too.”

Her heart itched to see her son, but she didn’t want to slight Shep. “We can spend the morning here. Eleven is early enough.”

Shep laughed. “Your face is an open book.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she watched his eyes dance as caffeine jolted him from the remainder of sleepiness. “He’s been separated from me more than usual lately.”

“Give me an hour and we’ll head over.” The remainder of his coffee disappeared in one gulp. “I guarantee Mom’s already been awake for hours.”

“Thank you.”

He winked. “Anything to please my wife.”

***

“Will Risa and Jack be there?” Lyndsey stared out the window, wondering which house belonged to Shep’s parents.

“No, they’re spending Thanksgiving with her parents this year.” He steered the truck into the driveway of a tan and white split-level. “Just the three of us, Mom, and Dad.”

Her heart grew a notch when he included Josh in
us
. “Small is good, gives me a chance to ease into introductions and questions.”

“Dad is the worst of it, trust me, and I fended him off before he could embarrass you yesterday.” Shep grinned. “Jack and Risa are much more tactful. You’ll like Risa.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What did your dad do?”

Blanching, Shep switched off the ignition. “You don’t want to know.”

“Except now you have me wondering.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Shep rubbed his jaw.

“That bad?”

“No, but keep in mind, my father has a good heart, but he doesn’t always understand that some things shouldn’t be said.”

Anxiety set in that she’d already offended her new father-in-law, and she rubbed her fingers together. “Tell me, please.”

A loud sigh echoed in the truck cab. “He questioned our motives for marriage.”

Heat covered every inch of her face once Shep elaborated. Her eyes widened, and a hand flew to her mouth as a thought struck her. “That’s what everyone will think, including people at church.”

“No they won’t.” Shep unbuckled and leaned toward her, placing a comforting hand on hers. “I set Pops straight then told him we didn’t want to waste time apart that we could be spending together. Considering our pasts, it’s completely plausible.”

“I guess.” Her voice wavered, giving away her uncertainty.

“We know the truth, no matter that anyone thinks. If anyone dares to say anything, I’ll set them straight.”

A knot formed in her stomach and travelled upward, gaining momentum until it exploded in a frustrated groan. “How can I face your parents, knowing what they think?”

“They don’t anymore.” His mouth tightened, and he pinched his lips for a second before speaking again. “I’m really sorry I said anything.”

Why hadn’t they seen it coming? They’d even discussed gossip. They should have waited, dated a few months—weeks at minimum.
Do not worry about tomorrow.
Inhaling a calming breath, she took the recalled words to heart. She’d prayed about a marriage to Shep, and God had given her an answer. That was all that mattered, not imaginary gossip that may or may not happen.

How many times had she been up and down today? This week. This year. She suspected the emotional roller coaster wasn’t over yet, but she looked down at Shep’s hand covering hers and knew he wouldn’t leave her side.

“And I’m sorry for overreacting.” Her self-deprecating laugh sounded hollow.

“It’s all a matter of adjusting,” he responded in his usual even manner.

Did anything set him off? She wished she possessed his nerves of steel. “Do I look okay? I should have made a dish to contribute.”

“Mom wouldn’t hear of it. Thanksgiving is her thing, and cooking the dinner is her way of showing love.” His eyes travelled over her in the seat, from her head to brown sweater with subtle gold threads woven into the fabric, to her fitted jeans and brown boots with a two inch heel, and he gave an intoxicating, appreciative grin. “You look great.”

The tingly sensations that came every time he complimented her raised goose bumps on her arms. “If I hadn’t seen you this morning, I might think you were too perfect.”

Shep’s smile twisted. “Far from it, but if my new bride wants to think so, who am I to argue?”

“Hmm. Remember I said ‘if I hadn’t seen you this morning.’” She nudged him and winked. “Can’t have my new husband getting a big head on the second day of marriage.”

The playful banter erased the edge on which she’d teetered. She and Shep still had a lot to work out before they entered a comfortable stage of marriage, but they would enjoy the time getting there.

Letting go of her, Shep sat upright then opened the door. He hopped out, circled around and let her out. Their hands found each other, winding, and they walked to the house, the picture of happily married newlyweds.

There wasn’t a doorbell that Lyndsey saw. Shep gave the door three sharp raps then exchanged a smile with her while they waited.

His mom opened the door and Josh came running, slipped under her arm and threw his arms around Lyndsey. “Mommy!”

She released Shep to embrace Josh. “I missed you, buddy. Did you have fun?”

“Whole lots! Grammy, that’s what my new grandmother said to call her, let me help her make the pies and stuffing.” His hands flew as he talked, forcing a break in the hug.

“I’ll have to try them. I bet they’re the most delicious foods on the table.” The distinct smell of cinnamon and cloves stood above the savory scents. Her stomach rumbled.

“Come in out of the cold.” Shep’s mom stepped back, allowing them entry.

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson. Happy Thanksgiving.” Lyndsey took a step inside.

Mrs. Patterson caught her in an embrace as she walked through the door. “You too, dear, and please, call me Mom, or Anne if you prefer. Anything but Mrs. Patterson.”

“Alright, Mom.” She tested out the title and caught Shep’s approving smile from a sideways glance. 

Years, decades even, had passed since she’d called someone “Mom.” She called Mark’s mother a more formal “Mom Allen,” and even that was too casual for their strained relationship. However, the connection with Shep’s mother already felt different. Anne welcomed her with open arms, whereas Portia had always kept a distance. After yesterday’s conversation, maybe that would change, but it was a shame it had to happen after Mark’s death and once she’d remarried.