Tender Vow (16 page)

“Your mom told me. I was sorry to hear it. Are you—all right with it?” She finished situating the plate and stood up straight, allowing herself a glimpse of him. He slanted his face and arched one thick brow, his cocoa eyes catching her gaze and holding it captive. After a moment, his lips curved into a furtive grin and he cut loose a slight sigh. “Actually, yeah, I’m good.” A nod followed. “Really good.”

Just then, Meagan bounded into the kitchen. “Uncle Jay! I just had a really, really, really good idea!”

Her towheaded child wrapped her arms around his middle and planted her feet on top of his shoes, balancing like a ballerina. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down, grinning. “You do? And just what is this brilliant scheme of yours?”

Her luminous, blue eyes gazed up and twinkled with purpose. “That you can come over to my house after a while and watch
Cinderella
!”

Of course, Rachel had tried coming up with a number of reasons why watching
Cinderella
that night wouldn’t work. First try: “Uncle Jay probably needs to get up early for work tomorrow.”
Wrong
, he’d told her. He’d given his crew the weekend off. Next attempt: Meaggie had to get to bed at a decent time.
Fine
. They could make that happen as long as they started the movie before six o’clock. Third try: Uncle Jay would probably get bored.
Another negative
. How could spending time with his adorable niece possibly be boring?

With all of her arguments defeated, Rachel had relented.

Now, hours later, they were seated on the sofa at Rachel’s, Johnny snoring in her arms, a light blanket thrown over his pudgy body, Meagan tucked between Rachel and him, dressed in pajamas, fully intent on the animated movie. Out the corner of one eye, Jason glimpsed Rachel—couldn’t help himself—and warmed at the notion that they resembled a little family. But then, he reminded himself of the utter foolishness of such musings. Rachel was his sister-in-law, and he would do best to keep that fact straight in his head—and his heart.

While the ugly stepsisters ranted their evil taunts at Cinderella, Jason stared blankly at the widescreen TV above the fireplace, his mind reliving the day’s events—watching football with the men after dessert while the women played Scrabble in the dining room and Meagan bounced from one end of the house to the other, Johnny squealing with delight at his ability to pull himself up and stand on his own, snagging the attention of his grandfathers between football plays. Jason had kept one eye on the next room, where Rachel had been seated at the card table with her back to him, and the other eye on the “big game.”

Any other time, he would have been enthralled to watch the rival teams compete, but thoughts of John had been so close to the surface, and last Thanksgiving felt like yesterday. He’d noticed the lack of any mention of John during dinner and figured the others either didn’t want to deal with the pain or hoped not to upset Rachel. Frankly, he’d been just as happy to let the subject rest. He could only imagine his dad’s accusing eyes shooting arrows at him. No, it was best left alone.

Rachel had begun her leave-taking around five o’clock, and Meagan had spoken on Jason’s behalf, announcing that he was coming home with them to watch
Cinderella
. The women and Mitch had been unfazed by the news, even enthusiastic, but his dad’s face had frozen in a blank stare.

“That’s wonderful,” Arlene had said.

“Yes, enjoy the movie,” his mom had chimed in.

“You see to it he stays awake, Meaggie,” Mitch had added, touching Meagan’s nose and grinning up at Jason.

“He will!” Meagan had giggled, hugging Jason’s leg like she would a porch post. “’Cause he never saw it before.”

After putting on his coat, helping Johnny and Meagan into theirs, and rounding up the diaper bag and Rachel’s salad bowl, Jason had scooped Meagan into his arms and gone to hug his mom good-bye with a promise to call her soon. She’d tugged them close and kissed Meagan on the cheek. “You have a nice time at Rachel’s tonight,” she’d whispered in his ear. “It’ll be good for you two to spend some time relaxing. Maybe you can even talk about…you know.”

“John?” he’d returned in a hushed tone. She couldn’t even say his name. “Maybe.” He’d glanced past her at his dad, who hadn’t budged from his place in the arched entryway to the family room, where he’d stood with his arms crossed stiffly. “See you, Dad.”

He’d given a straight-lipped nod, one that had made his jaw muscle flick. Then, as if it had required all his effort to move, he’d stepped forward and extended a hand. “Well, we’ll see you next time, then,” had been his curt words.

Fine way to send me off
, Jason had thought.
Lord, what did I do to make him resent me so?

Later, while Rachel and Meagan had been making popcorn in the kitchen before the movie, Jason had overheard a quiet discussion between mother and daughter. “Do you like Uncle Jay?”

“Of course, I do. He’s my brother-in-law.”

“What’s a bruvver-in-law?”

“It’s the brother of one’s spouse—er, husband. He is your daddy’s brother, which makes him my brother-in-law.”

“You don’t got a h-hubsband,” Meagan had said, stumbling over the word. “Daddy’s in heaven.”

“That’s true. But Uncle Jay is still my brother-in-law; he always will be.”

“I wish he could live with us.”

“What? Meaggie, where do you come up with these ideas?”

He’d grinned to himself and quietly stepped away from the door unnoticed, tempted to hear how the conversation played out yet not wanting to embarrass Rachel with his eavesdropping. He’d wanted to get a drink of water but decided it could wait, so he’d gone back to making minor repairs around the house—oiling a squeaky door hinge, checking the furnace filter, and replacing a lightbulb on the front porch, whistling while he worked. Puttering had always been one of his loves, so finding a few things to do while Rachel worked in the kitchen had provided him a great deal of satisfaction. And, as he’d tinkered, he’d made an interesting observation: the house looked thoroughly clean and organized. It would seem Rachel Evans had turned a corner on her grief.

When the movie ended and the closing credits began, Meagan’s mouth went as round as the moon as she yawned. “Well…?” she asked sleepily. “Did you like it?”

Jason brought his chin to the top of her head and met Rachel’s gaze. In her arms, Johnny slept, unmoving. “It was the best movie I’ve ever seen,” he said, kissing Meagan’s downy head without taking his eyes off Rachel. He gave her a lazy smile, and she returned only a trace of one, then slid forward on the couch.

“Well, it’s bedtime, kiddo,” she said in a near whisper, “and your uncle has a long drive home.”

“Aww, why can’t he stay?” Meagan whined.

Jason noticed a blush forming on her cheeks. “Because…he can’t.” She stood up, cradling Johnny in one arm, and held out the other for Meagan to take her hand. But the girl remained glued to Jason’s side. Rachel frowned and heaved a sigh of frustration. “Give your uncle a night-night hug.”

“I want Uncle Jay to tuck me in.”

Without hesitation, he rose, his knees cracking in the process, and extended his arms. “Come on, little Cinderella. Time for beddy-bye.”

Ten minutes later, with the kids tucked in, Jason slumped into the plush sofa again, this time extending his arms over the back and propping sock-clad feet on the coffee table.

Rachel stood there, shoulders squared, looking resolute. “Jay, it’s about time you went home.”

“I thought we’d talk. You don’t mind, do you?”

She swallowed hard and put her hands on her hips. “Yes.”

He laughed. “Oh, come on. Sit.” He patted the spot beside him. “I promise not to bite.”

A tremor touched her pretty lips. “I’m not one bit worried that you will.”

“Good, then it shouldn’t hurt for you to sit for a few minutes. Take a load off.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for the last hour and a half?”

“Yeah, with a talkative four-year old who felt it her duty to inform me of every upcoming scene.”

Now she succumbed to a smile. “She’s only seen that movie about ninety-seven times.”

“I figured.” On impulse, he reached up and snagged her by the wrist, easily pulling her down next to him.

“Jason!”

“Relax, would you? Let’s have a brother-sister talk—with no mention of the you-know-what.”

And that’s exactly what they did for at least the next hour, he telling her about his church, job, friends, and the grief group he attended, she talking about her church, the one he’d attended growing up, and her own group of friends, one named Allie in particular, and her goofy story about some comedy of errors at a bank drive-up window. They laughed a lot, and Rachel relaxed to the point of curling her legs up under her body and reclining against the back of the sofa with a knitted blanket over her lap.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “Just sitting here talking, laughing, not caring if there’s a lull.”

“Yeah,” she confessed.

He clasped his hands at his belt buckle and angled his head at her. “See? No biting.”

“You’re silly.”

Another chuckle passed between them, but then a melancholy frown flitted across her features. “It’s been a whole year, Jay”—her voice went soft as a kitten’s—“and yet it feels like yesterday.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing all day.”
Lord, I’m glad she mentioned it.

“How could an entire year have slipped by already? We’ll soon be celebrating John Jr.’s first birthday.”

“I’m coming to his party, invited or not.”

This time, she tilted her head at him and revealed a tiny grin. “There’ll be no party crashing. You’ll get an invitation.”

Another reflective, sixty-second lull passed. “Does it feel like things are getting better for you—I mean, less painful?”

She considered his question with creased brow and narrowed eyes, opening her mouth, then closing it again. She reached up and scratched her forehead, disturbing a lovely little blonde lock. He took the opportunity to check out her perfect nose and lips while he was at it. “Little by little, I suppose,” she finally said. “Some days, I’m downright good, but then I feel almost guilty for it, like I should be spending every minute grieving, and if I quit, then I’m not honoring his memory like I should be.”

“That’s not the way John would want you to feel.”

“I know.”

“Those are natural feelings you’re having. It becomes a journey of two steps forward, one step back, rather than three steps back and one forward. God’s mercies are new every morning. He gives us just what we need for each day.”

“I’m finding that to be true.” She kept her gaze trained on him, her face only a foot or so from his. “You sure got smart over this last year.” This she said with a hint of playful sarcasm, but then her expression turned thoughtful. “And dedicated—and unswerving in your faith. It’s quite remarkable to watch, especially when I consider what a hellion you were in high school and college.”

“Loss will do that to a person—bring him to his knees or have him shaking his fist at God.” He harrumphed. “I preferred the former, you know? Looking back, I’m sure I gave my parents some giant headaches. ‘Star Football Player Goes on Drunken Binge, Destroys Mailboxes on Johnson Avenue.’ ’Member that newspaper headline? To this day, I don’t know how I kept my spot on the team. I should have gotten more than a two-week suspension from school. ’Course, I got myself into some, um…situations in college, too, but those are better left unmentioned. All I’ll say is this”—he cleared his throat and let out a light chuckle—“God’s grace and mercy extend far beyond our worthiness.”

“Beautifully said.”

He took a deep, hard swallow. “I don’t think John ever gave our dad a second of grief. I’d have given anything to be more like him, but he was a hard one to compete against. I never measured up to him.”

With gaping mouth, Rachel stared at him, back straight and shoulders taut. “Are you kidding? John always looked up to you, even though you were younger. He admired you for your grit and carefree spirit. He used to say, ‘My brother is a pain in the hind end right now, but you watch; he’ll get his act together one day and be the most passionate of all of us about his faith.’ I’m the one who used to say, ‘Yeah, right, that’ll be the day that pigs fly.’” She gave him a playful pat on the arm. “No, I’m just kidding.”

He gave a short-lived grin. “Thanks. I think.”

She settled back again, their shoulders barely touching as they stared at the ceiling. “Your dad’s proud of you, Jay; he just doesn’t do a good job of showing it. He never gets very emotional, you know.”

“No? I see emotions in him all the time, and they’re called anger and disappointment. John got all the grades and the honors, even landed the suit-’n-tie job.”

“You were the star athlete,” she quickly countered. “And you own a very successful construction company.”

“He was class president for four years—levelheaded, intelligent, and highly respected. Shoot, he went all the way to state with the college debate team. He could’ve run for president today and been elected.”

“You were popular and got all the attention, especially from the girls.”

“Ha! But he landed the one girl that really mattered, didn’t he?” He bumped against her playfully. In one fluid move, she slid out of reach and glanced at her watch. He might have stepped over the line with that one.

“I should probably go, huh?” Hesitating for all of three seconds, he put his hands on his knees with purpose, intending to stand. But then, something impelled him to give her one last thorough look. If she hadn’t returned it, he might have ignored the urge to kiss her, stupid and impractical and poorly timed as it was, but he couldn’t resist, and so he decided to go for it—that old, carefree spirit John had envied rearing its monstrous head.

In jagged stops and starts, he lowered his face to be level with hers, pausing just shy of her lips, thinking and then not thinking, waiting for her to come to her senses by ducking away from him, knowing that if she didn’t, it’d be too late for both of them. Ever so slowly, he tipped her chin upward, finding it most hard to ignore the thudding of his chest.
Lord, God, help me; keep me from doing this.
But if he thought the Lord was about to burst through the front door and throw him to the floor, he was an idiot through and through.