Tender Vow (4 page)

His dad’s chin quivered. “There was something different about that night, though, wasn’t there?” he said in a shaky tone.

Jason had no idea what his dad was insinuating, so he shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation.” He moved around the table and bent to kiss his mom’s cheek. It was wet, and he hated himself for making it so. “Thanks for the birthday dinner, Mom. It was great.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you, Mom. Dad.”

Like a poker stick, Tom Evans sat, refusing even to say good-bye.

-

Rachel felt relieved—she’d finally succeeded in getting both kids down for their naps. After church, she’d fed them, read to Meagan with Johnny on her lap, and later set Meagan up in her room with her dolls and some favorite toys so she could accomplish a few jobs around the house, albeit with Johnny on her hip and Meagan calling frequently for her attention. “Mommy, this broke.” “Mommy, I can’t do this.” “Mommy, come see!” With every appeal, her voice grew crankier, and Rachel’s patience grew shorter. By the time both children had been tucked in, she felt jittery and crabby.

Lord, I need strength to do this job—divine strength.

Rest. The word rang like a crystal bell.

“I can’t rest,” she murmured. The living room lay in shambles, with toys scattered across the floor, several pairs of sandals and shoes stacked up at the door, clothes draped over the sofa, and children’s books tossed about. In the sink, a week’s worth of soiled dishes were waiting to be washed, but first she had to find the time to put away the clean ones.

Rest? She barely knew the meaning of the word. Yet, her mind and body ached from exhaustion.

With the strength of a jellyfish, she pushed a couple of dolls off the sofa and fell into its cloudlike softness. She would close her eyes for five minutes. That’s all she needed—just five uninterrupted minutes.

***

He knew she was home because she’d parked her minivan outside the garage. The garage door was open, and anyone driving past could have seen that the space needed a good cleaning. Rachel probably had no idea what to do with half of John’s stuff. In fact, it looked like pretty much everything Rachel owned was stored in that two-car space. It irked him when people did that—used their garages for something other than their cars. He pulled up behind her van and cut the engine, allowing his arms to sag over the steering wheel while he gazed about.

The property had fallen into disrepair with its untrimmed bushes, weedy flower garden, and long, spindly grass. John had been a regular neat freak, especially when it came to his lawn. He’d be rolling over in his grave about now if he saw the condition of his yard. Of the two brothers, he’d been the meticulous one, spending the better share of his growing-up years teaching Jason how to hang up his clothes and make his bed. Now, his very house showed signs of neglect. Why hadn’t Rachel hired someone to do the work? Jason knew she’d received a hefty insurance settlement, one that allowed her to pay off her debts and stay home with the kids, at least for a couple of years. Moreover, why hadn’t either set of parents stepped in to help? But, then, he recalled Arlene’s comment about Rachel wanting to make do on her own. A sort of morose spirit rose up in him. What had become of Rachel? Whatever kind of desperate state she’d fallen into, he determined in that moment to drag her out of it. He shoved his keys in his pocket and climbed out.

“God, give me wisdom,” he prayed on his way up the walk.

***

Some kind of ringing hauled Rachel out of her somnolent state. The alarm clock? She reached out to shut it off, but her hand fell into space. Opening her eyes, she tried to get her bearings, giving her head a little shake to get the fuzzies out, then recognizing the sound as the doorbell. For heaven’s sake! Someone had come to visit her? She glanced about her messy house, then looked at the clock, which registered 3:15. Were the kids still asleep? Running her fingers through her blonde, shoulder-length hair, she straightened her wrinkled shorts and spaghetti-stained shirtfront and shuffled to the door, kicking the rumpled area rug out of the way in order to open it. Half expecting to greet her mom and dad, she stood in frozen shock when she locked eyeballs with Jason Evans, instead.

“Rachel,” he said, stepping past her without invitation and making fast work of surveying the cluttered living room.

“Jason.” He turned to look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Meagan and John Jr. and to ask why half of your house is stored in the garage.”

“They’re sleeping, and the garage is none of your business.” She still held the doorknob, squeezed it, actually, until she remembered her spaghetti stains. She released the knob and quickly hugged herself, hoping to cover them.

“It is my business, my dear sister-in-law. John would want me to make it my business.”

She felt her brow furrow into several lines. “I had a flood. Satisfied?”

“A flood? We haven’t had any rain.”

She sighed, annoyed by his unexpected arrival. “A washing machine flood, all right? My laundry tub overflowed because a sock fell in there on washday and plugged the drain. To make matters worse, I sort of…well, left the faucet running full blast when I ran upstairs to answer the phone.”

“Oh.” His dark, sculpted eyebrows shot up. “Not good.”

She ignored that. “I had to carry a bunch of stuff upstairs from the basement and put it in the garage to dry out.”

“Well, that was a big job, Rach. Your garage is jammed.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not helpless,” she spat.

“Has the basement dried?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had time to move everything back down there.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Beg your pardon? You’ll do no such thing. You’ll visit my kids and leave. As a matter of fact, I’ll go wake them now.” She shoved past him, but he grabbed hold of her arm and twisted her full around.

“First look at me, Rachel Evans. Here.” He gestured with two fingers pointed dead center at his eyes.

He used to have the ability to rock her senses, and some of that sensation suddenly reawakened. So, rather than look him square-on, she settled for a spot just above his head. “How long are you going to hate me?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

She sniffed and looked down at her bare toes. “I don’t hate you. At least, not anymore.”

“So, you did, but now you don’t?” His voice held a blend of relief and amusement. “I feel so much better.”

She stepped back and finally rewarded him with half a glance. His chocolate-fudge-brown eyes assessed her, toppling her nerves, and she hastened to look away, focusing on the awful condition of her house, with litter everywhere. “Just why did you pick today to suddenly show up? I—I would have cleaned up if I’d known—”

“I was visiting my parents. Yours were there, as well…and Tanna.”

“Yeah, I know—your birthday. Hope it was happy.” Her tone must have come off sounding caustic.

“It’s not till Tuesday.”

“I know that.”

He shook his head. “Anyway, don’t worry about your house.” He lifted her chin a notch and bent his head forward. “How about I treat you and the kids to McDonald’s later?”

“What? No, I—I already have supper planned.”

“Oh, really?” He sniffed the air. “What are we having?”

She sucked in a breath and let it out her nostrils. “
We
are not having anything, Jason Evans, because you won’t be here. Excuse me while I check on my kids.” Once again, she stepped past him, and, this time, he didn’t try to stop her.

A
t least she still has some spunk in her
, Jason thought as he stood at the foot of the stairs awaiting a glimpse of Meagan and John Jr., vowing never again to let so much time pass between visits. Life was just too short and precious to waste. Besides, John would have wanted him to be present in his kids’ lives, regardless of what Rachel had to say on the matter. Not only that, but her house was in shambles and she needed help. If she wouldn’t accept it from her parents or in-laws, then she’d accept it from him, because—well, he wouldn’t give her a choice.

He turned and looked at the living room. Toys, children’s books, blankets, a sippy cup, throw pillows, and a laundry basket full of unfolded clothes were just a few of the items strewn about. He figured she’d been sleeping when he’d arrived, if her disheveled appearance and puffy eyes were any indication. And why shouldn’t she have been? The girl had run herself into the ground trying to play the part of both mommy and daddy, plus maintain a household while dealing with the loss of a mate.

“Lord, she needs help,” Jason muttered under his breath as he bent to pick up a doll and then laid it on a nearby chair. Not that he had a wellspring of time on his hands, particularly since he lived a good fifty miles south of Fairmount, in a little town called Harrietta, a few miles outside of Cadillac. It wasn’t as if he could just drop over any old time.

“Uncle Jay!” Meagan’s squeal of delight had the power to spin him around in less than a second. She ran down the steps as fast as her four-year-old body would let her and leaped through the air from the third step into his waiting arms. He laughed and spun her around as her arms, wrapped tightly around his neck, nearly shut off his ability to swallow. “Where were you?” she shrieked.

He laughed some more. “If you mean, ‘Where have you been?’ well, I’ve been busy with my job, and…life.” He glanced over Meagan’s head and looked straight into Rachel’s eyes. “But I’m back now, and that’s what counts.”

Rachel dropped her gaze to the baby in her arms, her cheek resting on his downy head as he snuggled into her shoulder. The little tyke looked none too eager to meet his uncle.

Jason stepped closer. “Who’s this?”

“That’s John-John, silly,” Meagan answered.

“So, this is the famous little guy.” Meagan wasn’t about to jump down, so he shifted her in his arms to free up a hand to touch the boy’s rosy cheek. Rachel’s breath caught, and she held it, making him want to ask why she was so skittish. “You look like your mommy,” he whispered to Johnny.

Finally, the workings of a smile popped out on Rachel’s delicate face. “Everyone says my kids are more Roberts than Evans, although I’ve compared his pictures to some of John’s baby photos and I see some similarities.”

Meaning nothing by it, he reached up and tugged a wisp of Rachel’s blonde hair, smiling. “They’re both little blondies, like you.”

She gave a taut jerk of her head and stepped back, as if his slight touch equated to a scorching flame.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She swiveled quickly and headed for the kitchen. For a second, he debated whether to follow but then went with his gut.

The kitchen was in worse shape than the living room, with dirty dishes stacked a mile high in the sink and the table cluttered with mail, magazines, and newspaper ads. In the center of it all was a drooping plant that looked as if it hadn’t had a drink of water since spring. Under Johnny’s high chair was a smattering of cheerios. “I could bring Rosie over here to clean that up,” he jested, pointing at the floor.

Rachel gave a cheerless smile. “Very funny.” Hoisting Johnny on her hip, she removed the tray and buckled the baby into his seat. “I usually don’t have time to do a decent cleaning until the kids go to bed.”

“I see.” By the looks of things, they hadn’t gone to bed in a week.

Rachel walked to the cupboard and took out a jar of baby food. On cue, Johnny started banging on the tray and jabbering.

Meagan had grown heavy in his arms, so he set her down and whispered, “How about playing with your toys for a few minutes so I can talk to your mommy?”

In answer, her pert little chin went down and her lower lip shot out. Quickly, he nudged her into the living room and out of her mother’s earshot. “Listen, Meaggie,” he said, getting down on one knee and snagging a golden lock between his thumb and forefinger. “Uncle Jason is going to spend some time with you in a bit, but I need to help your mommy with a few things first. Is that all right? Why don’t you go pick out a book you’d like me to read to you, or maybe find a movie we can watch later?”

That perked her up. “You mean, like
Cinderella
or something?”

Not exactly his number one choice. “Absolutely. But you’ll have to wait till I get done helping your mom.”

Her oatmeal-colored eyebrows arched. “What you goin’ to do?”

He heaved a long sigh.
Yes, what?
And where to begin was the next question. “Well, she carried a bunch of stuff into the garage that I’m going to take back to the basement for her.”

“From when we had that lake downstairs and Mommy cried?”

“She cried, did she?”

“She cries a lot,” Meagan said with a shrug. Like a sucker punch, the straightforward comment smacked Jason square in the chest.

He fingered the buttons on the front of Meagan’s shirt. “You could help, you know, by picking up all your toys. Your mom would appreciate that a lot.”

She looked thoughtful. “Okay, but first I’ll get some books.” She scampered off, making him wonder if she’d digested any of what he’d said.

Sighing again, he headed back to the kitchen and found Rachel feeding Johnny what looked like peas, judging by the green gook all over his chin and bib.

“Does he like that stuff?”

Rachel cast him a listless glance. “He’ll eat it if it’s the only thing available.”

The only thing available?
“Do you need me to make a grocery run for you?”

He heard her breathy intake of air, saw her shoulders go down in a slump. She scraped the bottom of the jar with a spoon and gave Johnny one final green bite. “I don’t
need
you to do anything, Jason. Actually, I’d prefer it if you left.”

“I just got here.”

She let out a long breath, then snagged the Cheerios box from the table and tossed a pile of morsels on Johnny’s tray before standing up to face him. Blowing a strand of hair off her face, she asked, “What do you want, Jason?”

He took a step toward her and weighed his words carefully. One wrongly chosen word, and she would send him packing. “I want to spend time with my niece and nephew. I stayed away for a while because I knew how angry you were with me—although I haven’t figured out exactly why. But it’s been ten months, Rach, and I need to see John’s kids. Shoot, they need to see me. Also, I’d like to lend a hand around here. Don’t tell me you don’t need it, either. You do. I realized it the second I parked my car. The yard’s a disaster.”