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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Widow's Choice
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“No, I haven’t.”

“Why don’t we stop off and get something at the café? And then I’ll give you a ride home. Oscar gave me strict orders to take you home after practice.”

“That sounds good. I’m starved.”

The two got into his car and went to the Royal Café. Jason ordered a steak and she ordered a sandwich. While they were waiting, they talked about the musical program.

“I still think this is some kind of a mistake for me to be singing in the church choir.” He gazed off into the distance, sorrow and regret in his eyes. “I drink sometimes, you know.”

“Do you?”

“You probably already knew it but you’re too nice to say so. Well, I do drink. Sometimes when I get down, I just can’t seem to help it.”

“Oscar told me you crashed your plane when you were flying for the navy.”

“That’s right. Before that, it was the happiest time of my life. I love to fly.” He told her about what it was like to fly far above the ground, looking down at cars that looked like toys and clouds that looked like cotton. After their food arrived, he said, “When my plane went down that day, it didn’t hurt me physically, but it did something inside me. I got in another plane the next day, but I froze. Couldn’t even start down the runway. I guess I just lost my nerve. I was so lucky to walk away from that plane. I’m still not sure how I survived it.”

After the two had finished their meals, they sat there drinking coffee for a time, and finally they got up and left. He was silent as he drove her home, and when he stopped in front of her house, she waited until he got out and opened the door.

“Thanks for the meal,” she said.

“You’re welcome. It’s good to be doing something different for a change. I’m pretty lonesome, but I’ll bet those boys of yours aren’t. I’ll bet they’re having the time of their lives.”

“It was wonderful for Oscar to take them for the weekend like he did,” Alona said as he walked her to the house.

“He’s a generous man.”

“I’m looking forward to the cantata.” She opened the front door.

“I think it will be a good one. You have a beautiful voice.”

“Well, thank you. I don’t sing as well as you do.”

“Maybe we can do a duet sometime.”

“Maybe so. Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Alona.”

****

When the boys came piling into the house the next evening, they were all trying to talk above the others. “I shot a deer, Mom,” Zac yelled, “and we dressed it out, and I brought some of the meat home.”

“And I caught a six-pound bass,” Carl said, “but we ate him!”

“It was great, Mom,” Tim said. “We had so much fun with Roger and Mike—and Leon too.”

“Where did you get these new clothes?”

“Mr. Moran said we needed warmer clothes. He bought them for us before we left. Ain’t they keen?” Zac said, strutting around.

Oscar came in, arms loaded with packages of venison. “You won’t have to worry about meat for a few days. Have you ever cooked deer?”

“Yes, I have. I always soak it overnight in saltwater. It makes it tender.” She motioned for him to put the packages on the counter. “Can you stay for a cup of coffee?”

“Absolutely.”

The boys could not speak fast enough as they all sat at the kitchen table and told Alona about the weekend. Oscar sat back, saying little but smiling. After he finished his coffee, he said, “Well, I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll go to the door with you.”

“Mr. Moran, it was the best time we ever had, all of us,” Tim said. “Thanks a lot.” He put his hand out, and Oscar shook it.

“Tim, it was the best time I ever had too.” He shook hands with the other two boys as well. “We’ll have to do something like this again. You save some time for me, all right?”

The boys assured him they were ready for anything, and they stayed in the kitchen while Alona walked Oscar to the front door.

“They had such a wonderful time,” she said.

“So did I.” He buttoned his coat. “There’s a concert over in Dayton next Saturday. I don’t know how good it’ll be, but I know you love music. Would you like to go with me?”

“That would be nice, Oscar.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up about five o’clock. We’ll go get something to eat before the concert. Can you get someone to stay with the boys?”

“Oh, I’ll leave Tim in charge. He’s very responsible.”

“They’re fine boys.” Oscar shook his head. “I know you must be very proud of them.”

“I am.”

“I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

Alona closed the door, and as she walked back to the kitchen, she suddenly realized,
He is interested in me.
The thought troubled her. She had never thought of remarriage, but now she began to wonder if Oscar Moran could be a man she might learn to love. She knew she could never marry again unless she felt the Lord’s blessing on it. When she went into the kitchen, the boys were still talking about their adventure.

“Did Mr. Moran take good care of you?” she asked.

“Oh, Mom, he spent all the time with us! He’s very careful with guns, and he taught us all how to shoot. Even Carl got to shoot the big deer rifle.”

“He bought us all these nice clothes, Mom,” Zac said. “And he told us he has a pool table. He said we can come over sometime and play pool.”

“That would be fun.”

“Would you go too, Mom,” Tim wanted to know, “if he asked you?”

“I expect I would, Tim. I’ve never played pool, but it might be fun.”

He started to ask another question, but then he suddenly broke it off. She thought she knew what the question would be, but Tim would have to ask it himself.

CHAPTER NINE

An Elegant House

“Tim, you’ve done a great job on this painting.”

Tim stared at the painting on the easel rather doubtfully. “You really think so, Jason?”

“Sure do. See how you’ve blended the various grays in the sky to make it look overcast? And here you’ve got this little bit of vermilion to show that the good weather’s about to come.”

“I don’t think I did very well with the trees.”

“It’s a lot better than the last time. You’re doing well, son—you’re really making progress.” Tim seemed to enjoy having the time with a father figure as much as he did painting. Jason stood beside Tim, his hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. He understood a little about how the boy felt, for when he had shown an interest in painting when he was young, not much older than Tim, Oscar had shown no understanding at all. Jason had worked hard to save his own money for paints and canvas and books, but he had never been able to persuade Oscar to let him take lessons. Later, after joining the navy, all of his free time went to studying the technical aspects of flying.

Tim turned suddenly. “I’m using up all the canvases, and they cost a lot of money.”

“You have to use canvas to learn how to paint. Sometimes I painted over old paintings and then I wished I hadn’t.”

“Why, Jason?”

“Because I wish I’d kept all my paintings. Kind of a record of my life at that time. You want to keep all these, Tim. One
of these days you’ll look back and you’ll remember how you struggled with these. It’ll be easy for you then.”

“I don’t see how you paint your leaves so easily,” Tim said, leaning forward.

“I’ll show you. Here. Let’s work on this tree together. Watch me do a little, and then you try to do what I’ve done.”

The two worked for over an hour, Tim’s face alight with eagerness, and Jason smiling from time to time thinking how much the boy was like him when he was that age.

Jason put his brush down. “Well, I’ve got to be headed to work. It’s going to be—” The door opened, and Alona stood there smiling.

“Can I come in or is this for artists only?”

“Come in, Mom. Look at how I’ve done this tree. Isn’t it neat? Jason showed me how to do it real easy.”

Alona was pleased at the happy, excited expression on Tim’s face. Zac took this same sort of excitement and interest in sports, and Carl in making mechanical projects. But painting was the only thing that brought such joy to Tim. “That is really wonderful!” she said as she came closer. “You’ve even got the old windmill in there. I’d know this place anywhere.”

“He’s doing real great, Alona,” Jason said. “He’ll never be as good as I am, of course.” He winked at Tim.

“You are so egotistical, Jason Moran!”

“Like Dizzy Dean says, it ain’t bragging if you can do it.”

“I guess there’s some logic to that.”

“I’ve got to get to work—back to the salt mine,” Jason said.

“Thanks for showing me how to do the leaves, Jason.”

“I did my best, but at some point you’ll need a real teacher.”

“Gosh, I wish I could have a class in painting instead of English or some of the other stuff I have at school!”

“You’ll need that too,” Jason said. “Do your best at everything. I’ll teach you what little I know, which isn’t a lot, and someday you’ll be a full-fledged painter.”

“That’s what I want to do more than anything!”

“You stick with it, then.” Jason turned to Alona and said, “I’ll see you tonight at practice.”

“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Alona said as she walked with Jason out of Tim’s bedroom and toward the door.

“Yes, it is.” Jason put on his overcoat and donned his hat. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed singing in the choir, and Brother Byron is a great preacher.”

“I think so too, and the cantata is going to be wonderful. Everyone in the choir is aware of how much you add to it.”

“I’m lucky they haven’t kicked me out.” He grinned. “I’ll see you later, Alona.”

****

Oscar pulled his Oldsmobile up in front of Alona’s house, turned the engine off, and leaned back in the seat. “Did you like the concert?”

“Very much, and the dinner was wonderful. I hope I didn’t embarrass you by eating so much.”

“I think we were both equally guilty about that. Doc Roberts keeps on me to lose weight, but I can’t seem to stop eating. When I was younger it was easier.”

“You really ought to pay attention to what the doctor says.”

“Now, don’t you start in. Jason stays on my back every day about eating too much.”

“You should listen to him.”

“I know I should, but there are very few pleasures in life that I really enjoy. Eating’s one of them.” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “But I enjoyed tonight very much. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“Of course we can.”

“You know, Alona, I get very lonely at times.” He stared out at the street for a moment and then said quietly, “I’m sure you do too.”

“Yes, of course I do, but I have my boys to keep me busy.”

“Would you and the boys like to go to one of the Civil War
battlefields sometime? There’s one not too far away. I think they’d enjoy it and it would be educational.”

“Yes. Why, I think that would be very nice.”

“Let’s plan on that some weekend, then.” He reached out his hands and took both of hers. “It was a wonderful evening. Thank you so much for going.”

****

In mid-March they finally found a Saturday when they could all be free to make the trip to the Civil War battlefield. Oscar had invited Alona and the boys to have dinner at his house after they got home. “We could go to a restaurant,” he said, “but I’d like for you to see my house. My brother will be there, and the housekeeper will take care of everything.”

Alona agreed, for she had been curious to see his house.

The battlefield was great fun for the boys and interesting for Alona. The boys were full of questions, and Alona found that Oscar knew an awful lot about the Civil War and could answer most of their questions.

When they returned to Jonesboro, they stopped at the foundry and Oscar gave them a quick tour, again answering the boys’ many questions. Zac was fascinated by the place, but Tim didn’t like it much. It was noisy and dirty, and Oscar said as they left, “It’s not the place for a lady, Alona, but I’m proud of it.”

“I know you must be, Oscar. Everyone says it was nothing less than your determination and strength that kept it going when other businesses were failing. You have a right to be proud of it.”

“Do you think so? Well, I must admit I am.” He tried to see the building through her eyes. “It’s not lovely, but it’s provided work for a lot of people who needed it, and of course, it’s done some good things for me too. Now, let’s go to the house. I’m starved.”

Oscar’s home was on the edge of town, in a very nice
neighborhood where all of the houses had huge lots. Oscar’s two-story colonial-style house had huge pillars out front, with gables on all four sides of the structure. Although the grass was dormant, she could tell the lawn had been carefully tended. There were flower beds everywhere with splotches of color from winter jasmine, pansies, violas, and other winter flowers.

“I’ll show you about the grounds some other time, but it’s getting dark now. Come on, boys. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Oscar opened the front door, and a tall, gaunt woman dressed in a severe gray dress stood in the spacious foyer watching them. “This is Mrs. Darrow, my housekeeper,” he told the Jennings family. “Mrs. Darrow, this is Mrs. Jennings, and these are her boys. This is Timothy, Zachary, and Carl.”

“You are very welcome. Dinner is ready whenever you’d like, Mr. Moran.”

“We’ll be ready as soon as we get washed up. Is Jason here?”

“No, sir.”

Oscar frowned. “I told him I was bringing company for dinner, but he’s generally late. Well, come along, boys. I’ll show you where you can get washed up. Mrs. Darrow, you can show Mrs. Jennings where she can refresh herself.”

“Certainly, sir. If you’ll come this way, Mrs. Jennings.”

Alona followed the tall woman into a spacious bedroom on the main floor. “This is one of the guest rooms,” Mrs. Darrow said, “and there’s an adjoining bath. Will you require anything else?”

“No, thank you. This is a lovely house.”

“Yes, Mr. Moran is very proud of it. He spared no expense. Of course Mrs. Moran did most of the decorating.”

“Were you with them when she was alive?”

“Yes. I’ve been here for sixteen years.” Mrs. Darrow’s face was rigid, and there was a hardness about her. “The dining room is down the hall,” the woman said and left.

BOOK: The Widow's Choice
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