To Love and Honor (11 page)

“I was going to apologize to you. I just woke up myself.”

Standing and stretching, Roger glanced at the TV screen. “We might as well forget the movie. We've missed most of it now.”

Violet turned off the television and sat up. Roger came to sit beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him. For several minutes, they glanced out the window where intermittent fluffy snowflakes danced at the mercy of a
strong north wind. Hungry birds twittered at the bird feeder. Neighborhood boys walked by with shining new sleds on their shoulders heading toward the vacant lot a block away, where a two-inch layer of snow would provide a testing ground for the sleds they had gotten for Christmas.

“Reminds me of the Christmas days when I was a boy,” Roger said reminiscently. “We lived on a farm about a hundred miles north of here, and it seemed that we always had snow and cold weather for Christmas then. There were usually twenty to twenty-five people at our house to celebrate the day, and after we ate a big dinner of roast pork, turkey, lots of vegetables and desserts, we boys would vacate the house and either sleigh ride or skate on the pond.” He laughed quietly. “One of us would have gotten a new sled, and we couldn't wait to try it out.”

“Sounds like lots of fun,” Violet said, thinking of the quiet Christmases she had spent.

“I remember the year I got a pair of new skates. Dad warned us that the creek wasn't frozen hard enough for skating, but I
had
to try out those skates. I took one quick slide and crashed through the ice.”

“Wasn't that dangerous?”

“Oh, the water only came to my waist, but it was
cold.
I didn't want the relatives to josh me about my accident, so I slipped in the back door and upstairs to change my clothes, hoping no one would know. But my sister noticed that I was wearing a different pair of pants, and the truth came out. Sisters!” He squeezed her shoulders. “What about you, Violet? What memories do you have of past Christmases?”

“Nothing as exciting as yours, I'm sure. Uncle was always home for Christmas, and I looked forward to
that. He brought my gifts from the foreign country where he was working. That's how I started my doll collection.” She got up and took two dolls from the shelves. She handed Roger a small doll, dressed in a colorful full skirt, embroidered vest, striped shawl and a white hat with a curled brim. “He brought this from Peru, the year he was working at the famed Inca site— Machu Picchu.”

She wiped some dust from a heavily veiled female doll, draped from head to foot in a black, fringed garment. Only the eyes of the doll were visible. “This one is probably my favorite. He bought it in Egypt.”

Violet put the dolls back on the shelf and resumed her seat beside Roger. “Your lack of parents didn't seem to affect your Christmas celebrations,” he said.

“I guess not. I wasn't used to family gatherings, and I didn't know what I was missing. We always went to Christmas Eve services at the church, and one year I was in the pageant—chosen to be one of the angels announcing the birth of the Christ Child. That was exciting.”

“I've always thought that I would like to be in the Holy Land on Christmas Eve,” Roger said. “I'd like to walk through Manger Square and go out to Shepherd's Field.”

“I didn't know you had any desire to travel,” Violet said, somewhat surprised.

Roger shrugged his shoulders. “There's no need to wish for something you can't have,” he said matter-of-factly. “I've had all I can do to provide for a family, and it wouldn't be much fun traveling by myself. And as for visiting the Holy Land at Christmas, I feel sure it would be a disappointment. There are such throngs of people crowding Manger Square at that
time, that it would be difficult to remember what we were celebrating.”

“Perhaps you can go at another time of the year,” Violet said, wishing she had the power to grant Roger's desire.

“Maybe, someday.”

They heard Linda coughing, and both of them went to see about her, but she had apparently coughed in her sleep, for she lay peacefully, and they left the room without disturbing her.

“I suppose this will be my saddest Christmas,” Violet said. “We know she can't live much longer.”

“No, and it's well that you realize it. But I believe this Christmas will be one you will remember fondly. Although it's a strain now, you'll look back on this season as the time you had your mother and were able to sacrifice for her. Christmas is a time for joy and giving, but it's often a time of sacrifice.”

“You're probably right,” she said, “but I can't see that far into the future.”

It was almost ten o'clock before Roger went home, and the day that Violet had dreaded had passed quickly and pleasantly. Musingly, she sat down and listened to the sound of his truck moving down the street.

“When are you two going to get married?” Ruth said.

Violet was speechless for several moments, and she stared at Ruth. “Me marry Roger, you mean? I've never thought of such a thing.”

“It's time you did, then. A stranger observing you would probably deduce that you're already man and wife. I've never seen two people more suited for marriage.”

“But Roger is quite a lot older than I am. Besides, he's such a good friend—I've never thought of him romantically.”

“Do you actually think he does all these things for you because he's your friend?”

“But he's good to everyone. He exhibits
agape
love, the kind that Christians have for one another.”

“
Agape
love is wonderful, but take it from a woman who was happily married for thirty years, nothing can compare with the special love that a man has for the one woman in his life. I don't want you to miss that, and I feel sure that Roger harbors that kind of love for you—he's shown it in a hundred ways since I've been here. Frankly, I think you take him for granted. You had better open your eyes before you lose him.”

Long after Ruth went to bed, Violet mulled over the strange words she had heard from her aunt. Apparently Linda had recognized Roger's love for Violet, or she wouldn't have asked him to care for her. Why was it Ruth and Linda had noticed something that she couldn't see? Ruth's words had stung her conscience.
Had she taken Roger for granted—always taking from him and never giving?

She wondered what it would be like to know the full force of Roger's love. She remembered that day at the farm when she had sat in his big chair and had the sensation that his arms were around her. He had embraced her a few times, but always in a brotherly manner. Had Roger been ready for months to offer her the kind of love that she had expected from Larry Holland and she had been too blind to see it? How was she going to find out?

A
fter Ruth's comments relating to Roger's love, Violet didn't feel as comfortable in his presence as she had previously, and at times he observed her quizzically as if he sensed a difference in her responsiveness to him and couldn't understand it.

Although she worried that it might be another case of “using” him, she did talk to him about Janie's needs, explaining what Janie had revealed about her parents. “Are channels available that would enable you to find out who her father is or where he might be? I think Janie is as well off if she doesn't know where her mother is. The woman apparently abandoned her.”

“Maybe not. Judging from what you've told me, she could have died unidentified in some emergency room. In large cities, many incidents like that occur and are never reported to the police.”

“Is there any way we could find some member of her family?”

“In this day of computerized record keeping, there
isn't much information that can be concealed. I can make inquiries, if you like, but what does Janie think about this?”

“I believe the child is happier now than she's ever been. Mrs. Grady has given her a good home, and she said that if she contacted her father and he didn't want her, it would hurt her. Maybe this isn't such a good idea and I should just tend to my own business.”

“It won't hurt for me to do a little investigating—neither the father nor Janie would need to know. What are the names of her parents?”

“Her mother's name is Pat, and Janie thinks the father's name is Robert. She said she was born in Missouri. Do what you think best. I definitely won't tell Janie anything until we return from that Social Studies Fair, which comes up in two weeks. And that's bothering me, too,” she began, and paused as her conscience smote her.
Was she just using Roger as a sounding board?

“Go ahead,” Roger prompted.

“Oh, I shouldn't unload all my worries on you.”

He laughed in his warm, easy way. “And, why not? I told you my shoulders are broad. Cry on them all you want to.”

Violet searched his eyes. Was it love or friendship that she saw? She had wished more than once that Ruth had kept her observations to herself, for the ease that she had always known in Roger's presence was gone.

“With the situation like it is, I'm wondering if I should go away and leave Aunt Ruth to take care of my mother. We'll be gone four days.”

“I can't see that Linda is any worse off than she was when she came here. And since Janie's project
has been entered in the regional competition, she has to go. Who else would take her if you don't?”

“No one,” Violet admitted.

“Even if Linda's condition worsens, Ruth can manage. I'll stop by every day, and so will Pastor Tom.”

“Of course, one of the women from the church is here daily, too. I will go, but I'll be uneasy all the time I'm gone.”

A few days before they left for Springfield, Roger reported that he may have found Janie's father. He had stopped by for a cup of coffee on his break time as he usually did when he worked the evening shift.

“The man goes by the name of Clifford Skeen, although his first name is Robert, and he owns and operates a family restaurant in Jefferson City, Missouri. He's married, without children, and I assume that he was married and divorced from Janie's mother, but I haven't verified that information yet.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Violet observed.

“As far as I can determine. It seems that he's been searching for his daughter.”

Violet's eyes brightened. “Good. I'll just back off for a while—he will eventually find her. I'll continue being Janie's friend and pray that she can be united with her father.”

While Violet had often thought of adopting Janie and making a real home for the girl she knew it was better for the child to be united with her real parent.

 

The weather was pleasant for the drive to Springfield. Mrs. Grady had bought Janie some new clothes for the Social Studies fair and the girl's happiness and excitement distracted Violet from her concerns about leaving her Aunt Ruth and mother. Janie had never
stayed in a hotel, and this only added to her excitement that had increased with each mile they traveled. As soon as they arrived in their room, which had two twin-size beds, a luxurious bathroom and a good view of the city, Violet telephoned her home.

“All is well here,” Ruth said, “and we're relieved that you've arrived safely. I'll telephone Mrs. Grady and let her know that I've heard from you.”

“Has Mother slept most of the day? I was sorry she was sleeping when I left and I couldn't say goodbye.”

“She knew you had gone though, because when I roused her for lunch, she asked me how long you would be away. I told her it was a four-day trip, and she said a rather strange thing—‘That will give me enough time.' Her comment didn't make any sense to me, but I didn't question her.”

“Probably the effect of her medication. Well, I won't telephone again, for we're going to be busy, but you know where to reach me. We're in Room 806.”

The regional fair was held in the hotel's ballroom, and the exhibits were to be registered the next morning, so the judges could make their decisions during the afternoon. The awards banquet would follow, and the show would be open for viewing the next day with the exhibitors on hand to talk to the viewers about their projects.

During the judging, arrangements had been made for the youths and their counselors to attend a concert featuring a nationally known band. Since no one in Springfield had any hint of Janie's background, she wasn't intimidated by anyone, and Violet encouraged the girl to mingle freely with the other contestants.

At the banquet, Janie and Violet had the misfortune to sit at the same table with a man who was obnoxious
and loud. Violet thought he certainly wasn't a good role model for the students, and Violet hoped he wasn't a teacher.

Assuming the role of host for their table, the man said, “My name is Conley—Mike Conley. You may have heard of Midwest Enterprises—my family owns that.”

Who hadn't heard of Midwest Enterprises?
It was one of the biggest meat distributors in the Middle West. No doubt the firm was a sponsor of this fair, and no one wanted to lose that support by throwing its representative out of the room. Conley had a reddish face and a nervous tick in his jaw that spoke of dissipation. He was a rather handsome man, probably in his thirties, with blondish features. His full lips displayed a hint of petulance, but occasionally, he seemed to drop the mask of his self-importance as a Conley, and Violet decided that under other circumstances, he might have been a decent companion.

Mostly, however, Conley complained endlessly to the waitresses and made a general nuisance of himself. After they had eaten their salads and were waiting for the main course, Conley began to quiz each of his tablemates to learn their names and find out where they lived. He usually added a cutting witticism to each of their statements, and again Violet suspected that he was playing a role, that his present behavior was a facade.

Violet hesitated when he came to her, for she didn't want him to know that they shared the same surname. But if she didn't answer, he would probably create a worse scene, so she simply said, “Violet Conley. I live in Maitland, Illinois.”

“Conley, eh? Not a very common name. You any relation to the Kansas Conleys?”

Violet remembered that Mrs. Holland had asked her if she was related to the Kansas City Conleys, so apparently a large number lived here. “I don't know any Conley other than myself.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. There are good Conleys and there are bad Conleys. Even our branch has had a few rotten apples on it.” Violet thought she had been dismissed, and she breathed easier, but just when she started to relax, he turned quickly and snapped a question at her.

“What's your father's name?”

“I believe it was Ryan, but I don't know for sure.”

He regarded her from speculative eyes for a few seconds before he turned his gaze away.

Violet was disappointed that Janie's project wasn't chosen for one of the high awards, but she was gratified that she had at least, among 15 others students, received Honorable Mention for her exhibit. Out of four hundred projects, that was noteworthy when one considered all the odds against Janie. When she returned from receiving her certificate, Janie's beaming face indicated that she wasn't disappointed, and indeed it was an honor to be recognized in such a large group.

Janie was so excited that she couldn't go to sleep, and consequently, kept talking so that Violet couldn't sleep either, but she managed to awaken Janie the next morning, and they arrived in the exhibit area ahead of schedule. The exhibitors were expected to stay beside their projects most of the time, but they did have opportunity to mill around and see what the other students had done. It was a rather tiring day, and by mid-afternoon the viewers had dwindled. Violet would
have liked to go home tonight, but she knew by the time the show was over at five o'clock, it would be too late to start after they dismantled Janie's project.

Contemplating these things, Violet jumped slightly when Janie nudged her. “Look. There's Lieutenant Gibson.” She was amazed to see Roger moving slowly up the aisle across from theirs, obviously searching for someone. Who else but the two of them?

“Roger,” she called, earning her surprised looks from those around her, but Roger heard her voice and looked in her direction. He lifted his hand and came rapidly toward them, and he looked formidable in his dark business suit, white shirt and red tie.

“What is wrong?” she asked softly when he reached her side. Roger took both her hands in his.

“Brace yourself, my dear. Your mother died early this morning, and I didn't want you to hear it by telephone. I caught the first plane I could and came to drive you home.”

“But how did it happen?” Violet gasped. “Did she take a turn for the worse?”

“Ruth couldn't rouse her at all yesterday, and she died in her sleep last night. Ruth wasn't even awake, so don't you fret about not being there.”

Violet shook her head in dismay. “I'll always regret not being with her. I bring her to my home so she can die with family, and then I'm gone when it happens.”

“Ruth believes she willed herself to die while you were gone, so you wouldn't have to witness her death. She has always tried to spare you pain, and she continued her protection right to the end.” Violet felt stunned by the news, yet Roger's words penetrated to her heart. Yes, her mother had always tried to protect
her. If that wasn't evidence of a mother's love for her child, what was?

Roger turned, looked at the project and noticed Janie's ribbon.

“Well, congratulations, Janie—I see you've gotten another award.”

“Only Honorable Mention, but I'm satisfied with that.”

“You should be. While I was searching for you, I saw some excellent projects, so you had more competition than at Maitland.” Turning to Violet again, he said, “When can you leave?”

“The show closes at five, but if I go and check out of our room now, we can leave immediately afterward. But that's going to be a long drive for you after dark, Roger. Perhaps we should stay over until tomorrow.”

“I napped on the plane, and I'll be all right. Ruth is waiting until you arrive to make arrangements.”

“You go ahead and check out,” Janie said. “I'll be all right here. My suitcase is packed.” Violet noted that very few visitors remained in the exhibit room, and she knew that Janie could get along without her. She was suddenly obsessed with the need to return to Maitland as quickly as possible.

The elevator ride up to their room on the eighth floor was crowded, and she welcomed an excuse to lean close to Roger and rest on the solidity of his physique. She fished in her purse for the door key and had it ready when they came to her room, but her hand trembled so much, she couldn't insert the key. Roger took it from her, opened the door and followed her into the room.

“It won't take long for me to pack, and Janie has kept her clothes in the suitcase.”

“We aren't in that much of a hurry. Come over here.” She hadn't cried, but her trembling wouldn't stop, and Roger pulled her into his arms and cuddled her in his muscular arms as if she were a child.

“I didn't have the chance to ask her forgiveness, Roger, for my past feelings toward her. I tried to, but she wouldn't permit any serious talk.”

“I'm sure she didn't feel there was anything to forgive. She thought she needed to ask your forgiveness for all the grief she had caused you.”

“But if she would only have talked to me!”

“She may have talked to Ruth, and if so, she will tell you now, but Linda had kept her emotions stifled for over twenty years, and I doubt she could talk to you. To my notion, she exemplified the epitome of the sacrificial love of a mother.”

“You always make me feel better, Roger, and thanks for taking the time to come out here for me. I wouldn't have welcomed that long drive home, but Aunt Ruth says that I take you for granted.”

He lifted her head from where she had buried it on his chest, and looked deeply into her eyes. Usually one could determine his thoughts, but today Roger's good, strong face reflected inscrutable emotions. “When I have any complaints about how you treat me, I'll let you know. You couldn't make any changes that would cause me to think more of you than I do already.”

She placed a hand on his chest and leaned back to return his gaze. Almost in a whisper, she said, “Roger, what are you trying to tell me?”

“I love you,” he said simply.

“What kind?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what kind of love do you have for me?
The kind that one Christian has for another, or does it go deeper than that?”