Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 (16 page)

She wasn’t the least bit tired as she’d predicted even before the scary movie, so she decided to go into the guest room where she kept all of her old pictures and look for Jason.

In Mrs. Faulkner’s Third grade class picture, she finally found him. Her stomach somersaulted at the image of an extremely young Jason. His clear blue eyes shined from behind a pair of thick glasses, cowlicks shooting his dark hair in all directions. He wore a t-shirt with thick orange and yellow stripes and looked ready to be anywhere but there, standing still on the back row of a class full of fidgety eight-year olds.

She could see the innocence of youth shining from his eyes, shining from the eyes of all the students in the class. Suddenly, she was assaulted with images of her own child, one with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Would it be a boy or girl? If it were a girl, would her hair have a slight curl like her own? She imagined an amalgamation of Jason’s and her best features, morphed together to create a stunning woman or man. Would they be happy like Kelly seemed to be? Or would they be more of a loner? Should she insist on raising it alone like Kelly? Or could she give up enough control to allow Jason to be a part of his or her life? Could she even trust him to do what needed to be done?

Was that what her hesitation with telling Jason about the baby was all about? Was she afraid of relinquishing control? Sure, she had done a fine job with Kelly and was proud of her efforts. But was that what all of this fear of telling Jason was based on? Was she afraid he would mess the child up somehow? She couldn’t do that. The baby was his, and she had to tell him. As soon as possible.

Or would he be more like Cody, claiming her as his own and forcing her to sever all ties to her friends and family? She couldn’t let that happen even though he hadn’t shown any tendencies towards that. She was a different person from the young girl who’d gotten married straight out of high school. Couldn’t she trust her own judgment?

Renae didn’t sleep that night, but it wasn’t because of the movie.

T
he next morning, at church, Jason sat across the aisle, and one row back from Renae and a little lady he presumed was her mother. His dad sat next to him, writing furiously in a notebook, and Jason idly wondered if he was taking notes on the sermon, or if he was cooking up a scheme of some sort.

He could see Renae’s profile clearly while she watched the preacher intently as he spoke about the temptation of the Garden of Eden. He had to admit, the preacher was a compelling speaker, and Renae was rapt. He could see her eyes widen as she nibbled on something she’d retrieved from her purse. He smiled to himself as he watched her, his attention on the preacher fading. It was a story he’d heard before.

Jason didn’t really enjoy sermons much. They were all one person’s take on the Bible, a supposedly divine work. If it was so divine, was man really supposed to understand it fully? Historical research showed that early Christianity was a political machine to quell the rising “witchcraft” in Europe. Jason didn’t put a lot of stock in man’s interpretation of it.

Jason believed in the power of God, just not the little people that stood in pulpits around the globe condemning people with their judgment.

This man, who was talking about God’s wrath on those who succumb to temptations of the flesh, had Jason tuning out almost immediately. This, in particular, was an aspect he’d always had a hard time swallowing.

If God created man and woman in his image, then He knew damn good and well that the human orgasm was the most intense physical experience there was. People were created to procreate. Period. All of the other stuff that separated man from the beasts (who were not sinners for having sex), was just gravy. The intelligence, the capacity to love all delineated people from animals. The sex part was animalistic, uncontrollable, and God didn’t judge for that. That was all Man’s power trip, in Jason’s mind, anyway.

While the preacher continued his sermon on God’s judgment for temptations of the flesh, Jason watched Renae. She seemed to be buying into all this. Her face had paled considerably, and she watched the preacher intently, her fingers clutching the hymnal to her chest, knuckles white.

It would have been cute, if he didn’t know she had to be thinking about him. If she was as inexperienced as she’d said, and he didn’t have any reason not to believe her, she had to be relating the sermon to their own experiences. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He sighed inwardly to himself, glad he’d come. Now he knew he had some serious work cut out for him if he ever wanted to be with her again. Pious points of view were the most difficult to overcome.

The preacher ended his discourse, and everyone stood to sing a hymn Jason was particularly fond of,
Here I Am
, not because of the message, but the arrangement plucked a chord inside him. He sang clearly, looking at Renae while he sang, urging her to see him. Really see him.

When the service ended, Jason and Joe filed into the aisle, followed by Jodie, his wife and two daughters, who had come up to visit this weekend. Joe seemed to be doing better physically, having gotten used to the boot, and not using the wheelchair at all. Having both of his sons there in church gave him a visible luster of pride, and Jason was glad he’d come.

He maneuvered himself to come out of the row at about the same time Renae did, so she wouldn’t be able to miss him. He hadn’t been able to catch her eye during the service. When he ended up next to her, she dropped her eyes, and he knew the sermon had gotten to her.

“Hey there,” he said softly, pulling her into a hug. Others were greeting each other warmly, and he used it as an excuse to touch her as much as he could. Her body pressed against his stiffly, but he rubbed his hand up and down her back in a friendly manner, urging her to relax.

“Hey, Jason,” she breathed into his shoulder. Pulling back, she greeted Joe and Jodie. Jason introduced her to his brother’s family.

“It’s very nice to meet you. This is my mother, Mary Colt.” The diminutive woman with Renae’s slate eyes smiled warmly and held out her hand for him to clasp.

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Colt. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”

Renae had leaned over and was talking to Jodie’s girls while Jodie and his wife were being introduced to Joe’s friends in the surrounding pews that had come in late and hadn’t gotten the round of introductions before the service started.

Mrs. Colt didn’t immediately let go of Jason’s hand, clasping it tightly in her cold, dry grasp. “I haven’t heard near enough about you. Won’t you join us for lunch? We usually go back to my center for lunch. They have pot roast on Sundays. Your family can come, too, if they want.”

Joe had heard the exchange, and said, “Go on, Jason. We’ll meet up with you later. Emily’s got some sort of salad waiting for us at home.” His grimace spoke volumes about his opinion on the salad. “It was good to see you again, Mary.” He doffed an imaginary hat at Renae’s mother.

“I would like that, if it’s okay with Renae.” She was still bent at the waist, talking to Savannah and Sarah, probably to avoid looking at him. Hearing her name, she looked up at Jason.

“What?”

“Your mother invited me to lunch with you guys. I haven’t had pot roast in ages.” He smiled, hoping the blanch on her cheeks would fade.

“Um… sure.”

“I rode here with Jodie, so can I ride with you?”

Mrs. Colt jumped in. “Absolutely, dear. But you’ll have to sit in the back. I can’t climb in the back seat of that monstrosity she calls a vehicle.”

Jason chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of doing it differently.”

Lunch was an experience for Jason. Mary Colt lived in an assisted living institution, but it was a nice one. Effort had been put forth to make the cafeteria like a restaurant: linen tablecloths and napkins, votive candle centerpieces, real plates and servers. Jason was impressed. He wondered which card he’d have to sell to afford a place like this for his dad.

They ate with Mary’s constant chatter about her schedule for the week. She talked of bridge on Tuesday, Bible study on Wednesday, bingo on Thursday, Zumba classes, a sewing group, and her book club. Amid that were interruptions from friends, more elderly ladies and men, coming up to introduce themselves to Jason, the fresh face in the crowd, and greet Renae, a familiar visitor. Mary fairly glowed under the attention.

“Joe’s son? How’s that old coot doin’?” A huge man about his dad’s age, had stopped to greet everybody warmly.

“He’s doing really well,” Jason lied easily. Strangers didn’t need to know all the details. “My brother and his family are in town this weekend, so he’s getting lots of attention for his stories.” He wondered if Renae was feeling more relaxed after church or if she was still wound up from the sermon. He snaked his hand over to rest on her thigh and could feel it stiffen under his touch. Yup. Still tense. Gently he massaged her leg while listening raptly to the man talk.

“Joe could tell some doozies, too. You the younger son? Aren’t you a musician or something?”

No secrets in a small town… “Yes, sir. The saxophone.”

“You should come out here and play sometime. Us old folks would really enjoy that.”

“I just might, if it’s all right with the management.” The retirement facility was a really nice place, and Jason wouldn’t be surprised if they jumped to have him play some music at dinner. It seemed like they would do whatever it took to make it a really nice experience for the residents.

Mary let a huge yawn escape after she’d finished her lunch and blushed. “I’m terribly sorry. It’s past my nap time.” She offered weakly as an excuse.

“It’s no problem, Mom. I’ve got to be getting back, too.” Renae looked at Jason. “You ready?”

He nodded and thanked Mary for lunch, grabbing her chair for her when she stood. “It was a real pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Colt. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

She patted his hand. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, what with Renae in her situation and all.”

What situation? He looked at Renae with a question since he had absolutely no idea what Mary was talking about, and he saw every drop of blood drain from her face.

“Thanks, Mom. See you later.” Renae grabbed Jason’s hand, the first touch she’d actually instigated all day, and pulled him from the building. He followed dutifully.

In her van, the easy banter they had shared the night before was gone. Jason could tell something was bothering her and thought he had an idea what it was. In a gesture he thought would be reassuring, he reached over and laid his hand on her knee, patting it gently. It served to make her nervous though, as she stiffened visibly.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” he offered hopefully.

She increased her speed, and Jason saw she was suddenly in a hurry to get him home so she didn’t have to talk to him.

“You have no idea what’s wrong, Jason.” The words came out with a tired sigh that tugged at Jason’s heart.

“All that talk about temptation and God’s judgment on the weak is just that. Talk.”

“How can you know that?” The disbelief in her voice was evident.

“Discussions on dogma and theology aside, I have an observation, if I may.” Removing his hand from her knee, he turned his body to watch her as he spoke. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, so he continued. “We have something, Renae. God, or whoever, created us to go together, man and woman. He created us to enjoy the experience. Do you really believe he would have made sex so enjoyable if he didn’t want us to do it? I think it’s a strong compatibility indicator in our decision to find a mate.” He took a deep breath. She could easily take this next part the wrong way. “You and I fit together better than most, don’t you think? That night we shared was amazing, and as an indicator, I’d like to further our relationship. I know we’ve sort of done things backwards, but for us, it seems to work. I saw your reaction to the sermon, and I know you’re bothered by the preacher’s words.”

She snorted, an endearing noise from the back of her throat.

“I’m not just trying to get you back into bed. I haven’t ever felt this way about a woman before, and if I were a religious man, I’d think it was God’s way of saying we’re supposed to be together. Not the other way around.”

She sighed. “I know, Jason. That’s exactly why this is so hard. There’s more, but this isn’t the place to talk about it. Sorry.”

She kept being evasive, and he chalked it up to inexperience, getting to know her, whatever. “Fair enough. I’m not pushing, I just didn’t want this to come between us. Last night was great, and I want to keep seeing where we’re going. I just don’t want you to shut us down.”

“I’m not shutting anything down. I just want to think.” She pulled up in front of the shop and put the car in park but didn’t shut off the engine. Apparently, she wasn’t planning on coming inside. If she wanted to think, he would let her take her time. Something told him it would be worth it if she ever came to the conclusions he’d come to.

“You take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I think we’re right together, and I think we should see where this takes us. I’ll wait for you to come to the same conclusion, or not.”