A Passion Denied (29 page)

He stared at his wife’s hand for several seconds, and then up into her eyes. His heart clutched in his chest. He pulled Lizzie from Marcy’s arms to his, resting his head against his daughter’s. His heart, riddled with bitterness, was in no condition to pray. But pray he would, if not for himself, at least for her.

“Lord God, we bring Lizzie before you, and ask that you heal the grief in her heart. Your Word says you are the lifter of our heads and that your joy is our strength. Lift our daughter’s head, oh Lord, and be her strength during this time of heartbreak. We pray that you free her from these ties to Brady and help her to move on to where you want her to go. In your time, Lord, we ask that you bring a godly man who will love her with all of his heart. But until then, fill her with your joy and your peace. Amen.”

Lizzie sniffed against his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “I love you too, darlin’, with all my heart.”

Marcy hugged her. “Lizzie, would you like me to come in for a while, just until you fall asleep?”

“No, Mother, I’ve already kept you and Father up late enough. You two go to bed, and so will I. I promise.”

She rose and kissed each of their cheeks. “I love you both so much, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for praying with me. Now please get some sleep.”

Patrick rose and followed her to the door. “I have a bit more to do downstairs, I’m afraid. You two will be long gone before my head even hits the pillow.”

He felt Marcy’s pull from the bed. “Patrick, whatever’s keeping you . . . can’t you . . . just this once, set it aside for tonight?”

Lizzie stood on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. “You do look tired, Father. Why don’t you call it a night?”

He stroked the curve of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “All in good time, Lizzie, all in good time. Good night, darlin’.”

He watched her disappear down the hall, feeling Marcy’s gaze in the dark. His sigh filled the room. Slowly, he returned to the bed to put on his shoes.

The press of Marcy’s hand, gentle on his back, jarred him. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

He dared not look at her. Prayer had softened his heart and threatened his pride. He stood and walked to the bureau to gather the clean clothes in his arms. “Yes, darlin’, I do. Good night.”

And with a resolve he didn’t fully understand, he twisted the knob and shut out his wife, closing the bedroom door along with his hardened heart.

Brady made his way home in the fading light of dusk, the air still so thick, it drenched the back of his shirt. Despite the stifling ninety-degree temperatures, people milled on the sidewalks and lawns, thick as flies at a summer barbecue. The smell of fresh-mown grass hung heavy in the air, tinged with the sweet scent of honeysuckle. As he strode down Rumpole Street, he waved to his neighbors, several of which were dousing their gardens or their kids. In one front yard, children swung on rope swings, cooling off in the breeze, while moms and dads chatted beneath leafy oaks as limp as the flag on the post office pole.

But tonight, his thoughts were far from the city heat wave and its happy victims. Instead they festered on his brother, unleashing a heat wave of his own that burned in his eyes. Here less than a week and already Michael had almost destroyed his relationship with Beth. He had forgiven his brother long ago for their past, but he had no intention of beginning again with the future. One way or the other, Michael would have to go.

“Hey, Brady, wanna play?”

At the sound of Cluny’s voice, Brady looked up, shaking off his thoughts. He stopped dead in his tracks a quarter block from his building, his smile waxing into shock. There was Michael next to Cluny, leaning against a light pole with hip cocked and arms folded.

Miss Hercules let loose with an unladylike woof and bounded toward him. She planted two dirty paws on Brady’s chest while Esther gave him a gap-toothed grin, balancing one leg like a stork in a game of kick the stone out. She hopped in the air and kicked at a rock, sending it pinging into Cluny’s leg.

“Hey, watch it, will ya, Mullen? Come on, Brady. Wanna play? Michael’s won twice. Think you can beat him?”

Michael grinned. “I doubt it, Cluny. He wasn’t much good as a kid, sure couldn’t beat me now.”

Brady glared. “I need to talk to you inside.
Now
.”

Esther rolled her stone into the next chalked square, then implored Brady with pleading eyes. “Come on, Brady, we just started this game. Can’t you talk to Michael later?”

Brady tugged on her pigtail. “Sorry, Ess, but this can’t wait. Why don’t you and Cluny finish the game, and I’ll take you both to Robinson’s for a soda after?”

She thought about it and then grinned. “Okay. Come on, Cluny, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Cluny grunted and hiked up his pants. “In your dreams, Mullen.”

Brady nodded to his building, giving Michael a look of warning.

Michael leaned down to whisper something in Cluny’s ear, then sauntered toward the flat with Brady close on his heels. The sound of Cluny’s laughter rang in their ears. Brady followed him into his apartment and shut the door hard, bent on unleashing his anger.

“Why’d you do it, Michael? Why’d you lie to Beth?”

Michael eased back onto the sofa and hiked a leg up on the table. “Come on, John, you’re so big on the truth, and that’s all I told her. You going to deny you love her?”

“It’s none of your business what my feelings for Beth are. You deceived her and got her hopes up. You hurt her, Michael.”

Michael rolled his neck while studying Brady from across the room. “No, John, you hurt her, and apparently not for the first time. What’s your problem, anyway? She’s a beautiful woman, and from what I can tell, the beauty runs way deep. I’ve never met any girl like her. If she wasn’t so all-fired bent on God, I’d be tempted to give her a shot.”

The muscles in Brady’s neck were knotted as tight as his fists, but he kept his tone calm. “I love her as a friend. Nothing more. I just don’t want to see her hurt, that’s all.”

“You sure have an odd way of showing it. The woman is goofy over you. I only saw you together for a few moments, but it was enough to convince me of one thing. You can espouse the virtues of God till you’re blue in the face, little brother, but if you stand there and tell me you love Beth only as a friend, I’d have to say you’re lying through your teeth.”

The hackles rose on Brady’s neck. He moved to the window to thrust the sash up, then turned to glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Michael shot him a narrow gaze. “Try me.”

“I’ve known Beth since she was thirteen. She’s like a sister to me.”

A glimmer of surprise reflected in Michael’s eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re attracted to her, but you see her as family. Gee, that sounds a bit familiar, John.”

Brady jerked forward. “Get out, Michael, now. I want you gone.”

He laughed. “Well, that makes two of us, little brother, but you and I both know we have unresolved business. I’m not going anywhere until you agree to sign the papers.”

“I don’t care where you go, but you’re not staying here.”

Michael sat forward to straddle the edge of the couch. For the first time, his face was void of its usual confidence and humor. “Look, John, I came here to get you to sign the papers, it’s true. But that’s not all. For some cockeyed reason I actually had this far-fetched idea that maybe, just maybe, we could heal our relationship, get back on track as brothers, as a family.” He turned away and threaded a hand through his hair. “I’ve missed you. Both Helena and I have. With Lucille gone, you’re the only family we’ve got. Can’t we start over?”

Brady stared, shock warring with anger. He looked away. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of pain in our past. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“Maybe you need to. Ever think about that?”

Brady exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I have. But I need more time.”

“You’ve had eleven years.”

He looked up. “To forgive. But only a week to get to know you again.”

His brother paused, as if weighing his words. He exhaled softly. “I need you, John. Not just to sign the papers. But as a brother and a friend.”

Brady stared out the window, his eyes lost in a cold stare. “Someday, maybe.”

He heard the swoosh of the sofa as Michael rose to his feet. “Someday? Well, tell me, John, what exactly would your Bible tell you to do?”

But whoso beholdeth his brother in need, and shutteth up his compassion
from him, how doth the love of God abide in him?

Michael’s words hit their mark and Brady closed his eyes, releasing all the fight inside with one long, weary breath. “All right, Michael, you win.”

He heard his brother take a step forward. “You’ll come back, then?”

“No, I already made that clear. But you’re welcome to stay awhile longer.”

“I appreciate it, John. But I’d appreciate it a lot more if you’d come back with me. What can I do to convince you?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even the threat of seducing Beth?”

Brady wheeled around, his fury rekindled. “You wouldn’t dare, not after that heartfelt speech about family.”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t want to, trust me, but what choice do I have? You’re being a mule, and you know it. What’s it going to cost you? Maybe some time, and then you’re a rich man. What more could you want?”

“To be free of my past, not to reclaim it.”

Michael eyed him through weary eyes. “I’m tired of pussyfooting with you, John. If Beth is the only thing you care about, then maybe you’ll care enough to keep me away from her. Sign the papers or I’ll make a play for her. She’s already half in love with me because of the way I look. Couldn’t be too hard to take her the rest of the way.”

Muscles twitched in Brady’s face. He thought of Beth and her commitment to seek a man who loves God. He waged a bet and put all his fears on the table. “It won’t work. She’s not interested.”

“No? Well, I don’t know about you, little brother, but I’ve had a lot of success with women. Come on, John, we’re good-looking men, don’t you know that? It shouldn’t be long before she’s looking at me the way she looks at you.”

Brady took a step forward and shoved Michael hard. His jaws ached with fury. “Get out—
now!
I’m taking Cluny and Ess to the drugstore, and you better be gone when I get back or so help me, God—”

Michael stood his ground. “You think God’ll ‘help’ you beat me up, is that it? You know, it’s a funny thing about your God, John. You preach him a lot, but when it comes to the deep, dark secrets inside, you pretty much do whatever you please.”

Brady’s fist froze midair, inches from his brother’s face. He took a step back and released a choking breath. His arm quivered to his side.

“Thanks for proving my point. I’ll be gone when you get back, but I’d give it some thought. I don’t want to move in on your girl, but you leave me no choice. I’m not going to let your pride and fear of the past rob Helena and me. Think about it, John. You have everything to gain and nothing to lose.”

He walked out of the room, leaving Brady shaking with rage.

Everything to gain. A house and a past he swore he’d never return to.

And nothing to lose.

Except for his peace.

Marcy stood at Mrs. Gerson’s kitchen window, in bleak harmony with the rivulets of water that slithered down the pane. It was a slow and steady rain, endless weeping from a gray and dismal sky, and Marcy felt a kinship with it. It showed no signs of letting up, much like the grief in her heart over the loss of her husband. A silent mourning over a spouse who was still very much alive, but whose love was as cold and dead as any corpse.

She felt the chill of a shiver and clutched her arms to her waist. A shrill whistle pierced the air, and she turned to see Mrs. Gerson rise to serve the tea. Marcy watched her blind neighbor move with the ease of a sighted woman, and knew she had come to the right place. Small and frail, Christa Gerson could barely see more than shadows, but she possessed a vision far beyond mundane tasks. She hobbled to the table with the teapot and smoothed a wrinkled hand across the surface until she located the cup. A soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she poured first one cup and then the other.