A Scarlet Cord (10 page)

“Oh, Joel … I’m so sorry. Tell me about your parents,” Melanie said gently, attempting to coax happier memories. “What were they like?”

“Dad was more serious—our solid rock—the glue that held us all together. My mom was … comic relief.” His laugh was warm with remembrance. “She was always teasing and playing jokes on us. She never failed to get us on April Fools’ Day. Tim and I would try to outwit her, and every year she beat us to it. She’d freeze plastic bugs in our ice cubes, put salt in the sugar bowl—once she put our underwear in the freezer overnight—anything to get a laugh out of us.”

When Joel turned to Melanie, there was a faraway look in his eyes, but a soft smile painted his face. “You would have liked her, Melanie. She was a lot like you in some ways. She had a sense of humor like yours. But she could be moody, too.”

Melanie wrinkled her nose at him. “Are you saying I’m moody?”

“You are.”

“What? I’m not moody!”

“Yes, you are,” he declared.

“Joel Ellington, I am
not
moody. When have I
ever
been moody?”

“Trust me,” he said. “You are very moody. In fact, I think you might possibly be the moodiest woman I’ve ever known.”

She stared at him, mouth agape. “Define
moody
,” she said finally.

“Subject to being in moods,” he deadpanned.

“As in
bad
moods?”

He gave a little laugh now and leaned forward, looking pointedly out the windshield. “Isn’t that the most beautiful sky? Just look at all those stars.”

“It’s foggy, Joel. There is not one star in that sky. And quit trying to change the subject.”

“Whoo,” he whistled under his breath. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were all of a sudden in a mood.”

She turned defiantly toward him, ready to give him a piece of her mind. One look at his Cheshire-cat grin told her she’d been had.

She gave a little growl of frustration. “I think Joel Ellington took after his mother,” she said, slugging his arm playfully.

He made her laugh, and it was wonderful to laugh with Joel. But she realized with dismay that she had effectively dammed the river of communication. The moment passed, and Joel shared no more about his family or his past.

But when he walked her to the door, he took her face in his hands and stroked her cheekbones gently with his thumbs, studying her face with a light in his eyes that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. She trembled a little beneath the warmth of his touch. And when he leaned to place his lips softly upon hers, nothing else mattered then but the joy of that moment.

Nine

Joel pushed away from the table and rubbed his belly. “I’ve eaten some fine lasagna in my day, Ms. LaSalle, but that was some of the finest.”

“Hey! I helped too,” Jerica pouted from her place across the table.

“You, too, Little Miss LaSalle. It was delicious.”

Jerica beamed, and Melanie said, “Well, thank you, Mr. Ellington, but I hope you saved room.”

“That depends. For what?”

Melanie scooted her chair away from the table and arched a brow. “You’ll see. Sit right there. Come help me, Jerica.” She took their empty plates, and Jerica skipped after her into the kitchen. He could hear them whispering and rummaging around in the cupboards, and soon the sulfurous odor of a lit match wafted under his nose. “What are you two up to in there?” he hollered.

“Okay, close your eyes, Joel,” Jerica shouted from the doorway of the kitchen.

He complied, wondering what in the world these two had up their sleeves.

“Now don’t peek,” Melanie warned. He felt her brush against him, then a rush of heat and the smell of burnt sugar assailed him.
They must have cooked up a Cherries Jubilee or Bananas Foster or whatever those flaming desserts they always served in restaurants were called.

“Okay,” Jerica singsonged. “You can look now.”

He opened his eyes, and his heartbeat faltered. On the table in front of him, a two-layer birthday cake blazed with candles. Melanie and Jerica burst into the “Happy Birthday” chorus.

A flush of shame washed over him. “How … how did you know?” he stuttered, when the last note died out.

“It was in the church newsletter, silly,” Melanie said. “I can’t believe you went through the whole meal without saying something. You didn’t think we’d just let your birthday go by, did you?”

Joel didn’t know what to say.

“Joel?” She eyed him, her forehead creased with astonishment. “Did you forget your own birthday?”

“I … guess I did,” he said, forcing a smile. That much at least was true. “You guys are something else. Thank you.”

“Blow out the candles!” Jerica begged.

“There’re too many! You help me, okay?” he said, pulling her up to sit on his knee. “Be careful now.” He scooted her close to him and brushed a soft strand of hair away from her face. She felt light as a little bird on his lap.

“You’d better hurry,” Melanie laughed, “before the whole cake goes up in flames.”

“Wait!” Jerica turned to him, her face serious. “You have to make a wish first.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.
Oh, Lord Jesus, let me be worthy of their love
. He opened his eyes and counted. “One, two, three.” Together they blew, and finally the last candle was extinguished.

Jerica bounced on his lap. “What did you wish? What did you wish?”

“Huh-uh,” Melanie scolded, shaking her finger. “He can’t tell us, or it won’t come true.”

Melanie went to the sideboard and brought out a package from behind a vase of fresh flowers. She set it in front of Joel.

He looked up at her, his heart so full he was afraid he would weep. “For me?”

“You’re the birthday boy, aren’t you?”

Again, guilt pierced him.

“Open it! Open it!” Jerica sang.

“Okay.” He shook the box gently. “Do you know what’s in here?” he asked Jerica.

She shook her head, eyes wide.

Slipping off the shiny ribbon, he carefully peeled the tape from one end of the silver paper.

“Oh, good grief,” Melanie laughed. “You are worse than any woman. Just
open
it!”

Laughing, he ripped the gift-wrap and held out the package for Jerica to finish the job. Inside the box, nestled in white tissue paper, was a set of wind chimes fashioned with a pinecone motif. He held them up, and Jerica batted at them gently. They sounded a lovely and haunting melody.

“I hope your neighbors won’t mind,” Melanie said, “But I remember you said you’d always liked wind chimes.”

He didn’t recall when he had told her that, but it was true, and he was touched that she remembered. “Thank you, Melanie.”

Jerica gave him a special birthday card she’d made herself. Joel hid a smile as he opened the envelope. The card must have contained half a pound of glitter and nearly that much Elmer’s glue.

Melanie sent all but two small slices of the birthday cake home with him. He drove back to his apartment with a car full of goodies and a heart overflowing with love.

For the first time, the tenth of May seemed like a day he could truly celebrate.

The July sun beat down on the dusty baseball diamond, and the sweaty little girls in the outfield shaded their eyes against its glare.

“Go, Comets!” Melanie yelled from the bleachers. “Get ready, Jerica! Batter’s up.”

From her spot in left field, Jerica brushed off her mother’s words with a wave of her glove.

Sitting beside Melanie in the stands, Joel shouted, “Back up a little, Jer. This one’s a slugger, remember?”

Jerica flashed him an ear-to-ear grin and promptly took three steps backward.

“Oh, brother!” Melanie rolled her eyes in Joel’s direction. In truth, she was thrilled that Jerica was so obviously proud to have Joel there watching her play.

A ponytailed batter stepped up to the tee and wound up the miniature bat as though this were the majors. She took one mighty swing, and the ball sailed over the third baseman’s head straight toward Jerica.

Joel leapt from the stands and started yelling. “Catch it, Jerica! You got it, babe. Get under it! Get under it!”

The ball dropped in front of the droopy glove and bounced out of reach. By the time Jerica chased the ball down and got it back to the pitcher, the home-run batter was exchanging high-fives with the rest of her team in the dugout.

The game went downhill from there, and it was a dejected five-year-old who climbed into the backseat of Joel’s car at the end of the afternoon.

Joel helped Jerica with her seat belt, then knelt by the open door. “Hey, sport, tough luck, huh?”

“I stink,” she pouted, arms folded tightly in front of her.

“Hey, I don’t want to hear you talk like that,” he told her firmly. He tipped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You did your best.
You weren’t the only one who made mistakes out there. Tonight just wasn’t the Comets’ night. Besides, that team you played was really good. I’d be willing to bet they haven’t lost a game all season.”

From her perch in the front passenger seat, Melanie watched the exchange with a full heart. Joel was so tender and wise with Jerica. When she’d been dating Jeff Franzen, she had sometimes resented Jeff’s attempts to have a hand in Jerica’s nurturing or discipline. But Joel’s interest in Jerica seemed natural, seemed to spring from true love and affection, not from a sense of obligation or an effort to impress Melanie with what a good father he would be.

Now he tousled the little girl’s sweat-damp hair. “You okay?”

Jerica nodded, tears threatening.

“Come on, babe. Let me see a smile.” He blew a kiss her way and waited for the halfhearted giggle that followed.

Joel chucked her under the chin, carefully shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side. “Anybody feel like ice cream?”

Those magic words brought Jerica out of her doldrums in an instant. “Yeah! Chocolate chip!”

“Mmm, orange sherbet here,” Melanie chimed, giving Joel a grateful smile. “A double dip.”

As they headed for Baskin-Robbins, Jerica leaned forward in her seat. “Mommy, I need a rubber band. My ponytail holder broke, and my hair is hot on my neck.”

Melanie searched her purse without success. “Sorry, honey. I don’t have anything with me. Where’s your hair ribbon? Maybe we can get your hair up off your neck with that.”

“I lost it … at the game.”

Melanie turned in her seat to look at her daughter. “Sorry. We’ll be home soon …”

“Hey, Joel?” Jerica pointed to the braided cord that swung from the rearview mirror. “Can I use your ribbon?”

Melanie hadn’t asked Joel about the cord since the first night he’d sidestepped her questions, and neither had he volunteered any information.
She was curious and waited with interest to see what his response would be.

He fingered the cord, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “Sorry, Jerica, but this is kind of special to me. Maybe they’ll loan us a rubber band at the ice cream store.”

“Just what
is
so special about this mysterious red ribbon?” Melanie ventured after Jerica was occupied again, singing to herself in the backseat. “You said it reminds you of a Bible verse?”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze. “It … It’s just a Scripture passage that has been a comfort to me.”

“Oh?”

His silence was deafening.

“Any chance you’re going to let me in on this secret verse?” she pressed, attempting a light tone.

He reached over and patted her knee. “I’ll tell you someday, I promise.” He met her gaze, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and somewhere in the back of her mind a tiny alarm went off.

After Jerica had been tucked into bed, Melanie and Joel sat on the deck in her backyard, sipping iced tea and watching a hundred fireflies flicker in the branches of the mimosa trees. Two citronella candles gave off a pungent scent that kept the mosquitoes at bay.

Melanie kicked off her sandals, leaned back in her chair, and propped her suntanned legs on the umbrella table. “Thanks for cheering Jerica up, Joel,” she ventured. “I never dreamed preschool sports could be so cutthroat.”

“She’ll get thicker skin after a while. It’s a good lesson, though: You can’t always be a winner.”

“I’m afraid she hasn’t been allowed to lose very often. Between Erika and Jerry and me, she’s always gotten just about everything she ever wanted.”

“She’s a great kid, Melanie. And you’re a good mom. I don’t think she’s spoiled rotten. Just … loved an awful lot.”

“None of us really mean to spoil her, but … well, I guess we’re all trying to make up for the fact that she doesn’t have a daddy. Jerry’s great with her, but he dotes on her a little too much. I wish my dad and my brother lived closer. Matt is such a great dad to his two little guys. And Jerica adores him. I wish you could meet him, Joel.”

“I’m sure I will someday.”

“You know, I was thinking … maybe sometime … when I have business in New York, you could fly out with me. You could meet Matt and Karly and maybe even drive up to Connecticut to see Tim—” She stopped short, afraid her suggestion might seem too forward.