Loving Care (8 page)

Patrick shrugged. “That would be nice if you could. It’s not just my father that makes me think of you.”

That statement sent a jolt through her chest.

He held the cone, looking uninterested in the melting ice cream. “Coming home to Loving has brought back lots of memories.”

Christie had her own remembrances—times so difficult and confusing.

“Not the bad times. The good times,” he said. “We had a lot of fun back then.”

She couldn’t deny that. “We did, I suppose.”

“Remember the time we left for that wedding, and I guaranteed you I knew where it was.”

“How could I forget? By the time we got there, we were the last ones in the receiving line.”

Patrick grinned. “I never would stop for directions.”

“You didn’t like to ask for help back then.”

His look bewildered her. Patrick leaned closer and slid his hand across the table near hers. “I still don’t, Christie. I’ve never learned to ask. I even struggle to ask the Lord for help, and I’m not much better at saying things I should.”

She wondered if his words held a cryptic message. If so, she missed it.

“I’ve spent so many years trying to forget my childhood. I’d been hurt so many times. Felt abandoned so many times.” He caught a drip on his cone with his tongue, then faced her again, his eyes searching hers. “You know what?”

“What?” she asked, her voice knotting in her throat at the emotion she saw in his eyes.

“You were one of the only people I talked to who seemed to listen and understand.” He slid his hand closer and brushed her fingers. “That meant more to me than anything.”

The touch sparked up her arm, taking her breath away. “I—I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more, Patrick. I’m not sure I understood well enough.”

“Not totally, because you had such a stable family. But you tried, and that meant everything.” He
drew in a lengthy breath and leaned against the chair back.

The absence of his fingers against hers left her wanting more.

“I never told you this,” he said. “I was envious of you.”

“Envious?”

“Of your family. A mother and father. Something I never had. Every time kids came to school with home-baked cookies for the class, I felt different. I hated the feeling. When I brought treats to school, they were store-bought. Even when kids came from single-parent families, they had a mother. Their dad was the missing parent.”

Her heart ached and she could do nothing. She had no idea he’d hurt so badly, and she hadn’t known.

“My dad tried,” Patrick continued. “He really tried, but it wasn’t the same. Mothers do so many little things that fathers don’t think to do.” He looked at Sean and pulled a napkin from his shirt to blot the ice cream rolling down his arm. “See?”

Christie smiled. “You did good there.” But her thoughts drifted back to her own mom and dad. Patrick was right. Her father had slipped her an extra few dollars for her allowance and showed how proud he was with her accomplishments, but her mother had helped her become a woman. They’d baked cookies and talked about girl things. Each parent gave something different to her.

“That’s true,” she said finally.

“I worry about that for Sean. He needs a mom, but I’m not ready to think along that line yet. I don’t know if I ever will be. I’ve already botched up two marriages.”

Concern rose in Christie’s mind. How had he botched two relationships? “I realize we both have responsibility for our divorce, but what about your second wife?”

“She had some health problems. Diabetes. She’d had it from childhood. Things got out of control, and—”

“But you can’t be blamed for her diabetes and—”

“I can’t help but think Sherry’s death was God’s way of punishing me for messing up our marriage.”

“Patrick,” Christie said, leaning over to catch his hand. She held it tightly, squeezing his fingers to emphasize sincerity. “Please don’t say that. My faith has been pretty feeble lately, but I know God. So do you. The Lord is compassionate and merciful. He doesn’t hurt His children any more than you would hurt Sean.”

His attention seemed riveted to her hand on his, and Christie longed to pull it away, but she couldn’t. She wanted him to know she meant every word, and she loved the feeling of touching him. It had been so long.

After a moment, he shook his head and lifted his
eyes to hers. “I don’t know. I’ve convinced myself of that. It’s hard to think differently.”

“Maybe you should talk with Pastor Myers.”

“Maybe.” He wove his fingers through hers and squeezed. “It’s good talking to you. I’ve missed that.”

Her pulse tripped along her arm and thudded in her temple. “Please, don’t—”

“I’m not asking for anything, Christie. I’d like us to be friends if we could. I’d like that a lot.”

She held her breath and closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, Sean’s smiling face covered with chocolate ice cream filled her vision. He seemed the happiest child she’d ever known. Pulling her focus from the boy, she looked at Patrick. “I’d like that, but be patient. It may take time.”

“I have all the time in the world,” he said.

The heat from their woven fingers rippled up her arm and into her heart.

P
atrick looked at the calendar. August had arrived too quickly. He’d thought he had plenty of time. He lowered his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Yesterday he’d learned that Tammy had cheerleading camp so she’d be busy with school earlier than the rest of the students. Now making plans for Sean’s care seemed urgent.

He’d thought about Christie’s child care. After they’d talked yesterday, he felt better about their relationship. At least they might be friends. He could ask her about enrolling Sean at Loving Care, but Patrick wanted to wait and see if their reconciliation held up. He didn’t want Christie to think he’d mended their relationship for a favor.

Christie was great with Sean. She appeared to like him, but Patrick also knew Christie had wanted a
baby and he’d thwarted her plan. Now he felt as if asking her to care for Sean at the center was taking advantage. Maybe he was being foolish for feeling that way, but he did.

He checked the time clock in the storage room. His Friday evening help had arrived, and if he hurried, he might make it to Christie’s before she closed the facility. Patrick had wanted to see the place anyway. She seemed so proud of her success. He didn’t blame her. Out of curiosity, he’d passed the building a couple of times before he and Christie had smoothed over their differences. The center looked as if it had been a ranch house someone had lived in once, but the location made it perfect for a business. Right on a main road.

Patrick logged off the computer. The rest of the orders could wait until tomorrow, or Monday even. He walked into the restroom, rinsed his face and washed his hands, then ripped off a hunk of paper towel, blotted the water, and threw the toweling into the wastebasket. He checked his hair, ran a comb through it, and was ready.

After a quick word to the evening manager, Patrick slid into his car and headed toward the child-care center. He hoped Christie was still there and as amiable as she had been at the Dairy Dip.

Within minutes, he had parked and stood at the door. He pushed the doorbell.

When the door opened, a young woman scrutinized him a moment. “May I help you?”

“I’m a friend of Christie Hanuman. She told me I could stop by.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder. “May I tell her who’s here?”

“Patrick Hanuman.” He watched her face shift with interest.

“Hanuman? You must be a relative.” She gave him a bright smile.

“I’m—I—sort of. Yes.”

“I’ll see if she’s busy.”

She closed the door, and he knew it was her way of making sure he was really a friend of Christie’s.

A moment later, the door swung open and the girl flagged him inside. “She’s in her office.” She swung her arm behind her and stepped out of his way.

He headed through the doorway, guessing the room had once been a dining room. Christie sat at her desk and when he entered, she looked up from her work and rose to meet him.

“You finally made it,” she said.

Beneath her friendly grin, he recognized tension in her voice. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.” He glanced toward her desk, wondering if she’d been involved in dealing with a problem.

She hesitated. “Not really.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then brightened. “It’s a good time. Most of the kids are gone already.”

Patrick glanced at his watch. Five-forty-five. As he lifted his head, the doorbell jangled again, and
he heard voices behind him. Another parent coming for a child. “Nice place, Christie. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. Would you like to look around?” she asked.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”

She returned to her desk for a moment, slid some papers into a file, then beckoned him to follow. Stepping through the doorway, he noted a bright cheery kitchen. Small tables and a few high chairs lined the walls opposite the cabinets.

Christie took another door to the hallway, and one by one he viewed the playrooms where two children were still occupied with toys, and an area for naps, he guessed, from the multiple cribs and mats. The rooms were sunny and decorated to appeal to children. He grinned, noticing the staff members followed him with their eyes, subtle, yet curious.

“Really nice,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Patrick.” She looked pleased at his comment.

She led the way, and he found himself back in her office again, wondering what to say next. Many things filtered through his mind—how often he had discouraged her from opening a child-care center, how often he had asked her to wait for so many things, how authoritative he must have been. “Looking at all this, I couldn’t help but think about how much I discouraged you from doing this.”

“I remember.”

“I’m sorry, Christie. You were right. A place like
this can be successful.” Without thinking, he slid his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

She didn’t pull away, and her response gave him encouragement.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked, loving the feeling of having her close.

“I’m working on it.” She tilted her chin upward and sent him a smile.

The familiar scent of her perfume wrapped around him, and Patrick drew a deep breath, inhaling the aroma as if the fragrance would give him the power to keep going.

Realizing he’d held her too long, he slid his arms away from her, avoiding her eyes. He feared she might see the feelings surging through him. Patrick took another look at the room, then faced her. “How many kids do you have here?”

“Twenty-eight right now. I’m approved for thirty.”

“Then you still have room to expand.”

She shrugged. “Did you notice the new subdivision being built south of here on Hwy 31? I’m thinking I’ll need more space soon.”

“More space? You want to enroll more children? What if someone—”

Her face grew serious as she stepped past him. “I’m planning an expansion.”

He turned and followed her to a worktable. He
hadn’t noticed earlier, but a couple of blueprints lay open on the table.

Christie shifted them toward him and pointed out the features in a businesslike tone he didn’t recognize. Her voice rang with surety and reasoned thought. But Patrick hesitated. Why spend money now on a guess? Why not wait until she had to turn people away?

“How long will it take to complete the addition?”

“They said two to three months. I’m guessing longer.”

“I would wait on this if I were you. Fill your two slots, and then if you see the demand growing, go for it. I’d hate to see you lose…”

His voice faded as he watched Christie’s stance. She’d folded her arms across her chest and stepped back, peering at him with narrowed eyes.

“Why must you always do that, Patrick?” Her words crackled with emotion.

“Do what? I’m just suggesting—”

“Suggesting that you know my business better than I do. I lived with that for seven years. I don’t have to anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I just thought…” He moved closer, and she moved back. He’d blown it. Messed up their relationship again. His comment had seemed so innocent. He only wanted the best for her.

“If you want a friendship, Patrick, you’ll have to learn that this is my business. I’ve run it for the past
five years. It’s successful and respected. I don’t need anyone to tell me how to do what I already know.”

“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” He placed his hand on her arm, but she pulled away. “I’ll butt out, Christie. You’re right. You’ve done a great job here. What do I know?”

When she looked at him, her anger had faded, but he saw disappointment in her eyes. Patrick had allowed himself to slip back into his old ways. He’d never been like that with Sherry, but Sherry was different. She liked being the homebody, the passive wife, and he’d loved her, but he hadn’t felt the spark that he had with Christie. They’d fought and loved with a passion he’d never experienced with Sherry.

Ashamed at his comparison, he pulled his thoughts to the present. No matter how he’d acted, he did admire Christie’s business sense and her accomplishment.

“Thanks for letting me look around. Like I said, you’ve done a great job. I’m pleased for you.”

“That means a lot to me,” she said as her shoulders relaxed. “How are things with you? Your dad?”

“Difficult. He’s not well. I see the decline since I’ve been here this past couple of months, and I can’t do a thing about it.”

“I’m sure it’s awful. I can’t face the day when my folks begin to fail.”

“And there’s Sean. I’m worried about him. I have a sitter now, but she’s getting ready for cheerleading
camp so I’m looking for an alternative.” He’d opened his mouth. He might as well barrel along. “How would you like to up your enrollment to twenty-nine?”

Her eyes darkened, and he saw her internal struggle. She released a pent-up breath. “I thought you came to look around as a friend. You should have told me you were a potential customer. I would have given you the full treatment.”

“I came as a friend.”

“I don’t know, Patrick. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure I feel right about Sean being here. It’s sort of a slap in my face, isn’t it?”

A slap in her face? He’d never meant it to be that.

Christie felt her back tense when Milton slid his arm across her shoulders. She’d wanted to talk with him sooner, but he’d insisted they attend an outdoor concert. He’d been particularly sweet since he’d arrived at her house, but she hadn’t found the right time to talk about the topic that burned within her.

“Are you chilled?” Milton asked.

“No. Not at all.”

“I thought I felt you shiver,” he said, nestling her closer.

She struggled with the desire to pull away. “Would you mind if we leave?” The spoken words startled her.

“Leave?” His concern deepened to a frown. “No, if you’re not feeling well.”

He stood, and she followed, not wanting to explain her reasons. They hurried down the dark aisle between the benches. The stage lights faded, and the moon spread onto the shadowy path to the car.

Milton unlocked the door, holding it open for Christie to slide in, then he rounded to the driver’s side. When he closed the door, he sat a moment before speaking.

“Something’s wrong.” He shifted to see her, his face furrowing with concern.

Wrong
wasn’t the word. Something was finally right as far as Christie was concerned. In truth, the answer had come to her over a month ago. How could she commit to one man when another’s image brightened her dreams each night and tugged at her heart all day? She could no longer avoid the obvious. Patrick’s return had toppled her world upside down.

A yes to Milton would be Christie’s spiteful attempt to punish Patrick for remarrying and having the child she’d never had. But she’d stayed close enough to the Lord to know that vindictiveness was not motivation for a marriage. Hurting a kind, caring man like Milton was not her intent and was not what the Lord would have her do. She’d dragged out their relationship far too long.

“Christie, what is it?” He lifted his palm to her cheek and turned her face toward him.

“I’m sorry, Milton. I’ve made a decision. A decision about us.”

He let his hand drop to his lap as if he knew the answer. “I’m willing to wait if that’s what you need. I haven’t rushed you.”

“Time won’t change anything, Milton. You’re a wonderful man. A catch for the right woman. I’m just not her.”

“It’s Patrick, isn’t it?”

His question startled her, and a rush of heat rose from deep within her stomach and rolled down her limbs. “No. No, it’s…” She couldn’t help but tell the truth. “It’s not Patrick in the way you’re suggesting, Milton, but yes, he motivated my thinking.”

“What kind of rubbish is that?”

“It’s not rubbish. I don’t love you, Milton. Not the kind of love that makes a marriage. I admire you. I enjoy your company, and I’m grateful for your friendship. But I fell in love once. Yes, with Patrick. I realize that’s over, but the memory of that kind of love tells me that I can never marry you if I’m honest with myself.”

He fell against the seat back. “Then, I don’t suppose you want this?” He dug into his pocket and withdrew a dark velvet box.

In the dusky light, Christie couldn’t see the color—deep blue or red. Maybe black, but she didn’t have to open it. She didn’t want to open it. Her heart ached at the sadness she’d caused Milton.
Lord, why was I not honest sooner? With him and myself?
She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks and
drip onto Milton’s hands as he held the box in front of her. “Please forgive me.”

He felt the wetness because he withdrew the ring box and wiped his hand against his sleeve. “I had hoped…in time.” He clutched the box as if waiting for her to change her mind.

“You deserve someone who can love you fully. I’d be cheating you and myself if I said yes.”

“I know you can’t have children. I can accept that, Christie. And who knows? Maybe—”

“That’s not the problem. It’s me. It’s how I feel inside.” She pressed her palm against her chest. “I have to listen to my heart, Milton.”

He lowered his head and slid the box back into his pocket. He adjusted the pocket flap as if in slow motion.

“Can I see you?”

She shook her head, startled that he’d even want to spend time with her. “No. It’s best we just end it here.”

He sat in silence, staring out the front window while Christie ached for him and for her. Yet, she’d faced the truth. Even if she spent the rest of her life alone, she could never marry Milton. Seeing Patrick with June had left Christie feeling empty until she learned the woman was his cousin. Empty and aware. The incident had forced her to see the truth. She’d finally discerned that marriage without a deep loving commitment was even more lonely and hope
less than being alone. Every day made that more clear.

Then another idea had come to her. Annie’s adopting the baby had given her new hope. Christie had heard of single mothers adopting, and with her business well-established, she’d have time to give that consideration. Who needed a man anyway?

Christie uncrossed her legs, then crossed them in the other direction, waiting for her mother to return with the lemonade. Even with the air conditioner the August heat permeated the room.