Loving Tenderness (6 page)

Hannah concentrated on pouring the milk into her coffee before she answered. “I’m not sure
ready
is the word, but I am grateful. I used to love making candy, and it was pretty good if I do say so myself. Good candy has to do with temperature and consistency—but it’s been years. Jack didn’t—”

Andrew tightened his jaw, seeing the look on her face. Jack had destroyed her creativity, her security, her life.

“I’m grateful for Jenni’s job offer, and I’ll be fine once I get started again.”

Her expression grew serious with the conversation, but Andrew had gotten stuck on the sentence about Jack that she’d cut short. Again he was curious, but didn’t ask.

As quickly as her face brightened, it faded again. “I’ll have to tell Jenni about Jack. It’s only fair.”

Andrew wondered about the wisdom of telling Jenni. He knew Jenni Bronski from church, and the resort had ordered her chocolates for special events, but she might not be as willing to deal with those kinds of problems as Claire would be. Maybe if Hannah waited until she’d
established herself at the candy shop. He opened his mouth to caution her.

“You probably think I should wait, but I’d rather get it over with. I can always go back to the salon if need be.”

Andrew put a cap on his thought. “You do whatever you have to.” He rested against the chair back, sensing her resistance.

Silence fell between them while Andrew recalled something he’d thought about earlier that day. “When I stopped by the church this morning to meet the guys, I noticed a flyer about our congregational picnic. It’s the Sunday before Memorial Day.”

She didn’t respond, and he figured her mind was still tangled around talking with Jenni.

“Do you like picnics?”

She raised her head and looked at him. “It depends.”

Her comment stymied him for a moment.

Then she chuckled. “I remember church picnics when I was a kid. They were fun. The kids ran races. I remember the bag race and carrying eggs on a spoon. My neighbors were a Christian family and took me a few times.”

That was another thing Andrew wondered about. She’d never volunteered information about her family, and he’d avoided asking. “Kids like picnics.” He lifted his drink and took a sip. “Do you think JJ might like to go?”

“JJ?”

“You and JJ, naturally,” Andrew said. “It’s held at the lighthouse park. Free hot dogs, soda and ice cream.”

“I’m not sure—” Hannah said. She hesitated, then glanced at the kitchen clock. “I have to pick up JJ in a few minutes. Annie’s been so good about entertaining him. I’m so grateful she and I have become friends.”

She didn’t give him an answer, and to Andrew the wait felt like an eternity. He sensed it was time he left.

“I’m not very comfortable in crowds,” Hannah said. “Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, scooting back the chair and rising. “I just figured it would be nice for JJ.”

She only nodded, and he turned to the door, opened it and waved as he walked out.

H
annah pushed the hairnet back from her forehead and eyed the temperature gauge. The chocolate aroma rose from the large kettle as nausea overcame her. She’d been stressed out since testifying at Jack’s court proceeding, close to three weeks before and it was too early in the day to cope with the candy’s pungent odor.

Knowing the pot needed only a couple of more minutes, she moved to the next burner and tilted the thermometer so she could read the degrees. She gave the chocolate pellets a stir, sure they needed more time, then crossed the room away from the heat. She’d become confident with the new job since she’d begun employment there a week earlier.

Perspiration beaded her temples as she waited for the chocolate to melt. Though the kitchen was air-conditioned, the temperature from the outside and the large ranges thwarted the air conditioner’s effectiveness.

Hannah wandered into the alcove and opened the freezer, swinging it back and forth for air while the late-May sun hammered against the windows.

Closing the freezer door, she shifted to the counter across the room to ready the chocolate molds. She paused to swallow the bitterness that rose to her throat and prayed she wasn’t getting ill. The queasy feeling had hit her around the time of Jack’s hearing.

As she worked, her mind sought refuge from the humid kitchen. She hadn’t seen Andrew since Saturday, but he’d entered her mind more than once. Why she’d balked at his invitation for the church picnic still clogged her thoughts. His interest concerned JJ and had nothing to do with her. Maybe that was the problem.

Hannah had no idea where her feelings began and ended. Andrew had stepped out of the night and become her knight in shining armor, except her knight’s armor was a cream-colored sedan. Her thoughts faded when she realized she’d chased him away with her lack of enthusiasm for his invitation.

Why hadn’t she agreed to go to the picnic? She didn’t like crowds, because she sensed she wasn’t as educated or as polished as other people, but she knew that money didn’t determine a person’s value. Andrew treated her like gold.

The scent of chocolate signaled her senses, and she hurried across the room, fanning herself with potholders, to lift the chocolate from the huge double boiler. Hot water dripped on her foot as she moved the pan toward the molds. She set the pot in a hot-water bath, then worked quickly to stir in the macadamia nuts and dried Michigan cherries. As she began filling the molds, Jenni came through the doorway.

“How’s it going?” Jenni asked, dropping her purse on a folding chair near the door.

“Fine,” Hannah said, praying the nausea would van
ish. “You can check the other double boiler if you would.”

“Sure thing.” Jenni crossed to the range. “Not too long now.” She wandered back to Hannah’s side and lifted the finished molds and placed them on a large tray. “I hate to admit this, but hiring someone to help out in the kitchen was a difficult decision.”

“Really?” Hannah said, glancing toward her to see if she were joking. “In this heat, I’d be happy to give it up if I were in your shoes.”

Jenni chuckled and glanced down at her feet. “Not these shoes. My feet are swollen.”

Hannah looked at Jenni’s ankles below the hems of her capri pants and saw a slight swelling. She lifted her gaze to Jenni’s smile.

“I’m pregnant,” Jenni said. “I can’t believe it.”

Hannah felt her face twist to puzzlement. “Why can’t you believe it? You already have one child.”

“Cory’s my sister’s boy. She died when he was three.”

Tenderness washed over Hannah as her heart gave a jolt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about Cory.”

Jenni stepped closer and pressed her hand against Hannah’s arm. “No problem. I love Cory like my own child.”

“He seems like a great kid, and I’m really happy for you and Todd,” Hannah said, still curious about why Jenni had been surprised.

“I have endometriosis,” Jenni said, answering her unspoken question, “and never thought I’d have a child. Learning I was expecting convinced me to hire you. I need to rest more than I had been.”

“Congratulations.” Hannah sent her a genuine smile. “I remember when I was pregnant with JJ. I was so ex
cited and amazed at all the changes in my body and my thinking. Being a mother is unspeakable joy, especially when you thought it was impossible.”

Jenni put her arm around Hannah and gave her a hug. “Now before we ruin two pots of chocolate, we’d better get to work.”

They both fell silent and concentrated on filling the molds and tapping them against the counter to dispel the air bubbles. After the chocolates cooled in the refrigerator, Hannah decorated the tops with a special mark to indicate the bonbons’ flavors.

But the longer Hannah worked, the more queasy she became. When she finished the batch, she headed to the bathroom and turned on the tap, fearing Jenni would send her home. Hannah needed every penny she could get in order to live.

She grasped a paper cup and swallowed some water, hoping to wash down the horrible feeling. Finally she drew up her shoulders and opened the door, determined to make it through the day.

When she stepped back into the kitchen, Cory had come through the back door, his voice enthusiastic about something happening at their church.

“It’s our congregational picnic,” Jenni said, noticing her bewildered look. “Cory’s getting anxious.”

Andrew’s invitation zoomed through Hannah’s mind. “Do you go to United Christian Church?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“No, I don’t—I had an invitation to go to the picnic.”

“Please come,” Jenni said. “It’s a great time. They have games for the kids and hot dogs. Even the adults participate in some games. I’d love you to come along. The people are so nice.”

“Andrew Somerville invited me.” Hannah let the words fly, wondering what Jenni would say.

She didn’t react. “Then you should join us. The picnic’s next Sunday. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t make it.”

Hannah grinned and lifted the decorator bag filled with white chocolate, then made the signature design on the candies. Andrew hadn’t called her since his invitation, and she wondered if he would.

JJ sprang across the kitchen door, and Hannah grabbed the jamb to keep from tripping over him. “Slow down.” She grasped his shoulder and drew him to her side. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, a bright smile on his face. “We’re going on a picnic with Andrew. We’re going on a picnic with Andrew.” He sang the words over and over until Hannah wanted to muzzle him, but she also felt the surge of excitement followed by a hint of uneasiness.

By the time Andrew had finally called on Thursday, Hannah had convinced herself he’d never call again. The resort manager had gone on vacation, and Andrew had been extremely busy, he’d said. Hannah wondered if it was only that or was it her rejection that had kept him away.

Whatever his reason, she decided to attend the church function and enjoy herself. She knew Jenni and her family now, and perhaps she’d see others that she knew from town.

After accepting the picnic invitation, guilt had crept into her thoughts. If someone asked her where she attended church, she’d have to tell the truth and say nowhere. Though she’d attended years ago, when she’d married Jack, her life had become so unsettled and her
body had been so often aching with bruises she’d avoided worship. She’d avoided God, as well.

Hannah didn’t like to think about her old attitude. Before Jack moved out, she’d asked herself why God let bad things happen to good people. But today she realized that many times problems led to something wonderful. If she hadn’t walked out that stormy night, she would never have met Andrew.

Andrew’s familiar knock tapped on the door, and Hannah headed for it, avoiding another collision with JJ. When she pulled open the door, JJ was at the screen handle before she could invite Andrew inside.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” JJ said, stepping back to show Andrew what he was wearing.

Andrew stood, arms akimbo, while he inspected JJ’s outfit, head to toe. “You’re lookin’ good, JJ.” He lifted his gaze to Hannah and scanned her from head to toe. “You’re looking good, too.”

She felt gooseflesh roll up her arms. “Thanks. I’m ready, but I need to get the food.”

“You’re speaking to a man’s heart with those words,” he said, following her toward the kitchen.

“I made a pasta salad and a fruit bowl. Does everyone share or—”

“They share,” he said. “They have a long table where everyone adds to the potluck.”

“That’s what I’d hoped.” She opened the refrigerator and lifted out a large plastic bowl filled with salad and another with fruit.

Andrew grasped one container from the counter. “You’re feeding an army?”

“I assumed you have a big congregation,” she said,
picking up the other bowl. She felt nervous and despised the feeling.

Andrew went on ahead of her, and she paused to lock the door. When she reached the car, Andrew had already made sure JJ had hooked his seat belt. She slid into the passenger side and held the bowl in her lap.

When they reached the highway, Andrew glanced her way. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s been hectic as I said. I have another week of this before Ian returns.”

She hid her disappointment, recalling how much she’d missed Andrew during the past week.

“How’s the job?” he asked.

She filled him in on what she’d learned, but her heart wasn’t in the telling. She had so many things she wished they could talk about. Instead, they talked about truffles and bonbons.

Hannah saw the lighthouse glint in the afternoon sun as they came from behind a line of trees. Its red missile shape jutted above the long pier while waves glinted as they rolled onto shore and dragged the sandy beach back into the Lake Michigan water.

“We’re here,” JJ called from the back seat.

“Just about,” Hannah said, turning around to give him a smile. Seeing JJ smile so broadly was a rare treasure, and exhilaration soared through her. Andrew had not only been their knight that first evening, but also he’d brought new happiness into their lives.

The notion made Hannah’s stomach twitch again, and the gnawing feeling she’d had so often pressed upon her. She feared she’d developed an ulcer from the stress she’d faced recently.

Andrew turned into the park and found an empty space. He pulled the sedan into it, turned off the igni
tion and hurried around to unlatch JJ. As he reached the door, his cell phone sang out.

The call captured Hannah’s curiosity, and she feared he’d been called back into work for an emergency. She tried not to listen, but he didn’t lower his voice and soon she knew he was talking to his brother.

“Do you need me now?” Andrew asked.

Hannah’s chest tightened, waiting.

“Okay, but if you do just give me a call. I’ll tell everyone what’s up. Tell Jemma to hang in there.” He clicked off and dropped the phone into his pocket.

“Work problems?” Hannah asked.

He gave a quick head shake. “Jemma’s gone into labor.”

“Then you have to leave?” A twinge of disappointment followed her comment.

“No, but I will do this.” He tilted his head heavenward. “Lord, be with Jemma and Philip and give us a healthy baby whatever it may be.”

Hannah heard herself join in the “Amen.” It seemed so natural, and Andrew’s prayer seemed like he was having a conversation with an old friend. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

“They don’t need me now, but he’ll call if he does.”

“Should we go back and pick up Ellie? She’ll miss all the fun.”

Andrew touched her cheek. “Thanks, but no. Look at JJ. He’s already tugging on you.”

Hannah tousled JJ’s hair and gave him a squeeze. “He’s never been to a picnic like this before.”

Opening the trunk, Andrew gave her a wink. “Then it’s time he was.” He unloaded two lawn chairs and one of the plastic dishes, then steered her toward the folding tables stretched out beneath a tree, laden with sal
ads and desserts. The smell of hot dogs rose from the grills, and nausea rose in Hannah’s throat. The sick feeling dampened her spirit.

As people dropped by to greet Andrew, he introduced her, and before long, Jenni arrived. JJ had already found a friend, and Hannah’s excitement soared, watching her son run off with the boy toward a ring-toss game where the children were taking turns trying to circle the peg. A group of teens had set up a croquet set while the adults relaxed in lawn chairs in the shade of a large elm.

More introductions left Hannah in a whirl of names and faces she would never remember. The voices and laughter echoed above the sound of the waves splashing onto the shore.

The meal began with prayer, and soon families and friends gathered around the long table to fill their plates. Jenni, her husband Todd and Cory settled at Hannah’s picnic table.

Jenni talked about her business, and the conversation moved from chocolates to Bay Breeze, then the church as they ate. When the children became restless, the games finally began.

“How about a walk?” Andrew said, once the others had moved their chairs to watch the children’s competitions.

“Sounds good,” Hannah said, happy to get up and move around to ease her discomfort.

She let Jenni know they were taking a walk, and Jenni promised Hannah she’d keep an eye on JJ. Andrew took her arm and led her away from the others. He guided her toward the trees rising in the distance away from the water.

They walked in silence, and Hannah’s gaze followed
the dance of sunshine through the branches, mesmerized by the dappled design shimmering on the grass. The day seemed near perfect.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Hannah said, breaking the quiet. “I’m usually not comfortable with strangers. I never have much to say.”

Andrew drew back. “Why? You have a lot to offer the conversation.”

“Me?” His comment surprised her, and she faltered.

He slid his arm around her back. “Were you always shy?”

The sensation sent a quiver through her chest. His gentle touch surprised her. “I’m not really shy,” Hannah said, immediately realizing she’d opened a door she preferred closed.

“So what is it then?”