Mixed Blessings (12 page)

M
arie worked Monday through Thursday. Sandy stayed with Ricky all day Friday, freeing her to go to the graveside alone. She'd been stunned when a florist's truck pulled up at her curb in the morning. The deliveryman handed her a bouquet of pink roses and babies' breath, tied with a blue ribbon. She sat down to read the card and bit her lip. “In memory of a wonderful man, one Luke would have been proud to call his father, and one I could have considered a great friend. Our love, Luke and Peter.”

“Why is he acting so nice?” She looked at Sandy with tear-filled eyes. “I gave him ample material last weekend to prove I'm mentally unstable!”

“You didn't. Besides, you deserve to be treated well. Call and thank him.”

“Sandy, are you nuts? After the way I behaved last weekend, I'm just waiting for Peter to plow in and serve up a sheaf of papers that enable him to take Ricky away.”

“Get serious! You didn't do anything weird at all. You were tired. You napped. Big deal.”

Oh, Sandy, if only you really knew what happened…that he'd asked me to marry him for the sake of the children…and I came off looking like a neurotic mess instead of a mature woman.

Sandy didn't know what she was thinking. Her sister blithely continued on in a gratingly cheerful tone, “Besides, if Peter tried anything like that, he'd have to give up Luke in the exchange, and we both know he'd never do such a thing!”

After the day passed, Marie knew she should call, but she just couldn't. On Saturday, she started to dial the phone but slammed down the receiver at the last moment. Had the flowers been a tribute to Jack, or a sneaky first step in a belated courtship? Was Peter using circumstances and tweaking situations in an effort to maneuver her into marriage? In her heart of hearts, she didn't want to believe so. He'd been straightforward with her so far.
But he wants Ricky badly—badly enough to take me in the bargain.

After Sunday evening service, Marie summoned what little courage she had and prayed Peter would be out someplace so she could leave a message on the answer phone and be done with it.

He answered.

“Um, Peter?” She closed her eyes.
Why did he have to be there?
She steeled herself with a deep breath, then blurted out in a single breath, “This is Marie. Thanks for remembering Jack. That's all I wanted to say. Goodbye.”

“Wait! Marie? Marie, are you still there?” He paused for a second, then went on, “I'm sorry things are so tough for you right now. I want you to know I'm not trying to pressure you into a commitment. We'd already swamped you last weekend, and I'm to blame for letting them all try to do the ‘Gregarious Hallock' routine. My proposal
was poorly timed and caught you off guard. I promise I won't pressure you.”

Lord, why did You have him pick up the phone? I really didn't want to have to talk to him. This is so awkward!

He seemed to accept she was having a hard time responding to him, so he filled in the silence. “Let's continue on with our weekends together—just quiet time as parents and children together. Would you rather have Luke and me come down there for a few times in a row until you're more comfortable, or do you maybe want to meet halfway between? You know, that might be a nice change, and the weather is perfect for it. I can check into hiring a beachside cottage.”

“Um, we have a little problem….”

“We do?”

“Sandy's going to an independent living apartment complex next week. Since she's not here with me anymore, it's not acceptable for you to spend the night here any longer. We won't have anyone with us at the cottage, either.”

“Marie, come out of the Dark Ages! I've promised I'm not going to try to have my wicked way with you. What's the problem?”

“It still sets a bad example. I can't do it.”

“We aren't even in the same bedroom!”

“I care about my reputation.”

In a voice heavy with frustration and resignation, he asked, “How far away will Sandy be? Can't she come home for weekends?”

“That defeats the nature of her program. Besides, it's out in San Bernardino. Her boyfriend is a trucker, and his route takes him by there almost every day. I have a feeling they'll be seeing a lot more of each other, and she's so happy, I don't want to interfere. It would make me sick,
thinking she might give up her romance because she feels obligated to stick around here for my benefit.”

He grimaced and grasped at straws. “We can have Anne accompany me. She's the boys' nanny. Won't she count as a suitable chaperon?”

“Can I mull it over a bit?”

“I don't think I'm supposed to give an honest answer at the moment. It would probably come across as controlling and selfish.”

“Think for a minute.
Is
it controlling and selfish?”

After a prolonged silence, Peter said thoughtfully, “Marie, I told you from the start that the boys have to come before any other consideration. My desire is for them to be together and for each of us to be with both children at once. I ache to be with Ricky every bit as much as I think you ache to be with Luke. If that makes me selfish, so be it. I think life is pretty tough for you right now, and worrying about what someone else might say or think is one burden you shouldn't have to carry.”

“I'm uncomfortable.”

“I'll reserve two hotel rooms. I'll even stipulate they have to be across the hall instead of adjoining. How's that?”

“It sounds like a lot of trouble and expense.”

“Not really. I have close friends who needed some highly specialized surgery for their daughter. I did the research and connected them with a world-renowned pediatric cardiologist. I have a standing invitation to stay at their place. They happen to own a nice beachside resort about twenty minutes north of Malibu.”

“It's midsummer, Peter. A place like that is undoubtedly booked solid!”

“I'll give them a call. I'll get back to you in about fifteen minutes.”

“Good news,” Peter said fifteen minutes later.

She could hear the excitement in his voice, and that made guilt spear through her for her lousy attitude.

“The Reccauts were so excited about you and Ricky, they blocked out a pair of suites on the third floor for us every weekend for the next month!”

“I'd rather take it one week at a time.”

“That's fair. Anne is willing to come along, so the proprieties are taken care of. Assuming we'll continue to do this, I'm sure my sisters will clamor to come along for the other weekends. I'll meet you there on Friday evening. It'll be about a two-hour drive for you. I'll send a map so you can find it easily.”

 

“So the map was all right?” he asked as he met her in the parking lot that Friday.

“Yes.” She looked at the truly unique building behind him. Huge plate glass windows reflected the palm trees and ocean, and multicolored tiled turrets with fairy-tale cupolas appeared in whimsical locations along the walls—as if a child had been playing with enchanted blocks. “Peter, this place is—”

“Great. You'll love it. Won't she, Luke?”

Luke was riding on Peter's shoulders, and he squealed several excited phrases of welcome to both Marie and Ricky.

Peter set down Luke, then hugged and kissed Ricky. “Here, Marie. I'll get your suitcase.”

“We're right on the beach!” She pulled Luke and Ricky together as she stared at the stretch of sand that glittered in the late-afternoon sun while automatically ordering, “Boys, hold hands.”

Peter pulled her battered suitcase and Ricky's small bag
from the trunk, then smiled at her. “So I see you brought Ricky's, uh…
h-o-r-s-e
along, too.”

Marie cast a glance at the stick horse and cowboy hat she'd smuggled into the trunk. “Your mom and dad—”

“Don't worry, Marie. Mom checked with me first, and I figured it was okay for them to send Ricky a little gift. Luckily, they've given Luke a lot of their love and time, but they've never gone overboard on spoiling him with junk.”

“Okay.” She sighed in relief. “I only brought it up if the boys got bored, but since it looks like we'll have plenty of fun in the sand, I'd rather leave it in the car. After seeing how fantastical this place is, I'm afraid he'll swing around and break something!”

“I thought the same thing. Luke's is still in my trunk, too. I just didn't want him to need
h-o-r-s-e-y
if Ricky brought his along.”

Marie traced the painted line on the asphalt with the toe of her sandal. “In a funny way, it's an answer to prayer. I've been asking that we'd be of like minds.”

“Amen,” he agreed softly. Peter then changed topics. “I have a feeling you're going to go nuts over your view.”

Marie guided the boys as they wended through the parking lot, over a charming bridge and crossed the lobby. She didn't say a word until she got into her suite because she was too busy trying to absorb the elaborate surroundings. Once she nudged the boys into the room and crossed the threshold, herself, she stopped and sucked in a noisy breath. “Peter! This is huge! It's decadent!”

“Not too shabby.” He tilted his head to the right. “Anne is in that room. She's got this evening off. I hope you don't mind sharing the suite with her.”

“My house isn't this big! Of course there's room. Be
sides, as old fashioned as it sounds, it's not seemly for her to share your suite.”

“Exactly.” He turned a bit, winged his elbow to the door next to Anne's and said, “That room is for the boys. The one straight ahead is yours.”

“And I've been standing here, gawking while you held the cases! I'm so sorry, Peter. Here, let me get the door.” Marie hurried across the plush beige carpet and opened the door. She'd been put in a corner room, so both a side and the back walls were comprised of floor-to-ceiling windows. With the curtains open wide, she got a panoramic view of the ocean and a blazingly beautiful sunset. “Oh, my gracious!”

“Almost as beautiful as you are,” Peter said under his breath as he passed behind her to put her suitcase on the bed.

Marie gasped and wheeled around.

He tossed the case onto the mattress with ease and took in her surprised expression. “Oh, come on, Marie. Your husband had to tell you how lovely you are. A man would have to be blind not to appreciate such a pretty woman. I'm not trying to seduce you. I'm merely stating a fact—you're easy on the eye. I have three sisters, and I don't think any of them ever objected to a honestly given compliment.”

“I'm not one of your sisters.”

A slow smile lit his features. “Thank heavens. I'm already sadly outnumbered.”

Marie headed for the window, as if she could walk straight out into the view. Entranced, she watched the sun-gilded waves undulate. “I seriously doubt your sisters ever succeeded in ganging up and beating you at anything important.”

“Ha! That shows what you know. Because we were a
secular family and my parents instituted a majority-rules vote, I had to suffer through a whole year of family folk-and ballroom-dancing lessons. Kate is the only one of the three sisters who didn't clobber my feet so badly that I didn't limp for the remainder of each week!”

“It's a shame you didn't grow up in a Christian family, but I gathered that Jill and Kate are believers now, too.”

“Praise God, yes. The three of us are praying for Brianna and my folks.” He glanced down at his feet. “But don't you pity my poor toes?”

“With your big feet?”

He gave her a look of mock outrage. “Hey!”

“Oops.” She gave him an owl-eyed look of innocence. “Was I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“That would be nice. If you can't summon up compassion or even pity, at least tell me you don't dance and won't try to manipulate matters so the boys have to undergo that particular agony.”

She abruptly turned back around and gave Peter a stunned look. “Do you think I'm manipulative?”

He gave the thought a moment of consideration. “I'd label you stubborn a whole lot sooner than I'd tag you as manipulative.”

In light of the fact that she'd refused his marriage proposal, she decided he was soft-pedaling the issue. She didn't want to press it, either, so she opted to take a lighthearted approach. “Thanks a heap, and for the record, I don't dance. I have all of the grace of a wounded buffalo, so you can rest assured your toes are safe from me.”

“I don't believe you for a second. I've seen you do some pretty fancy footwork to catch stuff the boys have dropped.”

“That's reflexes, not recreation.” She glanced down and wrinkled her nose at a smudge on the back of her
hand, then at her son. “Ricky and I need to wash up. Would you like me to watch Luke so you can have some time alone to relax?”

“Why don't we take the boys for a walk on the beach before supper so we can all unwind? They're restless from the drive, and you and I probably could stand to let the sea breeze clear out some of the cobwebs.”

Marie glanced out the window again. “Is the beach safe?”

“The stretch down there is well lighted. We'll stay close to the hotel, too. I saw the sand buckets in your trunk. That was a nifty idea.”

“We'll use them tomorrow—that is,” she hurriedly added, “if you don't have other plans in the wings.”

“Afraid of being manipulative?” He winked to let her know he was teasing and calmly set Luke on the floor after catching him bouncing on the bed.

“Perhaps.” She caught a touch of his playfulness and waggled her brows. “Then again, perhaps you'd better start worrying that I might be plotting something. This place seems like a set for one of Hollywood's medieval fantasy series. I might find a nefarious knight or a dragon.”