Never Again Good-Bye (12 page)
W
hen Wes told Laney that he would agree to marry her, she seemed calm and a little sad. He wasn’t sure why, but he decided not to dwell on it. There was no sense in waiting, he told her—since he feared changing his mind—and they applied for their marriage license and had their blood tests.
Caught in a whirlwind of numbness, he went by his church alone that afternoon to schedule a wedding date with his pastor. Brother Alan Caldwell, the middle-aged pastor whom Wes believed to be one of the wisest men he’d ever known, also proved to be a little too perceptive.
“This is a joke, right?” he asked when Wes had given him the news. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“No joke, Alan. It’s for real.”
The pastor leaned forward on his desk as a slow frown killed his smile. “I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
Wes shifted in his seat. “We haven’t been seeing each other for long.”
“Well, what’s her name? Where did you meet her?”
Wes hesitated. “Her name is Laney Fields.”
Alan’s face seemed to pale suddenly. “Amy’s real mother? The woman who took you to court for custody?”
“The same,” Wes said. “Our relationship has … changed.”
Alan studied his face, and Wes felt as if every lie in his heart sat exposed and ready for dissection. “Wes, you’re not doing this out of some noble sacrifice for Amy, are you?”
“Of course not. You saw her in court … well, she’s beautiful. There’s a slight age difference … I’m eight years older … but she’s had a tough life, and she’s a lot older inside. And she loves Amy more than anyone else ever could …”
“She’s definitely beautiful, no question. But she was merciless …”
“It wasn’t her,” he defended. “It was her attorney. He was the barracuda.”
“Still …” Alan got up and paced back and forth a moment, a troubled look distorting his face. “That’s only been a couple weeks. Wes, you can’t expect me to believe that—”
“I do expect you to believe it,” Wes cut in impatiently. “Alan, I’ve been in this church for years, and I feel closer to you than almost anyone in my life. Ever since Patrice died, you’ve been asking me if you can do anything for me. Well, here I am with something you can do. Perform my marriage ceremony. You do it all the time for people you hardly know. I’m asking you now to do it for me.”
Alan propped his foot on his chair and leaned into his knee, his brow wrinkled as he gazed down at his old friend. “But, Wes, are you sure about this? You grieved so hard over Patrice. Sometimes that grief can make us so lonely that we get … well … desperate to fit someone into the empty slot. And it’s only natural that Laney might seem like the right candidate, since she’s a factor in yours and Amy’s life anyway.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. It’s the right thing to do, Alan. I’ve given it a lot of thought.”
Alan stroked his chin but didn’t release Wes from his thoughtful scrutiny. “Have you given it any prayer, Wes?”
Wes couldn’t hold his gaze now, so he looked down at the clammy hands he held clasped in his lap. “Yes,” he lied.
As if Alan recognized the falsehood, he came around his desk and sat down next to Wes.
“Level with me, Wes, or I can’t perform this ceremony. Is she pregnant?”
Wes laughed then, taking Alan by surprise. The absurdity of the question was more than he could stand. “No,” he said when he was able. “She’s not pregnant.”
Alan didn’t see the humor and kept his concerned eyes on him until his laughter played out. “You know, usually when someone comes to tell me they’re getting married, they come together. I wish you had brought her. I’d like to meet her. She’s never even been to church with you.”
This was tougher for Wes to evade, so he shifted again and struggled for something that would satisfy Alan. “She’ll start coming with me as soon as we’re married. And she’s not here today because she has so much to do. We want to do it this Thursday. That’s when the waiting period will be up.”
“But there are so many people who would love to celebrate with you. Don’t you want to take more time, plan something bigger, something where you can invite your friends?”
Wes was beginning to get irritated. “No, Alan. We want to do it now.”
“And how does Amy feel about it?”
“We’re telling her tonight. But it’s going to be terrific for her. I can promise you that.” His eyes settled on his pastor and with sincerity, he said, “I want you to marry us, Alan, but I’m going through with this whether you do or not.”
“Just tell me why you’re in such a hurry.”
“Because I’m ready to get on with my life. And I’m ready to restore some normalcy to my family. Amy needs that.”
“Maybe she does, Wes, but that’s not a good enough reason to marry someone. Do you love her?”
Wes met his eyes and felt the hypocrisy and deceit in his heart rising to smother him. “When you meet her, you won’t have any questions about this. You’ll see immediately why I want to marry her.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Alan said. “Do you love her?”
Wes couldn’t escape those eyes any longer, and for the first time, he wished that Alan wasn’t so wise. “I love her as much as I can love anyone after Patrice.”
He fully expected for Alan to back out and say that wasn’t good enough, but instead, the man sighed heavily. “All right. I’ll have to accept that, if you can. But I do have one more question. Is she a believer?”
This one was tougher for Wes, and he shifted again and found something on Alan’s desk to fix his eyes on. “She said she would try to accept our faith.”
He glanced back at Alan and saw the hope draining out of his face. “She’s not, then.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Wes said. “You’re thinking that we’re unequally yoked. That I’m going against God. But I’m not. I really think God is the one who set this up.”
“God doesn’t work this way, Wes,” Alan said. “If it really was God, he’d give you time to get to know her. Time to fall in love. Time to make sure that you aren’t unequally yoked.”
“So what are you saying?” Wes asked. “That you won’t perform this ceremony? Even though I’ve told you that I’m going ahead with or without you?”
For a moment, he thought Alan was going to tell him that was exactly the decision he’d made, that it was obvious that God wasn’t in this, that if Wes went through with this, he was on his own.
Instead, Alan rubbed his face with his hand and with grieving eyes, looked at his friend. “If I can’t talk you into waiting …” He took a deep breath. Getting up, he went back to his chair behind his desk, plopped into it, and looked down at his Bible lying open on his desk. “It’s not always easy being a shepherd, you know.”
Wes didn’t answer. He knew where this was going.
“In seminary, they teach you all the right things to do, and all the things not to do. But somehow that gray area always gets left out.” He brought his eyes back to Wes’s. “If you were the pastor and I was sitting in this chair, telling you that I was marrying an unbeliever whom I didn’t even really love, what would you do?”
Wes leaned forward then and set his elbows on his knees. Dropping his head down, he shook his head. “I don’t know, Alan. I guess that’s why I’m not the pastor. All I know is that this is the best thing for Amy. And that’s the only thing that matters to me right now. But if you can’t do it, we can always go to the justice of the peace.” He got to his feet and slowly started for the door.
But Alan followed him and stopped him before he could reach it. “I’m going to have to trust that you and God have come to terms on this, Wes. And if you’re getting married, I don’t want it to be by some stranger who doesn’t even bring God into it. I’ll do the ceremony.”
Wes looked up at him, his eyes misty. “Thank you.”
“Now sit down, and let’s have a look at the calendar.”
Slowly, Wes sat back down, and Alan reached for his calendar. “Now, I assume you want to do this in the sanctuary?”
Wes stiffened. “No, not in the church.”
Again, those eyes searched him. “Why not?”
“Because. She wants to do it in her backyard.” The thought made his heart sink even as he spoke, for he believed in church weddings, but he wouldn’t mock God by standing in his house and making a false pledge of everlasting love.
“All right,” Alan said, marking that on the calendar. “We can do it wherever you like.”
Wes got up to leave, but Alan stopped him before he reached the door. “I’m gonna be praying for you, buddy.”
Wes couldn’t turn back to look at him. Gazing down at the doorknob in his hand, he said, “Thanks, Alan. I appreciate it.”
T
hat night, as nervous as kids about to break a heartbreaking secret to their parents, Wes and Laney told Amy.
“But why?” the child asked as she clutched her teddy bear to her chest—a security toy Wes said she had given up years ago but had found need for again just after her mother’s death. “You don’t even like each other.”
“Yes, we do,” Wes argued. “What makes you think we don’t?”
Amy gave a dry laugh that made her seem much older than her years. “Because you yell at each other when you think I can’t hear. And you give each other mean looks.”
Wes glanced at Laney, then down at the floor. “Your mother and I used to fight sometimes, didn’t we?” he asked quietly.
Amy shrugged.
“And when we were mad we gave each other mean looks, didn’t we? But we still loved each other.”
“But you and Laney never kiss.”
Their eyes met, then flitted apart.
“Yes, we do,” Wes said after a moment. “Just not in front of you.” “Why?”
“Because that’s private.”
“You and Mommy kissed in front of me.”
Wes leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. He had already reached a dead end with Amy, and Laney could see that he lacked the strength to manufacture more lies.
Laney set her hand on his tense shoulder, a gesture meant to comfort all of them. “We will,” she lied, “when we’re more comfortable with each other. It’s just that we thought you wouldn’t like it if you saw.”
Amy lifted her chin and leveled her eyes on Laney, her directness infinitely less intimidating than the silence she had given her before. “Why do you want to marry my daddy?” she asked perceptively.
Laney thought for a moment. Could she tell her that she wanted to be with her? That it was the only way they could all have what they needed? No, that would put too much pressure on Amy. And it seemed important for her to think this would be a real marriage. Could she admit the warm attraction she felt for Wes, despite his obvious resentment of her? Laney forced a shaky smile and found the only answer Amy would buy. “Because he’s handsome and kind and someone I like to be around.”
Wes’s eyes came up, measured Laney’s for honesty, and found it.
Amy seemed satisfied with that. She turned back to her father. “And why do you want to marry Laney?”
Wes kept his eyes on Laney’s for a long moment, and he seemed to search himself for the same honesty. “Because she smells good,” he said. Laney’s heart caught in her throat, and her face grew warm.
Amy wrinkled her nose. “Daddy, that’s no reason.”
He laughed nervously and considered the question again. When he brought his eyes back to his daughter, they held a gentle yearning, a subtle sadness. “Because I get lonely sometimes, baby.”
“And because she’s pretty?” Amy prodded, determined to find some logical root to their decision, some root that she could understand.
Wes smiled. “That doesn’t hurt any.”
Laney found herself matching his smile, despite the fulminating nature of the moment. Their eyes collided, drew apart.
“She’s not prettier than my mommy.” The words came out on a note of belligerence, and Laney’s heart tightened. Wes glanced at Laney, then back at his daughter, obviously at a loss for the right thing to say. “Your mommy was the most beautiful woman in the world, Amy,” he said softly.
The child’s eyes welled with tears, and she got up and went to the window, staring out into the night. “Sometimes I can’t remember what she looks like anymore. I have to go find a picture.” She wiped at her tears and turned back to her father. Her words came out quickly, high-pitched and fragile. “Is that why, Daddy? Do you want to marry Laney because you can’t remember Mommy?”
Wes got up and grabbed his daughter. Picking her up, he hugged her fiercely. Both of their eyes were closed, but tears still rolled down both their cheeks. Laney watched, frozen and excluded. “Honey, I’ll never forget your mommy. Never ever. She was my best girl.”
“Then why?” Amy cried harder.
“Because …” he whispered. “Because the hardest thing for your mommy was that she knew that when she died, you wouldn’t have a mommy, and I wouldn’t have a wife. She wanted us to have somebody, sweetheart. She never meant for us to be alone. If she could have stayed with us, she would have, but God needed her home in heaven with him. So he sent us Laney …”
Amy buried her face in her daddy’s neck and wept. Wes clung to her, allowing her the time to cry out her heart. When a few moments had passed, he whispered, “We want you to be in our wedding, sweetheart. We’ll buy you a beautiful dress, and you’ll look like a princess. It’s going to be good, honey. You’ll see. You have to trust us. OK? Can you trust us?”