Romance for Matthew (8 page)

"That's about the ugliest thing I've ever seen," he yelled as he approached.

"No rest for the wicked," Matthew quipped, as they finished it up.

"I think it's beautiful," Bethany said proudly. "We just have to fire it then paint it."

"What is it?" Nat said doubtfully.

"Um," she thought for a minute, "well, we hadn't really gotten to that part yet. I guess it's a planter."

"Right," he said dryly. "For itty-bitty seeds."

She laughed and took off her apron. "I'd better go now."

After she'd left, Matthew realized he wouldn't see her for two more days, and he felt let down as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

"You okay?" Nat asked him
, helping him with the process.

"I just won't see her for two days. I get used to her being around." He felt for the dish towel and dried his hands.

"Why don't you ask her out?"

"You just gave me an idea. Thanks Nat."

Nat shrugged. "Anytime, my friend."

That evening, after feeding Jacob and putting him to bed,
Bethany
sat in the rocking chair. Her sister had gone to a meeting and her mother was visiting a friend. The house was silent, and Bethany thought these were the moments she dreaded. The loneliness set in on her then, and her tears began and didn't let up until her cell phone rang.

Wiping her eyes, she answered.

"Bethany, it's Matthew."

"Yes. Hi. Is anything wrong?"

"No. I just wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?"

He hesitated.

"Don't tell me our pot fell apart," she said with a laugh.

She could tell he was smiling as he said, "No. It's all still in one piece. I'm not sure if that's good or bad news."

They both laughed at that.

"I just wanted to ask if you might like to go with me to church on Sunday," he said, finally.

She thought for a few seconds. "As I told you, I haven't been to church since...well for quite a long time."

"He's still there," he said quietly. "God's still there. And I imagine quite a few people who would love to see the little baby they've been praying for."

"I suppose so. Would you pick me up?"

"Absolutely. I'm having Ollie install a special baby seat. And you have Jacob's little helmet?"

"I can't thank you enough for that," she said gratefully. "He looks a bit like an astronaut but he doesn't seem to mind it."

"All right. It's settled then. We'll go to the 10:30 service. That will give you time to get him ready."

But Sunday arrived and Jacob was not happy, just generally fussing. Bethany almost called to cancel, but her mother talked her out of it.

Ollie came to the door and helped her out with Jacob, as well as fastening him to the baby seat and loading his diaper bag in the trunk.

"He's not a happy camper," she said to Matthew as she sat next to him and fastened her seatbelt.

She thought Matthew looked very handsome in a three piece black suit and patterned tie.

"If he's too bad, I can hold him in the outer garden on a bench," he said.

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that," she said.

He just smiled, and reached over to hold Jacob's little hand.

They arrived a bit early, and the parishioners came up one by one to introduce themselves to her and admire little Jacob's white shirt and vest with matching pants.

"I think he'll be okay without the helmet here," she said as she held Jacob against her shoulder, bouncing him up and down.

Bethany was surprised, as Matthew seemed to know almost all the parishioners by their voices.

Soon, they were ready to go inside the church. She took a deep breath and followed Matthew and Ollie. "Here's your bag, then," Ollie said, handing her the diaper bag as she sat down.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She wasn't quite prepared for her profound feelings at entering the church again after six months. Matthew sat next to her, and patted her hand. Her tears started then and she wiped them away with Jacob's little cloth. "Oh, I just don't know if I can do this," she told Matthew, as she looked up at the stained glass windows.

"Would you like me to hold the baby?" he asked, as Jacob fretted in her arms.

"No, that's all right," she said.

Soon, the service began, but Matthew told her to just sit when the rest stood, because of Jacob in her arms. The Lutheran service touched her, but when the sermon began, Jacob really fussed.

Matthew reached over, and picked him up. Jacob giggled, smiled then, and said, "Paaaa," really loudly, and his cry echoed in the church, as the parishioners looked on and smiled at the baby. And, as Matthew held and rocked him, Jacob nodded then fell fast asleep.

The pastor seemed to focus, Bethany thought, on the Gospel, According to Luke, as he said, "Ask and it shall be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened for you."

She couldn't help wondering what on earth was at the other side of her doorway. She'd asked so many times, and it seemed as if everything she loved was taken from her, or ruined in some way, as her tears just kept coming.

Matthew listened to Bethany crying, and knew she was in pain, but it was a mental pain, and unlike her child, all the helmets in the world couldn't protect her from it. He felt the baby, sagging against him, a dead-weight, but he loved the feel of Jacob and his pure baby smell and funny way about his outburst. Patting the baby's back, he thought what a little miracle the boy was and how fortunate Bethany was to have him. A little of her husband to always have, and always love. He wondered if she knew how fortunate she really was.

Matthew had been alone for many years. But with Bethany and the baby, he felt complete.

And he remembered Nat's words the day before when they'd discussed Bethany. He'd said, "Man, you don't know her, really. Try not to fall too fast too hard. You might get hurt."

He knew his friend was right. But just the idea of not having Bethany around him threw him into a panic.

Chapter 6

Bethany pulled up to Matthew's house on Monday, and saw an unfamiliar black sedan in the driveway.

When she walked into the den, Matthew was talking to a man she'd never seen before. He was somewhere in his thirties, she thought, thin, with brown hair and a nice smile.

"This is Donny Smith with the IRS," Matthew said, turning towards her.

Her heart dropped at that news. "But I'm not done with the reconciliations yet."

The man must have heard the stress in her voice. "I'm only here to assist," he said smoothly, "not to prosecute anyone. Just tell me what you're looking for and I'll find it."

But she was still feeling territorial about her work, and she frowned, a bit upset with Matthew for calling the man in. "I see," she said slowly, as she placed her briefcase on her desk. "Just give me a minute here and I can tell you."

She could feel Matthew looking in her direction questioningly, but she didn't turn towards him, instead booted up her computer and searched around for the files she'd been working on.

Ollie came in then with a good-sized portable table and folding chair for the man.

Matthew sat in his chair while he listened to them.

"This year," she said, "I've figured out. She wrote checks into cost of sales. Ten thousand one-hundred total." Bethany stood and put the files in front of the man, Donny. But he looked up at her with somewhat of a forward manner that she disliked instantly. He watched her appraisingly, and his eyes roved up and down her body. And she knew he was so very aware that Matthew couldn't see what was going on.

"I'll look it over," he said in a normal tone of voice, and she thought the ironic thing was that he was looking her over at the same time.

She tried to concentrate on her work in the morning, but felt the man's eyes on her almost the whole time. She knew she should tell him to stop, but she wasn't sure how. He was not saying anything, so she couldn't involve Matthew, who just sat with his earphones on.

Nat breezed in just before lunch, making her laugh with funny comments on the rabbits that had started inhabiting the barn recently.

Matthew said, "Can we offer you lunch, Donny?"

Her feelings plunged again at the man's quick 'Yes' and she raised her eyebrows at Nat. "Join us?" she asked.

"Sure. Why do you think I'm here? Couldn't be for Matthew's company."

"Well in that case, you have to starve," Matthew said, laughing.

Nat looked at Donny. "Is this a reportable lunch expense? I have my own business."

The man laughed but said nothing as he still stared at her.

Nat wasn't sure what was going on, but he just watched Bethany and thought he'd never seen her so nervous and jumpy.

And all during lunch, she seemed preoccupied, while the IRS agent checked her out. So, he thought, that was it. The man was coming onto her. Bull, he thought, as he tried to joke and break up the tension filled atmosphere.

But, in the end, he couldn't think of a way to break the man's train of thought, so he sent a voice message to Matthew. "Hey, my man, you need to keep...I mean listen for that IRS guy. I get the feeling he's making Bethany uncomfortable. He was looking at her all during lunch. Anyway, call me if you have any questions."

Five minutes after he'd sent the voicemail, Matthew called him.

"What's going on, Nat?"

"Can't explain it. He's just checking her out too much. Could you get rid of him somehow?"

"I don't know how," Matthew said with a sigh. "But, I can try to hurry him up. I'd better get back in there now. Thanks, Nat."

In the afternoon, after she'd called a fourth time to check on Jacob, she noticed Matthew stood in front of her desk, sometimes just lounging, other times asking her questions about the various years. His presence made her feel more at ease, as she tried to reconcile the years quickly. But, it was a slow process, and eventually he went back to his desk. She noticed he didn't wear his earphones after that.

The next day, she saw Donny's car was in front again. And, to make matters worse, Matthew told her to wear jeans for some reason, and the only pair she could find were a bit snug on her. It was one of the few times in the past year when she hoped she actually looked fat in them.

But from the look the agent gave her when she walked in, she knew he liked the jeans as his eyes rolled up and down her.

"How's Jacob?" Matthew asked her, as he sat at his desk.

"He's wonderful. Still trying to turn over, but he just can't seem to make it," she laughed.

"You have a kid?" Donny asked.

"Yes. A boy named Jacob." She answered quickly.

"Got a picture of him?" he said.

"No. Sorry. I left it at home." And she realized Matthew would know she was lying then, as she always carried a picture of Jacob to show people.

After she was settled, Donny asked for a particular year and said he could help her reconcile it. But when he came behind her desk to retrieve it, she pushed back in her desk chair. "I'll bring it to you," she snapped.

But he was undaunted, just stood there so close, she could smell his strong aftershave.

She searched her desk and came up with the bank statements and financials. "Knock yourself out," she said.

He took his time looking everything over, the statements from the bank matched to the financials, edging closer to her chair, until he was finally leaning against her, with his thigh against her chair. She felt utterly trapped and decided she needed the direct approach. "Can you please move? I'm getting claustrophobic here."

Matthew heard the tone in her voice, and his head bounced up, while he rose and felt his way to the front of her desk. "Do you have everything you need from her?" he asked Donny.

"Yeah," the man said, moving back to the table, "got it."

And it went on that way for most of the day, until around two o'clock, Matthew told her to meet him in the kitchen. "What's up?" she said, as she walked in and said hello to Sarah.

"We're going horse-back riding," he said with a smile.

"I'm ready," she said, relieved at the thought of getting fresh air and also away from the over-eager IRS agent.

They met Ollie and a stable-hand at the barn and Matthew swung himself expertly up into the saddle on a large black horse, while Ollie showed her a smaller black and white mare. She made it up on the horse at the second try, laughing the whole time.

Mutty accompanied them, off leash, sometimes barking loudly, and she thought he was rather herding the horses and letting them know which direction to turn.