Showers in Season (17 page)

The phone calls, letters, and signs from the ladies of Cedar Circle made the clothing drive a great success. Truckloads of clothing were left at Cathy’s clinic—the main drop-off place—and needed to be sorted. Steve had helped her transport them to her garage, where they would be sorted before they sent them to Sylvia. Saturday morning, Cathy, Tory, and Brenda met to finish the work.

Tory took great pains with her appearance that morning, overcompensating for her emotional low. Already, her pants were beginning to grow tight around her stomach, and she realized that she would have to go up one size at the very least, and possibly graduate into maternity wear sometime in the next couple of weeks. Ordinarily, that would have been fine with her. She had always enjoyed maternity clothes, and liked for people to know that she was pregnant. But this pregnancy was different.

Instead of the glow of joy, she felt the overshadowing of despair. She didn’t want people to see that she was pregnant, then
look into her eyes and see the sorrow there. She decided to leave her shirttail out today, hoping to cover the little pooch she wore like a sign in front of her. She took pains with her hair and makeup, as if they could distract anyone’s eyes from her stomach.

Cathy and Brenda were already in Cathy’s garage when Tory got there. They had a huge stack of clothes on a table and were sorting them into sizes.

Cathy gave Tory an amazed look as she came into the garage. “Tory, I wish I could look as good as you on my best days. If I didn’t know you couldn’t keep food down, I wouldn’t be quite as impressed.”

“Don’t be impressed.” Tory grabbed some clothes and started looking for the sizes. “I’m just tired of looking frumpy. Besides, if you remember my last pregnancy, I looked like I just rolled off my death bed for seven of the nine months.”

“I don’t remember you looking like that at all…ever,” Brenda said. She hugged her. “Everything okay at home?”

“Sure.” Tory’s voice was dull, flat. “As long as Barry and I don’t talk to each other, we’re doing great.” Tears burst into her eyes as she said those words, and she hated herself. She didn’t want pity from her friends, yet she couldn’t seem to say anything positive. She swallowed back her emotion. “So where are we on this clothing drive?”

Cathy couldn’t seem to switch gears so easily, but she followed Tory’s lead. “Well, I’ve run off some more posters to put all over town,” she said slowly. “Steve and I are going to go out to do it this afternoon. And then we’re planning to get flyers and go to soccer fields, and do what we did when we were raising money for Joseph and getting word out about the school board meeting.”

“So that’s how you did it,” Brenda said with a grin.

“Yeah, and that’s how she and Steve fell in love,” Tory said. “If they didn’t have a cause, they’d probably fall apart.” It was a cruel thing to say, completely unwarranted, but she couldn’t seem to stop the bitterness spilling out of her.

Cathy looked hurt, but quickly changed the subject. “Did I tell you Steve has found us a pilot?” she asked. “In fact, he’s
one of his best friends, and he has his own plane, and he’s a Christian.”

“Yeah?” Tory asked, looking up.

“He’s agreed to fly the clothes to León. I’ve e-mailed Sylvia to find out where they can land, and as soon as we get a planeload, he’ll take them on down.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Cathy said. “And he’s paying the expenses himself. He considers it a donation, something he can do for the people down there.”

“Pays to know people, doesn’t it?” Tory asked. “So can you handle the drop-offs at the clinic?”

“Yeah, it’s working out okay,” Cathy said. “It’s a public place, and somebody’s there most of the time. They drop them in a big bin in the parking lot. I think I can handle it.”

“I’ve put out the word at church,” Brenda said, looking up at Tory. “You weren’t there Sunday, but Pastor made an announcement during the worship service. People are gonna bring clothes Wednesday night, and I’ll just bring them home in David’s truck.”

Cathy was getting excited. “When I told my church they were for Sylvia’s work, people just started cleaning out their closets. I think we’ll have a planeload in just a week or so, at this rate.”

“And we haven’t even really gotten started,” Tory said. “I haven’t had time to send out the letters I was going to send to the churches in the area.”

They heard a horn honking, and all three turned to see Steve in his pickup truck, turning into the cul-de-sac. He was wearing that smile he always wore, that down-to-earth, everyone’s-a-friend smile, that had made Tory like him from the first time she’d met him. He got out of the car and walked up the driveway.

Cathy was glowing. “Came just in time,” she said. “We have plenty for you to do.”

He chuckled. “Put me to work anywhere you need me,” he said. “But I thought you might want to know there’s a soccer
game going on down at the field right now. Must be a hundred cars in that parking lot.”

Cathy caught her breath. “Really?”

“Yep. We can stick flyers on the windshields. Worked for the school board meeting, and for Joseph.”

Brenda waved Cathy along. “Go on with him. We’ll finish up here and close the garage.”

“Well, the kids are inside. They’re still asleep, but if you need anything, you can probably rouse one of them.”

“We’ve got it under control,” Tory said.

Cathy bopped out to the truck with Steve and got in. Brenda grinned as she waved at them driving off. “They make a cute couple, don’t they?”

Tory watched them until they disappeared. “Yeah, it must be great to be at that falling-in-love stage again.”

“Tory, you’re not envying Cathy again, are you?
She
envies
you
, you know. You have a husband who loves you and takes care of you so you can stay home and raise your children. You and I really have it made.”

“Oh, I know,” Tory said. “The luck’s just been dripping off of me lately.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could turn my life back to before I got married and had kids, when things were so simple. All I did was go to work and accomplish things, and come home and kick my shoes off and make plans for the night. Back then, I thought working was stressful, and before that, I just knew that college was the hardest part of my life.” Her voice broke off. “But all that was a breeze compared to this. No life-or-death decisions, no parenting mistakes that could change the course of your life, no choice that could make you forget why you got married—”

Brenda dropped her hanger and pulled Tory into a hug. She held her, and Tory began to cry again. “Honey, I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“There’s not a thing,” Tory said in a high-pitched voice. “Not a thing in the world. And really, there’s nothing to decide. I’m going to have the baby. I just have to make up my mind to be happy about it. I just feel so guilty.”

“Guilty? What do you feel guilty about?”

“I feel guilty that I’m not overjoyed about this new baby. I’m really no better than Barry. He’s a little more blatant with it. He just doesn’t want her to be born, whereas I just sit around all the time, wondering if she’s gonna be hideous, if people are going to point and stare, how embarrassed I’ll be.” She choked on her words. “I can’t believe this is me thinking these things.”

“But you’re still committed to having the baby,” Brenda said. “You’ll work through all that, and by the time she comes, you’ll love her.”

“Just like my other kids?” Tory asked. “Because I did have reservations when I was pregnant with them, too, worried that I wouldn’t be able to love them like I should, that I’d be selfish, that I wouldn’t want to spend time with them. And in large part, that turned out to be true, until I watched you and Joseph.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out roughly. “Oh, Brenda, I wish I was more like you.”

“More like me?” Brenda asked, astounded. “Why in the world would you say that?”

She wiped her eyes and wished she had a box of tissues. “Because you’re so positive and so patient, and when Joseph was in the hospital dying, you were still looking up to God, asking for his will.”

“Oh, you make me sound too good to be true,” Brenda said. “You know how much I grieved. How I begged God to stop it, to keep Joseph from dying.”

“I know,” Tory cried. “But you were so strong, and so sweet, and it changed me. Honestly, Brenda, I don’t know if I would have made the same choice about the baby a year ago. I don’t know if I’d have been strong enough.”

“Well, you’re strong enough now. God’s timing is always perfect.”

“I’m strong enough to make the decision. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to carry it out. Strong enough to do what it’s going to take.”

“Right now, all you have to do is be pregnant one day at a time, until that baby comes, and then you can be her mother, one day at a time, just like you do with your kids now.”

“I might wind up being a single mother,” she said. “Then Cathy and I really will have something in common. And the two of us will sit around and envy
you
for having a husband.” She tried to laugh, but it quickly faded. “Oh, Brenda, I don’t want that.”

“Then don’t let it happen,” Brenda said. “It doesn’t have to. Don’t forget the power of prayer. Sometimes that’s all you can do. I’ve been praying for David for years.”

Tory knew she had. She had prayed for David, as well. Seeing him come to Christ was the biggest desire in Brenda’s heart. Tory had never dreamed that Barry’s heart would grow hard, that he would put up a barricade between himself and God, that he would claim that the Lord was leading him to do something that he knew was wrong. “At least David would never want to abort one of his children. Never in a million years.”

“You can’t say what anyone would do until they’ve been through it,” Brenda said.

“Yes, I can. If they really believe what they say they believe…it’s predictable every time. You just can’t tell what people really believe.”

“I guess it’s the age-old problem,” Brenda said.

“Maybe it’s better that David is honest about his beliefs. He doesn’t fake it, or do a 180-degree turn when things get hard. If Barry had been an unbeliever, had never taken a stand on abortion, then I wouldn’t be so…so…miserably disappointed in him.”

“But he is a believer,” Brenda said. “And I know he isn’t faking. He’s just confused. He’s depressed. If it came right down to it, if you agreed to get an abortion, I bet he couldn’t go through with it.”

“Well, we’ll never find out for sure, will we? At this point, even if he changes his mind, I’m not sure things will ever be the same. He’s different, to me. And I’m different now. Not better, not stronger. Just different.”

“Don’t give up on your marriage, Tory,” Brenda said. “I know it seems like the right thing to do, but it isn’t. I’ve been disappointed in David. I know what it’s like not to have your prayers answered for your husband’s heart to change. I’ve mourned over David’s soul, and grieved over the fact that I go to church alone, and teach my kids their faith alone. It can get really lonely sometimes.”

Tory watched her as she went back to sorting the clothes as she spoke, and realized that Brenda was right. She did know some of what Tory was going through. “So how do you do it? How do you hang on, when deep in your heart you want a godly husband and father?”

“I hang on to what he is, not what he isn’t. He loves me, and he loves the kids. And he’s a good provider and a faithful companion. I’m happy with him, even though things aren’t perfect. And I trust God to answer that prayer one day.”

“I don’t have as much time as you have. This baby will be born in a few months, and I don’t know what that’s going to mean to my marriage.”

“I’m just asking you not to give up,” Brenda said. “Pray hard, and expect God to work. I can’t help believing that he will, for both of us. Maybe he’ll work faster for you than he has for me, since there’s a life at stake. But he will work, Tory. You’ll see.”

Tory let out a deep, ragged sigh. “I hope you’re right, Brenda. I hope you’re right.”

Later, when Cathy and Steve had passed out all the flyers they had at the soccer fields, and had spoken to dozens of people about helping with the Nicaraguan clothing drive, Steve passed the street that would have taken them up Survey Mountain to Cedar Circle. “Where are we going?” Cathy asked him.

“It’s just a beautiful day,” he said. “I thought we’d drive up Bright Mountain to the Point. I hear it has a great view. We can just sit in the truck and look down on Breezewood.”

An uneasy, uncomfortable memory shot through her, of one of her misguided dates trying to take her to the Point on their first and only date. “Isn’t that where all the teenagers go when their parents think they’re at movies?”

He grinned. “It’s broad daylight. I have exactly an hour and a half until I have to pick up Tracy at her friend’s slumber party. I just want to sit with you and hold your hand. Is that okay?”

She couldn’t help laughing softly. Steve was the last person she should fear. He was a godly man, much godlier than she,
and had already led her into daily Bible studies and prayer that had deepened her relationship with Christ. She knew he wasn’t going to take advantage of her in any way.

But some part of her resisted the thought of any intimacy at all with him, for she couldn’t help the niggling fear in the back of her mind that this was only temporary. Soon, he would see the chaos of her life for what it was, and he would retreat. Either he’d get tired of three kids who expressed themselves at the top of their lungs, or he would realize that her own spiritual education was much more deficient than he thought. He would judge her parenting, flee from her kids, or simply find a younger, less complicated woman to take her place, like her husband had done.

It was just a matter of time.

He pulled up to the Point, and even in daylight she could see why this was such a popular place for the kids. The view of the hills surrounding Breezewood was breathtaking. She imagined it was even more beautiful at night. He backed into a parking space, so that the gate of the truck was facing the view below. He opened his truck door. “Come on.”

“Come on where?”

“Let’s get out,” he said. “It’s a beautiful day. We can sit on the tailgate and listen to the breeze.”

It couldn’t have been more right if he’d brought along her own personal throne from which to view her city. In fact, she preferred tailgates to thrones, any day. She got out and shut her door. Steve opened the tailgate and sat down, and patted the place next to him. “We have a beautiful town, don’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah, we really do.”

He took her hand and held it in both of his, content to just look into the breeze and over the skyline of the small town below them, and the mountains jutting in the distance. “So tell me about Mark. How’s he doing in school? Any more bathroom episodes?”

She sighed. “Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but since you’re being so nice and holding my hand and everything…” She gave him a lopsided grin, and he returned it. “He came home with
the worst report card ever, in the history of report cards, I think. He’s flunking out.” She swallowed and shook her head. “I’m really so embarrassed to tell you.”

“Why should you be embarrassed?” he asked. “You know, he has two parents. It’s a lot of burden to be the only one trying to educate him. His dad ought to be involved in this somehow.”

“His dad’s not really involved in much of anything,” she said. “Oh, he has him every other weekend, but I don’t even think he’s home most of that time. From what I hear, he plays golf all day Saturday, and he and his wife usually go out at night and leave the kids there by themselves, or let them run wild.”

“His loss,” Steve said, and Cathy looked up at him, amazed that he could see through the tough, smart-aleck veneer of her kids to the treasure that their father was missing. “So who gets them for Thanksgiving?”

“I do. Which, of course, means that I don’t get them for Christmas.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” he said. “But since you get them for Thanksgiving, what would you say to spending it with Tracy and me?”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You would really ask me that when I just told you that I’ll have my kids?”

He grinned. “What’s that supposed to mean? I only invite you places when you’re alone?”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah, basically.”

He looked wounded. “I just thought it might be a good chance for all of us to get to know each other. My parents will be there, and my mom’s doing most of the cooking, and she likes a big group to cook for. She’s wanted to meet you, anyway.”

Cathy tried to imagine the possibilities, and wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Oh, I don’t know, Steve. I would really like to make a good impression the first time I meet your parents.”

“Well, why wouldn’t you?”

“Because of the kids,” she said. “I’m not sure how that would be. Remember the first time—and the last time—you took us all to lunch? It was disastrous. Annie kept wanting to leave to meet
her boyfriend, and when I said she couldn’t, she got up and left anyway. The boys were bickering and arguing with me…”

“But we know each other a little better now,” he said.

“And you like me anyway?” she asked.

He shoved her playfully. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Wouldn’t you welcome the opportunity not to have to cook Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Oh, but I would cook something. I couldn’t let your mother do it all herself.”

“I’ll be doing some, too,” he said. “But that’s the deal. My mother’s very offended when other people bring things.”

She shot him another suspicious look. “You told her about my cooking, didn’t you?”

He threw his head back and laughed. She thought it was the best sound she’d heard in a long time. “No, I didn’t tell her anything. She really just wants to do it.”

“Well, as long as you know what you’re getting into.”

He tightened his hold on her hand, and met her eyes in a lingering gaze. “I do,” he said.

She could only hold that gaze for a moment, before those fears of his fleeing assaulted her again. She looked away.

Several pleasant moments of quiet passed, and finally, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. As she leaned into him, he rested his chin on the top of her head. It felt so natural that it brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them back. How would she explain tears?

“So what are you going to do about Mark and school?”

She thought that over for a moment. “Being the third child doesn’t really play in his favor. I’ve already discovered what doesn’t work on my other two. Threatening to ground him for life doesn’t quite do it, and I can’t take away the phone or the computer, because he doesn’t care much about either one right now. So I’ve decided on something that he thinks is pretty drastic, but it just might work.”

“What?”

“I’ve decided to homeschool him.”

He let go of her. “Are you kidding me? How are you going to do that and work, too?”

“I’m not doing the homeschooling, Brenda is. I’m paying her to teach Mark at home. That way, he’ll be supervised all day and he’ll learn a lot. I respect Brenda tremendously, and I know she can do it.”

Steve gaped at her with amazed amusement in his eyes. “You know, that’s a great idea.”

“It sure is. Sylvia gave it to me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what we’d do without her. Even from so far away, she’s still dispensing her wisdom and getting us through these spots.”

“So when does he start?”

“Monday.”

“
Monday?
As in day-after-tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I gave him this past week to say good-bye to his friends. But frankly, I didn’t want him around those dope-smoking kids any more than he had to be. Brenda’s kids are celebrating. Even Daniel, who seemed to really love school. Their last day was Friday, too.”

His smile faded. “You’ve made all these decisions, and you never mentioned a thing? Cathy, you’re shutting me out again.”

“I just don’t want to burden you with my dirty laundry. I didn’t even tell Brenda and Tory, until Sylvia blurted it all over cyberspace. But I’m glad she did, because it gave me a solution.”

“You know, we’re not supposed to be loners, we Christians. We’re supposed to support each other, share things. How can we help if we don’t know what’s going on? People can’t even pray for you if you haven’t told them you need it.”

“I gave that unspoken prayer request in Sunday school last week.”

He groaned. “Give me a break. In biblical times, do you think people had unspoken prayer requests? No. They all lived together, grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, and they knew everything that was going on with everybody. It gave them accountability, but it also gave them relief. How heavy could a burden be when there were others to help you carry it?
Today, we lock ourselves away and put on that happy face, and hide our secrets even from our Christian friends. And then we wonder why our burdens are so heavy.”

The words didn’t sound like a rebuke, but an encouragement. “I know. I should have shared. It’s pride that kept me from it.”

“That’s understandable,” he said. “But I want to help you. I really can’t stand the thought of you struggling with this alone all week.” He tightened his hold on her, and laid his jaw against her hair again. She marveled at the comfort he gave her, the feeling of being protected, the thought that God had given him all of the things she needed, things that he was so free to share. She wondered if she had anything to give him.

“But for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” he said. “I think you’re doing the right thing. It’s a drastic step, but this calls for drastic measures, and you haven’t wimped out. You’re willing to take a stand to help your child. I think that’s great.”

It had been a long time since she’d felt affirmed as a parent. In fact, there hadn’t been many times in her life that she had. The tears returned to her eyes.

He reached down and hooked a finger under her chin, pulled her face up to his. She couldn’t hide the tears as he smiled down at her. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

She breathed a laugh and looked away. “You’re crazy.”

“Nope. I know what I see.” He pulled her face back to his and wiped away the first tear as it fell. “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

But he didn’t ask why she cried. Cathy knew he understood that the affirmation of her motherhood had seeped like long-needed sustenance into her soul. God had sent him to quench her thirst, and the realization of that sent another tear rolling down her face.

He wiped it away, too, then pulled her closer. His kiss was sweet, undemanding, unhurried. His rough, work-worn hand stroked gently across her cheekbone, and lingered there when the kiss broke. Looking up at him, Cathy felt as vulnerable as she’d ever felt in her life. She knew he could see right into her.

“Well, I’d better get you home,” he whispered.

She smiled. “Yeah, it’s almost noon. The kids are probably almost awake by now, and if I don’t hurry home, they’ll all scurry out before I can get them to do anything.”

“The birthday party is probably almost over,” he said, looking down at his watch. “I’ll need to be picking Tracy up pretty soon.”

But he didn’t hurry to get off the tailgate. “I enjoyed sitting up here with you.”

She smiled. “Without an agenda. So you think you and I really do have something in common, even when we’re not working for a cause?”

“Is that what you thought?”

She shrugged. “Tory mentioned it.”

“You tell Tory that what we have in common is a real intense affection for each other.”

Intense affection. It said so much, yet she longed to hear—to say—a little bit more. Still, she basked in that “intense affection” as he took her back to Cedar Circle.