Mixed Blessings. Cathy Hake Marie
want you to know it’s not my intent to make things harder on you.”
“You just want to make them easier on yourself—even though it costs me everything.”
“But you’ll gain seeing Luke every day.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she cried. “But I refuse to be reliant on your whims and goodwill. I can’t leave this house. Jack bought it for me. He was fixing it up on his days off. It’s all I have left.”
“Why don’t you look at me?” He didn’t understand her aversion to him. It stung.
Swallowing hard, as if trying to dislodge the huge ball in her throat, Marie confessed, “You look too much like Ricky. I love his dear little face, and when I see you…” She shrugged.
“It’s confusing,” he finished softly. He gently set the shirt aside and folded her hand between both of his. “You look so much like Luke, it takes my breath away. Because of it, I feel as if I already know more about you than two short meetings would yield. My impulses to protect, keep and touch you probably come from that.”
“But you can’t be that way. You can’t act like an authoritative parent and dictate what happens. I won’t accept it. It’s a struggle to wait for God’s will, but that’s far better than rushing to make decisions I’ll regret later.”
Peter’s brows knit in consternation that she still wore her wedding ring. After his wife died, he’d jerked off his band and known beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d never replace it. He kept Marie’s hand encased in his and slowly rubbed up and down the length of the back of her slender fingers. He’d barely kept his marriage patched together; Marie still hadn’t even let go. This woman honors her commitments at all costs. Such devotion!
“I don’t know what I want or expect,” she admitted. “I prayed for wisdom and guidance, but that prayer hasn’t been answered yet.”
“It sounds to me like that prayer was more for the situation than it was for the feelings and dynamics between us.” He curled his fingers so he engulfed her hand. “Until yesterday, Luke and I were just names to you. Now we’re real people. These things take time, Marie.”
She finally looked up at him. “If they take time, how can you want us to move in with you now?” She slowly pulled her hand from his grasp. “I don’t know you at all, and I’m not sure how to interpret this situation…between us, you know…?”
“What don’t you understand? This isn’t a time to mince words, so I’m going to be forthright. I’m financially more than comfortable, Marie. You and Ricky can simply move in and—”
Color filled her cheeks. “I won’t live with a man to whom I’m not married.”
Peter decided to ease off a bit. He’d come here with that one plan and it seemed so direct and simple. A business deal. They’d be platonic roommates who shared their kids. No fuss, no nonsense, no emotional attachment between the two of them. No chance he’d ever let her close enough to hurt him. Clearly, he needed to spell it out. “I’m not trying to offend you, Marie. If you thought I was using the boys as a means to seduce you—”
The faint wash of color in her cheeks cued him in that he’d just jumped feetfirst into a sensitive topic and needed to be a shade less blatant.
“Marie, let me put your mind at ease. I’m not suggesting anything immoral at all. Sandy would come, too. You’ll have your own bedroom—one with a lock on the door so you can have peace of mind—and I’ll respect your privacy.”
She signed deeply. “I still can’t agree with your plan. I can’t live with a man—even if it is platonic.”
Peter sighed. Bitter memories of his wife surfaced. Darlene wasn’t willing to get married at first. Neither of them had been Christians. Because he loved her, he agreed for her to move in with him for almost a year until he could convince her marriage held any importance. The wedding was more a formality and capitulation than a true commitment on her part. It wasn’t until he’d lost her and started to rear Luke that Peter began going to church or paid much attention to old-fashioned morals. He wondered if Marie was as conservative as she seemed. He tried to delicately fish for information. “Your notions are pretty traditional. Have you always—”
“Let me save you from walking on eggshells. I’m very old-fashioned. I was twenty-two when Jack and I got married. We were very much in love, but we waited until our wedding night because it was the right thing to do. We conceived our child the second month of our marriage. He was a planned baby, and we were thrilled. After knowing the joy of a loving marriage, I’d never settle for anything less, so you can forget any plans for cohabitating—even if it is completely innocent.”
Peter fell back against the couch cushions. He gave her a lopsided, self-conscious smile. “I needed to know where you stood.”
“Now you know.” She gave him a wry look. “If you’re feeling that brazen, is there anything else you want to pry into?”
He spread his hands in a what-else-am-I-to-do? gesture. “This is a high-speed beginning. It isn’t conventional, but for the boys’ sakes, I think we have to hurdle over the usual constraints and forge a decent working relationship.”
“I’m accustomed to doing that with preschoolers. They’re a lot easier. They want to know if I have a pet and if I can hop on one foot. I’m not exactly the most coordinated person in the world, and you want me to jump hurdles!”
He chuckled. “Our cat ran away. I can hop on one foot, but I can’t skip. What about you?”
“We had a solemn burial for our goldfish last month.” When he quirked a brow, she nodded, “Prayers and porcelain. I can hop and I can skip. There? Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Not really, but it’s a start.” He gave her a boyish grin. “So far, I know you have a sister. What about your folks or Jack’s parents? Are there doting grandparents in Ricky’s world?”
“I have a stepfather, but he lives in Ohio. Jack’s parents are missionaries in Thailand. They write, and we send pictures.”
“So you’re doing it alone…unless you have a boyfriend?”
Marie blanched. “I’m not interested in dating.”
She looked like she needed a whole lot of space. He’d pushed her too far and gotten a wealth of personal information, so Peter decided to bail her out by giving her some basic information on himself. Reciprocating only seemed fair.
“Darlene’s parents aren’t involved at all. A Christmas picture is about all they want or expect. On the other hand, my folks are wild about Luke. Until now, he’s been their only grandchild. I have three sisters—all single and madly in love with him, too. I have one more sister out there somewhere. We still have investigators working on trying to find her. It’s been eighteen years. She was kidnapped when she was two. As for my personal status—I’m not dating anyone, either.”
He paused and noted how Marie stayed silent. Peter looked around her living room and back at her. “Marie, please forgive me,” he pleaded softly. “I know we got off to a ragged start, but I want us to get along.”
“I understand.” Compassion filled her voice. “It made me sick, exploding your happy little world.”
“You did the right thing. Why don’t we start from scratch? We can trade stories about the kids and ease into things a bit. With time, we’ll create ways to blend our families.”
Marie stacked all of the neatly folded clothes back into the laundry basket. “I’m not good at diving into relationships.”
He hunkered down and tried to take away the basket. “We have to make an effort to get along.”
She gnawed on her lip and nodded slowly. Her fingers released the basket into his keeping, and at that moment, he wondered if it was somehow symbolic of so many little things