Tender Love Page 3

  “What kind of financial help do you have in mind?”

  “Nothing major. On my first trip to the grocery store, I spent more than what he’d budgeted for the month. I can get by with that, and he’ll never know, but Kristin should have some new clothes before she goes to camp. She’s a thin girl, but she’s quite a bit taller than she was last summer, and her jeans are too short.”

  “Watch the paper for yard sales, and take her to one of those. You can add a few new outfits, and Mark won’t notice.”

  “I also want to have a professional cleaning service come in and clean the whole house. He does have a woman come in for a few hours on Thursday, but she can’t keep up with all the work.”

  “A group of our church women has taken house cleaning as a ministry. If the family is able to make a donation, fine. If not, they clean the house free of charge. Talk to Mark about it—he’ll never know how much money you give them.”

  “Thanks, Betty—you’ve solved my two biggest problems.”

  “Let me warn you, Alice, that Mark Tanner is an intelligent man, and he’s going to realize soon that you aren’t an ordinary nanny. You should tell him before he figures it out for himself.”

  “This is only for a month’s trial,” Alice reminded her. “After that, I may tell him.”

  “If you stay there three more weeks, Alice, you’ll be hooked, and you know it. I’m your friend, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I feel responsible for you since I’m the one who mentioned the Tanners to you.”

  Alice laughed at her. “Hey, I’m a big girl now— I can look after myself.”

  Betty’s eyes were skeptical. “I wonder.”

  “By the way, who is Ethel Pennington?”

  Betty grinned at her. “So you’ve seen her, have you?”

  “I can hardly help it. She’s been in and out of the house several days this week, and Wednesday, she brought hamburgers and French fries for Kristin and Eddie at two o’clock in the afternoon. I took charge of the food and told her that we’d have it for dinner—that I’d scheduled regular hours and I didn’t want the children nibbling between meals. She was obviously angry, and Kristin and Eddie weren’t happy about it either, but I won that battle, for so far, Mark is supporting me. Too much of that kind of food isn’t good for Eddie. Dr. Zane said he needs fruits and vegetables.”

  “To answer your question—Ethel is a spinster who’s had her eye on Mark for years. She lives a few blocks from the Tanners, and as soon as Clarice got sick, she became the ministering angel. She intends to be the next Mrs. Tanner, and she’s working on Mark through the children.”

  “Is Mark interested in her?”

  “I doubt it very much, but she isn’t easily discouraged.”

  The night before Kristin left for church camp, Mark telephoned that he would be late getting home.

  “If you don’t mind, Alice, you can put the children to bed early. I don’t want them staying up until I come home.”

  She prepared beef stew, Waldorf salad, and hot rolls for dinner, putting aside enough food for Mark in case he hadn’t eaten before he came home. The children were quieter than usual as they ate, and Kristin merely picked at her food. As Alice cleared the table and filled the dishwasher, the children dogged her steps—she couldn’t get a foot away from either one of them.

  After her work was finished, she said, “Your father asked me to send you to bed early, for he didn’t know when he would be home.”

  “Oh, Alice, please don’t make us go to bed before Daddy comes,” Kristin begged, and Eddie puckered up as if he would soon burst into tears.

  “But he doesn’t know what time he’ll be here, and we leave for camp early in the morning.”

  Kristin grabbed her hand, and Eddie tugged on Alice’s jeans. “But I won’t sleep until he comes. When he’s late, we’re always afraid he’s not coming home. Please, don’t send us to bed, Alice. Eddie will cry until he’s sick.”

  Like a bolt from the blue, Alice suddenly realized that she’d misjudged the situation in this home. Her whole focus had been to discipline these children, Eddie in particular, and to build up their physical bodies with the right kind of foods and exercise. And while those things were necessary, suddenly she realized that, more than anything else, Kristin and Eddie needed love and security. They’d witnessed their mother’s slow death, and knowing that Mark was all they had left, their fear of losing him was overpowering.

  She’d been listening to her head and not her heart. Her conscience smote her, and she put an arm around Kristin and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

  “You can wait up for a while anyway. Why don’t you take your baths, get into your pj’s, and we’ll sit in the living room and wait for him? What do you and your father do in the evenings?”

  A smile lit Kristin’s face, and Eddie hugged Alice’s legs. “We play games sometimes or sit on the couch and watch television.” She giggled. “We watch the programs, but Daddy sits with his arms around us and goes to sleep most of the time.”

  “I should be able to handle that,” Alice said. “Up the stairs with you, then. I’ll help you with your bath-water, Eddie, and I’ll turn down your beds so you’ll be ready when your daddy comes home.”

  “Will you tell him we got ready all by ourselves?” Eddie asked.

  “If I don’t have to do too many things for you.”

  While she waited for them to finish bathing, Alice tried to think of a game that would interest both of them. As soon as Mark helped her set up the computer, she could provide many educational and entertaining programs for them to watch, but that wouldn’t help her tonight.

  Deciding there was a difference between spoiling and loving, she started downstairs. “Come down when you’re ready,” she called. She was mixing a pan of fresh apple muffins when they found her in the kitchen.

  “I’m going to put these in the oven to bake, and we can have milk and muffins later on.”

  “Oh, boy,” Kristin cried. “We’ll like that, won’t we, Eddie?”

  He nodded happily and tugged on Alice’s hand. She knelt beside him and smoothed back his wet hair, and he threw his arms around her and kissed her. The caress had a strange effect on Alice, for it lighted an ember in her heart that had never been touched—she had the first glimmering of what a mother’s love entailed. Her voice quavered when she spoke.

  “While the muffins bake, let’s play a game my sister and I used to enjoy. We’ll sit here at the table.” On the table, Alice laid a sheet of paper she’d brought from her room. “We’re going to draw creatures. I’ll start first.”

  “But Eddie can’t draw,” Kristin said.

  “Sure, he can. I’m going to draw the head of a dog, then you, Kristin, can add the body, and Eddie will draw the legs and feet of the dog.”

  “That won’t be hard to do,” Kristin agreed. “I make good grades in art.”

  “Ah, but there’s a catch to it,” Alice said. “Neither of you can look while I’m drawing the head, and I’ll fold over the top of the paper before I hand it to you. Eddie can’t watch while you’re shaping the body, and you’ll fold over what you’ve done before he draws the feet and legs.”

  Kristin frowned. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Let’s try it anyway. Each of us will mark where the next part of the animal is supposed to be drawn. Cover your eyes.”

  Alice quickly sketched an outline of what purported to be a poodle, although art wasn’t one of her strong points. She folded the paper so that only the edge of the neck was showing.

  “Okay, Kristin, you can look now, but Eddie keeps his eyes covered.”

  Kristin screwed up her eyes in concentration as she carefully drew the body of a dalmatian. Watching her, Alice deduced that she did have some artistic talent. When Eddie’s turn came, with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, he outlined four legs that could belong on no other dog except a dachshund.

  As she watched Eddie’s tiny fingers painstakingly creating the legs and feet,
Kristin smiled broadly, and when he finished and Alice unfolded the paper, Kristin laughed, shouting, “That’s the funniest looking dog I’ve ever seen.”

  The head of an aristocratic poodle attached to the spotted, thin body of a dalmatian, supported by four short, sturdy legs was amusing.

  Eddie giggled, saying, “But I did make nice legs, didn’t I, Alice?” He jumped up and down on the chair. “I want to draw a bird. Let me draw first this time.”

  They’d made three more creatures by the time the muffins were ready, and the two children were more animated than Alice had seen them. She removed the muffins from the pan.

  “Do you want to eat a muffin now or wait until they’ve cooled?”

  “They smell so good, let’s have one now,” Kristin said, “and maybe we can have some more when Daddy comes home.”

  “We need to share with Gran. Eddie, will you take her a muffin while I pour the milk?”

  He jumped out of his chair. “I want to show her our pictures, too.” He tucked the images they’d drawn under his arm and took the muffin Alice placed in a plastic bowl. She watched him a bit anxiously for she hadn’t seen Eddie go up or down the stairs by himself, but neither he nor Kristin seemed to realize that his behavior was unusual. She waited with bated breath until he returned to the kitchen, and although his color was heightened and his breathing accelerated, soon after he sat down and started eating his muffin, his complexion and breathing were normal.

  “I want to show Daddy the pictures, too,” he said.

  “Fine. Help me rinse our glasses and plates, and we can leave them in the sink. We might have another snack with your father when he comes home, if it isn’t too late.”

  “But you said we could wait up for him,” he said.

  “Well, I didn’t exactly say that, but if you do get sleepy, I’ll stay upstairs with you until he’s home.”

  When they went into the family room, before they turned on the television, Kristin said, “What’s another game you and your sister played?”

  “We used to tell progressive stories. One of us would think of a subject and we’d make up a story about it. The first one would talk for a few minutes, then the other one would add on ideas. We’d switch back and forth, changing the story content to fit what the one before had said until we thought the story was finished. They were make-believe stories. Think you could do that?”

  “I can do it,” Eddie said, “if Kristin can.”

  “I want to start the story,” Kristin insisted.

  They settled on the couch with Alice between the two children.

  “Natasha was a little girl, and she was afraid of spiders,” Kristin started.

  “I don’t like that name—I can’t say it,” Eddie protested.

  “Make him listen, Alice,” Kristin said, and turning a stern eye on her brother, she said, “You’re not supposed to say anything until I’ve finished.”

  Alice put her arm around Eddie, and he snuggled close. “If you can’t pronounce Natasha, maybe you can say, Tasha.”

  “Tasha,” he said experimentally. “I’m going to call her Tasha. Hurry up, Kristin, so I can talk.”

  Two stories and an hour later, Alice had learned a lot about her companions. They were both afraid of spiders, they were terrified of the dark, they couldn’t understand why their mother had to die, and they were worried about the future—especially what would happen to them if their father should also die. These revelations disturbed Alice, especially when she knew that Kristin was going to camp tomorrow where she would probably encounter lots of darkness and spiders.

  When the second story ended, Eddie said, “Okay—what’re we going to play now?”

  Smothering a yawn, Alice said, “How about the ‘take a nap’ game?”

  “Hey, Alice, that’s sneaky,” Kristin said. “I bet there isn’t any such game.”

  “No, but I’m sleepy. Let’s find a show on television that you like, and you can watch while I take a nap.”

  Kristin looked at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock, and we usually aren’t awake this late, so we don’t know what to watch.” Her face twitched nervously as she added, “It’s awful late, I wonder if Daddy is all right.”

  “I’m sure he is.” What could she say to calm the fears of these children? “Shall I tell you a story before I take my nap?”

  “Is it the kind where we talk, too?” Kristin asked.

  “No, this is a Jesus story? You know who Jesus is, don’t you?”

  They solemnly nodded their heads.

  “Once when Jesus was talking to a group of his friends, he told them they shouldn’t worry about things that they couldn’t change. Some of them were afraid they wouldn’t have enough food to eat, others didn’t think they had enough clothes. And Jesus said that they should trust God to take care of them and not worry about what might happen tomorrow.”

  Kristin and Eddie looked at her in mystification, obviously without any understanding of her words.

  “Take your daddy, for instance. Let’s say he’s had a flat tire on the way home, and it took some time for him to repair it. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kristin said slowly.

  “Then why should you worry about it? Or be afraid that something terrible has happened to him? God loves your father, and He’ll look after him.”

  “Then why did He let my mommy die?” Eddie whispered, tears glistening in his big blue eyes.

  God, I’m getting in over my head. Help!

  “Your mommy was very sick, wasn’t she? God took her to be with Him, and she won’t ever be sick again. Would you want her to still be here with you and hurting a lot?”

  “No,” Kristin said, “but why didn’t God heal her? We need her more than God does.”

  “I don’t have all the answers, but I know this— God could have healed your mother, but why he didn’t, I can’t tell you. We have to trust God to do the right thing, although we can’t always understand why He doesn’t do what we want Him to do.”

  “I miss my mommy,” Eddie said, his chin quivering, and Alice’s heart ached for the boy. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, now wet with tears.

  “I know you do, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back. So instead of worrying about things you can’t help, why don’t you be the kind of children your mother would want you to be?”

  “What would she want us to do?” Kristin wondered.

  “Oh, she’d want you to help your daddy and not let him know how sad you are, and try to grow up healthy and strong, and learn a lot of things. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Maybe,” Kristin said, but she looked doubtful.

  “Let’s learn a Bible verse? There’s one that says, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Could you say that with me and mean it?”

  Several times, they repeated in unison, “I will trust and not be afraid.”

  When she thought they had the verse committed to memory, Alice said, “Let’s turn on the TV and watch one program. If Mark isn’t home by then, you should go to bed.” When she found a commentary on wild animals that seemed appropriate for the children to watch, she added, “I’m going to take a nap—your father will probably be here by the time the program ends.”

  Alice didn’t really intend to go to sleep, but she thought it might induce sleep in her charges. When she awakened groggily, she slitted her eyes, noting that Kristin was lying with her head on Alice’s lap, and that Eddie was snuggled against her, sheltered by her right arm. Her arm was numb, and she supposed that had awakened her until she roused further. Mark stood over them, the remote in his hand, turning off the television.

  Alice flushed to have him see her in such close proximity to his family, and she sat up, her movement awakening Kristin and Eddie.

  “Daddy!” Kristin cried. “You did come home. We worried about you until Alice taught us a verse, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Then all of us went to sleep.”

  Rubbing the sleep
out of his eyes, Eddie wiggled away from Alice and ran to Mark. He clutched the pictures they’d drawn. “Look, Daddy—we’ve been drawing pictures.”

  “And telling stories,” Kristin interrupted him. She took Mark’s hand. “Come in the kitchen. Alice made apple muffins, and we saved some for you. I’ll pour the milk.”

  “Pictures, stories and muffins, too! I’ll have a hard time entertaining you from now on,” Mark said to his children, but his eyes were on Alice, and she lowered her lashes against his intent gaze.

  She got up from the couch, straightened her clothing, and pushed her hair away from her face. Since she’d arrived at the Tanners’, she’d been French-braiding her hair, but it was always disheveled by the end of the day. As the children ran ahead of them to the kitchen, she said, “I know you said to put them to bed, but they begged so hard to wait up for you that I didn’t have the heart to make them go. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

  “Mind?” he said, laughing. “I was being considerate of you. You’re supposed to have free evenings, and I didn’t want you to be bothered with them, after you’d had them all day.”

  “I enjoyed the evening as much as they did. Besides, they needed help tonight, so I’m glad I was here. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder, and she darted a quick glance toward him. The expression in his blue eyes startled her, and she dropped her gaze quickly, not daring to interpret what she saw there. Impulsively, Mark embraced Alice in a brotherly hug, and for a moment, Alice rested her head on his shoulder.

  Careful, Alice, don’t misinterpret his caress—he’s simply grateful to you for looking after his children, she told herself.

  He dropped his arms, and she moved away from him casually, saying, “I can warm your dinner in the microwave if you haven’t eaten.”

  “We had food sent in, so I’ve eaten, but the milk and muffins sound good.”

  “Did you have a difficult evening?” she asked as they walked companionably down the hallway to the kitchen.

  He groaned. “We met with a rich and very difficult client—one of the officers had offended him, and he was threatening to withdraw all of his assets from the bank, so the CEO wanted all of us there to mollify him.”