Tender Love Read online

  “Her death occurred months ago. Isn’t that a long time for a decision?”

  “Well, yes,” he said, “but I submitted the statements a second time, hoping they’d pay something. I’ll mail the bills to Mr. Tanner, but I wanted him to know in advance.”

  “How much do the bills total?” Alice asked, knowing well enough that she was interfering in something that wasn’t her business.

  “About eight thousand,” he said.

  Poor Mark!

  Mark seemed more weary than usual when he came home, and Alice put off telling him about the telephone message until Kristin and Eddie went to bed. She’d gone upstairs to check on the children, to be sure they were all right, and when she came downstairs, Mark sat in his office. His checkbook was open on the desk before him, and he was sorting through the day’s mail.

  She paused on the threshold, and he gave her an encouraging smile. Her expression must have warned him, for the smile faded, and he said, “Is something wrong with Eddie?”

  She shook her head. “The kids are fine, but I did have a disturbing telephone call today.” She couldn’t look at him as she told him the bad news. When she finished and glanced in his direction, his head was lowered to his hands.

  “And I thought I was making some headway out of this mess,” he mumbled. “Alice, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Alice was of the opinion that he could cope with the situation better if he wasn’t out of fellowship with God, but this was no time for a sermon. The man needed compassion now, and without stopping to think of the consequences, she rounded the desk, put an arm around his shoulders and massaged the tense muscles in his neck. “Remember the night is always darkest before the dawn,” she whispered. “You’re a strong man, and you’re going to overcome these problems.”

  He moved to put his arm around her waist and draw her closer, but Alice gently released him.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she promised, as with misty eyes, she left the room and hurried to the kitchen. When she returned, she brought a steaming cup of tea. He still sat with his head in his hands.

  She didn’t touch him again, but she set the cup on the desk in front of him, saying softly, “I realize this is something you have to work out alone, but I want you to know that I hurt with you.”

  Alice went to bed, but not to sleep, for she couldn’t relax until about two o’clock when she heard him leave his office and slowly climb the stairs to his bedroom. What could she do to help him?

  “Hello, Alice,” the cheery voice said when she answered the phone the next day. “This is Erin Saberton. Susie wants to come and play with Kristin this afternoon, and I have a boy about Eddie’s age. Are you up to having four kids in the house for a few hours?”

  “Sure, if you’ll come along and help referee,” Alice said with a laugh. “We can have a cup of coffee while the children play.”

  “I was hoping you’d ask. We’ll be there at two o’clock.”

  When they arrived, the children went into the family room to watch cartoons, and Alice took Erin to the kitchen.

  “You can’t imagine how happy I am to see this household back to some sense of normalcy. You’ve performed a miracle in a few weeks, Alice. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

  “With a lot of prayer and patience,” Alice said, laughing, as she poured a cup of coffee for each of them and put a plate of banana nut bread on the table. “It hasn’t been easy to be in a home with so many people, for I’ve lived alone for over a year.”

  “You’re a widow, I understand.”

  Alice nodded. “But I feel that it’s right for me to be here, and I believe I am making a difference. You know Betty St. Claire, don’t you?”

  “Yes, we’re friends.”

  “She’s the one who asked me to take this on, and when she told me the need, I felt God calling me to do what I could.”

  Erin nibbled on the banana bread and complimented Alice on her cooking abilities. “I assume you don’t need to work.”

  “That’s true, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t noise that around.”

  Erin laughed. “Gotcha,” she said, and she lowered her voice. “Mark has needed someone to give him a helping hand for years, and I mean, even before his wife got sick. I know we’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but Clarice was never the kind of wife he needed. She was completely self-centered, resented the time he spent with his parishioners, and expected him to assume more than his share of home responsibilities.”

  Alice’s face flushed, and she said, “I had no idea! Betty didn’t say anything, and I assumed that all was well here before Clarice’s illness.”

  Erin shook her head. “Mark is such a giving person—as a pastor, there was never any request too insignificant for him to give his full attention. So when he came home, he needed a wife to love and pamper him, not one who acted like a martyr because he’d been out all day doing his job.”

  Alice didn’t want to hear anymore, and she was glad when Kristin stuck her head in the kitchen door and said, “We’re bored. What can we do?”

  Alice stood and cleared the dishes from the table. “It’s too nice a day to spend indoors. Why don’t we all go outside? If you’re up to it, Erin, we might play softball with the kids. I found a ball and bat in one of the closets.”

  “Probably the ones that Mark used when he coached our Little League team at the church.”

  Erin’s son, Troy, was boisterous and loud, and he intimidated Eddie, who hesitated to leave the house.

  “I don’t know how to play ball,” he said, reverting to his whiny voice that Alice hadn’t heard for a couple of weeks.

  “We’ll show you,” Troy said. He grabbed Eddie’s hand. “Come on.”

  Eddie pulled back, but Alice said, “This will be fun, Eddie.”

  “I want to ride horses, not play ball.”

  An idea had been forming in Alice’s mind about his fixation on horses, but she couldn’t do anything about that this afternoon. Alice lifted Eddie, carried him down the steps, and set him on the ground.

  Shortly, they had a game underway with Erin playing on the side of the Tanners, and Alice paired with Susie and Troy. Although timid at first, Eddie soon began to enjoy the game, until Troy hit a ball with a lot of power. The ball went straight toward Eddie, who stared at the ball, mesmerized. He didn’t move, and it hit him in the stomach—hard. Eddie toppled over like a felled tree.

  Alice ran to Eddie, her heart thumping big time. “Is he dead, Alice?” Kristin screamed, and at that inopportune time, Ethel Pennington walked into the backyard.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Alice ignored her as she checked Eddie’s pounding pulse, but it wasn’t more rapid than was normal for the activity he’d experienced.

  “What’s going on here?” Ethel repeated, and Kristin answered.

  “Alice made Eddie play ball, and he got hit in the belly. He might be dead.”

  Ethel tried to crowd in through the excited children, but Erin outmaneuvered her and knelt on the other side of Eddie, who was already stirring.

  “He had the breath knocked out of him,” Erin said.

  “That’s all.”

  “That’s all!” Ethel said shrilly. “He’s such a delicate child—he could have been killed.”

  Eddie’s face was white when Alice helped him to his feet. Looking from one to the other of the concerned faces around him, he wheezed, “What happened?”

  “The ball hit you in the belly,” Troy shouted, “and knocked the wind out of you. I didn’t know you were such a sissy, or I wouldn’t have hit the ball so hard.”

  “Hush, Troy,” his mother said.

  “You come with me, Eddie,” Ethel said, taking his arm. “I’m going to put you to bed.”

  Alice slumped down in one of the lawn chairs, and didn’t make any effort to resist Ethel. “There’s some banana bread and lemonade ready in the kitchen, Kristin. You serve some to your friends. Erin and I will be in soon
.”

  “Don’t let this bother you, Alice. No harm was done,” Erin said. “It isn’t unusual for children to be hurt when they’re playing.”

  “I shouldn’t have insisted that he play, but the doctor told me that he’d been pampered too much, and that Eddie should live like any other boy. That’s all I was trying to do. I can’t imagine Mark’s reaction.”

  “Perhaps he won’t know about it.”

  “With two kids involved, to say nothing of Ethel, whom I’m convinced reports to Mark on everything I do! He’ll hear about it.”

  The Sabertons and Ethel left about the same time, and Alice went to check on Eddie. He was in bed, and Kristin was reading to him. Alice sat down on the edge of his bed.

  “Tummy sore?” she asked, as she gently lifted the blanket and ran her hand over his stomach. She couldn’t see a bruise of any kind.

  “Just a little,” Eddie said, “but Ethel said I’d have to stay in bed. I wanted to play some more and show Troy Saberton that I’m not a sissy.”

  Alice lifted Eddie and cradled him in her arms. “Of course, you aren’t a sissy. That could have happened to any of us. Troy didn’t mean to hurt you. You rest until dinner is ready, and you can get up then.”

  At that inauspicious moment, Mark bolted into the room.

  “Daddy, you’re home early,” Kristin said.

  He didn’t answer her, but rushed over to Eddie. “Are you all right, Son?” He ignored Alice, and she gave him her place on the bed and left the room.

  She stood at the sink peeling potatoes when he entered the kitchen fifteen minutes later. She supposed he’d gotten the whole story from the children—hopefully they’d described the situation more correctly than Ethel would have done. Alice turned to face him, and he was angry—she’d seen him disillusioned, discouraged and downhearted, but she hadn’t seen him angry until this moment. His blue eyes flashed like steel, and his lips trembled.

  “I told you to take it easy with him. I hadn’t paid much attention before when Ethel told me you were pushing Eddie to try things he shouldn’t do.”

  She resented being put on the defensive, and she spoke more harshly than she would normally have done. “And his doctor told me that Eddie has been pampered too long and that he should be treated like any other boy. Every time Ethel comes here, she undermines any progress he’s made by telling him he’s sick.”

  Alice was so disappointed that Mark had chosen to believe Ethel rather than her, that her normally low voice was shrill when she continued, “If you want Ethel to take care of your children, that’s your decision, but if I stay, she has to stop interfering.”

  “I usually don’t pay much attention to Ethel, but it’s obvious that Eddie could have been hurt badly today. What if that ball had hit him in the head?”

  “I’m terribly sorry that Eddie was hurt, but if he lives a normal life, he’s bound to have these accidents. Have you forgotten what it’s like to be a boy? If he doesn’t get out of that room and learn to play with other children, he’s always going to be a recluse.”

  “He’s my child—don’t you think I can make the right decisions for him?”

  Alice wanted to tell him that he hadn’t made the right decision when he stopped taking his children to Sunday school, but this wasn’t the time to bring up that subject.

  “In three days, I will have been here a month when we were to determine if I was suited for this position, but it isn’t too early to make the decision now. Perhaps I have overstepped my authority, but I only did what I thought was best for Eddie, while at the same time trying to lift the burden you’re carrying. If you can’t see that Kristin and Eddie are happier, better adjusted children than they were when I came, I want to leave. I’m going to finish dinner now, but before the evening’s over, I want to know your decision.”

  Ignoring the stricken look in his eyes at her words, she turned her back and tried to peel potatoes with hands that trembled. The blood pounded so loudly in her head that she couldn’t hear, so she felt his presence behind her before she heard his steps. Mark placed his hands on her shoulders, and the paring knife clattered to the sink top. He turned her gently to face him.

  “I don’t want you to leave, Alice,” he said softly, and her eyes locked with his.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  He slowly shook his head, and she couldn’t tell if he didn’t know why he didn’t want her to leave, or that he wouldn’t tell her.

  “Will you stay?” His voice was soft and intimate.

  She couldn’t speak, but she lifted her hand, caressed the dimple on his cheek, knowing within her heart that his reason for asking her to stay was the same reason that made it impossible for her to leave.

  Chapter Four

  Dinner was a silent affair, even though Eddie ate a good meal, obviously none the worse for his accident. In fact, he seemed somewhat proud of the fact that he’d been knocked out. All of the family must have sensed the tension between Mark and Alice, and she noticed Kristin looking from one to the other with anxiety. It took so little to upset the security of these children. Mark made an effort to keep a conversation going, but Alice couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to. Mark had asked her to stay, but she hadn’t promised. What should she do?

  Mark took the children into the living room when they’d finished eating, and Gran helped Alice remove the dishes from the table. After the dishwasher was filled, and Alice was washing the pans, Gran said, “Don’t be upset, Alice. Eddie isn’t hurt.”

  “I’m thankful for that, but I’m sorry it happened.”

  “Mark won’t be angry for long,” Gran assured Alice.

  Alice hugged the stooped shoulders. “Thanks, Gran. It’s comforting to know that I have you on my side. I hope you have a good rest tonight.”

  As Gran guided her walker toward the stairs, Alice went into her room and shut the door. What had Mark meant by his words? she wondered. Probably she was no more to him than a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear, but if Mark was learning to care for her, that would complicate their situation. If his feelings for her compared to her love for him, she’d have to leave, for it wouldn’t be long before others would notice their mutual attraction. If only a month in his home had this effect on her, she’d be risking her reputation and his if she continued to stay. Already, she was willing to take this man and his family for her own. At her age, she should have known better.

  Alice didn’t turn on a light, but sat in the rocking chair and stared out the window, observing as twilight faded to darkness, listening to a cardinal’s clear tones as it heralded the end of the day. To achieve some comfort, she took off her sandals and unbraided her hair to let it hang loosely around her shoulders. Slowly, she rocked back and forth, trying not to think, but in her mind, she reviewed every minute she’d spent in this home.

  So deep was her concentration that she jumped when a knock sounded on the door. She padded across the floor in her bare feet and paused momentarily with her hand on the doorknob before she turned it.

  Mark peered into the darkness. “Were you asleep? I didn’t know you’d turned off the light.”

  “No, I wasn’t asleep. I’ve been trying to sort things out in my mind.”

  “Will you come into the office? We need to talk.”

  She moved past him and down the hallway to his office. She perched on the edge of the chair she’d occupied the first day she came to this house and Mark took his chair behind the desk.

  “I want to apologize,” he said, “for…for several things, but right now, for losing my temper with you. I know you can’t understand why I’m so protective of Eddie, but you only see him as he is now, a reasonably healthy child.” He swiveled around in his chair and took a family portrait from a bookshelf.

  “That’s the last picture we have of our family before Clarice became ill. See how Eddie looked then.”

  Alice couldn’t bring herself to look at Mark standing beside his wife, so she focused on Eddie—a frail child—whom Mark h
eld in his arms.

  “That’s the way I think of Eddie—spiritless, a bluish tinge to his skin, not able to walk more than a few feet before he gasped for breath. I can’t count the nights I’ve sat by his bed wondering if he’d live until morning.”

  “Please, Mark, you don’t have to explain. I’m the one who should apologize. I overstepped myself, but I want you to know that I was doing only what I thought was good for your kids. I’ve always wanted children of my own, and I suppose I took my maternal frustrations out on your family.”

  “And as for the other apology I should make…”

  Alice held up her hand. “It’s better to leave some things unsaid. I don’t want any more apologies.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, but without referring to what happened in the kitchen this evening, I must say something.”

  He stood up and leaned against the desk close to Alice, but he didn’t look directly at her. “I don’t have any plans to remarry—you know what a financial bind I’m in, my two children have to take first priority, and I’m not where I should be spiritually. There’s not a day that I don’t wrestle with my decision to return to the ministry. I don’t have anything to offer a wife.”

  Except yourself, she thought dismally. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “I understand, Mark, so please don’t say anything else.”

  He squeezed her hand slightly and resumed his seat at the desk.

  “But you will stay with us?”

  “Yes, for the time being at least, but I’ll be honest—I’m not sure it’s wise. It may be a mistake for us and the children.”

  “We’ll risk it. Even after only a month, I don’t see how we could manage without you.”

  It was easier to talk about her role as a nanny if one didn’t look into Mark’s eyes and read the message they conveyed. “I’m willing to continue with the status quo. I’ll need to go to Alexandria occasionally, but we can work that out without any problem.”