Ribbon of Years Read online

  "Oh, Dad, please." She rolled her eyes. No forty-one-year-old woman should be referred to as "pixie," but breaking Frank Gresham of the habit seemed hopeless. So she turned her attention back to her son. "Luke, you heard me. Up to your room right now, and do your math papers."

  The boy shot his grandpa a look, seeking an ally.

  "Mind your mom. We'll work on that curveball after church tomorrow."

  Luke groaned dramatically as he went into the house.

  Miriam smiled. "He's quite the athlete, isn't he?"

  "That he is."

  "Like Del."

  "Yes, he's a lot like Del. He's a good boy. You've done a fine job raising him."

  "No small thanks to you." She turned and reentered the house.

  "How was the luncheon?"

  "Boring." She took the casserole dish containing that night's supper from the refrigerator and set it in the cold oven, then turned the temperature control to three-fifty. "Just once I wish they'd get a speaker under the age of ninety."

  Frank chuckled. "Can't be as bad as all that."

  "Almost." Miriam sank onto a chair at the table and kicked off her patent-leather pumps.

  "Bert Rey stopped by earlier," her dad said as he sat opposite her. "He brought some brochures about that camp. Luke says he wants to go."

  "Isn't he still a bit young to go for a whole week?" She swept her hair away from her face. "He isn't even ten yet."

  "Is it Luke's age or just that you'd miss him too much?"

  She met his gaze. "Guilty as charged."

  "Pixie?" He leaned across the table, placing an age-wrinkled hand over hers. "Sometimes I worry you're letting life pass you by. Bert's getting serious, you know."

  "I know."

  "He's a good man."

  "I know that, too."

  "But?"

  She shrugged. "Nothing really. I like Bert." She slipped her hand from her father's and rose from the chair. "I need to get out of this dress and into something comfortable."

  "And I'd better get on my way home. Allison's got a bridge party at our house tonight, and she'll be madder'n all get-out if I'm late getting back." He stood, walked around the table, and gave Miriam a kiss on the cheek. "See you at church."

  She walked with him toward the front door. "Thanks for staying with Luke this afternoon, Dad. He really loves spending time with you." Softly, so her voice wouldn't carry up the stairs, she added, "I nearly forgot to tell you. I bought that camera he wants. Now I can hardly wait for his birthday to give it to him."

  "You've always hated to wait," Frank replied with a wink and a smile. "For anything." He gave her another peck on the cheek, then headed out the door and down the steps.

  Miriam watched him go, thinking how right he was. Impatience had always been one of her faults.

  When Frank reached his Nash, he waved at her before getting into the automobile. She waved back, then closed the door and went upstairs. On her way, she peeked inside Luke's room. He was obediently bent over the homework papers on his desk, his back toward her, so she continued on without saying a word.

  Sunshine filtered through the sheer, mauve-colored draperies, giving her bedroom a rosy glow. From the floral bedspread to the frilly skirt around the dressing table to the delicate nicknacks on the bedside table, everything proclaimed that the room belonged to a woman. A woman without a man.

  "Sometimes I worry you're letting life pass you by."

  She frowned. Was her dad right? Was she letting life pass her by?

  Her thoughts churning, Miriam opened the closet door, then unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. The first year after Del's death had been a hard one. She'd spent most of her pregnancy in tears. Every holiday had served to remind her that she couldn't celebrate it with the husband she loved. Other families in River Bluff were constant reminders that her precious son would grow up without his father.

  Moving to Boise had helped, and decorating her new home—an older house that had fallen into disrepair—had filled many of her lonely hours. She'd taken her time with the wallpapering, painting, refinishing, and buying furniture. She'd wanted to put her personal stamp on every single room, and she'd succeeded. And while she'd worked on the house, God had worked on healing her heart.

  "Bert's getting serious, you know."

  "Yes, Dad," she whispered. "I know."

  Bert Rey was Luke's Cub Scout leader. A divorced father with a son of his own to raise, he and Miriam had become acquainted at the start of the school year. They attended the same church and had several mutual friends. It was easy to like Bert. He was thoughtful, funny, interesting, and had a wonderful smile. No, he wasn't the most handsome man in the world. He was like a teddy bear, round and cuddly, which Miriam found appealing.

  And yet . . .

  She closed her closet door, then finished buttoning her blouse while crossing to the bedroom window.

  "And yet he isn't Del?" She tried the words aloud, wondering if it was the reason she didn't allow something more serious to develop with Bert.

  She looked down at the vegetable garden, lying fallow at the end of April, awaiting the spring planting. "Am I lying fallow, Lord? Is that what You're trying to tell me?"

  Her dad seemed to think so.

  Of course, Frank Gresham was also a happily married man. After three years of a long-distance courtship, he'd proposed to Jim Hogan's sister, Allison Keene, and she'd accepted. They'd wed two weeks later. Shortly afterward, at the age of sixty, Frank had decided to retire. He'd sold the drugstore, and he and Allison had moved to Boise, where they could be nearer his daughter and grandson. For the past seven years, the Greshams had lived a short six blocks from Miriam and Luke, and Luke adored having his granddad nearby.

  But, Miriam wondered now, did Luke need a man, in addition to his granddad, in the home? Did he need a stepfather? Someone like Bert?

  "Hey, Mom!"

  Pulled from her musings, she turned. "What?"

  "I need your help with this math stuff."

  She smiled. "Coming, honey."

  Miriam's life didn't seem fallow at the moment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  YANKING OFF HER GARDENING GLOVES ON THE RUN, MIRIAM reached the phone on the fifth ring. "Hello?"

  "Hello," said a male voice. "Is this Miriam Tucker?"

  "Yes. Who's calling, please."

  "It's Jacob."

  She paused a moment before asking, "McAllister?"

  "In the flesh."

  "My goodness, Jacob. It's been ages since I heard your voice."

  "Nine years, to be exact."

  "It's such a surprise. How are you? Are you calling from San Francisco?"

  "No. I'm in Boise. We're moving back to Idaho."

  "To River Bluff?"

  "Nothing for us to go back to there now that my dad's gone and my brothers have all moved away. No, we're moving to Boise. I'm going to open my own insurance agency here. Just closed the deal on an office near downtown today. Tomorrow I've gotta find us a house to rent until we're ready to buy."

  Miriam settled onto a kitchen stool near the wall phone. "How's Elaine? And the kids?"

  "Fine. Everybody's fine." He chuckled. "I don't suppose you heard we've got another set of twins."

  "No! Really?"

  "A boy and a girl this time. Rachel and Bobby. They're almost two."

  She smiled. "You sound happy, Jacob."

  "You better believe it." His voice turned more serious. "In lots of ways, I've got you to thank for it."

  Miriam didn't know how to respond.

  After a few moments of silence, Jacob said, "I'm not sayin' it was easy. Even when we moved back to California, the way Elaine wanted, I had my doubts we could save our marriage. There was a load of hurt and pain we were both packin' around. You know as well as anybody that it was mostly my fault. Elaine deserves the credit for stickin' it out. She had plenty of reasons not to."

  Miriam continued to listen in silence.

  "The story's too long to
go into now. Suffice it to say, I quit drinking and started loving my wife and kids the way a man's supposed to."

  "I'm glad for you, Jacob. Very glad."

  "Listen, I'd love for us all to get together once the family's settled in. Be good to catch up on old times."

  "I'd like that too."

  "Well then, when Elaine and the kids get up here, we'll give you a call. I'm dyin' to see Luke. He was only a couple months old last time I saw him. And how 'bout your dad? I heard through the grapevine he got married and is living in Boise."

  "Yes, about seven years ago."

  "Hard to imagine." He paused, then asked, "How about you? Anyone special in your life?"

  Why did it seem as if everybody was asking her that question lately?

  She surprised herself by answering, "There might be."

  "Glad to hear it. I hope to meet him. I guess I'd better hang up now. Good talking to you, Miriam."

  "You, too, Jacob."

  "Bye."

  "Good-bye. Have a safe move."

  The Webelos Scout Pack #442 met on Thursday afternoons in the fellowship hall of the New Morning Christian Center. The meeting place had changed this year, but Bert Rey had been a cubmaster ever since his son, Andy, joined the Tiger Cubs in first grade.

  In the beginning, Bert's wife, Cheryl—make that his ex-wife—had been an active participant, but she'd left Bert and Andy three years ago. Left town without a trace. It wasn't until she was gone that he'd learned of her long-standing affair with another man. Not the man she'd run off with, however. That guy was someone new. Someone younger and richer.

  Last year Bert had received divorce papers from out of the country. With the dissolution of their marriage, Cheryl had given sole custody of their son to Bert. She'd made it clear in the accompanying documents that she had no desire to see Andy again. It was as if the boy didn't exist to her.

  Bert had hated Cheryl for that, even more than for leaving him. Maybe he still hated her for it sometimes. But he tried not to dwell on it anymore.

  "Don't forget to ask your parents about camp," he called to the departing scouts. "We need definite numbers of those going in a couple of weeks."

  He gathered books and supplies and dropped them into a cardboard box.

  "Look, Mom," Luke Tucker said excitedly. "I earned my new badge."

  Bert turned in time to see Miriam kneel down and hug her son.

  "Honey, that's terrific. I'm so proud of you." She glanced over Luke's head, her gaze meeting Bert's. She smiled. "But I knew you would. You always give a hundred percent." She stood again.

  Bert walked toward her, returning her smile. "I thought I was supposed to drop Luke at your house today," he said.

  "You were." She shrugged. "But I needed a break from yard work, and it was a beautiful day for a walk."

  Miriam was what was beautiful, he thought, even with grass stains on the knees of her capri pants and a smudge of dirt on the tip of her chin.

  Bert's relationship with Miriam was still somewhat tentative after six dates in a third as many months. She'd become his sister in Christ first, then a trusted confidante—another single parent who understood the ups and downs of raising a son—and maybe, she'd become his "lady friend," as one of the guys in the church men's group put it.

  "Get your things, honey," Miriam told Luke, her voice intruding on Bert's thoughts. The boy hurried off to obey.

  As soon as Luke was out of earshot, Bert asked, "Have you given more thought to Luke's going to camp? We've gotta know by next week. Have you decided?"

  She nodded, then shook her head, then shrugged.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  Miriam laughed softly. "Yes, I've thought about it. No, I haven't decided. I just keep thinking he's terribly young to go away for a whole week. He isn't even ten yet."

  "He's the same age as all the boys who are going."

  "I know, but—"

  "Mind a bit of advice?" He knew he was treading on dangerous ground now, but he decided to forge ahead. "Don't molly-coddle him, Miriam. You won't be doing him any favors by it."

  All traces of laughter disappeared from her expression.

  "Look," Bert blundered on, figuring it was too late to back out now, "I know Luke. I've been his cubmaster all year. He's a good kid. He's athletic and smart. Never reckless the way some boys are. He'd excel at camp, and I think you know it. Turn him loose a little, Miriam. Sometimes you hang on way too tight."

  She looked across the fellowship hall to where her son stood talking with Andy and a couple of other boys.

  I've really blown it with her now.

  But Miriam surprised him. "You could be right, Bert. Maybe I am being overprotective." She met his gaze again. "I'll let him go to scout camp, but only because you're going to be there, too."

  Her trust felt good. He was determined not to let her down.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  DESPITE ITS BEING MID-MAY, THERE WAS PLENTY OF SNOW LEFT IN the higher elevations. It sparkled on rocky mountaintops, and it peeked out from shadowy ravines. But Highway 21 was clear, and the sun reigned in a pristine blue sky that Saturday morning as the gray-and-black Ford Fairlane drove north toward Idaho City.

  In the rear seat, Luke and Andy debated who was the best ballplayer in the major leagues. Pitcher Sandy Koufax seemed to have the edge, but the base-stealing Maury Morning Wills was a close second in the boys' opinion. In the front seat, Miriam and Bert sang along with the radio like a couple of teenagers, belting out, "Only love can break a heart," as if they knew what they were doing. Gene Pitney would've been proud.

  They arrived at the hot springs resort in high spirits. With suits and towels in their arms, they scrambled out of the car, accompanied by their own laughter. After paying the fee, Bert and the boys headed for the men's locker room and Miriam for the women's.

  Miriam smiled to herself as she changed from her shorts and cotton top into a one-piece swimming suit. She hadn't enjoyed herself this much in a long, long while.

  Strange, she thought, the difference a couple of weeks could make.

  She stepped into the shower stall and turned the lever. The spray that came through the nozzle was as cold as melted snow. She shrieked in surprise and jumped out. Shivering, she hurried from the dressing room, tossed her towel onto a bench, and jumped into the pool's wonderfully warm water. When she came up for air, she heard her son's voice and used her arms to turn a hundred and eighty degrees.

  Bert and the boys were engaged in an enthusiastic game of water basketball in the shallow end.

  Bert and the boys . . .

  She mulled those words over in her mind.

  Bert and the boys . . .

  It sounded almost like a family.

  Is it what You want for me, God? I'm not sure I trust my heart when it comes to this.

  Bert grabbed Andy and catapulted him toward Miriam. He flew through the air, landing with a great splash, drenching her face and hair.

  "Get him!" Andy cried the instant he resurfaced, revengeful laughter in his voice.

  Miriam let go of her questions and joined in the attack.

  On two large plaid blankets spread on the gently sloped hillside, they ate their picnic lunch of fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, and corn bread. Miriam's prizewinning spice cake was served for dessert, after which the boys pleaded to explore the nearby forest.

  Bert listed a number of rules to be followed, then glanced at Miriam for her concurrence.

  "Don't mollycoddle him." She could almost hear Bert repeating those words to her as she reluctantly nodded her approval.

  "Okay," Bert continued, "look at your watch, Andy. What time is it?"

  "Almost one-thirty."

  "We want you back here at two o'clock. Understood?"

  "Yes, Dad."

  "And you're to stay together and within shouting distance of us. Agreed?"

  "Yes."

  "Luke?" Bert looked his way.

  "Yes, sir. Thanks, Mom."

 
; She hid her uncertainty behind a smile. "Have fun, and remember what Mr. Rey told you."

  "We will."

  The two boys raced up the hillside, leaping over a rotting log like a pair of young bucks.

  "Relax, Miriam. They'll remember the rules. They're good Scouts."

  She glanced at Bert, then started to clear away the food, putting leftovers into the cooler and picnic basket, tossing paper plates into a sack to throw away. Bert pitched in to help, and it wasn't long before they were finished.

  "Miriam," Bert said when she started to gather up the blankets to carry to the car. "Do me a favor."

  "What?" she replied distractedly.

  "Leave the blankets where they are. Lie down on your back and stare up at the sky."

  She looked at him.

  He patted the spot beside him. "Right here, if you don't mind."

  Nerves and anticipation shivered through her. "Why?"

  "Because I asked you to. Is that enough reason?"

  After a moment, she did his bidding.

  Bert lay back, too. "Pretty, isn't it?"

  He was right. It was pretty. Wisps of clouds floated against the blue. A ponderosa pine swayed gently, casting dancing shadows across her face—sun and shade, sun and shade, sun and shade. A hawk soared effortlessly above, wings outstretched.

  Bert rolled onto his elbow, bringing his chest against her shoulder and his face into view. "Miriam . . . "

  Her heart started banging like a kettledrum.

  "Today's been fun."

  Her gaze locked with his.

  "I think maybe there could be something more between you and me. If we let it happen."

  She swallowed.

  He drew closer. "I'm going to kiss you, Miriam Tucker."

  She nodded, granting permission.

  It had been a good, long while since Miriam was kissed by a man in this particular manner. She felt more like an untried schoolgirl than a forty-one-year-old widow, uncertain which way to turn her head, where to put her hands, whether or not to close her eyes. She was keenly aware of the warm pressure of Bert's mouth upon hers, the scratchy stubble on his jaw, the pool-chlorine scent on his skin. But when all was said and done, she found the kiss . . . pleasant . . . and she wasn't sorry she'd allowed it to happen.