Chapter 12
A
fter tucking the girls into bed for the night, Pamela marched the few yards back to her parents’ house. Ben had no right to act that way in front of her children. She opened the back door and slammed it behind her. Spying her overgrown little brother sitting at the kitchen table eating another of the apple crisps she’d made, she pointed her finger at him. “How dare you?”
Ben swallowed the bite in his mouth, then lifted his hands. “How dare I what? Stand up for you and the girls?” He pointed toward the front door. “That man has no right to be anywhere near you all.”
Heat washed over her. She was a grown woman, responsible for her life and her two children. “That is not for you to decide.”
He pushed away from the table and stood, towering over her. “Don’t you remember?” He tapped his fingertips against his temple. “Have you forgotten? The man never showed up to help Dad, Kirk and me on the farm when he said he would. Why? Because he was drunk or hungover.”
“What’s going on in here?” Their mother wrapped a robe around her and tightened the belt. Pins held her hair away from her cream-covered face.
Ben continued. “Or maybe you forgot that he left while you were pregnant, and you got so sick with worry and sadness that you went into labor early with Emmy. Not once, but several times. You’d cry and beg God to keep her safe while we chased after Emma and waited on you hand and foot.”
Pamela crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I didn’t know it bothered you so much to help me.”
He smacked his hand against the table. “Of course I didn’t mind. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But would he?”
“Now, wait a minute, Ben....”
Their mother walked toward her brother. Her lips moved as she spoke to him, but the words jumbled together as Ben’s question weeded its way through every fiber of her being.
The pain she’d suffered when Jack had left punched her in the gut. Yes, she’d told him to leave that night, but she never dreamed he would walk away for good. He hadn’t fought to stay. For months, years even, she’d worried about him, feared for his very life. But she’d heard nothing. No phone calls. No cards or letters. No visits. Nothing until he’d started calling and hanging up two years ago.
“He wasn’t here for any of it.” Ben now addressed their mother. “Not when Emma potty trained or Emmy started walking. Not to teach them their alphabet or teach them to ride a bike. Not when they ran a fever or fought off a stomach bug. He. Was. Never. Here.”
Pamela’s heart squeezed. Ben’s words were true. All of them. He’d abandoned her for all the girls’ milestones to this point. He’d been attentive and reliable the past couple months, but could that really make up for the years he’d been gone? She’d never be able to really trust him. She didn’t want to ever be so vulnerable again. When they’d said their vows, he’d promised to be beside her in the good and bad, in sickness and health. But he’d lied.
“You really think I’d give that man my heart again?”
The words spat from her lips, and her mother stopped talking to Ben and looked at her. Sadness wreathed her mom’s features, and Pamela glanced back at her brother.
“You sure look to have stars in your eyes again,” Ben said.
Pamela placed her hands on her hips. “He’s paying me support, and he wants a relationship with the girls. I can’t legally deny him that.”
Mike walked in the back door and frowned. “What’s goin’ on in here?” He pointed to his wife, and Pamela watched a tear slip down her mom’s cheek. “What’s wrong with your mother?”
Ben growled. “I guess she had some cockamamie idea that Pamela should get back with Jack.” He grinned. “But I suppose Pamela just set her straight.”
Her father stared at her, and Pamela dipped her chin. Her brother’s words and tone sounded disrespectful, and she didn’t want to be lumped in on his side. Her dad glared at Ben. “I don’t like the way you just spoke of your mother.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Dad, I would never say anything bad about Mom. It’s just crazy to think that Pamela and Jack—”
Dad lifted his hand to cut him off, and Pamela bit her bottom lip. “You and I have something to discuss anyway. I’d planned to wait until tomorrow, but...”
He pulled an envelope out of the cabinet, and Ben’s face blanched. Her brother stuttered, “Where did you get that?”
“It came to the house. I didn’t look at who it was addressed to. I opened it and saw that my son has accumulated a great deal of debt.”
Ben’s jaw set in a hard line. “Think I’ll head on back to school tonight.”
“Now, son...” Tammie said, placing her hand on his forearm.
He pulled away and stalked out of the room and up the stairs. Her mom collapsed into tears, and her father gathered her into his arms. They seemed to have forgotten that Pamela was still standing in the kitchen with them.
“I’m so worried about him,” her mom mumbled against her dad’s chest.
Pamela lowered her chin again. She was worried about him, too. He hadn’t been himself the past few visits. Always tired. Always grouchy. Always leaving the house.
“Let’s pray for him right now.”
Her dad took Pamela’s hand in his; then her mother grabbed her other hand. Her heartbeat raced as her dad spoke words of thanksgiving and concern for their youngest child. She hadn’t been able to share burdens with Jack. Not when the girls had been sick. Not when they’d had fusses with peers at school. She wanted it, this unity her parents shared.
Her father ended the prayer, then enveloped them both in a hug before Pamela said goodbye and headed back to the cabin. The house was quiet, with only the ticking of the clock sounding through the room.
She sat on the couch and wrapped her arms around her waist. She felt alone, more so than she had in a long time. She needed comfort. A warm embrace. Grabbing the soft afghan off the chair, she wrapped it around herself. The warmth didn’t help. She had no one. Not Jack. Not God. She was utterly alone.
* * *
Jack placed the video game in the shopping cart filled with dolls, doll accessories and activity sets. Pamela pointed to the game. “Who’s that for?”
“Todd. I think I’m just going to send money to Kari.”
Pamela chewed her lip. “How is your family?”
“Dad hasn’t spoken to me since he kicked me out of the house for good.”
Pamela lifted her eyebrows, and he wondered when the time would come that he could share everything with her.
He continued. “But I talk to Mom about once a month, and I’m Facebook friends with Kari and Todd. We text and even Skype sometimes, so I keep up with them that way.”
Pamela grinned. “I’m sure they’ve gotten big.”
He nodded. “Kari’s fourteen, looks like she’s twenty.” He blew out a breath. “Always has a boyfriend. And Todd’s eleven, loves running cross country.”
Pamela didn’t respond, and he wished he could read her mind. His parents hadn’t tried to contact his daughters since they’d moved to Texas. They didn’t have much money anyway, but his dad also blamed Pamela for allowing his addiction to get out of hand. Something he never understood. Even when he was in the depths of the disease, he knew the fault for his problem rested on him alone.
She pointed to a pink-and-purple bike with a white basket on the front. “There’s the bike I want to get the girls.”
“One for each of them, right?”
“Yeah. I thought we could get little license plates with their names.”
He liked the idea, as well, and Pamela pulled two cards from the clear plastic pouch. “We’ll hand these to the cashier. She’ll ring them up, and then we’ll drive around back and someone will put them in the truck.”
Jack motioned toward the filled shopping cart. “It’s a good thing we brought your dad’s truck.”
Pamela flashed a smile that made his knees weaken. “I knew we’d need it.”
After paying for the Christmas gifts and loading the bikes in the truck, Jack drove through a coffee shop and ordered peppermint mochas, then headed back to the farm. They unloaded the truck, then hid the presents in a storage space at the back of the cabin.
Jack gripped the bag containing his brother’s video game. “I enjoyed shopping with you.”
“I had a good time, too.”
“When are the girls going to be home?”
“They’re staying with friends.”
Silence filled the room, and Jack knew he should simply tell her goodbye and leave. But he wanted her to ask him to stay.
“I made some cookies yesterday.” She motioned toward his java. “We could eat a few with our coffees.”
“Sounds terrific.”
He followed her into the kitchen and sat at the small wooden table with only three chairs. A scrapbook, stickers, pens and colored paper sat in one corner. He glanced at the pictures of the girls on the page she’d been working on. They looked like birthday photos.
She placed a plate of cookies on the center of the table and handed him a saucer and a napkin. “I’m a little behind on the scrapbooking. Those pictures are from June.”
He took a bite of the chocolate chip cookie. “Do you mind if I look at it?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
He sucked in his breath when she pulled her chair beside him. She flipped to the front of the book and pointed out various photos. “This was Emmy’s first day of kindergarten, and Emma heading to first grade.”
They were almost the same height in the picture, but now Emma was much taller. The next picture was of Emmy’s face up close. She pointed to an empty space where her tooth had been.
“First lost tooth?”
Pamela chuckled. “Yes. That child is quite a character.”
“She is at that.”
Pamela stood. “I’ll go get the other scrapbooks, so you can see their baby and toddler pictures.”
Jack praised God for Pamela’s willingness to share about their lives. He’d feared Ben’s outburst would place a new wedge between them, but she’d seemed more laid-back and willing to talk with him than she ever had before.
“Why don’t you come in here? It’s more comfortable on the couch,” she called from the other room.
Jack would go anywhere she liked. He walked into the living room and sat beside her on the sofa. She opened the scrapbook, and he relished pictures of his girls as babies and toddlers. The pages were covered with proof of what a good job she and her family had done raising them.
He pointed to a picture of the girls on the back of a horse. Emmy’s face shone with delight, while Emma looked down at the ground with her lips drawn in an exaggerated frown.
Pamela grinned. “That pretty much sums up their personalities, wouldn’t you say?”
“From what I’ve seen, yes.”
Pamela turned the page. Her fingers traced one of the photographs. “I missed you through all this.”
Jack faced her. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her gaze to his. “I missed you so much, Pamela. Words will never express how sorry I am.”
Her eyes filled with tears. With his free hand, he swiped the one that escaped. Her lips parted, and Jack couldn’t stop himself. He lowered his mouth to hers. Softer and more delicious than he remembered, if that were possible.
She didn’t pull away, and he traced her cheeks with his hand until his fingers found the softness of her hair. Everything in him ignited, and he moved closer to her on the couch. He longed for her touch. Yearned for her.
“Jack.” Her voice sounded breathless, and he wanted to cover her lips again, but she pushed his chest. She touched her hand to her lips and shook her head. “Not ready.”
He exhaled a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow down. “I’m sorry, Pammer.”
She looked at him. Her expression was tender again, and he fought the need to take her in his arms once more. “It’s okay.”
“I want us to be a family again.”
“I know.”
“I love you, Pammer.”
She stared at him. “I know you do. The best you know how, but I don’t know if it’s enough for me.”
Jack frowned. What did she mean by that? He’d messed up, but he was proving he’d changed over and over to her. Emmy had welcomed him back. Even Emma had warmed to him.
She raked her fingers through her hair. “Jack, you better go.”
Hurt, he didn’t argue, but he leaned over and placed a firm kiss on the top of her head. “I will always love you.”
His throat burned as he walked out the door and toward his car. The need for a drink washed over him. He pulled out his wallet, found the scripture he’d written on the card Jermaine had given him and prayed God would give him strength.
Chapter 13
J
ack wrote his name on the guest sign-in sheet at the front desk of the girls’ elementary school. He hadn’t seen Pamela or his daughters for several days, and he missed them terribly. He hadn’t succumbed to the urge to drink the evening he and Pamela had kissed, but he’d relived the moment each night when he closed his eyes. His need for her had jump-started with such fervor he couldn’t stop thinking of her.
“Hello—” the secretary read his name from the sheet “—Mr. Isaacs.” She handed him a visitor sticker. “May I ask the reason for your visit?”
“I’m here to have lunch with my daughters.”
She nodded. “Wonderful. And who are your children?”
“Emma and Emmy Isaacs.”
“Lovely girls.” The lady sat down at her desk and typed on the computer’s keyboard. She turned toward him, frowning. “I’m sorry, Mr. Isaacs, but you aren’t listed on the girls’ contact lists. I won’t be able to let you eat lunch with them.”
Embarrassment warmed his neck and cheeks. He’d have never dreamed it would be so difficult to eat a meal with his children at their elementary school. Although when he thought of the senseless violent acts committed over recent years, he didn’t mind going through the wringer to enter the building. “I’ve only recently moved back to town. I’m sure their mother just hasn’t added me yet.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s school policy. If Ms. Isaacs comes by the office or sends a note, then I’ll be able—”
Jack spied one of his old classmates as she walked out of an office down the hall behind the receptionist’s desk. “Brittany.” He motioned her to the front.
The receptionist sat up straighter. “Mrs. Carter, I was just explaining to Mr. Isaacs—”
Jack laughed. “You and Walter got married. Good for you.”
“Hello, Jack.”
He took in her burgundy dress suit and white ruffled blouse. Her blond hair had been cut short. “So, what’s Walter up to these days? Owen and I hang out as often as we can.”
The receptionist spoke again. “I explained that I can’t let him go to the lunchroom because he isn’t on the contact list.”
Realization smacked his face. “Are you the principal?”
“I am.”
“That’s great. I’m really happy for you.” He leaned against the desk. “Is there anything I can do to be able to eat lunch with the girls? I told them I was coming. I didn’t know about needing to be on a contact list.”
Brittany nodded. “It’s okay, Jack.” She looked at the receptionist. “Call Ms. Isaacs. If she agrees to put him on the list, we’ll let him in.”
While the woman called Pamela, Brittany nodded to him. “It was good to see you, Jack.”
She walked back to her office, and Jack wondered what she thought of him. She and Walter had been finishing their first year of college when he’d left. They probably deemed him lower than scum leaving Pamela and the girls. He couldn’t blame them. When he thought on it too hard or let the past get to him, he’d call Owen or Jermaine for a reminder that he could only control what he did with his life now. And that he’d lain at the feet of Jesus.
The woman hung up the phone. She pushed a button that unlocked the door to the rest of the building. “You can go on back. The lunchroom is straight ahead on your left.”
“Thanks.”
He walked to the lunchroom and stood at the entrance. The place was filled with rectangular tables and children. It had seemed much bigger when he was a kid.
“Daddy!”
He heard Emmy’s voice from the right side of the room. She stood up and waved for him to sit with her. As he walked toward her, he spied Emma sitting beside friends a few tables in front of Emmy’s. He waved to her, and she offered a tentative wave back.
Emmy wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She grabbed his hand. “You want me to take you through the lunch line?”
“How ’bout I just sit with you and visit? That way I can go see Emma at her table in a minute.”
Emmy shrugged. “Okay.” She patted the space beside her. “Sit, Daddy.”
Jack sat beside her and looked at her friends. “You want to introduce me?”
Emmy pointed around the table. “Abby, Simon, Stephanie and Brody.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. What are you having for lunch?”
“Chicken noodle and grilled cheese,” said Emmy.
“And carrots and broccoli,” added Simon as he wrinkled his nose.
“Did you just move here?” asked Brody.
“I did,” Jack responded.
“’Cause Emmy didn’t have a daddy before,” said Abby.
Emmy leaned forward. “Yes, I did. I just didn’t know him yet.”
Jack’s neck and cheeks warmed again, and his hands began to sweat. Wiping them on his pants, he decided he wasn’t going to get a break today. “I’m here now.” He looked at each one of them. “I hear we’re going to have a Christmas pageant in a few days.”
The kids started talking all at once, and Jack tried to listen to who was going to be a present and a tree and Santa Claus and elves and Virginia and the editor of the newspaper. Shifting in his seat, he spied Emma’s class line up to leave the lunchroom. He wondered if he should walk over to her and offer a high-five or give her a hug. As shy as she tended to be, any show of affection might embarrass her too much.
She finally sneaked a peek at him, and he waved. She nodded just a tad, then faced forward in the line. He’d wait on the high-five or hug.
Emmy and her friends continued to talk about the pageant and who sang the loudest or had the most speaking parts, until their teacher called for them to line up. He gave Emmy a quick hug and kissed the top of her head. “I can’t wait to see you in the pageant. You’ll be the prettiest elf ever.”
Emmy beamed. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
* * *
Jack opened the car door for Pamela. The ride to the school Christmas program had been a bit awkward, since they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since the night of their kiss. He had the added embarrassment of the school’s receptionist calling to ask Pamela’s permission to see their children at lunch. Still, he was glad she’d agreed to ride together. They planned to take the girls for ice cream after the program, and as uncomfortable as things might be at times, he wanted them all to be a family again.
They walked into the auditorium and Pamela pointed to a place in the middle near the front. “How ’bout we sit there?”
“Looks good to me.”
Pamela stopped and talked with a couple he’d never seen before. She introduced them quickly, and he nodded a hello. After sitting down, she leaned toward him. The floral scent of her hair stirred his stomach, and he wished to lean closer and sniff his fill. “I don’t see my parents. Do you?”
Jack scanned the audience. The place was packed so tight he wondered if it was a fire hazard. He shook his head. “I’m sure they’re here somewhere. They left before we did.”
His cell phone dinged, and Jack pulled it out of his front pocket. Kari had texted to tell him their mom had been feeling poorly again. Depression and muscle weakness seemed especially challenging during the most recent MS attack. He’d have to call her when he got home.
“Was that about the shelter?” asked Pamela.
He shook his head. “Mom’s had an attack again. Seems they’re coming more often.”
Pamela touched the top of his hand. “I’m sorry, Jack.”
“Thanks.” He took her hand in his, and to his pleasure, she didn’t pull away. “So, how do these programs work?”
Pamela chuckled. “As long as we don’t have a repeat of two years ago, all will be fine.” She smacked her knee. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget when Simon had an accident onstage, and Emmy saw it, panicked and then threw up all over him. He screamed and ran off the stage.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Sounds like quite a show.”
She wiped her eyes. “I’ll never get over it.”
She giggled again, and Jack squeezed her hand. She’d curled her red locks, and they rested in waves below her shoulders. The deep blue turtleneck sweater enhanced the bright blue of her eyes. He leaned closer to her. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her cheeks bloomed pink as she crossed her legs. He admired the knee-high heeled boots and khaki skirt she wore.
The lights dimmed, and Jack focused his attention to the front. Music started, and a bunch of kids rushed to the stage. One wore a pair of oversize glasses, a gray-haired wig and a long skirt, obviously playing the teacher or librarian or something. He searched for Emmy and Emma but didn’t see them anywhere.
Pamela whispered, “Emma will be in the next scene. She’ll be a reporter.”
Jack nodded. “Does she have a speaking part?”
Pamela chortled. “Are you kidding?”
Jack grinned. “Guess not. What about Emmy?”
“She would, but second graders aren’t allowed.”
Jack nodded and watched as the scene changed, and Emma walked onto the stage with a group of kids. He pulled out his phone and took a picture. When Emmy ran out as one of Santa’s elves a few scenes later, he took a picture of her, as well. The play ended, and the audience erupted in applause. He glanced at Pamela. “They did a great job.”
“They always do. I don’t know how Mrs. Lewis, their music teacher, accomplishes it, but she puts on a great play every year.”
Once the children were dismissed, the girls bounded out from behind stage and hugged Pamela and Jack. He smiled at each of them. “You did a great job.”
“Are we going for ice cream?” asked Emmy.
“Of course,” Jack said. “Didn’t I promise I’d take you if you did a great job?”
Emma twisted her foot. “Well, I did kinda trip when I went onstage the first time.”
“I didn’t notice it.” Jack patted her shoulder. “I thought you did wonderful.”
“Was I the best elf ever, like you said?” asked Emmy.
Jack tweaked her nose. “Of course you were.”
“You know what that means.” Pamela pumped her fist through the air. “Ice cream, here we come.”
The girls cheered, and they all rushed to the car. Once at the ice-cream parlor, they sat at what had become their usual table with their usual orders.
“So, what did you think? I mean really,” asked Emma.
“I think I’m looking at the best reporter and the best elf in the play,” said Jack.
“I agree,” Pamela offered.
The girls giggled as they dug into their desserts. Jack cherished each moment, committing each word, glance and smile to memory.
“We better head back. We’ve got school tomorrow,” said Pamela.
“Aww,” the girls whined in unison.
“Better listen to your mom.” Jack stood, picked up their trash and threw it away. “Although I am surprised the program was on a school night.”
“Second Thursday in December every year,” said Pamela. “I think they schedule it like that because so many of the kids have multiple family gatherings to attend during the holidays.”
Jack figured as much. Many of those gatherings were because the children had multiple families to visit. Mom’s side. Dad’s side. Stepmom’s side. Stepdad’s side. His stomach quivered at the idea of the girls visiting another man’s relatives, and again he prayed God would reunite the family he had torn apart.
Once back at the cabin, Jack walked them to the front door. The girls gave him a quick kiss and then ran into the house and to their bedroom to change for bed. Jack pulled a check out of his front pocket and handed it to Pamela. “When can I see you all again?”
“You could come for dinner after church on Sunday.”
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be there.”
Pamela leaned against the door. “It was nice to watch the play with you.”
“I’m glad I got to see it.” He reached over and touched her hand. “I’m also glad I was with you.”
She pushed away from the door. “Sorry, Jack. I have to do this one more time.”
Before he could respond, she leaned forward, lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his. He sucked in a breath. He hadn’t expected that, but he surely wouldn’t deny her. Pulling her to him, he deepened the kiss, silently begging her to know the passion he felt.
She gasped and pushed away, then licked her bottom lip. The action stirred him, and he reached for her again.
“Night, Jack.” Shaking her head, she rested her palm against his chest.
Fire seared through him. Jack bit back a growl as she stepped inside the cabin and shut the door behind her. He stalked back to the car and hopped inside. His phone dinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Another text from Kari.
He pressed her number on the speed dial. Kari sounded older than her years when she answered. “Hi, Jack.”
“Hey, Kari. What’s up?”
“Not Mom, that’s for sure. She’s pretty down this time. Depressed, I mean. Todd even had to help her get to the bathroom today when I was in the shower.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Working all the time.” Kari sighed. “Hiding if you ask me.”
Jack’s heart twisted. He wished he could visit his family, take some of the pressure off his siblings, if only for a few days. His dad had to work a lot of hours to pay for Mom’s medical bills, but he did seem to work more than necessary when she was having an attack. Jack had come to realize his dad wasn’t trying to avoid helping Mom, but avoiding watching her in pain.
“I wish I could come to Texas and see you all.”
“Why don’t you?” asked Kari. “Just fly out for a few days.”
“If only it were that easy.” He gave Pamela every spare penny he earned, and she deserved it. She was his wife, and the girls were his children. It was his responsibility and desire to provide for them.
“Mom’s calling. I gotta go.”
“Kari?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m praying for you all.”
“We need it.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He pushed the end button and dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. As he drove back to his apartment, he lifted a prayer for his mom and dad, sister and brother, Pamela and their girls. With a heavy heart, he parked the car, then picked up the phone and dialed Jermaine’s number. He needed some wise counsel. He might even call Owen afterward and see if his buddy was available to catch a movie or hit the bowling alley. Jack had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.