Love by the Yard (14 page)

Brendan didn't say anything as he walked beside Shanna. He didn't know what to say. Even though things weren't going the way he wanted them to, he could understand that it was a big decision for her, even bigger because she had lived on the bad side of marriage. She didn't know how good it could be. He knew, because he'd seen it in his parents' marriage—a marriage that had ended much too soon.

He could only take solace in knowing that he'd done what he thought God wanted him to do, and that was to show Shanna how much he loved her. He'd done that by protecting her as best he could, which put him at substantial risk. His friend Sal, the social worker, had warned him that Ray could snap and strike out at him, and it wasn't uncommon for weapons to be involved.

Ray was a gun owner, which didn't come as a surprise. Fortunately, Ray's wife was much smarter than Ray gave her credit for. When Brendan called to warn her that Ray was on the way, she'd hidden Ray's guns, knowing the potential, and she'd locked his dog, Killer, in the backyard. Ray had picked up the fireplace poker to go after Evelyn but had then turned on Brendan when he burst in on them. God truly had been at work in Ray and Evelyn's house that day, because everything Sal had warned him about had happened. The good news was that Brendan managed to calm Ray down and get the poker away from him before any harm was done. Then, after a lot of careful talking, Ray actually listened to Brendan. He'd taken everything Brendan said to heart and was now working on controlling his anger.

Too soon, they arrived back at Shanna's house.

Since he didn't have anything more to say, Brendan simply climbed into his truck and drove away to his next job site, knowing it was going to be a very long day.

❧

Shanna stared at her computer screen without doing anything for so long that her screen saver came on.

She sat there mesmerized by the little fish swimming back and forth, complete with bubbles and the odd, exploding blowfish.

She managed to snap her brain back into wanting to do some work and was just about to hit a key to deactivate the screen saver when the phone rang.

She looked at the time. It was after 8:00, and the
children were already in bed. Whoever was calling, it wasn't business.

Her hand froze over the receiver before she picked it up.

If it was Brendan, she didn't know what she would say.

She hadn't been fair to him. She should have told him that she was afraid, but her reason for being afraid wasn't fair to him, either. He was a good and valiant man. When Shanna knew Ray had left for work, she'd phoned Evelyn and asked for more details of what happened the day Brendan had stepped into the middle of the situation. What she heard wasn't pretty.

Brendan had done his research—both on trying to understand what she was going through and on what Ray would be going through—then stepped into the middle, putting himself at risk. And he'd done it for her.

On the sixth ring, she finally picked up the phone.

“Shanna? It's me, Kathy. I'm sorry for phoning so late, but I wanted to ask you a question about your neighbor John.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked, knowing her voice sounded almost squeaky.

“Are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”

“I'm fine,” Shanna replied, knowing she didn't sound fine.

“Would you like to tell me what's wrong?”

Shanna cringed. Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. “Can I ask you a really personal question?” she whispered.

“Anything you want,” Kathy said, sounding hesitant.

Shanna steeled her nerve. “Did you and your husband ever fight?”

Kathy paused. “It depends on what you mean by ‘fight.' I hope you don't mind, but Matthew told me a little bit about your brother-in-law. Matthew is scared of him because you're scared of him. So I'm going to assume that when you say ‘fight,' you don't mean ‘argue.' Gerry and I argued, but we never hit each other, and we never threw things. I won't say we never raised our voices, but we always worked it out. Does that help?”

Shanna thought of all she'd been through with Roger and what she'd seen with her parents. Kathy's experience had been the complete opposite of her own. Which meant it was possible for her to have the same.

“Yes, that does help. Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Did your husband let you win any of those arguments?”

“Let me win? I'm not sure what to say. No one ever won or lost. We worked everything out until we came to some kind of agreement. Neither of us ever ‘let' the other win, and nothing was a contest where there was a winner and a loser. It was more the other way around. Sometimes I gave in; sometimes he did, but most of the time we met in the middle. It wasn't over until both of us could live with the decision. But we didn't argue very often. In a good marriage, both partners usually think along the same lines in the things that are important. Family, children, money, daily life matters. . . The things we argued about were the nonessentials. Furniture colors. Cars. Stupid things, looking back. Often we'd just laugh about it later. And then we'd—uh, never mind. What were you saying?”

Shanna remembered Brendan's words, and they echoed what his mother had said, in a different way. Marriage was a partnership.

Her parents' marriage hadn't been a partnership. It was her father's way or no way. When she first started dating, her mother had told her that it didn't matter about winning or losing, probably because she never won. Her mother said what mattered was that a woman had to find a husband who would have her for better or worse. Except that her father hadn't stuck around for better or worse. He'd left for something better.

She didn't have any examples of a good marriage in her family or in her own life. The only thing Shanna knew about what a marriage was supposed to be like was what she'd read or heard from the people she knew at church. Brendan had lived with good examples, and he still believed the same things and held the same values. He probably always would.

He would never strike out in anger. It wasn't in him to do so, both by his nature and by the examples and teaching he'd grown up with. The way he'd dealt with Ray was proof of that. He would never bully or badger her or the children, and he would always be fair. And as he said, he would always love her; and to him, love meant a partnership. She couldn't ask for more than that.

“I'm sorry. What did you want to know about John?”

“What's he like? He asked me out to dinner, and I didn't know what to say.”

“I don't see him that much, but I usually see him at least on Sundays, because we go to the same church. Sometimes we go together, but not always, because of the kids. The kids like him, too. I don't know him really well, but he seems very nice.”

Shanna leaned forward and peeked through the blinds. Speaking of John, she couldn't see him, exactly, but the light was on in the family room, and she detected flickers indicating the television was on, and she could see occasional movements. Even though she didn't know what he was doing, she knew he was awake and alone.

“Thanks,” Kathy said. “That's exactly what I wanted to know. I'll catch you next Tuesday, for Ladies' Night at my church. Are you still interested?”

“Yes. Very much. Thanks for calling, and I really mean that.”

The second she hung up, she dialed John's phone number.

“Hi, John. It's Shanna, next door. This is nothing urgent, but I was wondering if you could come over and keep an eye on the kids for a while. They're in bed, but I have to go out and get something. I'd owe you, big-time.”

John laughed through the phone. “You know I'm not doing anything important. I'll be right there.”

She scribbled down the address from her files, grabbed her purse, and ran to the door.

By the time John's foot touched the first step, Shanna was already on the porch. “I'll be back in an hour, tops, not a minute longer. I promise,” she chorused as she closed the car door.

In record time, she had arrived at Brendan's town house.

The door opened. In some ways, he looked exactly the same as he always did, but also entirely different.

Since he'd gotten his hair cut, he'd continued to shave every day, but she could understand what he'd said about his reasons for his former style, or lack thereof. After his new haircut, he'd gelled it up, and he had been keeping that up daily, as well as continuing to shave diligently. But now, later in the evening, he had obviously showered and washed all the gel out and not bothered to use more since he was home alone. His hair was now half flopped over on his head and half sticking out all over because it wasn't combed. And he hadn't been kidding when he'd said his five o'clock shadow started at two o'clock. It was now nearly eight thirty, and his chin was as scruffy as the “didn't shave for a day and a half” look of some of the tough-guy movie stars. Only she knew Brendan didn't work to achieve the look; it was just the way he was.

He was wearing a freshly laundered T-shirt. But if it hadn't been for the fresh-from-the-dryer scent of his fabric softener she wouldn't have been able to tell it was clean, because it was stained with paint of a dozen different colors. Likewise, his jeans. They were so old they were nearly white. From age and perhaps hundreds of wearings, they were worn thin in places, especially on the knees—one of which was ripped all the way through. If she wasn't mistaken, she saw a few different colors of paint on his jeans, too.

She was curious to see if his socks would be in the same condition as the rest of his clothes, but his feet were bare.

Even though Shanna was wearing her shoes and he had nothing to add to his height, he still towered over her.

She looked up. Way up. Just as she had the first time they met.

His cheeks darkened. “This is a surprise.”

She held up a fast-food bag. “I brought food.”

One eyebrow quirked. “Food? But”—he checked his watch—“it's a little late for supper, isn't it?” He peeked over her shoulder with no effort. “Where are the kids?”

“They're in good hands. May I come in?”

His cheeks darkened even more, all the way to his ears. “I'm sorry for being rude. I wasn't expecting you. Come in.”

He stepped aside and then closed the door behind her.

She had never been to his home before, but it was exactly as she had pictured it would be. There was no sense of coordination or décor, yet for the all the mismatches, everything fit together to make a warm and cozy home. Fluffy cushions were strewn haphazardly on the biggest couch she'd ever seen. The coffee table was piled with newspapers, magazines, and a few fiction books, one spread open for lack of a bookmark, as was his Bible, the same one she'd seen him with in church.

Taking a guess, she headed in the direction of where she thought the kitchen would be.

She bit her bottom lip as she passed his bedroom, complete with an unmade bed and the clothes she'd seen him wearing earlier that day, lying in a pile on the floor.

He'd had a home-cooked meal; she could tell, because he hadn't yet done the dishes. The dishwasher was wide open, still half filled with clean dishes waiting to be put away.

“I wasn't expecting company,” Brendan muttered behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I only had twenty dollars on me, so this was the best I could do on short notice. But if you want, I can take you out tomorrow for an expensive dinner and do this properly.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “Please tell me you mean what I think you mean.”

She walked to him and rested her hands on the sides of his waist. “That's exactly what I mean. I love you, and I'd be the happiest woman in the world if you'd marry me and my little family. If the offer is still open.”

His answer came in the form of a kiss, immediate, passionate, and all-consuming.

And she kissed him back in exactly the same way.

The hamburgers and fries never did get eaten. By the time they separated, she didn't have time to sit down. She had to rush back home so John could go home and get to bed. After all, he had to go to work in the morning.

“Wait.” Brendan raised his hand and rested it on the door, keeping it closed. “Not that I think you'd change your mind, but when is this going to happen?”

Shanna shrugged her shoulders. “I hadn't thought that far in advance.”

Brendan cupped her face with his hands and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “I don't believe in long engagements. How about setting a date for Harry's first open weekend?”

Her heart nearly burst with joy. “I could do that. I guess this means you want to get married at my church, not your own?”

His hands slid down to her shoulders. “I don't know; I think it would be a tough decision. But I have an idea for meeting in the middle. Instead of having to decide between the two, let's get married in the place we met.”

“The place we met?” She pictured clearly the first time she met him. Pastor Harry had brought Brendan to her home so he could give her an estimate. “We met for the first time in my backyard.”