Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring (23 page)

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Authors: Catherine Palmer,Gary Chapman

BOOK: Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring
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Despite her dark mood and troubled heart, Brenda couldn't help but enjoy the company of Ashley, Kim, and Esther. Of course,
Patsy always lifted Brenda's spirits, and she kept the salon a quiet,
wholesome place where it was hard to grumble or tell nasty stories
about other people. Regular tea meetings might actually be sort of
enjoyable. Even helpful.

Was it possible that Ashley really would invite Brenda and Steve
over for friend chicken? They were old enough to be her parents.
And should Brenda really ask Brad Hanes for help in her garden?
She needed a bridge built over the drainage ditch at the edge of the
yard, but she had been toying with asking Nick LeClair to take on
the job.

"How about some Sunday evening?" Ashley asked, turning to
Brenda. "I know you guys usually go to church, but that's the only
time Brad and I are both off at night. I could fix my fried chicken
and some mashed potatoes."

Brenda studied the young woman's warm brown eyes and saw
in them a reflection of her own frustration and loneliness. "That
sounds wonderful, Ashley," she said. "How about if I bring my
chocolate cake?"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Esther cut in. "Charlie was making the
rounds on his golf cart the other evening, and he swears he saw that
backward boy ... what was his name, Brenda? The homeless fellow
who liked chocolate cake and slept on your porch swing?"

?"
"CodY•

"That's him. Charlie said he saw Cody down by the lake, poking
around on the dock. Charlie was about to run him off, but then he
realized who it was and decided to leave him be. Figured he was
probably looking for something to eat."

"Oh, great," Ashley said. "If that guy starts hanging around the
neighborhood again, Brad is going to get so ticked off. He doesn't
want anyone touching his truck."

"But this is just the kind of thing the TLC can take on," Kim
insisted. "If Cody comes into Deepwater Cove again, instead of being upset about him, let's figure out how to help. Brenda wasn't
scared of him, were you?"

"Not at all. Cody's like a child. In fact, I hope he does come
back."

"I'm not sure I'm going to be the best person to have in this club
of yours," Ashley murmured. "I work a lot of hours, and Brad has
strong ideas about things, and ... well ... maybe you guys should
go on without me."

"No ma'am," Patsy said firmly. "You have every bit as much
right to share your ideas and opinions as anyone else, Ashley
Hanes. I'm going to clear my schedule for next Wednesday at
three, and I want to hear about Ashley's supper and Brenda's yard
project and Kim's and Esther's efforts to keep that video store out
of Tranquility."

"What about you?" Ashley asked. "What are you going to do for
the TLC?"

"I'm going to donate tea and goodies for everyone who comes to
the club meeting." She smiled and gave one of her highlighted curls
a twirl. "Well, Kim, I see the school bus coming up the highway.
Ashley, your nails are dry, so you don't have to keep 'em spreadeagled on the table that way. Esther, it's been good to see you today.
Brenda, don't be a stranger. And now I need to get back to my
perm.

As the women stood to leave, Brenda felt the first wave of peace
and fulfillment she had experienced in months. For one whole
hour, she had not mourned her children, gotten angry with her
husband, or been tempted toward another man. Instead, she had
been sent on a mission-one that might help a young friend. And
she had been given hope that she and Steve might enjoy an evening
out together. Cody possibly could return, and the basement would
become her sanctuary for sewing and potting plants. Maybe Ashley
would come over and make necklaces in the craft area. Or Kim
could bring the twins by to play in the big backyard Brenda kept so
perfectly manicured.

As she walked out of Just As I Am into the gentle spring rain,
waved good-bye to the other members of the TLC, and climbed
into her car, Brenda decided she didn't need Nick LeClair to fill the
empty place in her heart. She had friends, hobbies, and now even a
tea club.

Maybe God had been listening to her prayers last fall when she
had felt so alone and had cried out to Him in anguish. Maybe He
was with her now, in the cold, stony silences when she couldn't
even bring herself to pray. Maybe-just maybe-things were
going to be all right after all.

(Steve took off his shoes and crept through the house, hoping he
wouldn't wake Brenda. Ever since Jessica had left to spend spring
break with her boyfriend at Table Rock Lake, Brenda had resumed
her bleak outlook. Steve was about ready to call that handyman
from A-1 Remodeling back to work. At least with Nick LeClair in
the basement, Brenda had something to keep herself busy, and she
wasn't quite so resentful when Steve had to work late.

Tonight had been one of those evenings when dinner at the
country club just seemed to go on and on. He had tried several
times to leave politely, but his client had come all the way from St.
Louis to look at luxury lakefront homes, and she viewed the dinner
as a way to evaluate each house room by room. Even so, Steve
might have found a way to escape her, but this woman had been
different. She promised not only a lucrative sale, but the possibility
of a whole new venture for Steve.

If things at home had been normal, he would have loved to
climb into bed, snuggle up next to Brenda, and tell her all about it.
Before all this moodiness came over her, she used to kiss his neck and undo his tie and sit on his lap while he told her about his day.
Steve had loved that. He would have done just about anything to
feel his wife cuddling in his arms and kissing him.

As Steve had suggested, Brenda had gone to visit Pastor Andrew,
but she hadn't changed a bit for the better. Pastor Andrew recommended that she and Steve come in for some joint counseling ...
just to tweak their marriage back into shape after such significant
life changes as Steve's new line of work and the kids going off to
college. But Steve had wanted nothing to do with that, especially
since he felt sure Brenda was the cause of their problems. He told
her to go to the doctor, and after that, they would talk about what
to do next.

The Hansens' family doctor had run some blood tests, asked
Brenda a bunch of questions, and determined that she probably
wasn't yet starting the change of life. That sent Steve's primary theory right down the drain. Fit, healthy, and active, Brenda appeared
to be in great physical shape, the doctor had told her. He acknowledged that she might be struggling to adjust to the absence of her
children, and he suggested a mild antidepressant. Brenda had
turned him down. She wasn't depressed, she had assured him. Just
fed up.

So the Hansens were back to being two icebergs in bed, barely
speaking in the morning, rarely calling by phone during the day,
and almost never seeing each other at night. It reminded Steve of a
scene in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, a book he had listened to Brenda read time and again to the children. The wicked,
icy White Witch of Narnia had turned a faun and several other
characters into stone. That's exactly how the Hansen house felt,
Steve thought as he tiptoed toward the master bedroom. Like
Narnia, where it was always winter but never Christmas. And no
promise of a thaw.

Drinking down a deep breath for fortitude, he slowly pushed
open the bedroom door, praying it wouldn't squeak. As he inched
into the room, he noticed that Brenda's light was on. Propped up on a stack of pillows, she looked at him over the edge of an open
book.

"It's nearly two," she said.

Steve raked his fingers through his hair and dropped his shoes
on the floor. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I figured you'd be asleep
by now."

"Where have you been?" Her voice was clipped, the words tight,
as if struggling to emerge from a heart that was frozen solid.

"I was at the country club," he said. "I had a client who wanted
to-

"What's her name?"

Steve sat gingerly on the end of his side of the bed. "Uh ... Mrs.
Patterson. Jacqueline Patterson."

"Was her husband with her?"

"She's divorced. But, Brenda, don't get the wrong idea here.
Jackie has four grown children, and-"

"Oh, it's Jackie? I thought you said Jacqueline."

"Jackie is what she prefers to be called. See, the deal is that she
wants a lakefront home with room for her kids-and then the
grandkids when they come along. So I spent most of the day driving her around-"

"And then you took her out to dinner. Until two in the morning.

Steve could see where this was going, and he suddenly felt hot
and uncomfortable. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar,
and ran a finger around the back of his neck. An eight o'clock
meeting in the morning meant that he wouldn't get much sleep
tonight, and the last thing he wanted to do with his few hours of
downtime was argue with Brenda.

Steve decided the best thing to do was end this nonsense and hit
the hay. Brenda was acting strange, as usual, and he didn't know
how much longer he could take it. Pastor Andrew and the doctor
had been of little help, and Steve couldn't figure out where to turn
next. If his wife didn't get her head on straight pretty soon, he felt like he might explode. It was bad enough to be carrying around a
briefcase filled with more projects than one man could manage.
But then to come home at night and get the Spanish Inquisition.. .

"Listen," he said firmly. "Jackie Patterson is a wealthy woman
from St. Louis. She wants to invest in a large lake house, and I
intend to be the agent who finds one for her. But Jackie is different
from most of my clients. She's got a head for business, and she
knows what to do with her money. We had a long talk not only
about houses but about other things."

"Oh, really?" Brenda said, snapping her book shut. "You know,
Ihad some things to tell you tonight, Steve. Things that are important and interesting to me. I had hoped to talk to you about my life
and some exciting news that I have to share. But I guess Jackie
Patterson and her money and her head for business were more
attractive to you."

"It's not that way, Brenda!" He stood, wanting to flee. "You
make it sound like I'm having an illicit relationship with the
woman.

"You're having an affair."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are. If it's not Jackie Patterson or someone else, it's
certainly your job. You love it. You nurture it. You'd do anything
for it. You would sacrifice your marriage for it, wouldn't you? I
may only be good at choosing the right shades of green for a basement wall, but I'm not stupid. It hardly even matters whether
there's a woman involved, Steve. You've left me. You replaced your
wife and our relationship with a real-estate agency, a precious bank
account, and a bunch of rich clients."

"I have not done that, and frankly I'm too exhausted to sit
around here and get yelled at by you. I'll sleep in Justin's room."

"You do, Steve Hansen, and you won't ever get back into this
bed. If you care about me at all anymore, you have to show it. You
have to fight for me. If you aren't willing to do that, then I don't see
how we can go on."

"What are you saying? You want a divorce?"

"I don't want a divorce. I would never want that. But who can
live in a marriage that's only a mirage? Every time I think I see hope
ahead, I reach out ... but there's nothing to touch. We used to love
each other, Steve. We used to enjoy spending time together. We
would sit together and rock for hours on the porch swing or play
half the day in the lake with the kids. You took time to ask me
about what I had been doing, and at night you were always right
here in bed beside me. But now your time belongs to someone else.
All you want to do is be with your mistress."

"Brenda, would you stop saying that? There's no mistress, and
I'm not having an affair. How can you even think I've abandoned
our marriage in favor of my job? Lots of people work hard, long
hours. I'm one of them, and it feels good. For once in my life, I'm
proud of myself. People admire and respect me. I'm accomplishing
important things, and I like that a lot. I'm finally a success ... but
you've put me in the doghouse for it. You won't touch me. You
treat me as though I've got some kind of disease. If I even get near,
you run in the opposite direction. We have no love life. We might
as well be strangers. Tonight when I came into the house, I thought
how nice it would be to hold you in my arms and tell you about
everything that's going on at the office. But then you started in on
this ridiculous nonsense about an affair. All you ever do is attack
me ... that, or shun me."

"What wife would want to wait up until two in the morning
while her husband spends his entire day with another woman? You
can't expect me to feel tender toward you if you treat me like that."

"Like what?" Steve yanked off his tie. "I'm not treating you like
anything. You're the same wife I've been married to all these years,
and I'm not doing anything different toward you. It's not me who's
different-it's you. I don't freeze you out every time you come
near. I don't make accusations about you having an affair with
someone. I just do my work and try to be a good man. Why does
that make you so angry?"

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