Pretense (29 page)

"How about 10:30?"

"Okay. Are you sure about this?

"Yes. Tell me where you live."

Marrell gave him directions, and they parted company, but many items were left off her list. She was so stunned she couldn't think. She actually held together all the way home but then sat in the apartment parking lot and prayed.

I
hadn'teven remembered to ask for Your help, but You sent jack anyway. Thank You, Lord. Thank You for seeing to every need. Help Delancey to acceptJack's help.can't do it for her, and Shay and Oliver already do so much.

Still sniffing with emotion, she lugged bags of groceries up the stairs to find that Jack was right: Both girls were still sound asleep.

"Do I have to, Mom?" Delancey asked for the third time, but she was not angry, only embarrassed.

"Yes, honey. You'll find that he's very nice. Mackenzie's been trying since nine o'clock, and it's just not working. You certainly know I can't help you." Her tone was dry. "At least listen to what Jack has to say. Maybe it won't be any clearer, but we can say we tried, and I'll let your teacher know if you need extra help."

Delancey nodded but felt her face heat all over again. The thought of some strange man coming in and showing her how to do something that confounded her was nothing short of humiliating. She had tried so hard to understand what Mackenzie was saying, but Mackenzie was naturally good at math and had a hard time telling anyone how she did what came so easily to her.

As was Delancey's habit when she was nervous, she sought out food. She had just dished up a huge bowl of ice cream when the doorbell rang. She heard her mother answer but couldn't

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make herself leave the table. She was stunned to see a man from church come around the corner to the kitchen table. She barely noticed her mother in the background.

"Algebra and ice cream," he said with a smile. "That's a winning combination."

"Do you want some?" Delancey offered without thinking.

"Sure." Jack answered and sat down at the table to peruse the math book, noticing that Marrell had quietly slipped away. "I'm Jack, by the way," he called to the tall blond in the kitchen.

"Oh, right. I'm Delancey."

"Nice to meet you."

"You're my mom's boss?"

"Guilty as charged."

Delancey found herself smiling. She liked the way he said things.

"I didn't know how much you wanted." Delancey set a small bowl down in front of him. It was piled high with chocolate ice cream.

"This is fine. Tell me, Delancey, is this where you are?" He pointed to a page in the book.

"Yes. Well, I'm not, but the rest of the class is."

"Okay, so we need to back up to where?"

And with that they were off. Forty-five minutes flew by, and Delancey was still frowning in confusion. Jack was the soul of patience, calmly explaining concepts until, more than an hour later, Delancey knew what she was doing. Jack was careful never to let on how delightful it was to have her face dawn with understanding and her eyes roll with impatience that it had taken her so long.

"Can we do one more?" she asked a little before noon.

"We can do the whole book. I love anything to do with numbers."

"Then why are you an architect?"

Jack laughed. "I can tell that you don't really know what an architect does."

Delancey blushed all over again, but Jack only grinned at her.

Marrell had been back and forth a few times, but while they had been busy in the kitchen, she and Mackenzie had cleaned the rest of the house. It was getting on to lunchtime, and she

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thought she should at least make the offer. As long as Jack had been there, Marrell expected him to decline. He surprised her.

"Sure, I'll stay. Anytime I don't have to cook suits me fine."

Until that point Marrell had not been sure he was single.

"Well, good," she said sincerely, hating to send him away hungry. "It won't be fancy, but since I just shopped, you should get enough."

"Don't forget to warn him, Mom." Mackenzie's voice came from the edge of the room.

"Of what?" Marrell asked, but she knew.

"You know," Mackenzie replied indulgently.

Marrell tried not to smile and turned to find Jack watching her.

"This is Delancey's older sister, Jack. Mackenzie, please meet my boss, Jack Avery."

"Hello."

"Hello." Jack held out his hand. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

"No, she's not," Marrell cut in, still fighting laughter. "We'll suffice it to say that my cooking gets little respect in this house."

Mackenzie grinned at her mom and took a place at the table.

"How'd it go, D.J.?"

"Good. He's a better teacher than you are, Mic."

"That's no surprise. I don't even work with a partner at school."

"Hopeless," her sister said, writing all the while.

Jack checked her progress but then turned to Mackenzie.

"I think your mom told me you play basketball."

"Yeah, this is my first year."

"But you made the team."

Mackenzie smiled. "Um-hm. I can't think why."

"She's being modest, Jack. She never misses from the free- throw line."

"Impressive."

Mackenzie smiled again. She had felt sorry for Delancey when she heard he would be coming, but he seemed pretty cool, and Delancey was as relaxed as a cat in the sun.

"Mic, wash your hands and shred this lettuce for me. D.J., if you're done there, please clear the table, wash it, and set it."

"Are you going to put me to work?" Jack asked.

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"I think you've worked enough."

He was not convinced and came further into the kitchen to ask again.

"What can I do?"

"Well, you could wash your hands," she said automatically, "reach up into the cupboard, and get four glasses. The ice is in the freezer, and the Pepsi is on the counter."

"Will do."

They sat down to lunch about 20 minutes later, and Jack offered to pray. Marrell did not expect to feel the way she did. It seemed as though she hadn't heard Paul pray in years. Hearing a man's voice, she suddenly missed him so much that she had to force herself to eat. No one at the table seemed to notice, and by the time everyone's plate was full, she had managed to compose herself.

"I've seen you at church, haven't I?" Delancey asked.

"Yes, I've seen you too."

This was news to Marrell, so she kept quiet. She wondered if she might be too wrapped up in her own little world, and not just since Paul died. Jack had probably been going to the church for years.

"Do you live in a house you designed?" Mackenzie suddenly asked, and Marrell was a bit alarmed, thinking it wasn't any of their business.

"No, I've designed some nice homes, but I live in the top story of a house that's been converted into an apartment."

"Do you wish you could live in a house you designed?"

"I will someday, but right now this is easier. Reasonably priced property is hard to come by in San Francisco, and I don't have time to take care of a lawn and yard. When I retire in 25 years, I'll look into it."

"You're going to retire young," Marrell said before she thought and stopped herself.

"At 65? I don't think that's too young."

Marrell's mouth hung open, and she blushed when he grinned at her. With that boyish smile and smooth face-not a crow's-foot in sight-he did not look 40. Marrell wasn't sure if he was having one on her or not.

"He was nice," Delancey said to her mother an hour later. Jack had just left.

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"He is nice, D.J. Easy to work for too. I'm glad he was to help you. Do you think you have it under control?" "The algebra, yes, but I'm still way behind in English." That was a little more Marrell's speed, so she told herto getit out. It wasn't what the younger Bishop wanted to hear, but asMarrell pointed out, she had already had her time off. It wastime toget to work.

"I think you'd better get that look out of your eye, Sharon Lacy," her husband told her firmly the next day. They had just driven out of the church parking lot. "It's way too soon."

"I know, Oliver, but Jack Avery is a doll, and I just can't stand the thought that Marrell would be alone for the rest of her life."

"But you saw her face when she said he had been there. It meant nothing to her. She probably doesn't even see him, and if she did, at this point I would be telling her to go slow. A woman in grief does not think as she normally would."

Shay's sigh was huge. "I can't help wishing I could see his face whenh
er name
is mentioned."

"I assure you, there wouldn't be anything to see."

"How do you know what he feels for her?"

"I don't, but I've been in the same prayer breakfast with Jack for more than three years. He's not a man who wears his feelings on his sleeve."

Shay sighed again. She knew it was too soon for Marrell to be interested in anyone, and that had not been her intent when she had steered the new widow toward the job at Bayside. But since then it had occurred to her that it might be a wonderful thing for Jack and Marrell to find each other. Shay said nothing else to Oliver, but she couldn't help but think that it was a very good idea.

For some reason New Year's Eve was the hardest. Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, and Christmas had all been rough, but the last night of 1982 was almost more than Marrell could take. Mackenzie had been asked out, but Marrell said no, so the three of them had popped corn, drank soft drinks, sat in front of the TV until midnight, and then watched the rerun of the ball dropping on Times Square.

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But midnight was long past and she was still awake, the queen-size bed feeling huge on her own. Marrell missed her husband so much her skin ached. January 5 would be seven months, but right now it felt like forever.

Thinking she was the only one awake, Marrell was surprised when Mackenzie knocked softly on her door and came in.

"Mom?"

"Yes."

"Are you asleep?"

"No. Come in."

Mackenzie came forward and sat on the end of the bed.

"I can't stop thinking about Dad." There were tears in her voice.

"Come up here." She patted Paul's pillow and waited for Mackenzie to crawl beneath the covers. Marrell put an arm around her and lay close, Mackenzie's head on her arm.

"I was just missing him too. It feels so much longer than it is." Marrell was quiet before saying, "I know I've told you about Grandma studying her Bible for clues about heaven, but I don't know if I told you that I've been doing some of that myself. And the thing that jumps out the most to me, Micki, is not to feel sorry for your dad."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Remember that great time we had at the Lacys' orchard for Thanksgiving? I had to force myself to remember that your father didn't envy us. He's in heaven. He's able to talk with God and be at perfect rest. He wasn't looking down at us and thinking, 'Why couldn't I have stayed and gone to Sebastopol too?'"

Mackenzie's shoulders moved in silent laughter. It was such a funny image.

"It's me I feel sorry for," Marrell said. "I'm the selfish one for wishing your father back to this awful earth."

"I wish him back," Mackenzie admitted. "Sometimes I get angry. If he could leave, why can't I? I guess I'm just glad to know he was such a good person."

"He would be the first one to tell you he wasn't, Mackenzie," Marrell said softly, opting not to give her a sermon. There was so much she could say on that subject.

How could her two girls be so blind and stubborn? Marrell knew that a person couldn't sit in the church she attended and

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not hear the one and only way to heaven, but the Bishop girls would have nothing to do with it. They didn't complain about going, but one look at their faces when anything spiritual was mentioned, and Marrell knew they were a hundred miles away.

"Mom, why couldn't I go out with Jay Murray tonight?"

"Oh, Mic, I can't handle that right now. Jay might be a very nice boy, and I'm not trying to keep you a little girl, but having you dating is not something I'm willing to deal with right now. Do you like him a lot?"

"He's pretty nice. I wasn't all that disappointed. Mom?"

"Yeah."

"How much dating did you do?"

"I started dating when I was 15, and at first I went out a lot, but it slowed down after that."

"Why?"

"Because every guy tried something. I didn't want to play around, and every guy wanted to end our date in the backseat of his car."

Mackenzie turned to see her mother's face. "Did that really happen?"