Unlikely Praise (12 page)

He approached the door and would have rung the bell if not for the two strips of shiny silver duct tape that covered the button. He knocked, instead. There was a scratch and high-pitched bark on the other side. As the door opened, the yappy dog came out to prance at his feet and sniff his boots. The welcoming scent of a traditional Sunday afternoon home-cooked meal wafted towards him like a comforting cloud and pulled him forward.

Jess stood by the door in a flowery blue skirt, simple white shirt, and no shoes. “Come in. Come in.” She repeated the phrase several times and made large sweeping gestures with her arm as if to make sure he knew it was safe to enter.

“Get in here, Rufus.” The stern male voice from behind Jess bounced off the walls in the small tile entry. The dog responded immediately, its tiny claws clicking their way across the hard floor and into the carpeted living area.

Jess ushered him inside and closed the door. “Shade, this is my husband, Robert Barnett.”

The man’s tentative smile and sturdy handshake did little to ease the tension in what Shade had already decided was one of the most harrowing moments of his life—and he’d had some doozies.

“Good to meet you, Robert.”

“Bobby,” he corrected. “Call me Bobby.” He motioned for Shade to follow him. “Have a seat.”

Shade scanned the room. There was a playpen, but no baby.

Jess touched his arm as they walked. “Rachel’s asleep. Church wears her out. She takes a bottle and goes right down when we get home. She’ll be up soon.”

His disappointment was tinged with relief. One thing at a time. “Something smells good.”

“I’m roasting a chicken,” Jess said. “It’s almost done.”

Shade nodded. He already regretted agreeing to join them for lunch. Talk, yes. Eat, no. With the lump in his throat and the stress in the room, how were they ever going to sit around a roasted chicken and even
pretend
to be able to eat together?

In well synchronized movements, Jess and Bobby sat on the couch. She smoothed her skirt, he loosened his tie. She flipped her hair off her shoulder; he poked his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose.

Shade took the wingback chair across from them. Rufus immediately scampered over and began to lick the ends of his boots. Shade reached out to pet him, but wasn’t sure where to start. Short on hair and long on tongue, the wheezing canine darted from foot to foot, occasionally tilting his head to gaze up at him with a pair of wide-set glassy eyes. He swiped his hand across the dog’s nearly bare back. “Where’s Savannah?”

Jess smiled. “She’s at my parents’ house. We’re in the process of repairing the deck and fence in the backyard. She’s safer over there while all that’s going on. You know how high energy she is.”

“I know,” he agreed and couldn’t help but return the smile as he remembered the well-trained Border Collie she used to sneak backstage at their concerts. Despite the noise and chaos, Savannah would sleep in the wings with her black and white head resting on her silky front paws. Now
that
was a dog. He glanced at Rufus who had now licked his way to the heel of his boot.
This
was a genetic mutation.

Bobby straightened at the familiarity in their exchange and clamped his hand on his wife’s knee. “Go lay down, Rufus,” he ordered.

Jess patted his hand as if to comfort him. His frown faded. Slightly.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Bobby offered.

“No, thanks.”

Shade glanced around the room as he sat back in the chair. The television was old, but the couch was new. The recliner in the corner was in shreds, but the area rugs scattered around the large living area had yet to flatten out where they’d been rolled up in the store. He studied the nervous couple huddled on the couch. No doubt about it. They cared for each other and were trying to build a life together one home furnishing at a time.

Jess plucked a baby blanket off the end of the couch and started to fold it. “Your mom and dad have been a big help on Wednesdays, Shade.”

“I appreciate you keeping them in the loop while I got settled.”

Everyone in the room knew that by “settled” he meant many things, including “sober.”

Bobby sat back and crossed his arms. “And you’re completely settled, now?”

The arrow of cool cynicism was straight and to the gut. Shade had expected it and welcomed the opportunity to move past it no matter how much
Bobby
seemed to enjoy drawing the bow.

“I’m sober. Have been for months. Not going back there.” He paused. “Business is good, and I’m through with physical therapy. Time to move on.”

Jess blinked and smiled, and smiled and blinked, as she kept watch over the tense conversation. “An-y-way,” she said through a sigh, “including your parents was the right thing to do, Shade. I’ve known your mother most of my life. And babies need their grandparents.”

“Again, I appreciate that. My parents have been very supportive while I’ve gone through recovery, but they knew I had to do a lot of it on my own. They’ve shared pictures and information, but I want you to know that time with Rachel has been their own. As much as I wanted to get involved, I thought that should happen between us first.”

“That’s good of you,” she said. “We’ve had a lot of adjusting here, too, so I appreciate that. Timing is everything.”

Shade searched his mind for ways to maneuver through the still-cloudy waters of their meeting. He turned his attention to Bobby, who hadn’t moved or lifted his frosty gaze from Shade’s jugular for several minutes. “So, uh, Jess told me you were in the oil business?”

“Yeah, I work for a pump servicing company.” He scooted forward on the couch and clasped his hands in front of him. “I travel to different wells and maintain the pump equipment.”

“Does that include sales and installation?”

“Nah, that’s a different division. I do repair work. Mostly electrical.”

The conversation died again.

“What church did you say you’d found?” Jess asked.

“I’m at Cornerstone Fellowship. How about you?”

“We go with Bobby’s parents to the Cowboy Church.”

Somewhere in the house, a timer beeped.

Jess jumped up. “Chicken’s done. I’ll go put lunch on the table.”

Bobby grabbed her hand. “No, sit. I’ll do it. What about those rolls?”

“Just stick them in the oven.” She sat back down. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

He shot Shade a warning glance. “Go ahead and talk. Rachel will be awake soon.”

As Bobby disappeared into the kitchen, Shade covered his face with his hands. “Aw, Jess, this is brutal.”

“It’s not so bad. You guys are doing fine.”

He wandered to the bay window and absently pushed aside the ivory sheers to peer out at the street. “I knew this would be hard, but that guy
hates
me.” He turned back around and gestured toward the kitchen. “How big a knife does he have in there?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just a little scared, that’s all. This is hard for him, too, you know.”

“What’s he got to be afraid of? He’s holding all the cards.”

“No, he’s not.” She motioned for him to sit back down.

He took an uneasy step back toward the chair.

Jess glanced at the doorway to the kitchen and lowered her voice. “You don’t get it, do you? You and I have a history. He’s not a part of that, and he feels threatened by it. Put yourself in his place. He’s a great, handsome guy with a lot of wonderful qualities, but he’s not a rock star. I mean, look at you...all that music video leather and hair. You carry yourself with that bigger-than-life rock star smile and confidence. No guy would want you showing up to see his wife. You get it?”

“C’mon, Jess, this is me you’re talkin’ to. You, of all people, know I’m not that guy. Especially not now.”

“I know that and you know that. Bobby doesn’t. You two are going to have to find a level of trust.”

“I’m trying, but this isn’t about you and me. It’s about me and Rachel.”

“Exactly. He loves that baby and is very protective of us.”

Everything she said confused him more. “Should I get a lawyer?”

She jerked back as if slapped. “
What
?
No
! Do you
want
to get a lawyer?”

“Of course not. I can’t afford a lawyer, but I thought it might make him feel better if there were some clear and negotiated boundaries regarding financial matters and visitation and—”

“And you don’t think we can do that?”

He left his chair again. “All I know is you’re married to some guy who knows my baby better than I do, and this whole visit is making me crazy.”

She joined him at the window. “C’mon, Shade. We can do this. We
have
to do this for Rachel.”

Panic settled in his chest. His heart pounded so hard his ribs seemed to vibrate. He wasn’t ready for this. Seeing Jess, facing Bobby...it was harder than he imagined. Now, more questions than answers flooded his mind, and the anger and guilt he thought he’d dealt with suddenly exploded in his brain. All he wanted to do was talk to her like they used to, but nothing was the same, and he sure didn’t want to do all this emotional stuff in front of
Bobby
. He thanked God Rachel was asleep. He wasn’t ready...

Jess tugged at his sleeve. “Shade, look at me. I have to tell you something.”

He met her teary, blue gaze. “This is too hard.”

“Just listen. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby sooner. And I’m sorry that when I did tell you, it was at a time when you couldn’t do anything about it. I know that doesn’t seem fair, but I had some difficult decisions to make.”

He struggled to take in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, too. I know if I’d treated you better, or listened to you more, or did the right thing once in a while, you wouldn’t have had those difficult decisions to make. I know it’s my fault. I know you did what you had to do because I wasn’t the man I needed to be.”

She seemed a little stunned as she stepped back and wiped tears from under her eyes.

His pulse evened out. “Now what?”

“Now, this should get easier.” Her smile was hopeful.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Her gentle laugh eased him further. “Look, Shade, if it makes you feel any better, I know in my heart that Rachel and I are where we’re supposed to be. I believe God has answered prayer and directed my path. I’m where I belong.” She touched his arm. “And for what it’s worth, I think you are, too.”

Shade’s cluttered mind faded to black. He shrugged. “I can’t think of one more constructive thing to say.”

Jess pulled him toward the hallway. “C’mon. I know what will make this better.”

Bobby stepped out of the kitchen with an oven mitt on one hand and a dish towel slung over his shoulder. “Everything OK?”

“Everything’s fine,” she said. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

“What about the potatoes?”

“Put them in the microwave and zap ‘em for a few minutes, would you, please?”

Shade followed her to a small bedroom. He stopped at the door to the classic nursery that had a crib on one side and a rocker by the window. A giant mural of a peaceful forest scene covered the wall across from where the baby slept. With mossy rocks, vibrant wood ferns, and tall trees, it had been painted to look as though you could walk right into the woods. Leave it to Jess to make it all about nature.

She waited by the crib. “C’mon over.”

“We’ll wake her up,” he whispered.

“She’s due to wake up, anyway.”

He stepped closer and rested his hand on the rail. He’d imagined her in his mind and formed his expectations from photos and what his mother had said. But nothing could have prepared him for the precious bundle in the snow-white sleeper as she lie fast asleep with her tiny fists at her sides and her plump rosy lips pressed together in a steady sucking motion.

Jess brushed the side of the baby’s face with her finger. The little mouth opened in a wide yawn. “I think meeting your daughter will help. Up until now, you’ve felt a biological bond, but having never met, you don’t have any emotional bond. We need to fix that.”

Rachel moved her arms and legs and her eyelids fluttered in response to her mother’s voice.

Shade reached in to touch one hand as she brought the other to her mouth.

Her eyes opened.

Love at first sight.

7

From:
Pastor Charles Littleton

[mailto:[email protected]]

Sent:
Monday, April 27 12:00 PM

To:
Candi Canaberry <
[email protected]
>

CC:
Shade Blackledge <
[email protected]
>

Subject:
Power in Praise Worship Conference

Candi:

Thanks for the workshop outlines for the conference. I’ll forward them to the conference director. Pastor Hartley is looking forward to meeting you and Shade in June. I’ll ask Ms. Mattie to get with you on all the travel and registration details.

Charles

Candi turned her windshield wipers on high. Texas rain was like that. There’d be none for weeks, and then a month’s worth would fall in one day and flood low-lying roads and parking lots.

To make matters worse, it was Monday. And Monday was the day she checked her mail. She’d weighed the pros and cons of her once-a-week-pick-up and found that between paying bills online and e-mail correspondence, her means of communication had become virtually paperless. Anyone she cared to contact—or wished to hear from—was just a text message away, and most of what she retrieved from her mailbox ended up in the recycle bin, anyway. If something of importance did happen to arrive via snail mail, it usually didn’t require a do-or-die response within seven days.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. So despite the pounding rain and her desire to get home, she would stop for her mail and not further push the limits of her carrier’s good will.