Loving Promises Read online

  “I know you do, but we’re fine. Your mom and I have shared so many joys along the way they far outweigh the sorrows,” he added. “God’s been good to us.”

  His father’s words knocked the wind out of him. Dale’s arguments fell into dust. How could he tell his father that God hadn’t been good to them? Tomorrow. Maybe when his father got home from church, he could pursue the topic. Dale shoved the debate into the back of his mind and took a drink of coffee.

  Silence hung over them until his father rose and set his cup in the sink. When he turned, Dale saw the beginnings of a mission etched on his face. “I was hoping you’d go to church with me tomorrow.”

  Dale faltered. “Church?” Beverly Miller’s church, he recalled. He hadn’t gone in a long time, even when his father asked. “I thought I’d stay home and keep an eye on Mom while you go.”

  “I miss your mom beside me. Just thought it would be nice to have my son there for a change.”

  Sadness washed over Dale. “Okay, Dad. I’ll go with you.” Yet his thoughts had already begun to formulate tomorrow’s battle. He had to make his dad listen to reason.

  Bev guided the children into their Sunday-school rooms. She liked to attend the service that offered worship and Sunday school at the same time. When she took the kids to worship, her own attention was sacrificed. Today she needed to focus on the pastor’s message. She needed time for prayer and meditation—not time to referee her children’s arguments.

  Her mother’s expected arrival filled her with trepidation, and Bev would do anything to avoid stress between herself and her mother.

  She found a pew near the back, opened the bulletin and scanned it. The singles’ events caught her eye. She had never felt as if she were single. Yet her thoughts shifted to the man with the amazing eyes she’d met in the grocery-store parking lot the day before.

  The organ music began, and her thoughts faded. The song of praise flowed into the rafters as the worshippers’ voices rose with joy. Bev listened to the lessons, waiting for something to soothe her fears and hoping God had some special words to touch her heart.

  Nothing struck her as the pastor’s lessons closed. She bowed her head, asking God to let her heart calm and her faith be strong.

  “I’ll leave you with these words from Philippians, the fourth chapter,” Pastor Brian said as the service closed. “Think about the message during the week and let it lie on your heart.”

  Let it lie on your heart. Bev’s head lifted and her pulse tripped.

  “‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’” The pastor closed the Bible and stepped away.

  The choir rose, and Bev sat, her mouth gaping at the simple message that meant so much to her. God had heard her prayer and had sent her something to lie on her heart. With thanksgiving present your requests to God. Despite all her problems—the loss of her mate, the struggle to raise her young children, the loneliness she’d felt for an intimate love—God had kept her and her children safe and in His care.

  The choir’s praise wrapped around her heart. If she and her mother had conflicts, she would turn to the Lord in grateful prayer. She was never alone with Jesus by her side.

  A calm swept over her, and when the service ended, her steps felt lighter as she moved into the aisle. Before Bev had made any progress working her way through the worshippers, she spotted her friend from the child-care facility where she worked.

  “Annie,” Bev said, looking at the beautiful toddler in her arms. “Hi, Gracelynne. Every day she seems to grow more. Like a weed.”

  “A heavy weed,” Annie said, shifting the child’s weight. “Ken had a rush job today, or he’d be doing the toting.”

  Bev brushed the toddler’s soft cheek. When she lifted her gaze, her stomach somersaulted. Al Levin, her pharmacist, was standing with the stranger who’d been filling her thoughts. “Who is that?” she asked Annie, giving a nod in their direction.

  Annie glanced over her shoulder. “That’s Mr. Levin’s son, I think. He comes into town to visit his mother. She has MS.”

  Bev’s heart sank. She’d been rude to the man when he’d probably been preoccupied with more serious concerns. Before she could look away, their eyes met.

  The last thing Bev wanted to do was face Mr. Levin’s son. She took a step backward to make her escape, but Annie’s question stopped her.

  “Where’s your mom? I thought she’d be here.”

  Bev dragged her mind from her predicament. “She’s arriving this evening. The kids are so anxious.” She shifted farther away. “And speaking of them, I’d better go—” She stopped in midsentence, cornered.

  “Annie,” Al Levin said. “I want you to meet my son, Dale.”

  Annie hoisted Gracelynne higher on her hip, and Dale offered a handshake.

  “You’re the cookie lady,” Dale said.

  Annie’s eyebrows lifted, and Bev wondered what that meant.

  Al chuckled and explained the story, then focused on Bev. “I know we’ve met at the pharmacy, but—”

  “Bev Miller. You’ve filled lots of prescriptions for us.” She forced herself to look at Dale. “I’ve already met your son. Sort of.”

  Her “sort of” caught everyone’s attention, and she quickly explained their parking-lot accident.

  As her story ended, Gracelynne began to fidget while Annie tried to soothe her with no success. “I’d better get her home. It’s nap time.” She gave a warm smile to Dale. “Nice to meet you.”

  Al gave Dale’s arm a pat. “Hang on, would you? I need to talk to someone for just a minute.”

  He sped away, leaving Bev and Dale facing each other alone.

  Chapter Two

  Bev gaped at Dale, then words exited their mouths like one litany. “I’m sorry about—” They laughed as the amusing coincidence broke the tension.

  “We were both upset,” Bev said. “I realized after we left that you were worried more about Michael than your car.”

  Dale flexed his palm. “Nothing more needs to be said. We were both edgy.”

  Though the issue had been settled in Dale’s mind, she had more to say.

  “Your son’s name is Michael,” he said, more than asked.

  She nodded.

  “Typical boy.”

  “You probably know. I’m sure you did the same things when you were a kid.”

  “But I never got caught.”

  There you go, Bev thought, so you’re not perfect. She fiddled with her shoulder bag. She’d never known a man to look so searchingly into her eyes.

  With his gaze capturing hers, he reached toward his pocket. “By the way, this is yours.” He pulled out a wad of paper.

  As soon as it hit her hand, she recognized it. “Why are you return—”

  “I noticed a picture on the back. I suppose a drawing by one of your children. I figured you’d want it back since you’d hung on to it.”

  Bev remembered shoving the bulletin into her handbag. “Kristin, my four-year-old, sketched it.” She unfolded the sheet and glanced at the drawing. “It’s us. Our house and family.”

  “A nice one from the looks of it.”

  She eyed the bright colors and grinned. “I suppose.”

  “Flowers, smoke curling from the chimney, all signs of a child who’s happy and content,” he said. “Sometimes kids see life differently than adults do.”

  She wondered what he meant by that statement.

  Sadness filled his eyes, adding to her curiosity.

  She held up the paper. “Thanks for returning this.” She slid it into her shoulder bag and gave it a pat. “I’d better find my kids before one of them starts doing wheelies in the church parking lot.”

  “See you around.” He tucked his hands into his pants pockets.

  “Could be,” she said as her mind clung to his comment about kids
seeing life differently.

  Dale dragged the rake through the soggy leaves left behind by winter. A spring chill hung in the air, but the sun made an appearance from behind a cloud and sent the promise of warmer days.

  The weekend had brought about the unexpected, and it had nothing to do with weather. He thought of Bev Miller and her brood. He’d wondered if he would see her at the service. She was an interesting woman and, like a mother hen, so defensive of her chicks.

  Dale chuckled to himself. Thinking of chicks, Bev was definitely one. He envisioned her slender form and youthful appearance, almost too young-looking to be a mother. Though Dale dated occasionally, he would never get serious with a woman—especially one with kids. Dating might pass the long evenings in Loving after his mom went to sleep and his father settled in front of the TV. But he couldn’t date a woman with a family. She needed far more than he could give, and Bev Miller had a doozy of a family.

  He couldn’t understand why she remained in his thoughts, except he admired her spunky spirit, her devotion to her family and her smile. He could only guess she provided a distraction from his melancholy feelings.

  Dale’s mind shifted to his parents inside the house. The pharmacy was closed on Sunday, and Dale hoped his dad could get some rest today.

  His rake caught on a tree root, and Dale loosened the snag, then added more dried foliage to the pile. He had to leave for home shortly, and he faced the moment. He either had to talk with his father now or break the promise he’d made to himself. Dale didn’t like either choice.

  Hearing the back door close, Dale turned and saw his dad heading across the spongy lawn. “Thanks, but I know you have to get going soon.” He gestured toward the pile. “Just leave that. I can use it for compost.”

  Agreeing, Dale dragged the debris to the back corner of the yard, then propped the rake beside the back stoop. His father followed him up the stairs and into the back hallway.

  Dale took off his shoes and set them on a mat. His father did the same, and, stocking-clad, they walked into the kitchen. “How about some coffee before you leave?”

  “No, thanks,” Dale said, pulling out a chair and sitting at the kitchen table, “but I do think we need to talk about Mom.”

  His father’s head snapped upward, and a wary look settled on his face. “What about Mom? I thought we talked about this yesterday.”

  “We did, but I didn’t say all I needed to say. Can you sit for a minute?”

  Al moved toward the table as if he’d rather do anything else in the world. When he reached it, he turned the chair sideways and sat. He clasped his hands together, his elbows draped on his knees, and stared at the floor. “I love your mother with all my heart, and I wish I could make things different for her.”

  “But you can’t, Dad.” Dale wanted so badly to ask the Lord for help, but he fought the urge. Why give in to a God who promised compassion, then showed none? “Dad, you’re killing yourself. Working all day at the pharmacy while running back and forth to meet Mom’s needs is doing you in. The doctor told you the same thing. You can’t keep this up without getting some help.”

  Al swiveled on the chair and stared at the tabletop a moment before facing him. “I have help, Son. The Lord is my strength. I read the Bible every night, and God is with me. I made a promise many years ago to stick by your mother in sickness and in—”

  “Dad, I’m not suggesting you don’t stick by Mom. I’m suggesting you get help.”

  Al pulled his shoulders back and riveted his gaze to Dale’s. “I’m not putting your mother in a home.”

  “You don’t have to. Let’s find someone to come in and help out. A caregiver. You could find someone in Loving to come in a few hours a day.”

  His father’s determined expression didn’t waver. “I can’t ask your mother to let a stranger dress her.”

  Another thought came to Dale’s mind. “Could you hire someone to fill in at the pharmacy and you stay home with Mom, or maybe work part-time for a while?”

  His father gave him a blank stare. “I can’t do that now, Dale. One day, but not now.”

  Dale grasped his father’s knotted hands, longing to make him listen. “Please, then just think about hiring someone. If you believe God is listening, ask him to help you find the right person.”

  Al shifted his gaze and shook his head. “You disappoint me, Son. You were raised in the faith. Why don’t you know that the Lord is filled with compassion and mercy?”

  Dale’s chest tightened and he lifted his hand as he pointed a quaking finger toward the doorway. “Do you see any mercy in that bedroom, Dad?”

  His father’s eyes widened, but he didn’t respond.

  “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry…but I don’t see one particle of mercy in that room at all.”

  Friday evening, Bev aimed the shopping cart down the canned-goods aisle. Since her mother’s arrival, Bev had had a reprieve from cooking. Her mother had taken over, and although they’d had a few stressful moments when it came to disciplining the kids, sharing her home hadn’t been too bad.

  Besides being preoccupied with her mother’s arrival, Bev couldn’t help thinking of Dale. Seeing him at the worship service validated her finding. Dale had been more concerned about Michael than his car. She’d wanted to tell him her feelings at church, but he’d stopped her.

  She still couldn’t wipe the cart incident from her thoughts. If a car had been speeding through the parking lot that day, Michael might have been injured. Speeding. Even speeding with a grocery cart caused her heart to stand still. Since her husband’s death, every time Bev saw a motorcycle tear down the highway, anger flamed inside her. Anger and sadness.

  Jesse had tried to be a good husband and father. He spent time with the kids and paid the bills, but his love of speed and excitement had ended his life too soon. She wished he’d been half as concerned about racing as Dale Levin, who’d cautioned Michael to be careful. Jesse hadn’t listened any better than their son. But she had loved him when they’d married, and she missed many things about him, despite their problems.

  Still, life went on. Bev kept her two lively children dressed and well-fed. And loved. That’s what counted. Being on her own had its faults, but no more than being in a stressful relationship.

  Bev glanced at her list, eyed the shelves and selected a couple of cans of corn, then headed for the green beans.

  “Hello.”

  Her hand faltered, and she turned toward the voice. Her pulse skittered when she saw his face. “Dale. What are you doing here?”

  “Same as you.” He grinned and gestured to the basket. “I’m shopping for my folks. We’re having company tomorrow, my dad tells me.”

  She waited, thinking he’d say something else, but he didn’t. Finally she said it. “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

  He’d caught the movie title, she noticed from his grin. Yet a puzzled look settled on his face.

  “An old high-school friend,” he said.

  “Mildred Browne.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “How do you know that? Dad called her Millie.”

  She enjoyed having the upper hand. “She’s my mother.”

  “You’re kidding.” He shifted his cart to the side and rested his elbow against the handle. “How long will she be here?”

  Bev ran her hand over her hair, sensing he was staring at it. “She decided to move back to town. My dad died a few years ago and she had nothing to hold her back from coming home. She grew up here.”

  “She’s living with you?”

  His gaze washed over her, and she suddenly felt uneasy. “Temporarily. She’ll get her own place. Right now, Mom’s goal is to renew old acquaintances and enjoy retirement. She’s only fifty-nine.”

  “Wise goal.” He rocked his cart back and forth. “I suppose I’ll meet her tomorrow.”

  He looked over his shoulder as if ready to make his escape. Instead, he surprised her.

  “Do you have time for a coffee?” he asked.

  She
glanced in the direction he’d looked and spotted the superstore’s small snack bar. Curious about why he’d asked, she studied him a moment before making her decision.

  A serious look settled in his eyes, and she sensed he needed to talk. “I have a few minutes. Mom’s with the kids.”

  “Great. It’s better than standing here blocking the aisle.” He flagged her forward and she led the way.

  Bev sat while Dale paid for the coffees and brought them to the table. She took a sip of the frothy drink and licked the flavor from her lips. “Thanks,” she said, her curiosity rising with each moment.

  He didn’t speak but sipped the drink, then pushed the cup in circles with his index finger.

  “Funny how our folks know each other,” she said finally to break the silence.

  “It is.” He didn’t lift his eyes. “Since we got off on such a bad start, I was hoping we could smooth things out a little.”

  “Like you said, no problem.” Just don’t discipline my kids, she said to herself.

  “Now that we’ve talked about our folks, what should I know about you?”

  Nothing, she thought, then her feelings softened. The poor guy was trying to make amends like a Christian should. “I’m a widow with two children. That part you figured out.”

  “I didn’t know you were a widow.”

  She shrugged, realizing he didn’t know her well enough to understand that divorce was not part of her vocabulary. “I work at Loving Care. It’s a child-care facility and handy because I can take Kristin along. She starts school in September.”

  He nodded, then looked thoughtful as if he wanted to know more, but she wasn’t ready to tell him.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  “I live in Grand Rapids and work for a business firm there. Not much to tell. I’ve never married. I’m an only child.”

  “That explains it,” Bev said, before she could slap her mouth closed.

  “Explains what?”