Loving Promises Read online

  Dale turned to face her. “I suppose you don’t know what that’s like.”

  “Not with two kids,” she said, but she did know loneliness. Children didn’t take the place of having another person with whom to share her joys and sorrows or a man to hold her in his arms at night.

  “Would you like a soda? Coffee? And I meant my offer about dinner. If you don’t trust my cooking, we can go out.”

  She shook her head and pulled her gaze from the skyline. “Thanks. I really can’t stay long.”

  He gave her a curious look, and she could hear his mind asking the question—why was she there?

  Bev wandered across the room to the saddle-colored sofa. Its lingering aroma aroused her senses as she settled onto the leather cushions. She ran her hand over the smooth surface, willing her nerves to subside. She felt giddy with amazement that she’d proposed the visit.

  Dale sat in a chair nearby. His fingers played along the upholstered arm, admitting by his action he felt as uneasy as she did.

  As the silence lingered, Dale bounded from the chair. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

  He vanished through a doorway, and Bev rose, deciding to follow. She entered the kitchen as he was spooning grounds into the coffeemaker.

  “I don’t mean to surprise you, Dale. Besides being curious about your apartment—which is very nice, by the way—I wanted to talk about a couple of things.”

  He took a slow turn toward her, the coffee scoop suspended. “I figured, but I’m not sure what this is about.”

  Neither did she, really. She sank onto a kitchen chair at a small table for two. No room for kids here, she thought, as her attention drifted to the practical, tidy layout of the room. At least he was neat. She’d learned that.

  “We’ve been thrust together,” Bev said, her gaze drifting to his puzzled face, “and I figure we might as well make the most of it by being friends, and I figured I should get to know you better.”

  “No problem from me.”

  “We’ve had our differences, but I hoped we’ve resolved some of them.”

  Dale hit the button on the coffeemaker, then drew up a chair, swiveled it around and sat facing her. “Okay. Let’s be friends. It makes sense.” Though he said the words, she wondered if he were questioning the wisdom.

  “Give me a question,” he said. “What do you want to know?” He reached across the distance and rested a hand on her arm. “And this is not one-sided. I can ask questions, too.”

  “Fair,” she said, wishing she could refuse, but knowing she couldn’t. Still, no one said she had to reveal the whole truth. Half the story wouldn’t exactly be lying.

  Dale eased forward and rested his arms against the chair back.

  She collected her thoughts and decided to begin with her main concern. “What bothers me the most is your attitude toward God.”

  Bev noticed him cringe with her comment, but she barreled along. “Your parents are obviously Christians. You were raised in the faith. So what happened?”

  “That’s difficult to answer.”

  She sensed he was being evasive and waited, her eyes searching his.

  “It’s obvious, I suppose. My mother and father have been the best. They’ve given me more than I can repay. I consider their relationship perfect. I believe that for each person there’s one soul mate, one special person and no other.”

  “You mean once you fall in love that’s it?”

  “Yes,” he said. “If God directs us, then we’re led to that one person He meant for us.”

  Her heart skipped at the thought. She and Jesse? That couldn’t have been God’s guidance. “I disagree, Dale. Do you remember that God gives us free will. I told you a few days ago that I ask for God’s direction, but I don’t always listen. That’s wrong, but it’s part of our human sinfulness. We make bad choices sometimes. I don’t blame the Lord for that.”

  “Well, I do. He’s almighty. Omniscient.”

  “But he’s not a tyrant. He gives us freedom to choose.”

  “That was God’s mistake.”

  Bev recoiled. His comment felt like a slap.

  “I’m sorry, Bev. I’ve shocked you. I don’t know if God really listens to everyone. He’s dealing with war and famine, dying and birth. Why listen to me? So why should I listen to Him?”

  Bev’s heart broke, hearing his honesty.

  “When my mother was diagnosed with MS, I spent so much time in prayer. I begged and pleaded, but my mom has gone downhill. I’ve seen no mercy. How can I love a God who does that to one of the sweetest women in the world?”

  “God has promised us love, forgiveness and salvation. He is plenteous in mercy, Scripture tells us, but we don’t see the big picture, Dale. We don’t know why things happen. I blame the world’s sin and evil on Satan, not God. The devil undermines the Lord’s work in every way, and not because the Lord isn’t powerful, but because He’s created us in His likeness. He’s given us that free will that I mentioned before. We make bad choices.”

  Dale’s eyes narrowed as if he were searching Bev’s soul, and she held her breath.

  “I don’t know, Bev. I just know what I feel.”

  “It’s okay to feel anger and frustration. I do that with my kids all the time, but I don’t stop loving them. We’re God’s children, and he never stops loving us.” She made a quick glance around the room, figuring the look was futile. “I don’t suppose you have a Bible handy.”

  His head snapped upward. “I do.”

  Her heart skipped and filled with hope. “Could I see it?”

  He rose without comment and headed into the hallway. Bev sat suspended, praying she could find the verse she wanted to share.

  In moments, he returned carrying a well-worn black leather Bible. “This was my grandfather’s,” he said.

  Disappointment shuffled through her. She’d hoped perhaps he’d been the one to dog-ear the pages. She extended her hand. “It’s in Hebrews, if I remember correctly.”

  “That’s in the New Testament,” he said.

  He knew it was the New Testament, and she smiled. If he knew that much, maybe he knew even more. She prayed his faith hadn’t drifted too far off course. Being angry at God and being an unbeliever weren’t the same.

  As her thoughts piled one on the other, she flipped through the pages, scanning the verses. “Here it is in the tenth chapter. ‘Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.’” She lifted her gaze to Dale’s before continuing. “‘And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.’”

  She lowered the Bible. “God’s promises are sure. Instead of fighting the life he gave us, the Lord’s asking us to make the most of it, to help each other and to show love not anger. He has promised that He’ll be with us. His promise is a sure thing.”

  He reached toward her, his hand open, and she slipped the Bible into it. He stared at the page in silence, perhaps rereading the Scripture she’d read aloud. She knew the Bible held so many other messages, but with her own lack of Bible study, she didn’t know where they were. She thought of Job and Jonah, men whose lives fell apart but their faith kept them strong. They never stopped praying or gave up hope.

  “Thanks,” Dale said finally. He placed the Bible on the lamp table beside him. “Maybe I’d better start reading this.”

  Bev’s spirit calmed as if a fresh breeze had drifted over her. “I’m glad. God is forgiving and His love endures forever. It’s just difficult for us to believe that a love can be that strong.”

  “My dad and mom have a love like that,” Dale said. “I admire them. I’d never find a relationship like theirs. Never.”

  Bev drew back while a comment bounced in her head. It wasn’t the time to say it, but if he treated children as he did and snapped people’s heads off at a touchy topic, he was correct. Who needed that?

  Then another idea crossed her mind. If Dale felt that way, could that be why he’d never married? She had so many more questio
ns to ask, but not today. She didn’t want to thwart what the Holy Spirit had accomplished in their short time together. Even one step forward lifted Bev’s heart.

  “The coffee,” Dale said, rising. “I forgot about it.”

  The scent drifted to meet Bev, too. “I really should go.” She rose and took a step toward the doorway.

  Dale moved to her side and captured her arms. “Why hurry?” His eyes searched hers, leaving her addled.

  “It’s almost dark. My mom will wonder where I am.”

  “I have a telephone,” he said.

  He stood so close she could smell the subtle fragrance of his aftershave. Her hands became clammy, and she felt out of her element. Standing together in his apartment seemed too intimate, too personal.

  She drew back to explain, but instead he drew her into his arms and pressed his cheek against her hair. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I’m glad you came.”

  “You’re welcome.” She forced herself out of his embrace, wanting to stay there, but sensing his attention was like a whirlpool. If she didn’t fight the pull, she’d be lost.

  She stepped away, but he captured her hand. “I haven’t asked you my questions yet. Remember?”

  Bev lifted her arm to check her watch and saw her hands tremble. “Next time.”

  A tender smile drifted across his face. “Next weekend. Dad said you’re coming over for Memorial Day.”

  He hadn’t released her left hand, and she felt him squeeze her fingers. Her small hand seemed lost in his larger one.

  “I’ll see you then with my questions ready,” he said.

  “Great.” She’d hoped to sound casual, but she was far from it. Bev slid her hand from his grasp, but the pressure of his touch remained, just as Dale always stayed in her thoughts long after he’d vanished from her sight.

  Chapter Six

  “Dale, why don’t you play ball with Michael?” Dotty asked.

  Dale’s back stiffened as he heard his mother’s voice, and he focused on the back of his parents’ yard. Michael ambled across the grass, looking bored. The boy tossed a ball into the air, catching it some of the time. Better than throwing it at his sister, Dale figured.

  “You don’t have to,” Bev said, as if she could read his mind.

  Bev’s eyes reflected the hurt she felt when he ignored her children. He didn’t know why he felt as he did. He’d never had much experience and felt inept, a feeling he didn’t like.

  He pulled himself from his thoughts and got up from his chair. He wanted to remind her he was in charge of the grill, but he realized the boy needed attention. If Michael didn’t get positive attention, he went for the negative, and it always worked. He got what he wanted. The boy had a penchant for getting into trouble. He’d already been reprimanded for tossing a ball and nearly hitting his grandmother. Good old Millie had just tossed it back without a comment, but Bev hadn’t let it stop there.

  Dale had watched Kristin, too, but she seemed better-behaved. She’d spent most of the time drawing pictures for everyone.

  Dale crossed the yard to Michael. “Want to play catch?”

  Michael shrugged, but Dale hadn’t missed the look of interest in the boy’s face.

  “Do you have a glove?”

  Michael shook his head.

  Dale put up a finger and sprinted for the garage. He remembered seeing a couple of his old baseball mitts hanging on a peg. He’d thought they’d be hard as steel, but to his surprise, they weren’t half bad. He carried them into the yard and tossed one to Michael.

  The boy caught it and slid it on his hand. Dale chuckled. The mitt was too big, but Michael eyed it and smacked his fist into the palm as he’d probably seen the ballplayers do on TV.

  “Ready?” Dale asked.

  Michael played the part. He whacked his glove again and waited for Dale to pitch.

  He threw a slow straight ball to give the kid half a chance. Michael fumbled, but Dale knew it was because of the oversize glove.

  Dale caught the boy’s ragged pitch, then threw another. As the ball sailed back and forth, sometimes bouncing to the ground, Dale sent his mind back in time, trying to recall how he’d felt at age eight. Free, important and know-it-all. His parents’ only child was spoiled to the core. Dale wondered if that was his problem today. No one paid him quite as much attention as his parents had. Recently, Bev was running a close second. Dale wondered if it weren’t his mind playing tricks on him. In truth, he was the one preoccupied.

  “Nice job,” Al said, crossing the lawn and giving the boy a thumbs-up. In the past minutes, Michael had shown improvement at catching the ball.

  The boy’s eyes lit up with the compliment, and Dale saw his pride. Kind words worked wonders.

  “Did you see him shag that one?” Dale asked.

  His father nodded.

  “Show him how to throw a knuckle ball, Dad. I was never good at that.” Dale walked toward his dad with the ball extended.

  Al took it and ambled to the boy. “Look here,” he said, demonstrating how to position his fingers. “When you can throw a good knuckle ball, you confuse the batter. The ball flutters all over the place.”

  “You mean like this?” Michael grasped the ball and demonstrated by waving it through the air as he darted toward Dale.

  Dale held out his arms to halt him, but the boy charged into his embrace. The action shocked Dale. He hadn’t planned to hug the boy, but he certainly couldn’t reject him now. The child stood back, looking as startled as Dale felt.

  Dale sent the boy a pleasant look, hoping to waylay the child’s embarrassment. “Can you throw him a few, Dad? I think the fire’s ready for the steaks.”

  Al nodded, probably enjoying a chance to spend time with a child—not a grandchild, but a reasonable facsimile in his mind.

  Bev sat back, reveling in the lovely day. She’d relived her short visit with Dale the past Thursday and felt good about their talk. She really liked him, and trying to cover her feelings made her feel stressed. Now, at least, they’d come away from that afternoon with an agreement—friendship. Even more than that, she’d been ecstatic when he’d mentioned needing to read the Bible. If she had accomplished nothing else, Dale’s admission filled her with joy.

  Though his attention that day had made her uneasy, she’d decided it had been a natural response to their growing amicable relationship. Friendship was best for them both. He obviously wasn’t looking for marriage and neither was she.

  But companionship was another thing. Having someone to go to a movie with, to enjoy a play or walk in the park with seemed like a possibility now. She’d had a nice time with him at Ian’s. Every time they’d been together without the kids had been pleasant.

  She watched him now as he headed for the grill. He’d been so kind to entertain Michael, even if it was at his mother’s prodding.

  Dotty and her mother were deep in conversation. Bev could see the weakness in Dotty’s face. Yet the woman was strong in faith. Her mother could make Dotty smile, which to Bev was a true gift of the spirit.

  Bev rose and headed across the grass. A warm breeze fluttered through her hair, and she pushed her hair back before tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Dale’s brown hair had lightened in the past couple of weeks as the sun had bleached it with highlights, and he looked relaxed and as sunny as the day.

  When she approached, his eyes crinkled into a smile, and she pressed her hand against her chest for a moment, addled by the sensation she felt.

  “Can I help?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Sure. Talk to me.”

  “Why?” Immediately she feared he wanted to ask those questions she’d promised to answer.

  “Talk or sing. Anything to entertain me while I make you the best steak you’ve had in ages.”

  “That’s easy. I can’t afford steak so even shoe leather would taste good to me.”

  “I like your sense of humor. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “No.” She paused a moment, wondering if she sho
uld be so honest. “Want me to tell you what I like about you?”

  He drew back and cocked his head. “Sure.”

  “It’s your eyes.”

  He looked at her and crossed them.

  She’d never seen him so silly. She gave him a playful punch. “You have beautiful eyes. They’re blue and deep like a whirlpool that draws me in. I feel as if I’m drowning.”

  “And you like that?”

  He made her laugh. “It’s the look, not the drowning.” She turned away, then back with a new thought. “And you love your family. That’s something I respect and admire.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “And that’s all you get.”

  “Whew! That’s enough.” He turned a steak, then looked up. “I’ll give you your list later.”

  Her list? Her pulse skipped. She wondered what he might say, but her heart sank as she recalled his other list—the personal questions he’d promised to ask her.

  Dale motioned toward the house. “These are nearly done. You can bring out the rest of the food.”

  Bev walked away, feeling uplifted yet scared. She liked this whole friendship idea. She only hoped her heart cooperated with the agreement.

  Bev leaned back against the chair, the sun blocked by the large umbrella. The sense of family washed over her. She loved it and feared it. One day when her mother wasn’t needed and the freshness of her and Al’s rediscovered friendship had faded, the relationship would fade, too. Lately, thinking of the Levins seemed to give Bev a sense of purpose, and Dale had offered her a little excitement in her usual life.

  “Three cheers for the cook,” Mildred said, holding up her lemonade glass toward Dale. “The steaks were delicious.”

  “And thanks for all the food you brought,” Al said. “I haven’t enjoyed a day like this in a long time.” He sank into a chair beside Mildred and folded his hands.

  The saddest part of the day was Dotty’s absence. She’d gone back to bed shortly after dinner, and Bev missed her gracious charm and undying spirit.

  Bev eyed the table filled with dishes and silverware. She rose and grasped two serving bowls. “The kids are enjoying that game you found so I’ll let you keep an eye on them while I clean up.”