Eleven

Brendan parked his truck in front of Shanna’s house, retrieved the last can of paint he would need, and walked into the backyard.

As always, Boffo ran to greet him. This time, though, as soon as he gave the dog his cursory pat, Boffo ran back to Brendan’s mother, who was bound and determined that she was going to finish painting the fence today, no matter what.

The last part of his multilayered project, the fence, was done. Or it would be done, as soon as his mother finished painting it.

Shanna’s yard had turned out to be one of his best contract projects. The seams in the sod were all grown together, and the yard was spectacular with the colors of a variety of roses, azaleas, and a couple of rhododendrons planted along the back fence. The two rock gardens he’d designed over the boulders he couldn’t move were already awash with a rainbow of colors in the pansies and the flowing white and dark green of the low-growing alyssum.

Nearer to the house was the playscape, very different than his original plans. There was nothing more he could do to make it bigger or better. Any more, and he would probably need a building permit and to ask the city council for rezoning.

He’d even built a bird feeder and hung it in the back corner. Already it had attracted the usual sparrows, as well as a few rose-breasted grosbeaks and various nuthatches. He’d also seen a couple of yellow finches close by, but not at the feeder, because they kept away from people.

Fortunately, he’d thought ahead and built it strong enough to withstand the weight of a pair of Steller’s jays that came by almost every morning for a snack.

Brendan grinned as he remembered the first time Shanna had seen a Steller’s jay so close. Most people, even those who lived here, called them blue jays, but they weren’t. Blue jays had blue heads and crests, and they lived on the East Coast and toward the center of the continent. Steller’s jays had black heads and crests and lived on the West Coast. Since they were a bit on the shy side for such a large bird, few people realized their size.

Under the eaves, on the back deck where he’d built a special lounger, he’d hung a hummingbird feeder. Even Boffo respected the tiny, brightly colored birds and their buzz of activity as they drank the red nectar, which he’d taught the children to make.

He looked into the corner of the yard at the doghouse. Or rather, the dog mansion. It was a perfect replica of the house, including a picture window, a shingled roof, and gutters, and it contained a king-sized dog bed that was raised off the ground. If only he could convince Boffo to use it.

In the back corner opposite the doghouse, he’d constructed a few collapsible hurdles, a line of poles for Boffo to weave through, a small bridge, a suspended hoop, and a cloth tunnel that he made out of heavy netting. The children had already devised a routine for it, although most of the time they ended up running through everything while Boffo sat and watched.

There was nothing more for Brendan to do. His job here was done.

He watched Shanna through the office window, sitting at her desk, concentrating intently on her work.

Ever since Ray’s last visit, if it could be called a visit, she’d hardly spoken to Brendan, and he didn’t know why. He’d done his best to act as a mediator, and as far as he knew, things were going well. Ray had promised to leave Shanna alone, and he’d finally agreed that he had no real claims on the car or anything else that used to belong to Roger. Brendan did notice Ray’s failure to apologize to Shanna as promised, but he would take that one step at a time. The most important thing was that Ray had stopped bullying Shanna, and he said he would try counseling. Brendan prayed about it daily and would continue to do so, even if it took twenty years, although he hoped it wouldn’t take that long for Ray to get his life sorted out.

Brendan walked to his mother and set the pail of paint on the ground beside her. “Here you go. The last one.”

He straightened and was about to leave, but his mother grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. I have a surprise for you. Come with me.”

She laid her paintbrush carefully on the tray and led Brendan into Shanna’s office.

Shanna stop typing and looked up at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Kathy chorused proudly. “But since everything is going to be finished this afternoon, I thought we should all take a little time and have a picnic for lunch.”

Shanna leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “A what?”

“A picnic. I made a nice lunch for all of us this morning and packed it all up, ready to go. Everything is made, even a pitcher of nice cold iced tea.” She made a great show of checking her wristwatch. “And it just happens to be lunchtime right now. Just let me cover up my painting things and we can go.”

Shanna glanced back and forth between Brendan and his mother. Brendan knew better than to try to change his mother’s mind or her plans.

“Go?” Shanna asked. “Go where?”

“We’re going to go to the park at the community center. It’s close but still away from home. Certainly you can spare half an hour.”

“I. . .” Shanna’s voice trailed off.

Brendan shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t going to argue with his mother. The surprise outing would give him a chance to talk to Shanna without distraction or interruption, since his mother was there and could watch the children.

Shanna sighed. “Okay. Maybe a break away from home is a good idea.” She tapped a few more keys, hit Save, logged off, then copied her data to her flash drive and tucked it into her purse. “I’m ready.”

Kathy scurried to her painting supplies, covered everything, closed the paint can, then pulled three backpacks out of the fort in the playscape. She helped the children with the two small ones and held the larger one out to Brendan.

“I guess we’re walking,” he muttered as he slung the adult-sized pack over his shoulders and tucked his arms into the straps.

The children danced and skipped around Kathy, while Brendan kept a slower pace behind with Shanna.

Shanna didn’t say anything, which he didn’t think was good. Rather than dragging out the uncomfortable silence, Brendan struggled to fill all the empty airspace. He told her about his next big project, about some repairs he needed to do on his truck, about the things Boffo would learn when they signed him up for the agility team in the fall—anything that crossed his mind. It was the longest ten minutes of his life.

When they arrived at the park, he understood why the backpack had been so heavy. First, his mother pulled out a variety of containers containing different kinds of sandwiches, cut vegetables with dip, sliced fruit, three juice boxes, a coffee thermos, and a bin of chocolate chip cookies. After Shanna and Kathy arranged everything in the center of the blanket, Kathy allowed the children to empty their backpacks, which contained one sandwich and one juice box each.

“No cookies for you guys,” Brendan teased. “I carried the cookies, so I get first dibs.”

The children squealed, and when he laughed, Shanna elbowed him in the ribs.

The children ate quickly, then ran off to the swings, eating a cookie on their way. Shanna started to rise, but Kathy waved her hands in the air to keep Shanna seated. “Don’t worry. I can push them. You stay here and relax.”

Brendan’s breath caught. He suddenly knew that his mother had planned this outing for this reason. One day soon, he would have to do something extra special for her.

“I heard from Evelyn today,” Shanna said as she started to put the lids back on all his mother’s lunch containers. “She told me that Ray has agreed to go to counseling and that he’s already gone a couple of times. She told me to thank you for what you did.”

“Not a problem. I did what I could.”

She turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going when I gave you my car?”

“My friend told me not to tell anyone what I was doing in case there was a problem. If something went wrong, then the fewer people involved, the better. He said there could be liability issues.”

“So you really did have a friend?”

Brendan quirked one eyebrow. “I have lots of friends.”

Shanna’s cheeks darkened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. My friend is a social worker, and I’m not going to tell you his name. He’s got to be careful about what he says and whom he’s talking to. He especially has to be careful with unofficial advice. All I could do was summarize what happened as a hypothetical situation, and he could only make suggestions and tell me where the law will step in and where it won’t. He warned me that things can sometimes get really ugly in domestic violence cases and that I shouldn’t tell you what I was doing, just in case something really went bad. He was adamant that you definitely shouldn’t be there. I can tell you a little about what happened because, for now, it looks like things are getting better. Ray hasn’t hit Evelyn or made any threats against Evelyn, or against you, since the day he stormed out of your place. I don’t know how a mind works in a situation like that, but something seemed to snap when I told him that he was a coward.”

“A coward? I’ve always thought of him as a bully but never a coward.”

“He’s a coward if the only way he can get what he wants is by striking out at those who are smaller and weaker than himself, especially women, who seldom hit back. Think about it. He only picks a fight in situations where he can’t possibly lose.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Don’t do that,” he mumbled. “I know what you’re thinking. Most people are smaller and weaker than I am, and I know it. But I would never treat anyone that way. My mother raised me to treat people the way God would want me to. That’s to treat others how I’d like them to treat me. With respect and dignity, and as an equal in God’s sight.”

She didn’t respond, so he didn’t say anything, either. Instead of talking, they simply watched the kids on the swings and his mother taking turns pushing them. A man joined them. His mother remained beside Ashley, while the man remained behind Matthew.

“That’s my neighbor, John. Sometimes your mother talks to him over the fence while she’s painting. It’s so sad. His wife died just after Roger and I bought the house. About a year later his son moved out, and he’s been all alone. I guess he keeps busy, but he’s still alone.”

“I know what you mean. My dad died when I was a kid, and I don’t remember my mother dating back then. I know she’s been out for dinner a few times with a few different men, more often lately, but nothing ever seems to work out. I don’t know why. I wish she would get remarried. She deserves to be happy.”

Brendan’s heart pounded, and he forced himself to breathe. He turned to Shanna, picked up one of her hands, and cradled it gently within his.

“You deserve to be happy, too, Shanna. I want to be the one to make you happy again, but something’s happened. I feel like you’ve cut me off, and I don’t know why.”

She gulped and stared off into the distance, at her children. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Please try.”

“It’s not you. I don’t know if I’m ready to think about relationships and stuff like that. I just want to concentrate on getting my business going and not neglect my kids.”

“I’m not asking you to neglect your kids. What I want to do is spend more time with you, maybe something. . . uh”—Brendan swallowed, struggling to come up with the word—“permanent.”

“Permanent?”

“Yes, permanent. Like married permanent. For life. Like until death do us part. Like getting old and gray together.”

Her face paled. “Is this a proposal? Here? In the park?”

Gently, he massaged her hand. “Yes, it is. If you want, I can take you out for an expensive dinner, and I’ll do it properly.”

Her eyes widened and she stared at him.

“You can trust me to treat you the special way a man should treat the woman he loves.” He lowered his voice. “I do love you, Shanna. And I love your kids, too. If you would marry me, I’d want to adopt them as my own.” He gave her a weak grin. “Boffo, too. I just won’t go so far as to say I love him, but I do like him.”

She didn’t smile at his little joke. “I need to think about it. I didn’t expect this. Whenever a man asks a woman to marry him, before that happens, she’s already expecting it. I didn’t.”

“It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

But really, it wasn’t okay. Inside, a little piece of him died. He hadn’t expected her to turn cartwheels, but he had expected a more positive reaction—and certainly something more encouraging.

Shanna leaned forward and started to tuck all the containers back into the backpack. “I think it’s time for me to get back to work, and you, too.”

She handed him the backpack, and they both stood. Together they folded the blanket; then Shanna tucked it into the backpack and fastened it closed.

His mother didn’t need signal flares. As soon as she saw them packing up, she got the children off the swings and brought them back to the picnic area, with Shanna’s neighbor at her side. Shanna introduced the men to each other, and soon the group was on their way.

Brendan didn’t say anything as he walked beside Shanna. He didn’t know what to say. Even though things weren’t going the way he wanted them to, he could understand that it was a big decision for her, even bigger because she had lived on the bad side of marriage. She didn’t know how good it could be. He knew, because he’d seen it in his parents’ marriage—a marriage that had ended much too soon.

He could only take solace in knowing that he’d done what he thought God wanted him to do, and that was to show Shanna how much he loved her. He’d done that by protecting her as best he could, which put him at substantial risk. His friend Sal, the social worker, had warned him that Ray could snap and strike out at him, and it wasn’t uncommon for weapons to be involved.

Ray was a gun owner, which didn’t come as a surprise. Fortunately, Ray’s wife was much smarter than Ray gave her credit for. When Brendan called to warn her that Ray was on the way, she’d hidden Ray’s guns, knowing the potential, and she’d locked his dog, Killer, in the backyard. Ray had picked up the fireplace poker to go after Evelyn but had then turned on Brendan when he burst in on them. God truly had been at work in Ray and Evelyn’s house that day, because everything Sal had warned him about had happened. The good news was that Brendan managed to calm Ray down and get the poker away from him before any harm was done. Then, after a lot of careful talking, Ray actually listened to Brendan. He’d taken everything Brendan said to heart and was now working on controlling his anger.

Too soon, they arrived back at Shanna’s house.

Since he didn’t have anything more to say, Brendan simply climbed into his truck and drove away to his next job site, knowing it was going to be a very long day.

❧

Shanna stared at her computer screen without doing anything for so long that her screen saver came on.

She sat there mesmerized by the little fish swimming back and forth, complete with bubbles and the odd, exploding blowfish.

She managed to snap her brain back into wanting to do some work and was just about to hit a key to deactivate the screen saver when the phone rang.

She looked at the time. It was after 8:00, and the children were already in bed. Whoever was calling, it wasn’t business.

Her hand froze over the receiver before she picked it up.

If it was Brendan, she didn’t know what she would say.

She hadn’t been fair to him. She should have told him that she was afraid, but her reason for being afraid wasn’t fair to him, either. He was a good and valiant man. When Shanna knew Ray had left for work, she’d phoned Evelyn and asked for more details of what happened the day Brendan had stepped into the middle of the situation. What she heard wasn’t pretty.

Brendan had done his research—both on trying to understand what she was going through and on what Ray would be going through—then stepped into the middle, putting himself at risk. And he’d done it for her.

On the sixth ring, she finally picked up the phone.

“Shanna? It’s me, Kathy. I’m sorry for phoning so late, but I wanted to ask you a question about your neighbor John.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked, knowing her voice sounded almost squeaky.

“Are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”

“I’m fine,” Shanna replied, knowing she didn’t sound fine.

“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”

Shanna cringed. Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. “Can I ask you a really personal question?” she whispered.

“Anything you want,” Kathy said, sounding hesitant.

Shanna steeled her nerve. “Did you and your husband ever fight?”

Kathy paused. “It depends on what you mean by ‘fight.’ I hope you don’t mind, but Matthew told me a little bit about your brother-in-law. Matthew is scared of him because you’re scared of him. So I’m going to assume that when you say ‘fight,’ you don’t mean ‘argue.’ Gerry and I argued, but we never hit each other, and we never threw things. I won’t say we never raised our voices, but we always worked it out. Does that help?”

Shanna thought of all she’d been through with Roger and what she’d seen with her parents. Kathy’s experience had been the complete opposite of her own. Which meant it was possible for her to have the same.

“Yes, that does help. Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Did your husband let you win any of those arguments?”

“Let me win? I’m not sure what to say. No one ever won or lost. We worked everything out until we came to some kind of agreement. Neither of us ever ‘let’ the other win, and nothing was a contest where there was a winner and a loser. It was more the other way around. Sometimes I gave in; sometimes he did, but most of the time we met in the middle. It wasn’t over until both of us could live with the decision. But we didn’t argue very often. In a good marriage, both partners usually think along the same lines in the things that are important. Family, children, money, daily life matters. . . The things we argued about were the nonessentials. Furniture colors. Cars. Stupid things, looking back. Often we’d just laugh about it later. And then we’d—uh, never mind. What were you saying?”

Shanna remembered Brendan’s words, and they echoed what his mother had said, in a different way. Marriage was a partnership.

Her parents’ marriage hadn’t been a partnership. It was her father’s way or no way. When she first started dating, her mother had told her that it didn’t matter about winning or losing, probably because she never won. Her mother said what mattered was that a woman had to find a husband who would have her for better or worse. Except that her father hadn’t stuck around for better or worse. He’d left for something better.

She didn’t have any examples of a good marriage in her family or in her own life. The only thing Shanna knew about what a marriage was supposed to be like was what she’d read or heard from the people she knew at church. Brendan had lived with good examples, and he still believed the same things and held the same values. He probably always would.

He would never strike out in anger. It wasn’t in him to do so, both by his nature and by the examples and teaching he’d grown up with. The way he’d dealt with Ray was proof of that. He would never bully or badger her or the children, and he would always be fair. And as he said, he would always love her; and to him, love meant a partnership. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

“I’m sorry. What did you want to know about John?”

“What’s he like? He asked me out to dinner, and I didn’t know what to say.”

“I don’t see him that much, but I usually see him at least on Sundays, because we go to the same church. Sometimes we go together, but not always, because of the kids. The kids like him, too. I don’t know him really well, but he seems very nice.”

Shanna leaned forward and peeked through the blinds. Speaking of John, she couldn’t see him, exactly, but the light was on in the family room, and she detected flickers indicating the television was on, and she could see occasional movements. Even though she didn’t know what he was doing, she knew he was awake and alone.

“Thanks,” Kathy said. “That’s exactly what I wanted to know. I’ll catch you next Tuesday, for Ladies’ Night at my church. Are you still interested?”

“Yes. Very much. Thanks for calling, and I really mean that.”

The second she hung up, she dialed John’s phone number.

“Hi, John. It’s Shanna, next door. This is nothing urgent, but I was wondering if you could come over and keep an eye on the kids for a while. They’re in bed, but I have to go out and get something. I’d owe you, big-time.”

John laughed through the phone. “You know I’m not doing anything important. I’ll be right there.”

She scribbled down the address from her files, grabbed her purse, and ran to the door.

By the time John’s foot touched the first step, Shanna was already on the porch. “I’ll be back in an hour, tops, not a minute longer. I promise,” she chorused as she closed the car door.

In record time, she had arrived at Brendan’s town house.

The door opened. In some ways, he looked exactly the same as he always did, but also entirely different.

Since he’d gotten his hair cut, he’d continued to shave every day, but she could understand what he’d said about his reasons for his former style, or lack thereof. After his new haircut, he’d gelled it up, and he had been keeping that up daily, as well as continuing to shave diligently. But now, later in the evening, he had obviously showered and washed all the gel out and not bothered to use more since he was home alone. His hair was now half flopped over on his head and half sticking out all over because it wasn’t combed. And he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said his five o’clock shadow started at two o’clock. It was now nearly eight thirty, and his chin was as scruffy as the “didn’t shave for a day and a half” look of some of the tough-guy movie stars. Only she knew Brendan didn’t work to achieve the look; it was just the way he was.

He was wearing a freshly laundered T-shirt. But if it hadn’t been for the fresh-from-the-dryer scent of his fabric softener she wouldn’t have been able to tell it was clean, because it was stained with paint of a dozen different colors. Likewise, his jeans. They were so old they were nearly white. From age and perhaps hundreds of wearings, they were worn thin in places, especially on the knees—one of which was ripped all the way through. If she wasn’t mistaken, she saw a few different colors of paint on his jeans, too.

She was curious to see if his socks would be in the same condition as the rest of his clothes, but his feet were bare.

Even though Shanna was wearing her shoes and he had nothing to add to his height, he still towered over her.

She looked up. Way up. Just as she had the first time they met.

His cheeks darkened. “This is a surprise.”

She held up a fast-food bag. “I brought food.”

One eyebrow quirked. “Food? But”—he checked his watch—“it’s a little late for supper, isn’t it?” He peeked over her shoulder with no effort. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re in good hands. May I come in?”

His cheeks darkened even more, all the way to his ears. “I’m sorry for being rude. I wasn’t expecting you. Come in.”

He stepped aside and then closed the door behind her.

She had never been to his home before, but it was exactly as she had pictured it would be. There was no sense of coordination or décor, yet for the all the mismatches, everything fit together to make a warm and cozy home. Fluffy cushions were strewn haphazardly on the biggest couch she’d ever seen. The coffee table was piled with newspapers, magazines, and a few fiction books, one spread open for lack of a bookmark, as was his Bible, the same one she’d seen him with in church.

Taking a guess, she headed in the direction of where she thought the kitchen would be.

She bit her bottom lip as she passed his bedroom, complete with an unmade bed and the clothes she’d seen him wearing earlier that day, lying in a pile on the floor.

He’d had a home-cooked meal; she could tell, because he hadn’t yet done the dishes. The dishwasher was wide open, still half filled with clean dishes waiting to be put away.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” Brendan muttered behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I only had twenty dollars on me, so this was the best I could do on short notice. But if you want, I can take you out tomorrow for an expensive dinner and do this properly.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “Please tell me you mean what I think you mean.”

She walked to him and rested her hands on the sides of his waist. “That’s exactly what I mean. I love you, and I’d be the happiest woman in the world if you’d marry me and my little family. If the offer is still open.”

His answer came in the form of a kiss, immediate, passionate, and all-consuming.

And she kissed him back in exactly the same way.

The hamburgers and fries never did get eaten. By the time they separated, she didn’t have time to sit down. She had to rush back home so John could go home and get to bed. After all, he had to go to work in the morning.

“Wait.” Brendan raised his hand and rested it on the door, keeping it closed. “Not that I think you’d change your mind, but when is this going to happen?”

Shanna shrugged her shoulders. “I hadn’t thought that far in advance.”

Brendan cupped her face with his hands and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “I don’t believe in long engagements. How about setting a date for Harry’s first open weekend?”

Her heart nearly burst with joy. “I could do that. I guess this means you want to get married at my church, not your own?”

His hands slid down to her shoulders. “I don’t know; I think it would be a tough decision. But I have an idea for meeting in the middle. Instead of having to decide between the two, let’s get married in the place we met.”

“The place we met?” She pictured clearly the first time she met him. Pastor Harry had brought Brendan to her home so he could give her an estimate. “We met for the first time in my backyard.”

“Yeah. Your backyard. There’s plenty of room, and you’ve got to admit, your landscaper did a mighty fine job. It would be perfect for a summer wedding.”

Shanna giggled. “I think I’ll have to give that man a big, big bonus.”

“I’m sure he can hardly wait,” he said, then kissed her again.

Her yard would indeed be perfect.