Telling Mrs. Poe proved easier than Micah had supposed. Patches ran out into the street too often, according to her owner. She'd always known it would happen one day. A call to Dr. Tackett confirmed the worst Patches was gone.
Micah went back to her apartment angry at Mrs. Poe for her callousness, angry at the letter from her mother, angry at how much she now wanted a man she couldn't have. After putting on jeans and a T-shirt and pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she headed for the small flower bed just outside her back door. Working up the soil for the impatiens she would plant soon seemed like a good idea. She heard the ringing of the phone while reaching for a shovel and the click of the answering machine as it recorded Rob's message. But it was a nearby voice that caused her to look up from her gardening.
“Hey, Micah! How ya doin?” Carole called as she walked up the brick path toward her.
“Hi,” she answered, brushing some stray hair from the side of her face. “What's up?”
“I've brought back your shoes. I hope you don't mind my borrowing them without asking.”
“I don't mind.” Micah went back to the digging, turning the dirt over a shovelful at a time.
“Aren't you going to ask me how my date was?” Carole inquired. She placed the shoes on the back step.
No, Micah hadn't planned to ask. Someone else's happy love life might be more than she could bear this morning. But Carole would be hurt. “Nice guy?” was all she could manage.
“Nice and handsome and—” Carole stopped. “Did you go out with Rob last night?”
“Yes. To dinner and a movie.”
“And then?” Carole persisted while watching Micah work.
“And we came home and found Patches lying in the gutter. Hit by a car, I guess.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. Is she okay?”
“No.” Micah leaned the shovel against the wall. “She's dead.”
“I really am sorry,” Carole responded. “I kind of liked that little feline.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Micah answered quietly.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Carole asked.
“No,” Micah said sadly. “I'm afraid not”
“Well, okay, I'll leave you alone. When you're feeling better, call me and I'll buy us a pizza.”
Micah smiled. “Okay.”
“By the way, who do you know in France? Do you have a secret admirer hidden away somewhere that you've forgotten to mention to me?”
“No,” she replied and wiped her hands on her old jeans. “That letter was from my mother.”
“Your mother? The one you never hear from? The one you won't talk about?”
“The only one I have,” Micah answered.
“You've never told me she lives in France.”
“She has for a long time.”
“So, what did she say? I mean, you don't have to tell me, but what did she want? After all this time?”
“Nothing, really.”
“I know. You don't want to talk about it. So, what else is new?”
“She wants the same things she always wants: to know I'm okay, that I'm not making mistakes with my life. Helpful hints from Mom,” she stated, her voice sharpened in sarcasm. She sighed. “I'm not up to this today, Carole. Could we talk later?”
“Micah, maybe I tease you and question you too much, but you're one of the best friends I've ever had,” Carole said, shielding her eyes from the sunlight with an uplifted hand. “It doesn't have to be me, but you need to talk to someone about this. There's a lot of unfinished business between you and your parents that you need to deal with.”
“I know,” Micah replied. “But today…I just can't.”
Carole reached out, squeezing Micah's arm affectionately. “Call me.”
Micah assured her friend she would, then watched her walk past the shrubbery then down the same path that had brought her there. Then it was back to the dirt, the weeds and the empty flower bed waiting to be filled with colorful offerings.
“Lord, I'm sorry,” she said softly. “Sorry I'm so angry with my mother, and sorry I disappointed her. And sorry I'll disappoint Rob,” she added as she carefully set some impatiens into the ground, covering their roots with topsoil. “And I'm sorry I miss Dad so much. If I could just talk to him….” But she wouldn't, she knew. It was not what he wanted.
It was past lunchtime and Micah's stomach growled, reminding her that last night's beef Stroganoff was long gone. Breakfast hadn't sounded appealing at all. Even a simple glass of milk brought thoughts of Patches.
The phone rang again. Micah kicked off her dirty tennis shoes and hurried into the apartment barefoot. It would be Rob. And he would call until she answered.
“Hello.”
“Hi,” Rob said quietly and then paused. “Have you spoken to Mrs. Poe yet?”
“Yes, and she called Dr. Tackett. Patches is gone.”
“Sorry,” he responded gently. “Did she take it hard?”
“Not as hard as I did.” Micah's soft laugh followed her reply.
“But that probably made it worse for you.”
“I'll get over it. I shouldn't be so sensitive, I guess.”
Rob's response was quick and comforting. “I like you just the way you are. Don't find fault in yourself over this.”
“No, I suppose I shouldn't. It's just…I got a letter from my mother in yesterday's mail. She has a way of doing that to me.”
He didn't respond right away, then, “The letter, was it bad news?”
“No, nothing new, really. Same old stuff…family stuff. Rob, do you think we ever get out from under it?”
“All families are different, so I can't comment about yours. But, with mine, some things never improve. You know? It's kind of like my mother's fruitcake at Christmas. It's really bad, but we eat it anyway to keep her happy. ‘Blessed are the peacemakers,’ as they say.”
“Hmm, I distinctly remember reading that in the New Testament. I thought you didn't have any interest in that way of thinking anymore.”
“That's true, I don't. But, unfortunately, I have a great memory, and some things I've learned won't be forgotten. No matter how hard I try.”
“I guess it's that way with some things.” She hesitated. “But with my family, well, our problems don't stern from home-baked desserts.” She gave a sad, soft laugh. “I wish they did.”
“So do I,” was Rob's immediate reply. “Micah, I get the feeling that your situation is serious enough that we shouldn't be joking about it at all.”
“But laughing feels much better than crying,” she told him. “And I certainly don't feel like crying, so let's talk about something else. Your parents’ dinner tomorrow. Am I going to have to eat fruitcake?”
“No, not until December,” Rob assured her with a laugh. “My folks are looking forward to meeting you.”
“I'm so nervous about this—”
“Don't be. They're friendly, common people, Micah. You'll like them. And as I told you, Liz and the kids will be there, too, so that will help you feel more at ease.”
“What time will you pick me up?” she asked.
“Dinner is at one o'clock. What time do you usually get home from church?”
“Around noon. You could come to church with me, you know.”
“Thanks. I'll pass on that offer, but I'll meet you at your place at noon. I've got to get caught up on some work at the office today. How about this evening? Are you free?”
“No, and I know this sounds ridiculous on a Saturday night, but I'm going to a student's home to do some tutoring. He's missed a lot of school this year, and I'm trying to help him catch up before the year ends.” She exhaled audibly in frustration. “Sorry. I'd much rather be with you,” she admitted.
“Me, too,” Rob responded. “Well, tell this kid I'm jealous of him, even if he's only in elementary school. He's taking you away from me on a Saturday evening.”
“Thank you for being jealous,” she said with a smile. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then,” he answered and hung up.
Their conversation ended without Micah saying any of the things she needed to say. Agreeing to meet Rob's family was so unlike her that she could hardly believe she had said she would. Maybe it wasn't only her heart she was losing to this man. Maybe her common sense was going, too. She punched in the numbers to Carole's apartment
“I'm sorry I am unable to answer the phone now. At the sound of the beep, you know what to do,” was played back in Carole's recorded voice. Micah almost hung up, then decided to leave a short message.
“Carole, call me when you get home. I—”
Then a shrill beep cut off Micah's words and the answering machine.
“I'm here, Micah. Hang on a second.” Then another beeping tone. “Okay, it's off. Sorry about that, but I just walked in the door. Hey, you wanna go get that pizza?”
“How did you know?” Micah asked.
“Lucky guess. Meet me at Baacardi's in, say, fifteen minutes?”
“I'll be there” came the answer, and in less than half an hour, the two women were seated in a booth at a crowded pizza shop enjoying their lunch while a younger generation played video games all around them.
“So, you talked to Rob and now you feel better?” Carole inquired. “You sure didn't feel like doing this an hour ago.”
“No, I talked to Rob and now I feel worse. That's where you come into the picture,” Micah explained, taking a sip of her root beer. “I'm meeting his family tomorrow. We're going to his parents’ home for dinner.”
“Wow. That sound's promising. There could be a diamond ring in this somewhere.”
“I don't want a diamond ring.”
“So tell him you prefer sapphires. He'll understand.”
“No, I mean, I can't marry him, so I can't become engaged to him…so I shouldn't be dating him. So, why am I meeting his family?”
Carole studied the frustration apparent in Micah's confused expression without responding.
“Carole, explain this to me. Am I losing my mind?”
“Maybe,” Carole replied. “Or maybe you're in love, really in love for the first time in your life. And maybe you want to see how it feels to be part of a big, happy family, his family, even if it's for only one day.”
Micah nodded her head in acknowledgment. “And I'm setting us up for heartache.”
“You and Rob both. But you must go tomorrow. As long as you're still seeing him, there's still that chance that you'll find a way to make it work.”
“I've tried to work this out in my mind a million times, but I can't see a way around it.”
“Have you discussed it with Rob? I mean, everything about your family, your fears…everything?”
“No, not completely, but—”
“This doesn't have anything to do with a promise you made to God, or anything like that, does it? I recall hearing you say, in the past, that you thought you might be a minister's wife someday. You didn't make some secret commitment—”
“No, no, of course not,” Micah answered. “It has nothing to do with that. I haven't even thought of a future with anyone else since Rob came into my life.”
“Well, you must go tomorrow. You've told him you would. And, if you go and enjoy it, you'll be that much more determined to make it work, no matter what your mom writes in those letters from France. I swear, Micah, how could your parents be so far away and, yet, so controlling? Don't let them tell you what you can and cannot do. They don't know Rob. For goodness’ sake, they don't even know you anymore, if, in fact, they ever really did at all.”
“Okay, so, I'll go. I told him I would.”
“That's right. You have to do this. And then you have to let me know what happens. That's my charge for this brief consultation of ours today. Details.”
“Right,” Micah responded with a smile. “I should've known this advice wasn't free.”
“Hey, what—”
Micah raised a hand to Carole's mouth. “I know, I know! ‘What are friends for?”’ she finished Carole's statement. “Let's eat this pizza before it's too cold to enjoy.”
“Great idea,” Carole remarked, and they finished their meal together before going their separate ways.
When Micah returned to her apartment, there was only one thing left to do, and she wondered why the best thing she could do, ironically, so often became the last resort. She pulled her white Bible from the bookcase and knelt beside her bed without even opening the leather-bound treasure in her hands. Micah owned several different Bibles and kept all of them in the top of her bookcase, even this old favorite. It had belonged to a grandmother, but Micah's father had her name engraved on the cover and passed it on to her since he had little interest in religious matters and, therefore, had no real use of it. And it hadn't meant all that much to Micah until it became nearly all that remained. The Bible, her locket and a suitcase full of clothes.
“Lord, I've come through so much, and you've always been there—everywhere—with me. Even when I wasn't aware of your presence. And you've guided me—if not directly, then indirectly, through the hands of others. Help me now. Give me the wisdom to know what to do and the strength to do it. And Rob…you know, I love him, Lord. These feelings…I can't believe they're not from you. And the things that will tear us apart aren't our fault. It just feels unfair, so unfair.” Letting her Bible slip from her hands, Micah buried her face in the bedspread and wept…for all that would never be. When she quieted in the stillness of her bedroom, she reached for a tissue on the night stand. “Now I sound like Rob, don't I? Telling you what's fair and what's not. Just like Nick and Rachel's deaths, Lord. We'll never understand things like that, but Rob needs to have faith in you anyway. Maybe that's the only reason you allowed us to meet…so I could somehow help him come back to you. Show him the way, Lord. Let him know you can be trusted, that you're still working in his life even in the midst of things we don't understand. And either show me some way that will allow us to be together, or show me when, and how, to let him go….”
“To let him go.” That phrase ran over and over in Micah's mind. How would she ever let him go?
When Sunday noon finally arrived, Micah was growing increasingly anxious about the visit. Rob picked her up right after church as he had said he would, and he told her how lovely she looked in the orange-red print dress she wore. And Micah did not tell him it was her final choice after having tried on a dozen others.
“Oh, Rob, why did I agree to this? I'm so nervous—”
But it was too late to back out then, as Rob pulled into the driveway of the home where he had grown up. It was an average-looking split-level home, large enough for three, maybe four, bedrooms, with an attached two-car garage. The Granston house was nice, but nothing like the huge house of Micah's childhood. Nothing like it in more ways than appearance, too, Micah suspected. Unpleasant thoughts creased her forehead with a frown.
Rob leaned over and kissed her on the temple. “You will have a good time. Trust me.”
And she did trust him. More than anyone else she'd known in all her life. They exited the car and she took his hand as they headed up the walkway.
Rob's parents opened the front door before Rob and Micah had reached the top step. It reminded Micah, for an instant, of the prodigal son's father, waiting and watching for his boy to return.
“We're so glad you could come, dear,” stated Rob's mom as she went to Micah, not Rob, for the first hug. Micah smiled nervously and thanked her for the invitation.
“As you've already figured out, this is Micah.” Rob made the needless introductions. “And, Micah, these are my parents, Ed and Grace Granston.”
“Well, we know who we all are,” Grace Granston said with a laugh before hugging her son. Tall and slim, Grace had a warm friendly face framed by short brown hair touched with silver. “Now, let's go inside to get acquainted.”
Micah inwardly cringed. The hardest part was coming up, and she glanced at Rob for some sign of encouragement
“It'll be okay.” He mouthed the words to her without saying them while he held her hand warmly in his. They followed the older couple into the house.
“This way, dear,” Grace said. “I was hoping Micah would help me with the salad. It will give us a chance to talk before everyone else arrives. Rob, go visit with your dad for a while. We have work to do in the kitchen.”
Rob turned to Micah, giving her a questioning look, and she knew he would stay with her if she preferred not to be alone with his mother so soon. But she nodded her head, letting him know it was okay. This could go better than she'd expected, she hoped.
Rob helped Micah out of her lightweight jacket and added it to his own, placing them both over his arm. “I'm going to put these upstairs in the guest room. Do you want to go with me?” he asked quietly, offering her a brief escape.
“I think I'll stay here,” she said, suddenly feeling a little braver than she had since she'd agreed to this meeting. And her answer obviously pleased Rob, if the warmth in his eyes was any indication. He lightly kissed the soft hair at her temple before leaving the two alone.
“What can I do to help, Mrs. Granston?” Micah asked as she followed the older woman into the kitchen.
“Please, call me Grace. ‘Mrs. Granston’ sounds so formal.” She motioned toward a counter. “Want to slice some tomatoes and cucumbers for me?”
“Sure,” Micah responded. “Do you have a cutting board?”
“It's right here, dear, and the knives are in that drawer to the left,” the older woman said with a smile. “Rob tells us you're a wonderful artist.”
“Your son is a very kind man, Grace,” she said as she washed her hands at the sink.
“Yes, he is. But he is also very honest and, sometimes, blunt. So, if he says you're talented, it isn't just because you're beautiful—which, by the way, he also mentioned.” Grace's hand moved to the stern of the pewter frames of her glasses to adjust them. “And I wouldn't even need these bifocals to see that.”
“Thank you,” Micah replied quietly, feeling awkward as she focused on the job at hand. Rinsing and cutting vegetables.
“We have more in common than Rob, you know,” Grace told her. “I used to teach school when all three of my kids were young.”
“I didn't know that.”
“Rob probably didn't think to mention it since it was such a long time ago. I only taught for a couple of years before I decided to stay home with the kids. Ed started making more money by then in his realestate business, and we didn't really need my income. I helped Ed with the business some from then on, but that was back when women weren't so focused on developing their own careers. It seemed like staying home to raise kids was more respectable then. And being at home seemed logical to me since my kids were so close in age, two years between Rob and Angela, and one year between Angela and Eric. Baby-sitters were never easy to find, so I had my hands full with those three.”
Micah tried to imagine Rob and Angela as children together. She hadn't met Eric, the younger brother, yet, so he did not appear in her mental image. “Was Rob the one who made things difficult?” Micah asked with a smile. She could picture him doing exactly that.
“Sometimes. But Eric always played that role more than either of the other two. Although Rob had his moments. Like when he was about five and decided to surprise his dad by painting the garage door for him. The idea was good, he'd heard his father talk about needing to take care of that job, but Rob used model paint. Green, purple, orange. He painted circles, squares and triangles all over the door and spilled paint everywhere.”
Micah laughed and said, “I probably shouldn't laugh. I doubt that it seemed funny when it happened.”
But Grace was laughing, too, as she took some carrots from a plastic container and dropped them into the grater. “I don't remember being amused by any of it that day, but Rob's mess didn't upset me as much as Ed's helpful commentary on the incident when he returned home. ‘If you'd watch the kids closer, you would not have problems like this to contend with.’ Trying to explain to him the daily anguish of raising three preschool children was an impossibility. Kind of like trying to explain the daily joys of it, too, I suppose. You just have to be there to appreciate it.”
Micah added the tomatoes and cucumbers she'd sliced to the salad and tried to picture herself dealing with the joys and challenges of motherhood. Children. Of her own? She didn't think she would ever try that challenge. Or she hadn't thought so. Until recently.
“It sounds like Rob showed some interest in art at an early age by decorating your garage,” Micah remarked, rinsing the cutting board.
“That and cooking. Once, I found him in the middle of the kitchen floor stirring together a dozen cracked eggs—shells and all—in a skillet. He was preparing dinner for us, or so he claimed. Eggs were all over him, all over the kitchen…”
“Sounds like quite a mess.”
“Hmm….you'll be surprised by how difficult it all is when you're going through it, and yet, at the same time, you'll know it's some of the best years of your life. No one can tell you how it will be. You have to feel it for yourself.”
“Hi, Micah! Hi, Mom! Turn on the oven. I brought the biscuits you asked for,” Angela called out as she and her family burst into the kitchen. Grace shooed Heather away from the plate of freshly baked oatmeal cookies and gave each of her grand-children a big hug. Then Eric and his wife and daughter joined the group for the day.
At that moment two cats came running out of the hallway and into the middle of the kitchen. A black, long-haired feline with eerie blue eyes, and a short-haired calico.
“Herbie! Hattie!” shrieked Heather, who immediately went in pursuit of the pets with determination. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”
“Now, Heather, be nice to Grandma's cats,” Grace said. “They just woke up from their nap.”
“Another nap, Mother?” Angela said. “Really, that's all those animals do. Where's Ashley, anyway? Still snoozing?”
“Open the basement door, Angela. She's downstairs in the family room. I was afraid she'd get stepped on up here, but if you all promise to be careful—”
“We're not going to kill your kitten, Mom. Relax,” said the young man who had stepped in the door behind Angela. His voice sounded so like Rob's, Micah knew it had to be his brother.
“I guess I should make some introductions,” Angela began while opening the door to the basement. “Micah, this is Eric and his wife, Hope, with their baby daughter, Cassie.” Eric resembled Rob, though his eyes were brown. Hope was a pretty, blue-eyed blonde with a warm smile. Their baby Cassie had her mother's fair coloring and soft blonde curls. “And this is my husband, Dan. And, everyone, this is Micah Shepherd, Rob's girlfriend.”
Micah got through the rather uncomfortable moment all right, although the idea of being called a girlfriend when she was nearing her thirties almost amused her. She hadn't really thought of herself as Rob's “anything” in particular. She only knew that, deep in her heart, she felt certain she belonged with him, and she didn't think there had been a word invented to define those feelings.
Just then, a tiny long-haired calico kitten with blue eyes scampered across the kitchen floor.
“Oh, she's beautiful!” Micah exclaimed when the little ball of fluff rubbed around her ankles. The kitten couldn't have been more than eight weeks old and its calico fur and bright baby-blue eyes were an obvious mixture of Herbie and Hattie. “She must belong to them,” she thought aloud when the fluffy feline met up with the two older cats, all the while continuing to purr loudly.
“She's the runt of their last litter. And I do mean last litter. After having to find homes for twenty kittens over the past couple of years, I decided to have Hattie taken out of the kitty-producing business. Our vet saw to that a few days ago,” Grace explained as she tossed the various components of the salad together in a beautifully designed glass bowl. “I love cats dearly, but we've got to stop somewhere. Ashley is the only kitten of theirs I've kept, and she is simply too cute to let go.”
“I can see that. She's adorable,” Micah said and joined Heather on the floor to pet the animals. Micah scratched the kitten under its chin.
Angela steered her boys out of the kitchen, saying, “Dinner will be ready soon. Now, everybody out so we can finish up in here.”
It wasn't long before they were all seated around a large rectangular table, ready to eat. But not before the father, Ed Granston, head of this clan, offered a prayer. When he concluded, Micah looked up and gave a sideways glance with a smile to Rob, who was seated next to her. He winked and leaned near to whisper in her ear, “Relax, you're doing fine.”
“All right, you two,” the younger brother, Eric, stated. “No whispering at the table. Hope and I weren't allowed to do that when we were dating, and you're not entitled to any special privileges.”
“Shut up, Eric, and pass the potatoes,” Rob responded casually, bringing a laugh from their parents.
“It's always good to have everyone squabbling under one roof again, isn't it, dear?” Ed remarked to his wife.
Then the potatoes were passed, along with the roast beef, carrots, gravy, tossed salad and biscuits. Micah couldn't recall the last time she had enjoyed such a meal or a group of people more than the Granstons. After chocolate cake and oatmeal cookies, Angela, Hope and Micah helped Grace in the kitchen, putting away leftovers and filling the dishwasher.
They talked about teaching, which they all had done at one time or another. The topic of church came up, too, from which Micah determined that most of this family had been Christians for some time. No one commented about Rob's view on the subject except Grace, who said rather wistfully that maybe Micah could get her older son back to church someday. If anyone could, she seemed to believe it would be Micah.
The smile Grace gave to Micah as she made her remarks was one of such warmth and acceptance, Micah wished she could somehow fix it in her mind for days when she needed such gentleness. There seemed to be a chemistry between them. Something in Micah's heart somehow connected her to the older woman. It was a feeling she wanted to remember.
After the kitchen work was finished, Micah held baby Cassie, who was barely six months old, for a while, then played on the living-room floor with Heather, David and Nathan. Ashley, little bit of fluff that she was, stayed around Micah all day, while Herbie and Hattie snoozed away the hours, reclining on the back of the sofa. Ashley interrupted the board game so frequently that, finally, Micah held on to her each time the dice were rolled so she wouldn't go chasing them across the properties, knocking the playing pieces over. Rob was never far from Micah throughout the afternoon and early evening, which bolstered her confidence more than he knew.
When it neared time to go, the goodbyes were made much more easily than the nerve-racking hellos at their arrival. Rob went upstairs to retrieve their jackets from the guest bedroom where everyone had left their coats.
Micah waited at the bottom landing of the staircase until he returned. Rob held the brown jacket up as she turned around, slipping her arms in. He caught her cascade of auburn curls in one hand, pulling it free from the garment and lifting it away from her neck. And in the moment of solitude and darkness on the landing, Rob leaned forward and his mouth seared a path down the delicate cord of Micah's throat and onto the back of her neck, causing a sharp intake of breath from her at the deliciously unexpected contact. But the intimate warmth of his lips against her skin ended abruptly when Angela and Heather came around the corner without warning.
“Bad timing, Liz,” Rob remarked with a sheepish smile.
“Looks like I've arrived just in time to save a damsel in distress.”
“I'm not so sure I'm in distress,” Micah quietly responded. Rob's smile widened in approval of her reply as he placed an arm around Micah's waist.
“All the more reason for my timely arrival,” Angela commented, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “I should talk to this young woman before her thinking is any more deluded—”
“Angela,” Rob said sharply and then stopped.
Micah, surprised to hear Rob call his sister by any name other than Liz, caught her lower lip between her teeth and didn't utter a sound. An angry word between these two people was something Micah had never expected to hear, and she regretted that her quick remark had played a part in this tense exchange.
Angela immediately patted Heather on the back. “Go on upstairs and get our jackets.”
“But, Mommy, I've seen them kiss before. It's no big deal,” Heather protested as she started up the steps reluctantly.
“Heather, go,” came her mom's response before she turned to Rob with regret darkening her eyes. “I didn't mean anything—”
Rob's voice was quieter and more controlled when he interrupted her. “Not being a Christian doesn't mean that I have no respect for other—”
“I'm not saying it means anything. It was just a bad joke. Okay? Forget I said it,” Angela answered and turned to join her daughter upstairs.
Without further explanation, Rob's hand moved against Micah's back, guiding her toward the front door. “Mom, Dad, we're heading out now.”
Grace came out of the kitchen carrying two plates covered with aluminum foil. “Don't forget these leftovers. You can heat them for dinner tomorrow night.” Grace handed the items to Rob as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Mom. Tell Dad goodnight for us. I think he fell asleep in the recliner.”
“Well, that's nothing new, is it?” she commented before turning her attention to Micah. “It's been wonderful having you with us, dear. Please come back soon.”
Micah smiled and thanked Grace for the day she'd allowed Micah to share with the family. Then Ashley, the kitten, came scrambling to Micah's feet, purring and rubbing around her ankles. “I like you, too, little cat,” Micah said when she knelt to touch the soft fur. When Micah stood up again, Rob disappeared briefly into the living room to say goodbye to the rest of the family. It was then that Grace gave Micah a generous hug, which was readily returned by an appreciative Micah.
“You know, dear,” Grace began in a voice that was little more than a whisper, “Rob thinks he's discovered you all on his own. But I believe you are a gift from the Lord. And someday he'll see that.”
Micah, stunned by the comment, could only smile and thank Rob's mother again for her kindness before Rob reappeared, and with his hand on her elbow, ushered her out of his parents’ home and into the car.
“Whew,” he said as they headed down the street toward home. “Quite a day, huh?”
“I loved it, as soon as the getting acquainted part was over. And your mom, she's wonderful.”
Rob reached across the seat, taking Micah's left hand into his grasp. “I knew she'd be good for you.”
“She's quite a departure from what I'm used to. With my mother, there's always some wall, something between us that's not right. It's hard to explain. I think I'm simply not the kind of daughter she wanted.”
“Well, then, she wanted the wrong kind of daughter.”
“Maybe,” Micah replied and decided to change the subject. “Angela's husband didn't say much all day.”
“Dan has always been quiet, but with his drinking problem… He's made life hard at times for Liz and the kids. He doesn't feel very comfortable at family dinners right now.”
“How do your parents feel about him?”
“Unconditional love,” Rob responded with a negative tone. “They want him to stay sober and keep his family happy, but they'll love him no matter what. He's the prodigal son they watch and wait for.”
“I thought that was your role to play,” Micah offered softly. She had thought that about him that very day.
“Now, it's Dan's,” Rob answered quietly, and they rode in silence for the next several minutes.
“Rob,” Micah began, “you can tell me to mind my own business if you want to and I won't be offended, but what happened back there between you and Angela? I've never known you to be angry with her about anything.”
Rob didn't respond right away, and Micah expected him to choose not to tell her.
“What you saw back there between us was guilt. Plain and simple.”
Micah frowned in misunderstanding, but refrained from asking further questions. If he wanted to tell her, he would without prompting.
“Micah…Liz was pregnant when she married Dan.”
“I didn't know,” was the only appropriate comment she could think to make.
“Well, that makes you one of the few people who didn't. For my family, Liz's condition was quite scandalous at the time.”
“But that was years ago. What difference could it make now?” And, Micah considered silently, if the Granstons reacted badly to that situation, what would they think of her own past?
“None, really,” Rob replied. “I don't care much for Dan. It's difficult to feel brotherly toward someone who has caused Liz so much heartache.”
It was not Rob's statement as much as the strain in his voice that puzzled Micah. What was it that she detected? Anger, regret, guilt?
“I get the feeling that somehow, in all of this, you blame yourself,” she commented.
“Liz would never have gotten involved with him if I'd been paying enough attention to stop it. She's always looked up to me more than she should. But all this started right after Nick died…and that's when my own life came unglued for a couple of years. And Liz, she paid the price for some of it.”
“Maybe you should be a little more forgiving of yourself. You know? I mean, maybe your sister really fell in love with Dan and would have made the same decisions whether or not you approved of him.”
“I don't know. I don't think so, but she loves him now. And so do Mom and Dad. They'd all be happier with me if I did, too.”
“So, you're trying?”
“If I could just like him, that would be a start,” he said with a smile. They pulled onto Micah's street and into their usual parking spot. “That's enough about my family. Tell me about your mother's letter.
“It was nothing, really. Just a stay-in-touch letter she sends every now and then. You know, the ‘I'm fine, how are you?’ kind.”
“That's all?” Rob asked, skepticism obvious in his tone.
“That and will I be moving soon? Or have I found a place I can make permanent? Have I spoken to Dad—”
“Have you?”
“No,” she responded.
“Could you? If you wanted to?”
“Yes, but he wouldn't be interested,” she stated and offered nothing more.
Rob hesitated, apparently hoping she would continue, but she only suggested they go inside her apartment, which they did, in silence.
Once inside, Micah began to slip out of her spring jacket, when Rob reached toward her, sliding it easily down her arms. She turned to face him, wanting very much to be in his arms, but she noticed he still wore his jacket. She looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“I'm not staying long,” he explained and remained in the entryway as Micah shut the closet door and leaned back against it with a sigh of disappointment.
“But we haven't been alone for more than a few minutes all day,” she said.
“It's better for you that we haven't been,” he stated gently.
“But I liked what you were doing to my neck when Angela interrupted us.” She smiled and moved close to him, placing both hands on his chest.
“I doubt that you liked it as much as I did,” he remarked before taking her fully into his arms. “Which is exactly why I should be leaving now.”
“Rob, don't go,” she pleaded and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Not yet”
Rob's eyes darkened as he studied Micah's steady gaze. Then he kissed her once, too lightly, on the lips, and Micah surprised herself with her eager reaction to the brief touch of his lips against hers. She raised up, inviting a more intimate contact, which evoked a quiet groan from him. Then his mouth recaptured hers with a possessiveness he'd not allowed between them before tonight. And Micah responded, meeting his demanding kiss with all the yearning she'd felt for him since the very beginning now playing out in this one exchange. When Rob's mouth abandoned the softness of her lips to trail kisses down her chin, jawline and the slender column of her throat, she tilted her head to the side, exposing more soft skin for his exploration. And the thought of not having this man—never having this man—pierced her heart, and she moaned softly in a bittersweet mixture of the sadness of letting him go and the pleasure he offered her. Now. Always.
“Micah,” he breathed her name as he pulled slightly away from her. “I'm trying to be a gentleman, but I'm having trouble remembering how to do that.”
“And I'm not exactly helping, am I?” she commented. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from him.
“No, you're not,” he agreed, letting her slip from his arms. “And Liz isn't around to discourage us.”
Micah smiled. “Maybe we should call her. She might come over to supervise.”
“I'm sure she would, and she'd probably bring all three kids. That would cool things down considerably.”
“But please stay for a while,” she said. “I could make some coffee. We could sit at the table and talk.”
“No, it's time for me to leave.” He kissed her forehead lightly. “Because talking isn't what I had in mind,” he admitted with a disturbing smile.
Micah trailed a finger across Rob's lips. “I guess I've known all along that I'd never really have you. Not the way I want to,” she stated softly. “But it's never hurt as much as it does now.”
“There will be a right time for us, but this isn't it,” he assured her.
“There'll never be a right time,” she said more to herself than to him. “Because being husband and wife is the only right time for this, and we will never be that”
“Why?” he asked suddenly. “I've never been as sure of anything in my life as I am of us. We belong together, and whether you'll admit it or not, I know you feel it, too.”
“It just can't happen. This was wrong from the beginning. I was foolish to let it go so far.”
“Micah, I don't care what the obstacles are. We can work through them.”
“No, we can't—” she insisted.
“Yes, we can, and we will. I don't care if you are married. I'll get you out of it. Divorces, dissolutions…it's not as difficult as it seems.”
“Married?” She laughed at the thought, but then she saw the sincerity in his direct gaze. “What would make you think I'm married?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me! Why would you say such a thing? Do you think I could have a husband stashed away somewhere, yet get involved with you? Love you the way I do?”
“Things happen. Even to Christians. People sometimes do things they never dreamed they would do.”
“I wouldn't be unfaithful to a husband! I don't care how much I wanted someone else.”
“We haven't exactly committed adultery yet,” Rob stated.
“But there's more to unfaithfulness than falling into bed with someone. You and I have spent hours together. We've laughed and eaten and held hands…and kissed until I felt I could almost die from wanting you. Do you think I would do that if I'd promised my life to some other man?”
“Micah—”
“And if you think that, how could you trust me to belong to you? All you'd have is a relationship with a woman who has already cheated on one husband.”
He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “I know you, Micah. Regardless of what's happened in the past, what we have together is real. I'd take my chances.” Rob turned and walked to the nearby bookcase, and pulled a small white Bible from the highest shelf. “I suppose most kids get one of these as a graduation gift from their church, a Bible with their name engraved in gold letters on the cover. But why does yours read, ‘Micah Marie Jamison’?”
“You had no right to go through my things—”
“I'm sorry if it seems as if I pried, but I need to know,” he interrupted. “Why is your name Shepherd now? What happened in the last decade to account for the difference?”
“Well, certainly not a marriage,” she replied and sank into the chair behind her. There was no avoiding this subject now. “I had it changed, legally changed, when I became an adult.”
He returned the leather-bound book to the shelf. “How did your parents react to the news?”
“My father asked me to do it. Ordered me, actually.” Micah answered the questions, knowing there would be many more.
“Why, Micah? Why would a parent do that to a child?”
“Because our name had gained a lot of notoriety in the community. In the whole area, really,” she said and sadly shook her head. “The trial you've asked me about was my father's, as I've told you.”
Rob stood silently watching her begin to explain her past
“Like I told you, my father didn't just steal some money, he embezzled it—lots of it—from the company he worked for. He's still in prison as far as I know. Mother and Father suffered through a terrible trial.”
“And so did you,” he added.
“Yes, well, the publicity was heavy. Everyone knew about it. And it was far more scandalous than what happened with Angela and Dan, believe me. I wouldn't want to see your family's reaction to this—”
“I'll take care of that. Tell me the rest”
Micah folded her hands in her lap to steady them and looked down at the floor rather than into Rob's eyes. “We had a beautiful home then…new cars, clothes, vacations several times a year …it was a lavish lifestyle. And, apparently, at least some of it was financed with money that wasn't ours. Anyway, once my father's trial was under way, there were stories and photos of us in the local news, coming and going to the courthouse.” She paused and rubbed her arms to wish away a sudden chill. “I lost everything. My parents, my home, my friends. I was only seventeen, Rob. It frightened me.”
“Is that when your mother left?”
“She stayed until the trial ended. Then she left for Paris with a friend. A man…who I think was her ‘friend’ long before they arrived in France. She asked me to go along, but I refused. We'd never gotten along well together, and without Dad as a buffer between us, I knew it wouldn't work.”
“What did you do? I mean, you were just a kid.”
“I went to a church I had visited a few times earlier that year. And I just sat there in a pew one afternoon, wondering what I was going to do. A woman came up to me and wanted to talk. She turned out to be the pastor's wife. I think the more we talked, the more I cried. And pretty soon, she was crying, too. Oh, Rob, she was so kind, caring, compassionate…. She was everything I needed her to be.”
Rob moved to Micah's side and placed a hand on her shoulder without saying a word. His touch against her arm was gentle, and she reached up to take his hand.
“She was so helpful and patient, listening to me ramble on and on. I used to think I'd be a pastor's wife someday…and be just like she was so I could help people who needed it. I know this sounds crazy, but she offered to let me stay with them.”
“There's nothing crazy about it, Micah. God helped you through her.”
“But she didn't know anything more about me than what I told her and what the papers said. Yet, she took me into that parsonage with her three kids and her husband, and they accepted me as though I belonged there. I stayed with them for the next two months while I finished school. Then I found a job as a secretary and a cheap efficiency apartment in the area so I could be on my own. But that family made the difference in what my life turned out to be,” Micah continued with a smile. “They are the reason I accepted the Lord into my life. They offered me compassion when I thought I'd never find it anywhere, and I wanted to be like them. I still do.”
“That's one of the reasons I love you so,” Rob said, his voice edged with sadness.
“But I've told you from the beginning we shouldn't start this. You thought if I loved you, it would change things,” Micah gently explained. “But I do, and it doesn't change anything.”
Rob touched her face and the tenderness in his expression was almost unbearable for Micah to see. “It won't rewrite history, if that's what you mean,” he said. “It can't turn your dad into an honest man or make your mother into the maternal type. But it doesn't have to be the end of us. We can live with this.”
“No, we can't. I won't,” she stated emphatically.
“But, have you told me everything? Is that all there is to it?”
“Isn't that enough?” Micah responded, deliberately not answering the question.
“You've had a horrible experience, and I know your father is in prison…but if I can accept that without reservation, why won't you let me? This career doesn't mean—”
“It's not just your profession. It just can't work for us. It might be fine in the beginning, but there will come a day when you realize what a mistake you've made—”
“Then what do you want from me, Micah? Here? Now? And nothing more?”
“That's all we can have.”
“You can't give me today and expect me not to want tomorrow. That's too much to ask.”
“That's all I have to give you,” she whispered, trying not to cry as she pulled her hand away from his grasp.
“Did you think I could be with you and not fall in love? Micah, I've loved you almost from the be ginning.”
“You want what you think I am…not the real me. You need someone who can be a part of your family. Someone who will give you children. I won't.”
Micah hated what she'd done to him when he looked at her in disbelief. She knew the hurt she had dealt him; it was her pain, too.
“Why wouldn't you have a child with me?” he asked quietly.
“I don't know how to be a good parent. My mother never loved me. Not from my earliest memory. She only stays in touch with me out of a sense of duty. I won't pass that legacy on to a next generation.”
“Micah, you're a teacher! I've seen you with Heather and the boys, and you have all the right instincts with kids. There's nothing maternal lacking in you.”
“But you don't know how it feels. You have your family, the things you've learned from them, their presence in your life, their love.”
“They'll love you, too. They'll be your family.”
“Why should they?”
“Because I love you. My mom is already crazy about you,” he protested.
“She won't be when she knows what a liability I can be to her son. I've already had one mom protect her son from me. I don't intend to go through that again.”
“When did that happen? You've never mentioned—”
“It's not important. What matters is that you find someone who will give you the respectable life that you deserve…with lots of kids so you can have Sunday get-togethers like your parents do and Thanksgiving dinners and eat fruitcake in December—" Her wavering words broke off with a cry, and she stood up and walked to the front door. Turning the knob and breaking the heart that beat within her, she pulled open the door.
Rob stood by the chair for a minute, watching her in a mixture of disbelief and mounting frustration. “Micah, don't do this. I don't care about family dinners—”
“Yes, you do. They're part of you as much as my upbringing is a part of me. This was wrong, Rob, from the beginning. I'm sorry.”
“It was never wrong. Not with us,” he insisted. His eyes misted with tears, and Micah looked away as he continued, “But I can't fight you every step of the way. This hurts too much.”
“Then don't.” She choked the words out.
“All right, you win,” he conceded bitterly. “There's obviously more to this story than you're telling me, because this isn't enough to keep us apart. Are you going to give me the missing piece of this puzzle before I walk out of here?”
Micah shook her head no without looking up into the frustration she knew she'd find in his eyes.
“Then I'll leave you alone with your miserable past or whatever it is you want to hold on to more than you want me. I didn't accept inadequate answers from God, and I won't accept them from you.” Then he walked away.
Micah leaned back against the wall and slid down, inches at a time, until she sank onto the floor and, burying her face in her hands, wept inconsolably.
The days passed slowly and the nights even more slowly. Micah purposely avoided her apartment as much as she could, assuming Rob would return. But if he had, there was no indication of it. No notes, no calls, no messages on the answering machine. Nothing.
Teaching the next several days kept her busy most of the time, and Angela didn't mention the breakup. Micah spent some time painting in the park when weather permitted. The summer-festival season for her artwork would begin over the long holiday weekend, and she needed to prepare for her display. The country-church scene she'd started months ago, before her weeks with Rob, had been sadly neglected. But she started working on it again, and it began to take shape the way she had envisioned it, exactly as it had looked that first afternoon she saw it—a welcoming place that was in need of a good paint job. Suddenly, Micah missed that little church in the woods. She felt almost homesick for it. Maybe she'd go back there this Sunday. It had been so long since she'd visited. But she had always supposed Rob would go with her one day. It was the kind of place he would like.
Thursday evening came and she dawdled around the neighborhood Laundromat nearly twice as long as necessary rather than hurry home to a lonely apartment. Carole came in with her own dirty laundry just as Micah began folding the dish towels.
“Hiya!” Carole said as she plopped her basketful of clothes onto the floor. “Why haven't you called? I wanted to know how your day with Rob's family went.”
“Sorry. I haven't felt very chatty these days.” Micah knew Carole would talk about the cute accountant she had been seeing, and she did not want to hear it so soon after losing Rob. “So, how are you?” she asked and braced herself.
“I'm okay, and I'm learning a lot about finances as well as other things,” Carole answered with a mischievous expression as she dumped an odd assortment of clothing into the washer. “How did family day with the Granstons go?”
“Wonderful,” Micah replied with a sad sigh.
“I see. And that explains why you look so miserable?” Carole remarked with a frown. “I don't understand you. How could you have a guy like that and be so unhappy?”
“We're not seeing each other any longer,” Micah said and continued folding her towels.
“Not seeing each other!” Carole exclaimed so loudly other people in the Laundromat looked over at them. “After all you've been through with him, now it's over? Are you serious?”
Micah reached for a washcloth. “Yes, I'm serious.”
Carole placed her hands on the table and pushed herself up to sit on top of the folding table, sitting directly beneath a posted sign: Do Not Sit On Machines Or Table. “I should have known something was wrong. I haven't heard from you for days.”
“It just won't work, Carole. No matter how hard we try.”
“You've got to be kidding. You saw each other almost nonstop for weeks, and now it's just over. There's something you're not telling me.”
“No juicy details to tell you. It simply wasn't meant to be.” Micah stacked the last of her dish towels onto the top of a nearly full basket “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“But—” Carole stopped abruptly as Micah's green gaze flashed a warning that temporarily halted her friend's relentless prying.
“I'm glad things are working out for you and your accountant.”
“He has a really nice friend. We could introduce you to him,” Carole said.
Suddenly, all Micah wanted to do was go home. “I don't think so, Carole. Thanks, anyway.”
“You're really in love with Rob,” Carole stated.
Micah shrugged. “It doesn't matter now. I'll see you later.”
“I'll never understand you, Micah Shepherd. I've watched you date guys over the past two years that you didn't care much for, and then you find one who is right for you and you tell me, ‘it just won't work’.” Carole was quiet for a moment. “You're the one who ended it.”
“Yes,” Micah answered. “Someone had to.”
“And we're back to him being a lawyer again, aren't we? Are you in trouble with the law or something?” Carole asked quietly. “I mean, I wouldn't tell anybody and that would explain—”
“No,” Micah replied briskly. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm not on a Most Wanted poster anywhere.” Picking up her overflowing laundry basket, she started toward the door.
“Micah, you're making a serious mistake, and by the time you realize it, it may be too late. Trust me on this,” Carole responded, watching Micah leave.
“Thanks, Carole. I know you mean well, but that's just the way it is. I'll call you in a day or two.” Micah backed through the double doors. “When I do, let's talk about something other than Rob Granston, attorney-at-law. Okay?”