Three

Jackie stepped out into the night air with two other RNs and took a deep breath. They always left the hospital in twos and threes to cross the parking lot in the dark. Her coworkers were having a discussion she was only half listening to about a particularly difficult doctor. She usually satisfied the doctor’s wishes, but tonight he’d yelled at her for incompetence. Just the icing on the cake of a horrible day. Today had been a long week. Less than twelve hours ago, her life had been turned completely upside down. But then Roger had that effect.

She tuned back in when Dixie said good night to Ramona. Jackie and Dixie continued through the lot.

“Dr. Hoon was in rare form tonight. When he can’t get along with you, I know he’s having a bad day.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” Jackie was normally the only one who could appease Dr. Hoon. She had figured out what he liked and could anticipate his requests. But not tonight. She hadn’t connected one logical thought to the next. She had plenty of thoughts, just not related to one another. It had almost made her late for work. “It was mine. I’m having a very stressful day. I wasn’t alert to his needs.”

“I felt so sorry for you.”

“As long as he doesn’t bite, I can handle his bark.”

Suddenly Dixie grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop. “Let’s go to my car. I’ll drive you home.”

Jackie’s heart leapt at the sight of Roger, leaning carefree against the back of her minivan with his hands behind him. The lights in the parking lot cast a shadow across his face, making him appear more ominous, more mysterious, than usual in contrast to his relaxed stance. Her wayward heart danced. Was she ready for this? She hadn’t had time to think.

He had sent her thoughts spinning the night she met him in the ER; he’d rushed in carrying a sick boy he didn’t even know. Roger to the rescue. Right place, right time, take charge. Despite her swirling thoughts, she had resisted the urge to fall for the handsome, mysterious hero. But he kept asking her out and finally wore her down. Once she agreed to go out with him, she fell easily in love. When she said “I do” six weeks later, it seemed as though she had known him much longer. And a year later, he was gone.

Dixie tugged on her arm. “Let’s go.”

Jackie remained unmoved. “It’s all right.”

“Do you know that guy?”

She thought she did—once. “It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jackie forced her feet to move, pulled along by her heart.

Roger waited. “Did your friend warn you not to come over here?”

“Should she have?”

He pushed away from the van and pulled a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. “I won’t hurt you.”

But you have. She took the offered flowers, a disarming move. She should be ecstatic her husband was back from the grave. What was wrong with her? Away. . .I can’t talk about it. Not even to his wife? “I’m not up for this.”

“I just want to talk.”

But not about his whereabouts the past two and a half years.

“Tomorrow?”

Would she be any less confused then? “I don’t know.”

“I know we have things to work out between us, and I know they are all my fault. But I want a chance to work them out with you. Just a chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

She knew the outcome if she gave him a chance. She would be drawn to him beyond her control. He would gaze at her, and she would melt. But armed with that knowledge, she could resist. She unlocked her car door. But did she want to resist?

Like the gentleman he had always been with her, he opened her door. His arm lingered across the opening, hindering her from getting in. “In spite of everything, I still love you. I never stopped.”

“I don’t know you.”

“How can you say that? We lived a year as husband and wife. You know me as well as anyone.”

“The man I thought you were wouldn’t have left without a word.”

She ducked under his arm and slid into the driver’s seat. He stood holding her door open but said nothing. She stared out over the steering wheel. She had been so excited to see him after all this time, and in one little word, away, he had taken her happiness from her. She knew she should get past it and move on, but she didn’t want to. Roger had been fine, he said, and chose not to come back to her. She wanted him to suffer as she had. She was only human.

“It’s late. I need to go.”

He still said nothing. She would wait him out. He was reluctant to let her go, but he would, of that she was sure.

“I want to see my son.”

His words were soft and undemanding. He must know that if he made demands of her she would shut him out. Maybe she did know him a little after all. And he knew her. She looked up at him. She couldn’t deny her son the opportunity to get to know his father.

“Ten tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He swung the door shut and stepped back.

❧

Jackie crept in through the garage door of her parents’ house. The dim light of the TV flickered from the living room. Someone had waited up for her. She walked softly so as not to wake anyone else and tapped her dad on the shoulder from behind the couch. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

He patted her hand as he turned. “I can’t sleep when your mother’s not in bed.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“She crawled in bed with RJ. He was fussy and wouldn’t stay in bed. He wanted you.”

“I’m sorry.” She heard the creak of the basement steps.

Her mother joined them. “I thought that was you. You’re home a bit later than usual.”

“How is he?”

“He’s quiet now, but I don’t expect it to last long. I’m not sure if it’s just bad dreams or if he might be developing an ear infection.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Who are the flowers from? A doctor?” The hope in her mother’s voice was unmistakable.

Her stomach knotted. She should tell them. They deserved to know. She took a deep breath. “They’re from Roger.”

Her mother looked as shocked as she herself had felt earlier in the day. “Roger? Your husband? He’s alive?”

“Where is he?” her dad asked, his eyes widening.

She knew her parents would have questions. She had questions. But so far she hadn’t received many answers. This one, at least, she could answer.

“In town.”

“Where has he been? What happened?” her dad asked.

Here were the questions she couldn’t answer. “I don’t know. He hasn’t told me anything.”

“What do you mean? Why not?” her mother snapped.

“I don’t know.”

“For a woman whose husband has just come back from the dead, you don’t know very much. And you certainly don’t look happy,” her mother said sharply.

Was she? Of course she was happy, but confused and angry he wasn’t being honest with her. Right now that was what loomed before her.

“I told you there was something about him.”

“Mother, please.” Her mother had always said there was something about him she didn’t trust. And Roger was proving her right. “I don’t want to talk about it now. I just thought you should know.”

She turned and headed for the basement, her sanctuary. It was almost like having her own place: two bedrooms—one for her, the other for RJ—and the recreation room. It held a mini refrigerator, microwave, hot plate, and toaster oven, with a small table and chairs for dining, and a couch and TV. Except for doing their laundry, she had to go upstairs only to enter and exit. But sometimes she lived as much upstairs as down. She didn’t like the closed in feeling of the basement.

From the top of the stairs, Jackie could hear RJ crying. She had known he was upset when she left him at the sitter’s earlier in the day. He had been clingy, sensing the tension between her and Roger, and she was too rushed to settle him before leaving. She hurried to his room and scooped him up, needing to hold him as much as he needed to be held. “It’s okay, Sweety. Mommy’s here.”

She kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed with him. He snuggled up close and drifted off to sleep. Jackie wished she could fall asleep so fast but knew she would be lucky if she got any sleep at all.

Oh, Father! You answered my prayer, but now what do I do with it—with him? I should be happy, but I’m so confused. I want him back, but I don’t know if I could handle it if he went “away” again. Where was he? Do I even want to know? RJ deserves a father he can count on. Can we count on Roger? Will he be there to watch him grow up and do all the things a father should do with his son? What do I do?

Trust.

Trust? Trust Roger? How? I can’t.

Jackie rolled over and tried to put both God and Roger out of her thoughts. But what else was there to think about? She got up an hour later and heated a glass of milk and changed for bed; then she crawled between her cold sheets and propped the novel she was reading on her knees. She needed to focus on someone else’s life and troubles. It was easy to know what another person should do. Real life was so much harder.

She mentally shook the past and present free and focused on the character’s problems.

❧

On the corner of Becket and Glover Streets, Roger watched the glow of the basement light. Jackie was up. He had seen her shadow pass by the window. He longed to go to her, hold her in his arms as he once had, to know his son and be a father to him. He had to believe Jackie and RJ were alive because he had gone away. If he hadn’t returned so often to watch them from a distance, they’d still be safe. But his compulsion to see them again and again had endangered them, and now he was between the proverbial rock and hard place with no open door for escape. But some said that when the Lord closed a door He opened a window. And his window of escape was Jackie. He had to wait for the Lord’s timing, though. He prayed again for their safety. Now it was more important than ever.

The following morning, he leapt up the front porch steps and rang the bell at nine forty-five. He hoped Jackie wouldn’t mind his being early. The first thing he noticed when she opened the door was the dark circles under her eyes; he knew he had caused them. Soon this would all be over, he hoped, and they could live a normal life. If that was possible.

She smiled at him and invited him inside. “I’m glad you came early.”

That made his heart dance.

“RJ was up during the night. He’s going to need to go down for his nap early.”

The dance ended. “Where is he?”

She motioned toward the kitchen. “He’s eating a snack before his nap.” She led the way. Her loose hair hung to the middle of her back in gentle waves.

He could remember the feel of it between his fingers and longed to touch it again. But he wouldn’t push her. She had agreed to let him come over to see his son, and he would respect that whether he wanted to or not. He knew he had to wait. He had raced ahead of the Lord before, doing things his way, and now he was estranged from his wife and son.

RJ climbed out of his high chair and had one foot on the tray. Jackie raced over to him. “RJ! Sit down.”

“Out, Mama, out.” He held out his arms to her.

She caught him up as the high chair began to tip. His sticky banana-coated hands clutched her around the neck and in her hair. Roger almost laughed. RJ turned and stared at him as Jackie wiped his hands with the dish cloth at the sink. He enjoyed watching her move and interact with his son. A luxury he had missed.

RJ fussed when she set him down to clean the high chair tray.

“Hey, RJ—I’ll hold you.” Roger reached down and picked up his son for the first time. The boy’s eyes widened; then he squirmed and stretched out his hands to his mother. “It’s okay. Your mommy will be finished in a minute.” It cut him deeply to see his son afraid of him. He had to expect it, but that didn’t lessen the pain.

Jackie tossed the dish cloth in the sink. “I’ll take him.”

Roger reluctantly handed his son to her. He was determined to succeed in his mission; then little by little he would win them over. He had to believe both of these things, or he would give up all together.

“You’re welcome to come down.” Jackie adjusted RJ on her hip and went downstairs.

When Roger caught up with her at the bottom, he noticed the basement had been redone since he’d left. The couch and dinette set they’d had in their apartment replaced his in-laws’ furniture. The flowers he had given her last night sat in the middle of the table.

RJ scrubbed his face into Jackie’s shoulder. She rubbed his back. “He’s really tired. I should put him down.”

“But I just got here. I haven’t had a chance to see him.”

“I can’t help that. He needs a nap.”

“May I see him for a few minutes before he has to go?”

She let out an exaggerated breath and sat on the floor with RJ on her lap. “Go get your truck, Honey.” He shook his head.

Roger plucked a truck out of a toy basket and sat down with them. “Here’s your truck.”

RJ turned away from him.

“Does he know who I am?”

“RJ, who’s this?” Jackie pointed to Roger. RJ stared at him. “Who is this?”

RJ crawled off her lap and ran down the hall.

Jackie shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry. He’s usually friendlier than this.”

RJ returned with a silver picture frame and handed it to Jackie. “Mama.” He pointed to the lady in the long white dress.

It was their wedding picture. Jackie was so beautiful and happy. He wanted to put that smile back on her face. She deserved to be happy. He wished he could return to that day and change the things that had gone wrong. The things he had done wrong.

Jackie pointed to Roger in the picture. “Who’s this?”

RJ looked shyly at Roger and back at the picture, then said in a quiet little voice, “Daddy.”

His heart skipped a beat when he heard that word come from his son’s mouth. Jackie had taught him who his father was, even in his absence. He didn’t deserve either one of them.

Jackie pointed to Roger. “Who is this?” Her voice was sweet and coaxing.

Roger held his breath.

RJ stood so his nose was almost touching Jackie’s but didn’t turn to look at Roger. “Daddy.” His voice was so small and quiet that if there had been any other noise in the room the lone word would have been lost. “Nigh-night, Mama. Go nigh-night.”

Jackie gave Roger an apologetic look, then picked up RJ and walked down the hall.

Roger let out his breath slowly. He placed the toy truck carefully back in the basket with the other toys. How could a stupid basket of toys make him feel as if he had a treasure chest filled with gold doubloons before him? Because they were his son’s toys. Treasures indeed! Thank You, Lord.

Roger scanned the room. Jackie wasn’t the pack-rat she once was. He wanted to search the room for what he needed, but he knew it was wrong and not the way God would have him handle this. He had to trust God to work it out. He doubted he’d find what he needed here anyway. The room was almost bare, except for a basket of toys and a few children’s books. He picked up their wedding picture and caressed Jackie’s outline. “I love you.”

Jackie returned and yawned. “We’ll have to do this some other time.”

He wanted to take her in his arms and ravish her with kisses to thank her for his son. “Tomorrow then.”

“Saturday? My parents—”

“The park. Say ten o’clock.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll wait.”

She slumped her shoulders, apparently too tired to fight. He knew she would be there. Her expression softened as RJ came up beside her. She took him in her arms. “What are you doing up, Honey?”

He draped his arms and head over Jackie’s shoulders like a wet rag. She backed up and sat on one end of the couch.

Roger sat down next to her and touched RJ’s back. “Is he okay?”

“He’s just tired.” She readjusted RJ so her arm holding him was resting on the couch. Soon they were both asleep, and Jackie’s head bobbed over onto Roger’s shoulder.

This was what his life was supposed to be. And he would do everything in his power to have it. He sat for over an hour savoring the life he was meant to have, watching his son sleep.

Then RJ wiggled a little, and his eyes opened slowly and blinked at him. The boy climbed down, and Jackie’s head rolled off Roger’s shoulder. Then she scooted down until she was curled up on her side. Roger stood.

“Mama seep.”

Roger put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Yes, she is.”

“Hungee.”

How do you tell a two year old to whisper? “What do you want to eat?” He kept his voice low hoping RJ would get the idea.

“Hot dog!”

Roger winced at RJ’s volume, but Jackie remained unmoved.

RJ yanked several times on the small refrigerator until it opened. He pulled out a package of hot dogs and retrieved one, leaving the package on the floor and the refrigerator door open. Then he climbed into the chair with a booster seat and champed off a bite.

Roger put away the package and took the seat adjacent to him. “Do you want a bun to go with that? Some catsup, a little mustard? Chili and fried onions are great on those things.” RJ blinked at him and continued eating, obviously preferring his dog plain. Roger would have to teach him the fine art of eating a hot dog the right way when he was old enough to appreciate it.

After RJ finished his hot dog and Roger gave him a little box of juice, the two sat on the floor by the basket of toys. Roger pulled out the truck, and RJ took it from him. He pulled out a car. The little boy took that. Every toy his father pulled out of the box, RJ took until his lap was full. His father got the idea. They were the boy’s treasures, and he wasn’t willing to share. Roger would enjoy watching.

“Does your mommy have to go into work tonight?”

“Mama seep.”

“Yes, I know,” he whispered, hoping it would sink in.

❧

“Yes, Mommy has to work tonight.” Jackie stretched out on the couch and rubbed her eyes. It was time for her to wake up anyway.

Roger moved over to the couch. “I’m sorry. I tried to get him to whisper, but I didn’t know how.”

Jackie sat up. “Two year olds have one volume—loud. They talk loud, they cry loud, and they laugh loud.” The laughter was the best.

“I’m sorry he woke you.”

It was nice for someone to care about her, but odd just the same. “I need to get ready for work.”

“I’ll watch RJ. You go ahead.”

Jackie went reluctantly, not because she thought RJ wouldn’t be okay or Roger would take off with him. She had enjoyed listening to the two of them and had peeked out between squinted eyes at them. A chili dog? That would be a long time in coming. When Roger missed being squirted with the juice box, she almost giggled. She showered and dressed quickly, then worked her hair into a French braid. She wanted to get back out to—her family. She smiled. When she came back out into the living room, Roger sat on the couch reading RJ his favorite book, Inside Teddy’s House. Tears welled up in her eyes.

She backed up slowly and retrieved her camera. She didn’t have any pictures of the two of them. This, she hoped, would be the first of many. She checked the F-stop and put her fingers on the focus ring until they became two sharp images: Roger and a miniature copy. She stared at them through the lens. Father and son. Her mother used to sit with her like that and read; with her father she would stand next to the car as he changed the oil or replaced the water pump, handing him tools. Eventually she helped him even more. What would this pair do together?

Roger’s eyes widened in mock surprise as RJ said “ball” and turned the page.

The shutter clicked as she pressed the button. Both heads came up.

RJ scooted off the couch and held his arms up to her. “Mama.”

Jackie picked him up as she blinked back moisture. She had broken the spell, but she had captured the moment on film.

Roger stood as well and saluted her. “Nurse Jackie ready for duty.” He looked at his watch. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

“Actually we do. I have errands to run before work.”

“I suppose calling in sick isn’t an option.”

“People are counting on me. I want to see how my patients are doing.”

“Jackie the dependable.”

She could tell by the way he said it that he admired it in her. She wished he would depend on her and trust her enough to tell her what had happened to him. “Walk us out. I have a surprise.”

Roger raised his eyebrows and tried to take RJ into his arms but settled for the diaper bag. “So, is this a good surprise?”

“I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Jackie opened the door to the garage and stepped into the cool darkness. The light from the house usually lit her way when her hands were full, but Roger flipped the switch, and the room flooded with light. She pulled the side door of her blue van open and dropped her purse onto the floor. “You can put the diaper bag in there too.”

“So what’s my surprise?”

She smiled. Probably not what he thought, but he would like it. He always had. “It’s over here.” With RJ still on her hip she walked around Roger to the far back corner. She set RJ down and pulled back an orange plastic tarp from the lump beneath it. “I believe this is yours.”

Roger stared at the shiny, black motorcycle. “You kept my Harley?” He touched the tail bar and ran his hand over the leather seat.

“What else would I have done with it?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “You could have sold it.”

“It wasn’t mine to sell.”

“Daddy-cycoe.” RJ stepped on the foot peg and tried to climb aboard. Roger hoisted him up and swung on behind him. “Rrrr. I driving. Rrrr.”

Roger’s expression softened, and his mouth curved up at RJ’s usage of Daddy. He didn’t realize RJ had no concept of what Daddy meant. It was just a word she had taught him, like any other. Roger would have to teach him the meaning. Good or bad, he would learn that from his father. She could see in her son’s eyes that he was confused over the whole daddy thing. Now there was a person to go with it, and he was trying to process this new information.

“I don’t imagine it’s been run lately.”

The gleam in Roger’s eyes reminded her of RJ’s when he visited a toy store for the first time. It was right to keep the motorcycle, though on several occasions in hurt and frustration she had seriously thought about selling it or swinging a bat at it. So here it sat, like Jackie, waiting for Roger. “Every weekend.”

He looked up. His smile broadened. “You’ve been riding it?”

“Dad has. He’s driven it at least once a week. He didn’t want the engine or something to dry out.” Her father had diligently maintained it in Roger’s absence. But she knew it wasn’t for Roger that he’d kept it in prime condition. It was for her. His subtle way of helping her preserve her dream of Roger coming back.

“Can I take it out?”

“It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

Roger pushed it out into the driveway with RJ still at the handlebars. RJ giggled when it roared to life and rumbled beneath him. Jackie could picture the two of them on identical motorcycles, tearing up the roads. First, RJ would have to be taught to ride a regular bike. Would Roger be around to do that?

Roger shut it down. “It runs smooth. John did more than just drive it.”

Yes, he had. He’d babied it in much the same way Roger had.

RJ beamed at Jackie. “I drive daddy-cycoe.”

“You certainly did.” She plucked him off the seat, then turned to Roger who was still straddling the motorcycle. “We need to go now. You two have fun.”

“Wait.” Roger put the kickstand down and stepped off. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her before she could react. “Thank you.”

Jackie tottered to her van unsure what to make of it. Her lips tingled. It was calculated, that was for sure. But was she glad he’d kissed her? Or was she angry? She strapped RJ in his car seat and heaved the sliding door shut. Roger was right there when she turned around. She caught her breath.

“I never thought I’d see my Harley again.” Roger’s eyes were intense and full of appreciation.

So the kiss was a simple thank you, nothing more. Not, Jackie, I can’t live without you. Or, Jackie, you are everything to me.

“I’m going to make things right between us. I promise.” He caressed her cheek.

She sucked in a quick breath. It was a promise she hoped he kept. He had always been so confident. She hoped his confidence wasn’t misplaced this time.