Love Is Patient Page 10

  His words stunned Vanessa for a moment until she followed his rueful gaze. He’d managed to drop a shrimp, and it had slithered away from the serving spoon, leaving a thin, messy, pinkish streak across the table.

  “You can’t escape me!” Vanessa nabbed it with her fork. “Ta da! Gotcha, you little rascal.”

  “Catching a shrimp isn’t a big deal. I wish you woulda gotten a whale.” Jeff’s lower lip poked out in a classic pout. “I didn’t get to see no whale on our trip.”

  “No, we didn’t get to see any whales, but we did see lots of cool sea creatures yesterday at the tide pools,” Nathan reminded him. “You saw anemones and urchins and hermit crabs. . . .”

  “Van? Dad said we can go back to the tide pools again. Wanna come with us?”

  “I’d love to!”

  After the meal was over, Nathan swiped the check and paid the bill. They all walked out to the parking lot, and after he left, Dad and Mom bracketed Vanessa.

  “Honey, he’s a good man,” Mom said.

  “But he’s not walking with the Lord,” Dad said. “He’s fallen away. I hate to see you get more deeply involved. It’s a big mistake.”

  “Involved? It’s friendship. And for the record, I have a deal with Nathan. He knows he has a standing invitation to come to church, but I don’t bug him. Today was the first time in five years he’s attended church, and I’m thankful for that answer to prayer.”

  “We’re glad he came. We hope he continues, but Van, don’t start wading into ‘missionary dating.’ You know it’s wrong.”

  “Yeah. I understand. Just notice that it was Jeff who asked me to go to the tide pools—not Nathan.”

  Inside, she felt a niggling about that fact. She really wished Nathan had asked. . . Then again, she was glad he hadn’t—not because of her family’s misgivings, but because she didn’t want to have to start examining her feelings about him too closely. Deep down, she knew full well if he was an on-fire believer—No. I’m not going there. This is about God and His relationship with Nathan. I’m not in the picture. I’m not. Well, okay, so I am—but just a little bit.

  Fifteen

  “You want me to what?” Vanessa stopped dead in her tracks on the aisle between the birdseed and kitty litter. Her hand wrapped around the cordless phone receiver more tightly. Amber stood patiently at her side, oblivious to the ridiculous suggestion Nathan had just made.

  “Jeff mentioned it the other day at lunch—the tide pools. Why are you sounding so surprised?”

  “I’m not exactly surprised you asked, but—”

  “You’re off on Monday, and I’m at a point in my projects that I can take a day off too. Jeff’s school booked a student-free day for the teachers, so he won’t miss any class.”

  “So far, I’m fine with that—”

  “You also said Amber is allowed there,” he tempted without taking a breath, “so that’s not a hitch.”

  Vanessa marveled at his delivery. He’d reasoned out all of the contingencies and her possible objections and delivered his sales pitch as smoothly as he banged a nail into place with a hammer. She grimaced. He’d failed to take one major point into account.

  “C’mon, Van. Whadda ya say?”

  Vanessa stuffed an outdated tablet of rebate coupons in the trash can under the counter. “You were doing fine until you started discussing high and low tides.”

  “You have to get there right as the tide is going out so you can see the best assortment of all of the sea life. Those first hours are awesome!”

  “I have to be awake so I can see.” She wiped off the counter and headed toward the kittens’ cage. She’d sold all but two of them, and they looked like they could both use some attention. “I couldn’t pry my eyes open at 6:43 if you dropped a python on me.”

  Nathan chuckled.

  “I don’t really even think,” she mused as she dangled a feather teaser toy at one of the fluff balls, “the world is alive yet at that hour.”

  “It is. I assure you, it is.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed at his impatient snort as well as at the kittens’ antics. “I’m not about to actually discover that for myself.”

  “You already have. When you bailed me out that night, Jeff had you up by six-thirty.”

  “Boy, oh, boy. I do a guy a favor, and he tosses it right back in my face.”

  “It’s a good cause. Think about how disappointed Jeff was when we didn’t spot any whales when we went whale watching. A trip to the tide pools will help make up for it.”

  “Nathan, you already took him.”

  “But you weren’t there.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a safe bet that I’m going to be a no-show for anything that requires me to crawl out of bed before sunrise. My alarm clock and I have an ironclad agreement: It doesn’t wake me up before 7:23, and I keep it plugged in.”

  “7:23?”

  “And not a second sooner. I have a routine all worked out so I can stay in bed until the very last minute.” She tossed a jingly bell in for the kittens and fastened the cage’s catch. “I told you I’m a night owl.”

  “You’re not exaggerating at all?”

  “Okay, I confess—Val dragged me out of bed and poured coffee into me so I’d make seven-thirty classes in high school and college.”

  “So you can get up and function.”

  “Not really. She and I are polar opposites—she’s a lark, and I’m an owl. It’s probably one of the reasons she got As and I didn’t in all of those crack-of-dawn classes. I was just sleepwalking with a commuter mug in my hand.”

  “Ah ha!” His baritone laughter rippled over the phone line. “I’ve discovered your weakness. Jeff and I will bring a giant mug of coffee for you.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “No? Jeff will be so disappointed, Van. He really wanted you and Amber to go with us.”

  “Life is made up of all sorts of little disappointments.” If anything, Nathan sounded rather downhearted himself. She couldn’t tamp down her smile, even though he couldn’t see her. “Chocolate has caffeine, you know.”

  “You’d eat chocolate at six in the morning?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, if I’m breathing, it’s a good time to eat chocolate. I’m a firm believer in eating my vegetables, and cocoa is a bean.”

  Nathan spluttered for a moment, then recovered wryly, “I suppose that is an example of the kind of stuff you, ah, ‘learned’ in one of those early morning science classes.”

  “The benefits of a good education.” She laughed. “I probably ought to set a good example for Jeff, though. I’ll settle for hot cocoa.”

  “Great! We’ll pick you up at six on Monday.”

  “Six-fifteen.” After she hung up, Vanessa put the phone back on the base and folded her arms akimbo. “That man missed his calling in life. He should have gone into retail sales where he’d get a hefty commission. He’d be rolling in the dough in less than a month.”

  Amber looked up at her as if she understood and agreed with every last word.

  “Come on, Girl. We have work to do.” Amber stood and followed along as Vanessa went along the aisle with all of her fish tanks. She sprinkled food along the surface of the water and watched as the fish tumbled about in the water like colorful sprinkles in a kaleidoscope.

  When she and Val had worked here when they were in college, she’d hated cleaning out the fish tanks. It was a slimy, messy, smelly job. Her boss really liked fish, though. Pete would stand and admire the nearly translucent fins, the way the colors went iridescent, and the grace with which the fish cruised through the tanks. He’d actually had a second aisle of exotics. She’d gotten accustomed to caring for them.

  All along, she’d thought to go into veterinary medicine—well, until she’d gotten into anatomy and physiology. She’d sat in the corner of the lab and tried to force herself to participate, but she couldn’t dissect the cat. It looked just like Elvira, the sleek black cat she and Val had for several years. A
s a compromise, she’d done her “dissection” on a computer instead. When she went to turn in all of the necessary pages, Dr. Bainbridge was visiting her professor.

  Her professor made a disparaging comment, but Dr. Bainbridge came to her defense. He’d been the family vet for Elvira; the poodle, Fluff; and later her first guide puppy, Thane. He’d gently suggested she was excellent at caring for healthy animals—perhaps she ought to think about running a pet store or kennel instead of going into veterinary medicine. He’d even put in a good word with Pete at the pet store, who promptly hired both Van and Val.

  Val had enjoyed running the register, pricing things, and keeping the books. Van, on the other hand, had gone wild over the animals. She’d groomed them, played with them, kept the pens and cages spotless, and found tremendous satisfaction in helping customers find the perfect pet.

  Pete had often remarked his business took off once the twins worked there. He chalked it up to their beauty. Van teased it was because Val finally straightened out his books so he could keep track of his funds. Val declared it was due to Vanessa’s knack for selling not only the pet, but all of the necessary start-up gear. Whatever the truth, the job had paid for the rest of their schooling, and Pete had happily set their work schedules around the hours they needed off for classes.

  Pete had waited until Van was almost ready to graduate before he told her he was thinking of selling his pet shop. Just the year before, Grandma had passed on and left a sizable legacy to her and Val. Val used her share to buy the condo. Van prayed and felt the Lord was opening doors. . . .

  But not fish tanks.

  She’d bought the store, renamed it, and promptly sold off half of the stock of fish. Now, she had five shiny tanks full of freshwater fish. Adding more puppies, dog chow, and gear made the store far more profitable—and she didn’t have to clean as many tanks.

  Nonetheless, the goldfish tank qualified as essential equipment. She often donated coupons to schools and the church to give to children for a free goldfish. Frequently those children came back to get another fish, or their parents bought inexpensive little aquarium accessories. When that family felt ready to get a different pet, they frequently came back to Whiskers, Wings, and Wags because they were familiar with it. Vanessa smiled to herself. Nathan and Jeff were the record holders for the shortest turnaround time.

  Van polished a few fingerprints off the front of the last glass-fronted tank and watched the fish dart around. No doubt Jeff would want to know why she didn’t stock sea urchins, sea stars, and hermit crabs. Under her breath, she murmured, “Nathan, your kid is as cute as you are.”

  ❧

  Sunday morning, Nathan set out cereal and grabbed a banana for Jeff. It was the last one—good thing too. It had reached the eat-now-or-toss-it stage. They needed to do some grocery shopping. Nathan would rather haggle with a city inspector over a building variance than walk the aisles of the grocery store. Jeff always wanted to buy all the junk food he’d seen advertised. Invariably, Nathan would skip a row or two just to get out of the place faster, only to stand at the register and remember something he needed and hadn’t seen.

  There were times when he thought about asking Consuelo if she’d take on the grocery shopping and cook suppers, but that went against one of the lessons he wanted to teach Jeff. A man could get some help with a few things—even delegate—but overall it was important to be capable of coping with issues. Someday his son would have to face life on his own. Nathan knew he needed to equip Jeff with skills like shopping and, well, basic stuff like opening cans and nuking frozen junk in a microwave.

  He took a swig from his mug and made a wry face. The aroma barely qualified as coffee, and the taste didn’t. He’d used the last few spoons of grounds out of the bottom of the can to make this pot. He scribbled “coffee” on the shopping list and underlined it.

  “Sport, turn off those cartoons and come eat. We’ve got stuff to do today.”

  “We do?” Jeff had been lying on the floor next to Lick, watching TV. He stood and pushed the off button.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna hop in the shower. I already poured milk on your cereal, so it’ll get mushy if you don’t eat it right away.”

  Nathan walked up the stairs and climbed into the shower. As he scrubbed, he made a mental list of other things he should have put on the grocery list and forgotten. He’d yanked up his jeans when Jeff traipsed in, covered from neck to toes with mud. “What happened to you?”

  “Lick wanted out. You told me to be sure to let him out right away any time he wanted to go so he wouldn’t have any accidents.”

  “I fenced off the dirt in the backyard, though.” As he spoke, Nathan stripped Jeff out of his clothes and shoved him into the shower.

  Jeff’s scrawny little chest puffed out with pride. “Lick wanted to go out the front door.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “He was really good, Dad. He did his business, and when he started to run away, I called ‘Come!’ to him, just like Van told me to. He turned around and came right away.”

  “Let me guess: The living room is as muddy as you are.”

  “Nope.” His grin took on a decidedly cocky flair. “I helped Lick wipe off his paws on the doormat.”

  “Judging from your clothes, he thought you were the doormat. Clean all of that off.”

  As his son showered, Nathan finished dressing and tossed the muddy clothes into his hamper. Consuelo did laundry—a chore for which he happily paid her extra. She’d definitely earn her money with that load. Nathan knew she wouldn’t bat an eye at it. The clothes he wore to construction sites often came back equally gritty.

  Thank God for Consuelo.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been thankful to the Lord. In this case, he had to confess, it was a heartfelt emotion. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it through the last five years.

  “Dad?”

  “What, Sport?”

  “It’s Sunday, right?”

  “Yep.” He globbed a dab of toothpaste on his brush, started to work on his molars, and froze. He caught sight of Jeff in the bathroom mirror. His son had pulled back the shower curtain and looked at him with hope shining in his big brown eyes.

  “Can I go to Sunday school?”

  Slowly Nathan pulled the toothbrush from his mouth. He spat in the sink, then turned around. “You already went to Sunday school last week.”

  “Unh-huh. It was fun.”

  “Why do the same thing again?” He hoped he sounded casual. This wasn’t in his plan. He’d thought it would be a one-shot deal, then Jeff would latch onto some other activity. Normally, he grew distracted or bored and moved on to a new thing.

  “We’re going to the tide pools again. You told me we’d see different creatures. The Sunday school teacher told me they hear a new story every week, so it’ll be different there too.”

  Miscalculated on that score, Adams. Now what’re you gonna do?

  “Listen, Sport—I thought maybe we’d go out for—”

  “Lunch with Vanessa and her family again? Yippee!” Jeff disappeared behind the shower curtain.

  Nathan turned back to the sink and ordered, “Wash behind your ears.” He looked at his reflection. A thin line of toothpaste outlined the center of his lower lip. Deep, harsh grooves bracketed his mouth. What have I gotten myself into?

  Sixteen

  Nathan sat in the sanctuary and thumbed the edge of the bulletin. Jeff was so excited about going to Sunday school, he’d gotten ready in record time, and they’d arrived a bit early. Nathan sat in the same pew he’d occupied last week. He hoped Van wouldn’t be in the choir today. She could sit next to him and make it so he didn’t feel quite so lonely or out of place.

  Last week, the organ music made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Today, the softly played hymn flowed over his nerves. It fit his mood like his favorite hammer just kind of fit in his hand when he was working on a project around the house.

&
nbsp; The bulletin featured the morning’s hymns and Scripture, then had another segment, “Looking Forward.” It listed all the upcoming activities and events. He smiled as he noticed the last ball game of the season was listed. A plea for tools and willing hands for building a church in Mexico piqued his interest a little. What am I thinking? I didn’t even want to go to church. Why would I get involved in a project like that? He swiftly turned the bulletin over.

  Looking Around mentioned a birth, a wedding, and the names of those who were or had been in the hospital. Fair enough. It was nice to see this place really functioned like a cohesive church family—really caring for its own.

  There was one last little section Looking Back. It simply asked, “How was your walk this week?”

  Nathan drew in a sharp breath. He set aside the bulletin and wished he hadn’t read those words. How was my walk? My walk? God, I’m the walking wounded. He bowed his head in weariness. This week. The last two words of the question echoed in his mind. This week? This week had gone better than. . .well, than since he’d torn out of church five years ago. The realization stopped him cold. It really had been a better week. Less empty. Not the same struggle. But why? What had made the difference?

  “Nice to see you here, Adams.”

  Nathan looked to the side and stood at once. He shook hands with Bill Zobel and glanced down at Amber. “What happened? You’re missing all but one of your gals.”

  “Ellen volunteers in the nursery once a month. Val is working this weekend. Someone at work is sick, so she’s been putting in a lot of extra days and overtime.”

  “That’s a bummer.” He tried to sound casual and fought the urge to look around. “What about Vanessa?”

  “She’ll be here in a minute. She made cupcakes for a bake sale, and I’d rather baby-sit Amber than carry a tray of food. I’d either accidentally dump it on someone or eat half of them before I reached the kitchen.”

  “You have more self-control than I do, because I’ve tasted her cupcakes. I’d have eaten all of them.” The small talk wasn’t exactly difficult, but Nathan knew he didn’t measure up to Bill’s dreams for his daughter’s future husband. Granted, Bill behaved more than just cordially. Vanessa must have inherited her friendly, outgoing nature from him. Even so, there was a world of difference between accepting someone as a friend and welcoming him as the man who was dating your daughter.