Читать книгу Ever Faithful - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 10

Paul paused in the doorway of the kitchen. He had been on his way outside, but the sight of his mother at the sink stopped him. The morning sun shone on her short gray hair, neatly combed. The sleeves of her cream-colored jersey were pushed past her elbows and black stirrup pants cinched bare feet.

“Why don’t you grab a towel and pitch in?” she said when she caught his reflection in the window in front of her.

“I haven’t done dishes in years. When are you going to get a dishwasher?” Paul yawned as he ambled into the kitchen. He leaned over to plant a kiss on his mother’s cheek. He grimaced at the dishes piled high on the counter, hooked a stool with his foot and dropped onto it. “I thought we did all the dishes last night.”

Elizabeth shrugged, rinsed off a cup and set it on the drain tray. “I found these downstairs in the spare room.”

“Well it wasn’t us. Dad, Derk and I were playing pool with Amy’s fiancé most of the time.” Paul rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and tugged the dish towel off his mother’s shoulder.

“And what did you think of Amy’s Tim?”

“Seems okay,” Paul replied, keeping his tone non committal. “I have a hard time seeing him living on the ranch like he says he will.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Why?”

“C’mon, Mom. Did you see what he wore last night?” Paul stuffed the tea towel in a glass and twisted it. “Looked like he was auditioning for a spot on a soap opera.”

“Actually he was dressed a lot like you.”

“This is the way to dress,” he said. “Old, faded jeans.” He tugged on the front of his shirt. “Old faded shirt. When in the country…”

“And it was their engagement party. Of course he’d be dressed nicely.”

Paul heard the tone of censure in his mother’s voice and it made him feel like a sulky teenager. But he pressed on. “That may be, but I still can’t imagine him living at Danyluks’.”

“He talks about doing it, so your imagination doesn’t count for much.” Elizabeth eased another batch of dishes in the sink.

“I hope he likes driving.” Paul commented as he pulled another dish off the tray. He wondered why he cared how Tim felt about Amy and the ranch. I could never stop being a big brother, he thought, smiling. “When are they getting married?”

“Amy hasn’t mentioned a specific date, although I think Tim would like it to be soon.” Elizabeth glanced at him over her shoulder. “She wants to get some money together and get the house fixed up before they move in. She also wants to get a trailer on the yard for Rick and Judd.”

“That would be a good idea. I can’t imagine four people living in that house.” Paul shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like she’s in any rush, though.”

“I think she’d like to get married soon, but her pride is preventing that. Pride and a lot of work. Rick’s a big help, but she still takes on most of the responsibility herself. I just wish she’d quit her job.”

“She still working at that accountant’s office?”

“She worked full-time up until four years ago—when Judd started getting worse. Now she just works part-time at the grocery store and tries to run the ranch on her days off.”

“What’s wrong with Judd?”

Elizabeth shrugged rinsing the cup in her hand. “He’s become much quieter. He used to be so stubborn and ornery, but not lately. Amy’s been pushing him to go to a doctor, but he refuses.”

“I’m surprised Amy still manages to keep up her relationship with Tim.”

“She and Tim spend many dates at home with Judd, keeping him entertained.” Elizabeth set the last of the cups on the drain tray and dried her hands.

“Doesn’t sound like such a bad way to spend a night.” Paul rolled down his sleeves as he thought of all the running around he and Stacy did when they found time to spend together. Supper out, the theater, opera, the occasional movie. An evening at home sounded appealing. “But you haven’t told me yet what you think of Amy’s Tim,” Paul teased as he finished drying the cups.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I like him very much. He’s a sincere Christian, he has a good job and is well liked in the community. He’s tall, good looking…”

“Sounds like you’re talking about Dad’s prize bull.”

“Don’t be flip,” Elizabeth admonished. “He’s worked at the bank for the past two years, so hasn’t really been around that long.”

“Long enough to make a move on Amy and propose to her.”

“Paul,” she warned.

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I didn’t know he meant that much to you, as well.”

Elizabeth shot him a level look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous.”

Paul looked back at her, holding her gaze. “I guess I just have to get used to the idea that little Amy Danyluk is old enough to get married.”

“She hasn’t been ‘little Amy Danyluk’ for a long time now.”

“She hasn’t been chasing me around for a while, either.”

“Aha, you are jealous,” his mother cried, laughing at him.

Paul flicked the towel at her in reply. “I’ll be able to dance at her wedding, Mom.”

Elizabeth, her face suddenly thoughtful, drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds out.

“Where are you?” Paul asked, setting a stack of plates in the cupboard.

“Being a mother. Thinking about weddings.” She looked up at Paul, her expression hopeful. “I guess I’m wondering if Dad and I will ever throw an engagement party for you.”

Paul sighed and leaned back against the counter, wrapping and unwrapping the damp towel around his hands. “Maybe. Someday,” he said with a noncommittal shrug.

“You’ve been saying that for the past three girlfriends.” Elizabeth rescued the towel and hung it on the rack by the stove.

Paul blew out his breath and crossed his arms. He thought her lack of questions last night was due to a change in tactics, but he should have known she would corner him sooner or later. “I don’t think marriage always has to come up when two people are dating.”

“Then why are they dating?”

“Companionship, friendship…” The words sounded lame to him.

“Friends and companions you go fishing with. Girlfriends you kiss when you think your mother isn’t looking.” Elizabeth tapped him on the chest as she passed him.

Paul had to remind himself that he was almost thirty and hadn’t needed to answer to his mother for close to twelve years. “Stacy and I understand each other…”

“I would hope so, you both speak English,” his mother said with a laugh, leaning back against the counter beside him. “I know you’re serious about her, this is the first girlfriend you’ve brought here for longer than a day.”

Paul tapped his fingers against his arm, as he sought words to explain his and Stacy’s relationship. “I want her to see where I came from, what made me who I am.”

“And what did?”

Paul frowned.

“Made you who you are,” his mother explained.

He looked ahead at the neat table in the large kitchen, now pushed against the wall. Once it had been stretched out, surrounded with chairs, now only four chairs were tucked under it. He remembered many family meals around the table, times of sharing and Bible reading and prayer. How many times had he sat at this same table and looked out the window wishing he was anywhere else but here, in this kitchen?

“I’m not even sure who I am these days, Mom,” he replied softly. “I’m making good money. I have lots of stuff. The business is even more successful than I thought it would be. I always thought I could quit when I got to the point I wanted to, but I just keep on going and going. It doesn’t really stop.”

“The toughest thing about success is that you must remain being a success,” his mother quoted. “You don’t quit. It lures you on out of necessity or out of a desire to challenge yourself.”

Paul laughed shortly. “You’re right.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, studying the toes of his socks. “The only problem is each time I finish something, each time I check my bank balance, it still feels empty. I work and look forward to what I can buy with what I make, but by the time I open what I’ve bought, or park it, or moor it or whatever, it still isn’t really what I wanted.” He frowned, hearing his thoughts spoken out loud for the first time in years. Any girlfriend he had didn’t understand. They usually liked the fancy condo, the fast cars, dining out in fancy restaurants, the boat, the ski trips to Whistler-Blackcomb. Any of his friends openly envied his success. None of them would understand that he sought more and he hadn’t found it in spending or experiencing.

“What you’ve wanted all your life isn’t really what you need.”

Paul nodded. “I was just thinking that.” He lifted his head catching his mother’s concerned look. “Did you know how badly I wanted to get away from here? Did you know how dissatisfied I was once, with this life-style? With going to church? With living with people you’ve grown up with?”

“We knew.” Elizabeth reached over and rubbed his arm. “We didn’t like it, but we had to let go. Just like we had to let go of the other boys. Doesn’t mean we have loved you any less or prayed for you any less. Tyrell, Derk, they’ve each had to make their own choices, as well.”

“At least Derk is still close by.”

Elizabeth nodded. “He comes up pretty regularly. Helps out when he can. I think he’d like to start up his own place. If not here, then somewhere in the Cariboo. We never planned on building up this place for our children to take over. Your father and I wanted each of you to figure out for yourself what you wanted.”

Paul pushed himself away from the counter, a wry grin curving his lips. “Trouble is, Mom, I still don’t know.” He had tried to articulate to his mother the hunger that clutched him these days, a desire for more than he had. He felt as if he expended a lot of energy and received nothing for it in return. Hence the trip back home, to his family, to his spiritual roots.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here.”

“I guess it’s a beginning,” he admitted.

Elizabeth pushed herself away from the counter and, reaching up, pulled his head down to hers. She pressed a kiss on his cheek and smiled up at him with eyes as blue as his own. “I just want you to remember that Dad and I love you, but more important, God loves you.”

“I know that, Mom,” he whispered, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I just need some space and time.”

“You’ve come to the right place for that.”

Elizabeth hugged him back, and it felt so good.

The shrill ring of the phone broke the peace of the moment. Elizabeth pulled away and answered it. Paul leaned back again, a feeling of deep love for his mother filling him.

“Is Stacy up yet?” Elizabeth pressed the mouthpiece against her chest and turned to Paul. “It’s some fellow named Jonathan. Says it’s urgent.” Elizabeth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Says the computer’s down.”

“I’m sure she is,” he replied, feeling a twinge of annoyance with Stacy for giving her workers the ranch’s number. They had promised each other an uninterrupted week at the ranch and whatever happened in Vancouver would be handled by their co-workers.

He ran upstairs and tapped on Stacy’s door. “Are you up?”

“Come on in,” Stacy called out.

Paul stepped into the brightly lit room, and his heart sank at the sight of his girlfriend sitting on the bed with papers scattered around her. He walked to her side and, picking up a file folder, playfully tapped her on the head.

“I thought we were on holidays?”

“Well—” she raised her eyebrows, flashing him a grin “—I was lying in bed this morning, trying to find a way to make one of my customer’s program work more efficiently and had an inspiration.”

“Jonathan will be glad to hear that.”

“What do you mean?” Stacy asked, reaching for a paper covered with scribbling.

“He’s on the phone.”

“Now?”

“As we speak.” Paul pushed some papers away and sat down on the bed.

“Why didn’t you say so right away?” Stacy jumped up, but Paul caught her hand.

“Because I thought this holiday was to be a break for both of us. I wanted to take you riding this morning without your mind on the office back in the city.” Paul ran his finger over her well-manicured ones, marveling at their softness. “I’m hoping you’ll tell him to take a hike.”

Stacy looked down at him, smiling lightly. Bending over, she brushed a kiss over his forehead then straightened. “A hike for Jonathan might be a bit of a stretch. He’s not the athletic type. I’m sure it’s some little problem I can fix over the phone.”

Paul smiled and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, watching her trim figure as she left, appreciating how she looked in jeans as opposed to Ungaro or Ralph Lauren.

He dropped his head against the wall, as he thought of his conversation with his mother a few moments ago. He liked Stacy, maybe even loved her. They had a lot of fun together. She laughed at his terrible jokes and enjoyed the same movies and music. She gave him business ideas and helped him with his computers, something he hated working with.

She was the first girl he had gone out with that didn’t bore him or talk about trivial things. He smiled as he remembered many deep discussions over economics and politics. Together they had saved British Columbia, Canada and North America many times.

He straightened, wondering what was taking her so long to return. He went downstairs to find her.

She was pacing around the kitchen, her hand worrying the phone cord, the receiver pressed against her head. She stopped, frowning at the floor. “It’s so hard to say from over here. Sounds like some hacker got past their firewall. No I can’t get on line from here. Doesn’t sound like it would help anyhow. Can’t you figure out what happened?” Stacy rolled her eyes and crossed the room once more, tethered by the telephone cord, fairly emanating frustration. “Okay, okay. I get the message. I’ll come.” She nodded impatiently. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” With an angry click, she hung up the phone, turning to Paul. Her expression was apologetic. “I have to go back….”

“Stacy, don’t go. Jonathan knew for the past month that you were leaving this week. Surely they can handle this small crisis.” Paul walked across the room and caught her by the shoulders. “This is the only holiday you’ve taken for a long time.”

Stacy nodded. “I know all that, Paul, but I won’t be able to relax knowing a customer’s system is down. It’s not really a small crisis. We just started up, and we can’t afford to lose any business. I can’t leave customers waiting.”

“What about a boyfriend?” Paul stroked her hair, his tone light, but his frustration just below the surface.

“I guess I’m hoping he’ll understand.” Stacy smiled up at him, but Paul wouldn’t be cajoled.

For the past months he had eagerly anticipated showing Stacy the place where he grew up, the hills he wandered through as a child. He wanted to show her that part of himself. He had planned riding trips, picnics and long, leisurely drives. Now, with one phone call from Vancouver, it all disintegrated.

“Phone someone else to take care of it,” he said, his voice clipped, hands resting on his hips.

“Paul, I’m the one who set up the system. I’m responsible for fixing the glitch.” Stacy reached up and cupped his face with her hands. “I know how much you’ve looked forward to this. I’ll try to come back as soon as it’s fixed. You’re going to be here another couple of weeks, aren’t you?”

Paul couldn’t help it. He pulled away. It had taken her months to arrange this particular holiday. He knew once she was back in the office another crisis would keep her there, then another and another.

Stacy tilted her head, taking a step towards him. “Paul please don’t be like this. If it was Bruce who needed help, wouldn’t you go?”

Paul looked down at her, trying to imagine the reverse situation and he knew he would have stayed. “When do you want to leave?” was all he said.

Stacy smiled her thanks. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Paul nodded and watched as she turned and ran back up the stairs to her bedroom. He glanced at his mother who frowned at the egg carton she had pulled out.

“I guess you won’t be here for breakfast.”

Paul shook his head. “We’ll probably grab something along the way. Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter, Paul. I was only going to make some bacon and eggs.”

“With homemade bread and farm-fresh eggs.” Paul sighed, thinking about the rubber food they would pick up from a drive-through. “I’ll have to wait for that until tomorrow.”

“You’re coming back aren’t you?”

Paul winked at his mother. “I’m only going to be in Vancouver long enough to drop Stacy off, kiss her goodbye and head back here.”

He waited outside, leaning against his car. His eyes drifted over the hills, appreciating the emptiness of the country, the space that let you stretch your arms out. This was real, solid.

Stacy had tried to get him excited about staring at a computer screen, sending e-mail around the world with a click of a button, looking at things that moved on the screen, but he never picked up on her enthusiasm. He preferred dealing with people face-to-face. Cell phones, pagers, intercoms and fax machines were bad enough.

He sighed as he thought of the long drive down the Coquihalla and the even worse one through the oppressive bumper-to-bumper traffic of the heavily populated Fraser Valley. If he hurried he could be back here by late evening.

Stacy was even better than her word, and ten minutes later he stowed her elegant luggage in the trunk of the car. He started the engine while Stacy bid his mother a hurried goodbye and got in. The door barely clicked shut when Paul took off in a cloud of gravel and dust, disregarding the paint job of his car.

His impatience translated into speed and he barreled recklessly down the road, slowing only momentarily for an old one-ton truck lumbering down the road, a dilapidated plywood stock box on the back. He swerved around it, fishtailed, corrected and left it behind.

“I do want to get home in one piece, Paul,” Stacy joked, glancing over her shoulder at the truck that shrank by the second.

Paul tried to stifle his impatience with his girlfriend, her job and the life-style that demanded constant work to maintain. With a self-deprecating shake of his head, he glanced at the speedometer and slowed down.

He flicked on the radio, hitting the CD player. Music instead of conversation filled the silence.

Stacy glanced at him, shrugged and pulled out her briefcase.

Paul knew he should try to be more communicative, but it would mean ignoring all that had passed between them, and he wasn’t ready to do that.

It was going to be a long drive, but hopefully a peaceful return trip.

Amy clenched the steering wheel of the truck, her heart pounding. The fancy car flashed past her out of nowhere. Though it was almost obscured by the cloud of dust, it wasn’t hard to identify the vehicle.

Paul Henderson’s. Heading back home already.

Amy didn’t understand her own disappointment. It shouldn’t matter to her that he had left four days and two weeks earlier than planned. It was typical of Paul. Even Elizabeth had wondered if he could stay away from Vancouver for three weeks.

But she certainly hadn’t expected his visit would be this protracted.

The old truck rocked as Sandover threw his weight over, trying to break free of the rope that tied his head to the front of the truck’s box. Not for the first time Amy wished they had a stock trailer to move their horses around instead of this cumbersome one-ton truck with its home-made box. Two horses fit easily in it, but the truck had no shocks, and each bump in the road knocked the horses around which, in turn, rocked the truck.

She turned her attention to the road, preferring not to think about the rope that was the only thing keeping Sandover in a box with no back.

She had enough on her mind without having to cede any head space to this wild horse. In a couple of weeks the heifers Rick bought would come, and she and Rick needed to get the loading chutes and corrals ready. Fortunately she had enough materials. All she needed now was for her shoulder to heal quickly. A quick glance at her watch showed her that she was right on schedule. She had enough time to drop Sandover off at the auction market and get to work.

Another quick glance over her shoulder proved that Sandover had finally settled down. Amy relived the moment in the Hendersons’ yard. It had scared her, and she realized she didn’t need an animal around that was just going to cause trouble. She had to be ruthless.

The trip to town went peacefully. Amy dropped him off at the auction mart, then hurried back to the truck and her job at the grocery store.