Читать книгу Tender Love - Irene Brand - Страница 9

Before she went to bed, Alice checked out the kitchen. While the equipment was adequate, the food supply was short, and she’d need to go to the grocery store before she did much cooking. Alice located several boxes of cold cereal, some fruit bars and a box of oatmeal that hadn’t been opened. There was plenty of milk and orange juice, and a small can of coffee in the refrigerator. Although an expensive coffeemaker sat on the cabinet top, a jar of instant coffee on the table indicated that Mark didn’t take time to fresh perk his coffee.

Her sleep was sporadic, and since the master bedroom was over the enclosed porch, Alice heard Mark’s footsteps when he got up at six o’clock. She dressed in denim shorts and a yellow knit shirt and hurried into the kitchen. She prepared the coffeemaker, sprinkled oatmeal in a pan of boiling water, poured a glass of orange juice, and placed a plate and cup on the table. Two slices of bread were waiting in the toaster when Mark came into the kitchen.

He was dumbfounded!

“Why, Alice! I don’t expect you to wait on me. I’ve always gotten my own breakfast.”

“I was awake, and I might as well be doing something. I’ve cooked oatmeal. Would you like to have eggs with your toast?”

He sat at the table awkwardly, seemingly at a loss to know how to deal with the situation. “The oatmeal and toast will be fine. I don’t eat a heavy breakfast.”

Alice lowered the bread into the toaster, dipped up a serving of the steaming oatmeal, sprinkled a handful of raisins on it, and set the bowl in front of Mark. She placed the milk container beside his plate. “Sugar and cream for your coffee?”

“No, I drink it black. Won’t you eat with me?”

“I’ll have a cup of coffee now, but I’ll wait to eat with the children. Do you mind if I set up a schedule for meals?”

“Make any schedule you like. I’ve told both of them to do what you say.”

“What time do you get home in the evening?”

“Usually between five and six—but I sometimes have to stay late with a client.”

“Shall we schedule dinner for six o’clock? If you’re not here by then, we’ll go ahead and eat.”

“I’ll do my best to be here as much as possible. I need that time with my family. And I’ll take care of them at night, so you can have every evening free if you want to go out.”

The rest of the week was an endurance test in patience for Alice. On Monday morning when she tried to get the children out of bed at half-past eight, Kristin came down reluctantly, but Eddie said he didn’t want any breakfast. About ten o’clock, she heard a bell ringing, and Kristin informed her that Eddie rang the bell when he wanted something. She climbed the stairs dutifully, and when she entered his room, he said, “I’m hungry, Alice.”

She looked at her watch and said, “It’ll be two hours before lunch. I’ll call you when it’s ready. In the meantime, perhaps you should straighten up your bed and pick up some of these things on the floor. I’m going shopping this afternoon, and I want you and Kristin to go with me.”

“I want something to eat now.”

“Eddie, your daddy said it was all right to have our meals at a regular time. I’ll have lots to do to keep your home comfortable, and I can’t be serving food all day. You’ll soon get used to eating earlier in the morning.”

Eddie closed his eyes, drooped forlornly, and he absolutely refused to get out of his chair and tidy the room, but Alice noticed that when noon came, he hungrily ate his grilled cheese sandwich and apple, and asked for a second glass of milk.

At the end of the first few days, Alice’s patience was stretched to the breaking point—the children didn’t like the food she cooked, they wanted to watch television rather than play outdoors, and they hadn’t been taught to look after their own rooms. Alice hesitated to push Eddie too much, until she’d spoken with Eddie’s pediatrician. After she heard Dr. Zane’s blunt assessment, Alice knew for Eddie’s sake, she had to force him to change his life-style.

“I’ve told Mark,” Dr. Zane said, “to quit mollycoddling that boy. In earlier years, he did have to take it easy, but the surgeries have corrected his heart problem, and he needs to be more active. To sit in his room and watch cartoons on TV is more detrimental to his health than if he starts playing Little League ball. Do what you can to snap him out of his lethargy, and I’ll support you.”

At the end of the first week, Alice could note some progress. They ate meals on schedule, and while Alice did furnish some of their usual snacks, the children were also eating more vegetables and fruits. When she weeded the flower beds, she kept Kristin and Eddie beside her and was gratified when they pulled a few weeds and happily reported to their father what they’d done. Eddie still expected Kristin or Alice to come running when he rang his bell, and when he begged her piteously to do what he wanted, his blue eyes, so much like his father’s, beseeching and hurting, Alice found it hard to deny him anything. Although she wanted to bestow tender love on the boy, she knew she must occasionally practice tough love.

Fortunately, Gran Watson supported Alice. “These children have needed a firm hand for a long time. After Clarice became ill, she couldn’t do anything, and Mark had too much on his mind to discipline his children. When they complain to me, I’ll turn a deaf ear,” and she added with a whimsical little laugh that Alice found endearing, “I can’t hear very well anyway, so it’s easy enough.” Gran was no trouble to Alice, for she cared for her own needs and kept her room in order, and she was overly complimentary of Alice’s cooking.

“I used to be a good cook,” she said, “but I’d lived alone for fifteen years before I came here, so I was out of the habit of cooking, and with my handicap, I haven’t been up to preparing a good meal. Mark doesn’t have time to cook, even if he knew how, which he doesn’t. We’ve been existing, and very little more.”

At night, Alice went to her room as soon as she straightened up the kitchen after dinner, closed the door, and left Mark alone with his family. When Saturday came, she was ready for a break, and after eating breakfast with Mark, she left for the day. By previous appointment, she went to Betty’s house.

“You look a little harried,” was Betty’s first comment.

“It’s been a hard week,” Alice said with a laugh, as she leaned back in a lounger and dropped her shoes to the floor. “But I’ve made a difference in their lives, and that was my goal in the first place. After a year of drifting, it’s challenging to be needed again.”

When Betty heard all that she’d done during the week, she threw up her hands in dismay.

“Alice! You’re supposed to be a nanny—not chief cook and bottle washer. You’ll kill yourself with such a schedule.”

“If you were working there, you’d do the same things I’m doing. Everywhere I look, there’s something important to do. My main concern right now is how to spend the money to make their lives more comfortable without Mark learning about it. Although his back is against the wall financially, I don’t believe he’ll readily accept help from a stranger.”

“What kind of financial help do you have in mind?”

“Nothing major. On my first trip to the grocery store, I spent more than what he’d budgeted for the month. I can get by with that, and he’ll never know, but Kristin should have some new clothes before she goes to camp. She’s a thin girl, but she’s quite a bit taller than she was last summer, and her jeans are too short.”

“Watch the paper for yard sales, and take her to one of those. You can add a few new outfits, and Mark won’t notice.”

“I also want to have a professional cleaning service come in and clean the whole house. He does have a woman come in for a few hours on Thursday, but she can’t keep up with all the work.”

“A group of our church women has taken house cleaning as a ministry. If the family is able to make a donation, fine. If not, they clean the house free of charge. Talk to Mark about it—he’ll never know how much money you give them.”

“Thanks, Betty—you’ve solved my two biggest problems.”

“Let me warn you, Alice, that Mark Tanner is an intelligent man, and he’s going to realize soon that you aren’t an ordinary nanny. You should tell him before he figures it out for himself.”

“This is only for a month’s trial,” Alice reminded her. “After that, I may tell him.”

“If you stay there three more weeks, Alice, you’ll be hooked, and you know it. I’m your friend, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I feel responsible for you since I’m the one who mentioned the Tanners to you.”

Alice laughed at her. “Hey, I’m a big girl now— I can look after myself.”

Betty’s eyes were skeptical. “I wonder.”

“By the way, who is Ethel Pennington?”

Betty grinned at her. “So you’ve seen her, have you?”

“I can hardly help it. She’s been in and out of the house several days this week, and Wednesday, she brought hamburgers and French fries for Kristin and Eddie at two o’clock in the afternoon. I took charge of the food and told her that we’d have it for dinner—that I’d scheduled regular hours and I didn’t want the children nibbling between meals. She was obviously angry, and Kristin and Eddie weren’t happy about it either, but I won that battle, for so far, Mark is supporting me. Too much of that kind of food isn’t good for Eddie. Dr. Zane said he needs fruits and vegetables.”

“To answer your question—Ethel is a spinster who’s had her eye on Mark for years. She lives a few blocks from the Tanners, and as soon as Clarice got sick, she became the ministering angel. She intends to be the next Mrs. Tanner, and she’s working on Mark through the children.”

“Is Mark interested in her?”

“I doubt it very much, but she isn’t easily discouraged.”

The night before Kristin left for church camp, Mark telephoned that he would be late getting home.

“If you don’t mind, Alice, you can put the children to bed early. I don’t want them staying up until I come home.”

She prepared beef stew, Waldorf salad, and hot rolls for dinner, putting aside enough food for Mark in case he hadn’t eaten before he came home. The children were quieter than usual as they ate, and Kristin merely picked at her food. As Alice cleared the table and filled the dishwasher, the children dogged her steps—she couldn’t get a foot away from either one of them.

After her work was finished, she said, “Your father asked me to send you to bed early, for he didn’t know when he would be home.”

“Oh, Alice, please don’t make us go to bed before Daddy comes,” Kristin begged, and Eddie puckered up as if he would soon burst into tears.

“But he doesn’t know what time he’ll be here, and we leave for camp early in the morning.”

Kristin grabbed her hand, and Eddie tugged on Alice’s jeans. “But I won’t sleep until he comes. When he’s late, we’re always afraid he’s not coming home. Please, don’t send us to bed, Alice. Eddie will cry until he’s sick.”

Like a bolt from the blue, Alice suddenly realized that she’d misjudged the situation in this home. Her whole focus had been to discipline these children, Eddie in particular, and to build up their physical bodies with the right kind of foods and exercise. And while those things were necessary, suddenly she realized that, more than anything else, Kristin and Eddie needed love and security. They’d witnessed their mother’s slow death, and knowing that Mark was all they had left, their fear of losing him was overpowering.

She’d been listening to her head and not her heart. Her conscience smote her, and she put an arm around Kristin and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

“You can wait up for a while anyway. Why don’t you take your baths, get into your pj’s, and we’ll sit in the living room and wait for him? What do you and your father do in the evenings?”

A smile lit Kristin’s face, and Eddie hugged Alice’s legs. “We play games sometimes or sit on the couch and watch television.” She giggled. “We watch the programs, but Daddy sits with his arms around us and goes to sleep most of the time.”

“I should be able to handle that,” Alice said. “Up the stairs with you, then. I’ll help you with your bath-water, Eddie, and I’ll turn down your beds so you’ll be ready when your daddy comes home.”

“Will you tell him we got ready all by ourselves?” Eddie asked.

“If I don’t have to do too many things for you.”

While she waited for them to finish bathing, Alice tried to think of a game that would interest both of them. As soon as Mark helped her set up the computer, she could provide many educational and entertaining programs for them to watch, but that wouldn’t help her tonight.

Deciding there was a difference between spoiling and loving, she started downstairs. “Come down when you’re ready,” she called. She was mixing a pan of fresh apple muffins when they found her in the kitchen.

“I’m going to put these in the oven to bake, and we can have milk and muffins later on.”

“Oh, boy,” Kristin cried. “We’ll like that, won’t we, Eddie?”

He nodded happily and tugged on Alice’s hand. She knelt beside him and smoothed back his wet hair, and he threw his arms around her and kissed her. The caress had a strange effect on Alice, for it lighted an ember in her heart that had never been touched—she had the first glimmering of what a mother’s love entailed. Her voice quavered when she spoke.

“While the muffins bake, let’s play a game my sister and I used to enjoy. We’ll sit here at the table.” On the table, Alice laid a sheet of paper she’d brought from her room. “We’re going to draw creatures. I’ll start first.”

“But Eddie can’t draw,” Kristin said.

“Sure, he can. I’m going to draw the head of a dog, then you, Kristin, can add the body, and Eddie will draw the legs and feet of the dog.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” Kristin agreed. “I make good grades in art.”

“Ah, but there’s a catch to it,” Alice said. “Neither of you can look while I’m drawing the head, and I’ll fold over the top of the paper before I hand it to you. Eddie can’t watch while you’re shaping the body, and you’ll fold over what you’ve done before he draws the feet and legs.”

Kristin frowned. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Let’s try it anyway. Each of us will mark where the next part of the animal is supposed to be drawn. Cover your eyes.”

Alice quickly sketched an outline of what purported to be a poodle, although art wasn’t one of her strong points. She folded the paper so that only the edge of the neck was showing.

“Okay, Kristin, you can look now, but Eddie keeps his eyes covered.”

Kristin screwed up her eyes in concentration as she carefully drew the body of a dalmatian. Watching her, Alice deduced that she did have some artistic talent. When Eddie’s turn came, with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, he outlined four legs that could belong on no other dog except a dachshund.

As she watched Eddie’s tiny fingers painstakingly creating the legs and feet, Kristin smiled broadly, and when he finished and Alice unfolded the paper, Kristin laughed, shouting, “That’s the funniest looking dog I’ve ever seen.”

The head of an aristocratic poodle attached to the spotted, thin body of a dalmatian, supported by four short, sturdy legs was amusing.

Eddie giggled, saying, “But I did make nice legs, didn’t I, Alice?” He jumped up and down on the chair. “I want to draw a bird. Let me draw first this time.”

They’d made three more creatures by the time the muffins were ready, and the two children were more animated than Alice had seen them. She removed the muffins from the pan.

“Do you want to eat a muffin now or wait until they’ve cooled?”

“They smell so good, let’s have one now,” Kristin said, “and maybe we can have some more when Daddy comes home.”

“We need to share with Gran. Eddie, will you take her a muffin while I pour the milk?”

He jumped out of his chair. “I want to show her our pictures, too.” He tucked the images they’d drawn under his arm and took the muffin Alice placed in a plastic bowl. She watched him a bit anxiously for she hadn’t seen Eddie go up or down the stairs by himself, but neither he nor Kristin seemed to realize that his behavior was unusual. She waited with bated breath until he returned to the kitchen, and although his color was heightened and his breathing accelerated, soon after he sat down and started eating his muffin, his complexion and breathing were normal.

“I want to show Daddy the pictures, too,” he said.

“Fine. Help me rinse our glasses and plates, and we can leave them in the sink. We might have another snack with your father when he comes home, if it isn’t too late.”

“But you said we could wait up for him,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that, but if you do get sleepy, I’ll stay upstairs with you until he’s home.”

When they went into the family room, before they turned on the television, Kristin said, “What’s another game you and your sister played?”

“We used to tell progressive stories. One of us would think of a subject and we’d make up a story about it. The first one would talk for a few minutes, then the other one would add on ideas. We’d switch back and forth, changing the story content to fit what the one before had said until we thought the story was finished. They were make-believe stories. Think you could do that?”

“I can do it,” Eddie said, “if Kristin can.”

“I want to start the story,” Kristin insisted.

They settled on the couch with Alice between the two children.

“Natasha was a little girl, and she was afraid of spiders,” Kristin started.

“I don’t like that name—I can’t say it,” Eddie protested.

“Make him listen, Alice,” Kristin said, and turning a stern eye on her brother, she said, “You’re not supposed to say anything until I’ve finished.”

Alice put her arm around Eddie, and he snuggled close. “If you can’t pronounce Natasha, maybe you can say, Tasha.”

“Tasha,” he said experimentally. “I’m going to call her Tasha. Hurry up, Kristin, so I can talk.”

Two stories and an hour later, Alice had learned a lot about her companions. They were both afraid of spiders, they were terrified of the dark, they couldn’t understand why their mother had to die, and they were worried about the future—especially what would happen to them if their father should also die. These revelations disturbed Alice, especially when she knew that Kristin was going to camp tomorrow where she would probably encounter lots of darkness and spiders.

When the second story ended, Eddie said, “Okay—what’re we going to play now?”

Smothering a yawn, Alice said, “How about the ‘take a nap’ game?”

“Hey, Alice, that’s sneaky,” Kristin said. “I bet there isn’t any such game.”

“No, but I’m sleepy. Let’s find a show on television that you like, and you can watch while I take a nap.”

Kristin looked at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock, and we usually aren’t awake this late, so we don’t know what to watch.” Her face twitched nervously as she added, “It’s awful late, I wonder if Daddy is all right.”

“I’m sure he is.” What could she say to calm the fears of these children? “Shall I tell you a story before I take my nap?”

“Is it the kind where we talk, too?” Kristin asked.

“No, this is a Jesus story? You know who Jesus is, don’t you?”

They solemnly nodded their heads.

“Once when Jesus was talking to a group of his friends, he told them they shouldn’t worry about things that they couldn’t change. Some of them were afraid they wouldn’t have enough food to eat, others didn’t think they had enough clothes. And Jesus said that they should trust God to take care of them and not worry about what might happen tomorrow.”

Kristin and Eddie looked at her in mystification, obviously without any understanding of her words.

“Take your daddy, for instance. Let’s say he’s had a flat tire on the way home, and it took some time for him to repair it. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

“I don’t think so,” Kristin said slowly.

“Then why should you worry about it? Or be afraid that something terrible has happened to him? God loves your father, and He’ll look after him.”

“Then why did He let my mommy die?” Eddie whispered, tears glistening in his big blue eyes.

God, I’m getting in over my head. Help!

“Your mommy was very sick, wasn’t she? God took her to be with Him, and she won’t ever be sick again. Would you want her to still be here with you and hurting a lot?”

“No,” Kristin said, “but why didn’t God heal her? We need her more than God does.”

“I don’t have all the answers, but I know this— God could have healed your mother, but why he didn’t, I can’t tell you. We have to trust God to do the right thing, although we can’t always understand why He doesn’t do what we want Him to do.”

“I miss my mommy,” Eddie said, his chin quivering, and Alice’s heart ached for the boy. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, now wet with tears.

“I know you do, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back. So instead of worrying about things you can’t help, why don’t you be the kind of children your mother would want you to be?”

“What would she want us to do?” Kristin wondered.

“Oh, she’d want you to help your daddy and not let him know how sad you are, and try to grow up healthy and strong, and learn a lot of things. Do you think you can do that?”

“Maybe,” Kristin said, but she looked doubtful.

“Let’s learn a Bible verse? There’s one that says, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Could you say that with me and mean it?”

Several times, they repeated in unison, “I will trust and not be afraid.”

When she thought they had the verse committed to memory, Alice said, “Let’s turn on the TV and watch one program. If Mark isn’t home by then, you should go to bed.” When she found a commentary on wild animals that seemed appropriate for the children to watch, she added, “I’m going to take a nap—your father will probably be here by the time the program ends.”

Alice didn’t really intend to go to sleep, but she thought it might induce sleep in her charges. When she awakened groggily, she slitted her eyes, noting that Kristin was lying with her head on Alice’s lap, and that Eddie was snuggled against her, sheltered by her right arm. Her arm was numb, and she supposed that had awakened her until she roused further. Mark stood over them, the remote in his hand, turning off the television.

Alice flushed to have him see her in such close proximity to his family, and she sat up, her movement awakening Kristin and Eddie.

“Daddy!” Kristin cried. “You did come home. We worried about you until Alice taught us a verse, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Then all of us went to sleep.”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Eddie wiggled away from Alice and ran to Mark. He clutched the pictures they’d drawn. “Look, Daddy—we’ve been drawing pictures.”

“And telling stories,” Kristin interrupted him. She took Mark’s hand. “Come in the kitchen. Alice made apple muffins, and we saved some for you. I’ll pour the milk.”

“Pictures, stories and muffins, too! I’ll have a hard time entertaining you from now on,” Mark said to his children, but his eyes were on Alice, and she lowered her lashes against his intent gaze.

She got up from the couch, straightened her clothing, and pushed her hair away from her face. Since she’d arrived at the Tanners’, she’d been French-braiding her hair, but it was always disheveled by the end of the day. As the children ran ahead of them to the kitchen, she said, “I know you said to put them to bed, but they begged so hard to wait up for you that I didn’t have the heart to make them go. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

“Mind?” he said, laughing. “I was being considerate of you. You’re supposed to have free evenings, and I didn’t want you to be bothered with them, after you’d had them all day.”

“I enjoyed the evening as much as they did. Besides, they needed help tonight, so I’m glad I was here. I’ll tell you about it later.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, and she darted a quick glance toward him. The expression in his blue eyes startled her, and she dropped her gaze quickly, not daring to interpret what she saw there. Impulsively, Mark embraced Alice in a brotherly hug, and for a moment, Alice rested her head on his shoulder.

Careful, Alice, don’t misinterpret his caress—he’s simply grateful to you for looking after his children, she told herself.

He dropped his arms, and she moved away from him casually, saying, “I can warm your dinner in the microwave if you haven’t eaten.”

“We had food sent in, so I’ve eaten, but the milk and muffins sound good.”

“Did you have a difficult evening?” she asked as they walked companionably down the hallway to the kitchen.

He groaned. “We met with a rich and very difficult client—one of the officers had offended him, and he was threatening to withdraw all of his assets from the bank, so the CEO wanted all of us there to mollify him.”

“Did it work?”

“Finally, but it was a long session.” He yawned.

Kristin had already placed four glasses of milk on the table, and muffins on napkins for each of them. Alice had intended to go to her room and not infringe on this short time Mark had with his kids, but she knew Kristin wouldn’t understand, so she sat down. She had no appetite, however, for as the children chattered about their day’s activities, from time to time, she sensed Mark’s eyes searching her face.

Mark took the last bite of his muffin and asked for another one. “Is it all right, Alice?” Kristin asked.

“Of course.”

“Now, you kids, go upstairs, brush your teeth and get in bed. I’ll be up to kiss you good-night as soon as I finish my snack,” Mark said. “Kristin, help Eddie.”

Alice started to tell him that Eddie didn’t need any help, but she decided to let Mark find that out for himself.

As the sounds of their footsteps faded up the stairs, Mark spoke quietly, “What kind of help did they need tonight?”

“Do you realize that Kristin and Eddie are afraid you’re going to die?”

His face blanched, and Alice continued, “They think they’ll lose you like they did their mother. They can’t understand why God let their mother die. I tried to talk with them and reassure them, but I don’t know how to explain God’s will to children. Betty said you’re an excellent counselor—perhaps you can talk with them.”

Mark laid down his fork, shoved the half-eaten muffin aside, and stared at the floor. At last he looked at her, and Alice was chilled by the bleak expression in his eyes.

“I can’t give them any assurance when I don’t have any for myself. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

He pushed back his chair, and without a word left the kitchen. His footsteps sounded leaden as he climbed the stairs.

Alice remembered something Betty once told her, “I think he’s lost his faith, and that’s a terrible thing to say about a man who was a powerhouse in the ministry.” Alice had purposely watched to see if Betty’s suspicions were true, but since Mark had always been upbeat, she decided that Betty was overly concerned. However, it had bothered Alice that God was never mentioned in the house, and that none of them attended church services. The family’s spiritual life had been neglected during Clarice’s illness, and Alice intended to start taking the children to Sunday school. But in light of Mark’s words tonight, she suspected that he did have a serious problem.

If she was inadequate in comforting a couple of children, what words could she find to encourage Mark Tanner? And why should she concern herself about this man’s happiness—she’d come here only to be a nanny to his children, hadn’t she? Alice didn’t dare truly answer that question—not even to herself.