Three weeks later, the football season had started. During that time, Laura had cleared up the majority of Bryan’s questions about his new son. While he admitted feeling he’d never get the knack of caring for a baby, he was comforted by the knowledge that Jacob at least had Laura to meet the majority of his needs.
Bryan was a bit surprised when she accepted his offer to transport T.J. to and from practices in return for watching Jacob after her usual business hours during practice. It had been the first glimmer of her relinquishing any sort of personal responsibility. The death of her husband had obviously been a devastating blow, and she seemed determined to handle life’s punches alone.
In the three weeks that he’d known the family, he’d come to understand what had drawn him to Laura Bates. She showed no signs of weakness. There was a part of him that worried about her. Would she give and give until there was nothing left of her? Or would she someday allow herself to grow whole again?
He admired her. Almost too much. And at the same time, he longed for proof that she was human; that she, like he, had her inadequacies as well. This selfishness was a quick, disturbing thought as he struggled to put the woman out of his mind.
After the second football practice, Bryan walked into the living room and handed the game schedule to Laura. “I hope T.J. remembered to tell you he needs to get a cup.”
“No, he didn’t mention it, but it’ll be no problem. I’ll send him with one tomorrow. He has a water bottle that we take camping.”
“What?” Bryan stopped and looked at her.
“You said a cup didn’t you? He drinks a lot of water.”
Clearing his throat, Bryan rubbed his forehead with his fingers, twisting his mouth in amusement. “I meant a jock cup. You know, an athletic supporter.”
Laura’s cheeks colored. “Oh…Why didn’t you just say he needs a jockstrap?”
“I assumed…never mind. You do realize that a cup is not the same as a regular jock, don’t you?”
Laura watched in embarrassment as he tried not to smile.
“It’s so refreshing to see a grown woman blush.” Bryan smiled in spite of the fact he wasn’t sure he liked the affect she had on him. “Why don’t I take care of this?”
“We can handle it.” Her voice raised an octave. “I hadn’t thought of this part of being a single mother, to be honest. I told you I wasn’t ready for him to be in sports.”
“Let me pick him up after school tomorrow and take him shopping before practice. Taking all the little ones shopping must be a disaster. The store closes at five.”
“If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind,” Laura said, absently stacking some scattered papers on the leather-top table. “I’ll owe you one.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Laura watched her three children climb into the tree house Todd and the kids had finished building only weeks before his heart attack. She wondered how their lives would be altered by his absence.
Would her sons grow up knowing how to treat their wives and children? How could she begin to answer the boys’ questions about puberty? Her own brother was nearly ten years her senior. She knew nothing of what changes her sons would experience.
Would Carrie learn how to relate to men? She seemed so lost without her daddy. One minute she would be a happy little girl, the next, overflowing with any number of emotions.
Laura understood exactly what Carrie was going through. It had devastated Laura when her grandfather had died. He’d been her best buddy, especially the summer before they found the tumor. Experience had taught her nothing, she realized. She’d felt the same sense of loss, and yet she had no way to help her daughter’s pain go away.
That evening, T.J. bounded into the kitchen while Laura was preparing dinner. He grabbed a carrot and munched noisily. “How can Daddy be happy in heaven without us?”
Laura put down the knife she was using, and her mouth opened, though the words she sought would not come. She leaned on the counter and looked at the younger version of her husband. “Heaven isn’t like Earth. There is no sadness and pain.”
“Do you think Daddy asked God why he had to die?”
“Yes, your dad probably had a whole list of questions for Him.” She wrapped her arms around her son and gave him a kiss. “I think God is telling Daddy the same thing that I remind myself of each day, that He hasn’t given us any more than we can handle. Sometimes it’s not easy to understand God’s plan, but the Bible says we should trust in the Lord with all our hearts.” Could she really expect her son to believe words she herself had questioned over and again in the past few months?
“Oh,” T.J. said, accepting her answer with a childlike trust. Then he ran back to the playroom.
Laura stood, surrounded by the emptiness that her son’s difficult questions prompted. “God, why isn’t it that simple for me? Why can’t I accept your wisdom with that same kind of trust?”
Later, while she was getting ready for bed, a raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her. Her entire body ached from uncontrollable sobs. “What do you expect of me God?” Stepping into the shower, she let the tepid water drip over her face and tired body. Inhaling deep, she leaned her head back. “How can I possibly raise these three children alone, God? They were all Todd and I could handle together.”
The next weekend her best friend, Barb, and her husband Chuck came for dinner with their two kids. Realizing how much she’d missed entertaining, Laura had looked forward to adult conversation all week.
Barb snatched a mushroom from the salad, and Laura scowled.
“Don’t start, Laura. My boss is driving me crazy. I’m almost ready to get back into child care,” Barb proclaimed.
“Right.” Laura laughed, still chopping vegetables for the salad. “If you want more chaos in your days, you are crazy.”
“A doozy, huh? What happened?”
“Ty and Jeffrey’s mom came and needed to talk just as the kids were getting up from their naps. I shouldn’t complain, it’s been months since she’s stopped long enough to visit. I think she was afraid to bother me after Todd died.” Laura checked the lasagna and filled the glasses on the table. Carrie escorted Barb’s daughter, Kate into the room.
“Mom, you said we could have pop tonight,” Carrie complained with an air of authority.
“After you drink your milk, you may.” Carrie moaned aloud while Laura called the boys to dinner and continued her story. “Since a parent was here, the kids decided to test the limits. Carrie started playing the piano. The two-year-olds pulled all the toys off the shelves. Jeffrey left the basement door open when he went to find his lost dinosaur. Rachel moved like a centipede toward the stairs. Letisha just kept on talking. When I tried to get around her, I dropped Jacob’s bottle, the top flew across the room, and formula splashed from the ceiling to the floor. I did reach the door before Rachel took a nosedive down the stairs.”
“Is that all?” Barb said in a sarcastic tone.
“Of course not. T.J. and Chad burst through the door fighting and screaming. Then, to make matters worse, the phone rang, and the school principal called about a fight Chad had been involved in. I’m so glad it’s Friday.”
After dinner, Chuck turned on a movie for himself and the kids, suggesting Laura and Barb escape to the family room to visit. Laura sank into the sofa and leaned her head back.
“You need to take a break.”
“Right,