Margaret Daley - What the Heart Knows

“He didn’t say no, which is a good thing. At least he’s thinking about it.” The oven timer went off and Kathleen removed the last loaf of bread. The aroma filled the kitchen with warmth and cozy thoughts.

“Good. Getting him involved with people might help him.”

Sitting back down at the table, Kathleen sipped at her now-cold tea. “Maybe. In the past few years my life has certainly changed. If you’d asked me two years ago what I was going to be doing now, I wouldn’t have thought this.”

“Unexpected things happen in life.” He sighed, running his finger along the rim of the glass. “I don’t let it worry me too much. My life is in God’s hands.”

Kathleen curled her fingers tighter around her empty mug and carefully placed it on the table. She used to think that until she’d lost John. “Have you ever wondered why bad things happen to good people?”

“Like your husband dying?”

“Yes.” Her chest tightened, trapping her breath.

“God has a plan for us. We don’t always know what it is. If we put our trust in Him, He will show us.”

Kathleen stared down at her mug. “When John first died, I couldn’t bring myself to pray or go to church. I only started attending again recently.” She brought her gaze to Jared’s, his image blurry. “John was such a good man. I still don’t understand why he had to die so young. A freak accident took him away just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“Maybe John fulfilled what God had planned for him. He’s now with our Lord in heaven. That’s not a bad thing.”

“It was for me.”

“But you’re only one of God’s children. He’s concerned for all of His children.”

Kathleen wasn’t sure if she could accept Jared’s words. His strong faith obviously helped him overcome a lot of difficult problems, such as the death of his wife, but their situations were not the same.

Jared started to say something when the ring of his cell phone cut him off. “Just a minute.” He retrieved the instrument from the pocket of his shorts and flipped it on. “Dr. Matthews here.”

As he listened to the other person on the phone, the lines in his forehead returned. A frown darkened his eyes and his grip tightened until his knuckles whitened. “I’ll come home immediately.”

When he disconnected, Kathleen asked, “Is something wrong at home?”

“Hannah. She’s locked herself in the bathroom and won’t come out.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure, but from what the housekeeper said, I think my daughter has started her period.”

“Oh, I see.”

His gaze embraced hers. “You probably do see, even better than me. Hannah doesn’t respond to our housekeeper that much. She calls her the old battle-ax. I’m not sure my daughter will want to talk to me about this, and I know she won’t with Mrs. Davis.” He attempted a grin that failed. “That’s why she’s in the bathroom right now with the door locked. She refuses to talk to the housekeeper.”

“Do you think she would talk to me?”

“I don’t know. But I’m willing to try if you are.” This time his grin stayed in place. “I’m a desperate dad.”

“Well, in that case, let me come with you and give it a try. It can be a confusing time for a girl. Have you talked to her about her body changing? Did your wife?”

“No, Alice didn’t. I tried and Hannah wouldn’t listen. I gave her a book about it.”

“Did she read it?”

“I think so. But then, knowing Hannah, she may have flipped through it just to please me. She’s one girl who I don’t think is too pleased to go into womanhood. She’s still quite a tomboy. She can get dirtier than Terry when she’s playing.”

Kathleen rose. “It’s not an easy time.”

“For the dad or the daughter?”

“Both. You’re a doctor. You’re very knowledgeable about all the changes that Hannah will go through. This is just the beginning.”

Jared reached for his plate and glass and took them to the sink. “Why do you think I’m so desperate? I feel ill-equipped to handle this.”

“I know what you mean. There have been issues with my son that I felt so awkward talking to him about. But I believe young people should be kept informed, and I want to be the one informing, not some friend who may or may not have the facts right.”

Outside on the porch Jared descended the steps. “When I signed up to be a parent, I didn’t realize all that it entailed.”

“Parents rarely do the first time around.”

“How about the first time with each sex? Raising a boy is so different from raising a girl.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.”

“You see, I knew there was something about you I liked. No arguments.”

She laughed. “Don’t count on it. I love to argue when I feel I’m right.”

“Is that a warning?”

“You bet.” Kathleen lifted her face to the sun and relished the warmth on her skin. The June air was still cool, the breeze caressing. She inhaled then exhaled a deep breath, wishing the beauty of the day could wash away the turmoil churning in her stomach. “Before long summer will be in full swing, searing heat and all.” She peered toward the Ozark Mountains. “But for right now there’s still a touch of spring in this corner of Arkansas.”

“My favorite time of year.” Jared started down the sidewalk toward the corner.

“When everything is reborn,” she said, falling into step beside him.

Ten minutes later Jared turned up the walk to a two-story redbrick house with two massive oak trees in front. Kathleen paused to admire the landscape. The yard was mowed and neatly trimmed with well-tended orange and yellow marigolds by the porch.

She whistled. “What a beautiful yard. You and my dad have a lot in common. I think you’ll be a great candidate to take care of the gardens at church.”

“The housekeeper takes care of the inside. I take care of the outside. I enjoy getting out and puttering around in the yard. Makes me forget about my worries for a short period of time.”

“You see, that’s how I feel about the kitchen.”

“How does Mark feel about yard work?”

“He used to love it. He and John would spend hours working outside. Now he doesn’t want to do anything. I feel like a nag just getting him to mow our lawn.”

She followed Jared up the steps to a huge porch that ran the length of his house. A profusion of potted plants adorned it as well as a swing and natural wicker furniture with bright yellow cushions. “Do you spend a lot of time out here?”

“When I can, especially in the early morning and the evening right before the sun sets.”

“Nice times of the day.”

“It’s my quiet time.” Again his grin appeared, dimpling his cheeks. “At least the morning is my quiet time. The kids aren’t up yet. I can’t really say that about the evening. I’ve helped with many a homework assignments on that swing.”

The front door swung open and Terry hurried outside. “Dad, Hannah won’t let anyone in. Let’s call the fire department. They can rescue her.”

Jared put his hand on his son’s shoulder to stop his forward momentum. “I think they have better things to do with their time than that.”

“Then how are we gonna get her out?”

“She’s not stuck in there. She can come out anytime she wants.”

“Mrs. Davis has tried everything. She yelled at her. She tried to bribe her. Nothing’s worked.”

“Let’s go see what we can do.” Jared hugged his son to his side for a few seconds before entering the house.

Upstairs Mrs. Davis, who had brown hair streaked with gray and pulled back into a severe bun, stood in the middle of the hallway in front of what was obviously the main bathroom, tapping her foot against the brown-carpeted floor. Her irritated expression underscored her exasperated stance.