Cheryl Wolverton - A Mother's Love

Pushing the desolation from her thoughts, she reached for the brass doorknob and pulled the door open. She wished once again there was an easy way out of the mess she was in.

But there wasn’t That was why she was leaving.

For better or worse, she had made her bed; now she had to lie in it.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed toward the cab, refusing to look back, promising herself to only look ahead. She would rely only on herself from this day forward to get herself through the next six months.

“Shirley quit?” Jake Mathison swerved to avoid a huge puddle in the middle of the road, the beat-up truck bouncing as he hit a pothole instead. He moved the cell phone from his ear, then brought it back. “But she was assisting with those plans we’ve been working on as well as keeping my notes. And,” he suddenly added, “she helps with the children’s programs.”

Doom loomed before him as he realized all that would be left hanging with Shirley gone. He almost missed Jennifer’s next words, but instead nodded with exasperation. “I know, Jennifer. I’m not blaming her. If Charlie finally asked her to get married, I can see why she jumped at it. She’s been head over heels in love with him forever. I even counseled her when he left. That’s why she took that vacation out there.” Jake now wished in a small way that he’d had her wait just a bit longer.

No, that wasn’t true. He was happy for her.

He listened as Jennifer quickly suggested a solution.

“Yeah, okay. You do that. Maybe if you put it in the church bulletin, someone will be interested in temporarily assisting me.”

Though it was the middle of the afternoon, Jake squinted through the deepening gloom that had settled over the small streets of Centerton, Louisiana. It was the time of year for hurricanes. And whether they had hurricanes or not, the summer months always brought rain. So what if today was like a monsoon? Yesterday had been, also.

“Yeah, Jennifer. No, I won’t be back today,” he replied to her question. “Go on home to Gage.”

He squinted again as he went down the country road. “You, too. Bye.” He hung up.

Jennifer was a wonder. He adored her, had been delighted when she’d come to work for him as the day-care manager at his small church. Jake had even performed her marriage ceremony six months ago. He depended on her help.

Just as he had Shirley’s.

So, what was he going to do without his assistant? Not only had she kept his files in order, helped him when he went on his children crusades into the inner city, but she’d also been working closely with him on his latest project: getting the cities around Baton Rouge to pitch in and work together to build an inner-city recreation center where the kids would have a place to go, to get off the streets and away from drugs.

And now Shirley was gone.

Maybe it was the rain or his telephone call that kept him from seeing the woman until he was right beside her.

He caught only a flash of someone with long limp hair, huddled in an oversize yellow raincoat, before his truck splashed her and she cringed.

He hit the brakes, pulling off the road immediately. In his rearview mirror he saw the person stumble and fall from trying to avoid his splash.

“Oh, great! Good going, Jake,” he berated himself. He grabbed his umbrella and ran back to where the young girl was struggling up. Concerned, he held the umbrella out over her, trying to protect her from the rain.

Reaching down, he extended his hand. “Are you okay?”

The girl placed her pale-white hand in his. He felt calluses on the pads of her fingers, saw short clipped nails that were clean of nail polish. She struggled up.

When she lifted her head, green, the brightest he’d ever seen, met his gaze and he was transfixed. This girl— no , he corrected himself, this woman, had the most exquisite eyes he’d ever seen. They were beautiful. Large and innocent, they were framed by dark lashes. Perfectly arched eyebrows, a darker shade than her eyelashes, crested over her eyes. A few small freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, the same color as her dripping red hair.

Then her expression changed, became guarded, world-weary. “Are you okay?” he repeated, wondering what had caused the change.

“Fine.”

He waited, but she didn’t say anything else.

“Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

She started to shake her head, but he stopped her. “It’s pouring rain. Come on. I can’t leave you out here like this.”

She lifted her chin, then sighed, her shoulders drooping.

What could make this beautiful woman look so beaten down? His heart went out to her. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I won’t hurt you. Besides, it’s the least I can do, since I wasn’t paying attention and splashed you.”

She raised her wary gaze to his again, then nodded once, curtly. “Thank you.”

He walked beside her to the car. “I’m Jake Mathison.”

“I’m Margaret…” She hesitated.

“Margaret? You look more like a Maggie,” he joked, trying to put her at ease as he opened his truck door.

She lifted astonished eyes to him.

“You are a Maggie.” Jake laughed, knowing he’d guessed right, and her gaze softened for just a minute.

“I’m sometimes called that,” she finally replied. She turned her back on him and climbed into the cab.

He wished he’d brought his car, but he’d had to do some errands for the church. Though his congregation ran just over one hundred now, it didn’t seem as if he ever had enough help.

Going around, he hopped in the driver’s seat “Well, Maggie, where can I take you?”

“My car is about two more miles down the road. I need to stop and see if I can figure out what’s wrong. If you’ll just drop me off there…”

He looked at the hat—the one with the familiar logo—she was wearing on top of her sodden curls as he pulled back onto the highway. “You work at the fast-food restaurant about five miles back?” he asked.

“Umm-hmm,” she said, staring out the window, not meeting his eyes.

So, she didn’t want to talk. But Jake couldn’t let it go. He was concerned. She shouldn’t be out walking the streets, especially in a rainstorm. “You on your way to work?”

Another sigh escaped her, and then he saw it. One lone tear slipped from her eye and trailed down her cheek, mingling with the wetness already there.

Uh-oh, he thought. Help me, Father.

Very softly he said, “You want to talk about it?”

She shrugged.

He didn’t push her but waited.

Finally, she said, “I was at work, but they let me go.”

He drove along the bumpy road, doing his best to avoid potholes. Jake wondered if she saw the green trees lining the highway or if she was simply looking inside herself at something he couldn’t see. He was almost certain it was the latter.

“You were late because of your car?” he prompted.

She shrugged. “That was only an excuse. It doesn’t matter,” she added, suddenly sounding stronger. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll find another job.”

They arrived at a broken-down, rusted-out yellow compact. She started to get out. Jake touched her arm to stop her but wasn’t prepared for her reaction.

She jumped and jerked her head around. Fear flashed through her eyes, before warning replaced it.

He immediately pulled back, giving her space.

“I’m an old hand at working on cars. Let me have a look at it.”

“It’s not necessary—”

“Think of me as a knight in shining armor,” he teased, smiling at her. “My mama would come back from her grave and tan my hide if I left a lovely woman like you stranded with a broken-down car.”