What the Heart Knows

He didn’t move. “I’ve been jogging.”

She laughed. “Believe me, my kitchen table has seen worse than a man who’s been jogging sitting at it.”

He opened the screen door and came into the house, his large frame filling the small entry hall. He took a deep breath. “Something smells good.”

“I’m baking bread.”

“Baking bread? People still do that?”

“I’d do it even if I didn’t like to eat it just for the smell.”

“My mom used to bake bread, but that was ages ago. I haven’t had freshly made bread since I was a young kid.”

“I have one loaf finished. I’ll cut you a piece if you want.”

“There’s no way I’ll turn down that offer.” His smile grew, deepening the two dimples in his cheeks. “This is my lucky morning.”

Jared trailed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the glass table. She brought him some ice water, then returned to the counter to cut several slices of bread.

“Do you like to cook?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. You could call it one of my passions.”

“One?” He arched a brow. “What other passions do you have?”

The question caused her to pause. Tilting her head, she thought about it, realizing so many of her passions had been tied up with John. They had loved to hike and camp as a family. They had taken pride in fixing up their old house room by room until it had been stamped with their personalities throughout. “You know, besides cooking, I suppose I like to read just about any type of book.”

“You don’t sound very convinced.”

“So many things that I used to do were connected with my husband and son. Since my husband’s death there’s been a void that’s been hard to fill.” Kathleen finished slicing the bread, then brought the plate to the table and sat. “You probably know what I mean. Didn’t your wife die recently?”

A slight tensing of the shoulders and clenching of the jaw were the only indication Jared was bothered by her question. He took a sip of his water and picked up a piece of warm bread. “Alice has been gone for a little over a year.”

“Then you know how hard it can be to start a new life.”

“Yes,” he clipped out, downing half his water in several gulps.

“I married John when I was twenty. I’ve never had a career and I don’t have to work now. But suddenly I’m finding my life isn’t fulfilling, the way it was when my family was whole. I still take care of Mark and the house, but everything has changed. It’s as though I’m at sea adrift with no place to go.”

“Have you thought about getting a job?”

Kathleen nodded. “But with the way Mark’s been behaving lately, I don’t think I should. Maybe if things are better when he starts school in two months, I’ll try to find something to do.”

“You can always volunteer. We could use someone to organize volunteers at our hospital. Or I could always use an extra person to help with the youth group at church.”

Kathleen sipped her lukewarm orange-spice tea. “I’ll think about that. I used to volunteer at Mark’s school in Shreveport, as well as at our church. I enjoyed doing both of those jobs. If I’d finished college, I probably would have gone into a career as a social worker or a teacher. I like working with people, helping them.”

“That’s one of the reasons I became a doctor. I suppose you could say fixing problems is a passion of mine.”

“Since I have a problem, I’m glad it is.”

Jared settled back in his chair, relaxing totally as his gaze shifted to the large bay window. “Your yard is beautiful.”

“I wish I could take credit, but the former owners must have loved yard work. They did a wonderful job landscaping. I like to drink my tea in the morning and look outside or sit on the deck if it’s not too hot. There’s something about a rock garden that’s soothing.”

“The Hendersons, who owned this house, often worked wonders with the church garden. That’ll be a void we’ll have to fill.”

Kathleen chuckled. “Don’t look at me. If I can’t find someone to do my yard, this may be the best you’ll see.”

“Actually I was thinking of taking over that job at the church. I love to work in the yard, get my hands dirty. One of my favorite things is to commune with nature.”

“I love to commune with nature, too, like a connoisseur who appreciates fine art but doesn’t actually paint.” Their gazes connected, forming a momentary bond between them. “But I haven’t done any communing with nature lately. John, Mark and I would go out—” Her voice trailed off into silence. That life was over. She had to move on—quit thinking about the past.

“Go where?” Jared asked, his gaze returning to the yard, breaking the bond.

She flattened her back against the chair, the wooden slats pressing into her. “Camping and hiking. Also on trips into the bayous.” A long time ago, she thought. She’d come home to start a new life.

“With snakes and alligators?”

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed. I could never get my wife to go anywhere outdoors with Hannah, Terry and me.”

“She didn’t like being outside?”

“No.”

Again a shutter fell over his features, clearly putting an end to the direction of the conversation. A finely honed tension sprung up between them. The atmosphere shifted, and she wished the past had remained in the past. Each was uncomfortable talking about their deceased spouses.

Silence prevailed while Jared popped the last bite of bread into his mouth, then finished his water.

“How long have you lived in Crystal Springs?” Kathleen asked, needing the conversation to head in a more neutral direction.

“Ten years. My wife wanted to live near her mother. What made you move back home?”

“My family.” My need to put down roots in a familiar place, she added silently. To control the direction my life is taking.

“Family is important.”

“I’m hoping being around mine will help Mark. It’s becoming more obvious each day that my son needs more than I can give him, especially after last night at the church.”

“You don’t have just your family to help you. I’m here, too. We’ll find an answer to what’s going on with Mark. How was he after he got home last night?”

“He didn’t say much on the drive home or later. He went to his room and played his CDs—loudly.”

“You said he’s still asleep. When did he go to sleep?”

“Not until after four this morning.”

A frown creased his forehead and slashed his mouth. “When did this sleeplessness begin?”

“Six, seven, maybe eight months ago. It happened gradually. He would stay up later and later. By the end of school this year it was severely affecting his grades. He has always been a good student up until this year. He made several Ds and the rest were Cs. Do you think he’s suffering from depression?”

“That’s a possibility. Hopefully I can spend some time with him, maybe convince him to come in for some tests. Did he say anything about coming to the youth group on Sunday night?”

“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.

“I’ll take over, Mrs. Davis. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rotund, large woman huffed and rushed past Jared, Terry and Kathleen, mumbling about being behind in her work.

Jared approached the closed door and leaned against it. “Hannah, come out and let’s talk.”

“No! Go away. I hate being a girl.”

“I can’t do that, Hannah,” Jared said in a gentle voice. “Kathleen has come over to see you.”

Kathleen stepped closer until she, too, was leaning into the door. “I thought maybe you and I could talk woman-to-woman.”

Nothing came from Hannah for almost three minutes, then Kathleen heard the lock click and the door eased open.

“Come in.”

Kathleen went into the bathroom. Terry tried to follow. His sister blocked his way with her hands on her hips. She stuck out her lower lip, her eyes pinpoints, silently daring him to enter her domain.

“Terry, please go help Mrs. Davis now,” Jared said behind the boy.

Terry groaned but headed down the hall. Hannah immediately locked the door again. Kathleen sat on the lip of the bathtub while the twelve-year-old plopped down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her hands folded in front of her, the young girl stared at the cream-colored tile on the floor.

Kathleen waited a few minutes to see if Hannah would say anything. When she didn’t speak, Kathleen said, “I can still remember my first time. I was scared. I didn’t know what to feel. My mother is great, but she was always uncomfortable talking about things like that. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me.”

Hannah looked straight at her. “Dad gave me a book. It explained everything. That’s not the problem.”

When the young girl didn’t elaborate, Kathleen asked, “What is the problem? Maybe I can help.”

Hannah’s bottom lip quivered. “Can you stop it?”

“No, it’s a natural routine in a woman’s life.”

“But I don’t want it. I don’t feel well. I—”

Kathleen squatted in front of Hannah. “Do you have cramps?”

She shook her head. “I’m not myself. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Kathleen placed her hand over the young girl’s. “Out of sorts?”

“Yes.”

“That’s common. Our body’s hormones can affect our moods.”

Her eyes watery with unshed tears, Hannah bit her teeth into her bottom lip. “Why does this have to happen to me?”

Kathleen hid her smile, wondering how many women have thought that very same question. “It’s part of God’s plan. As you know from the book you read, having periods is tied to a woman being able to have children.”

“I don’t wanna change. I like everything the way it is,” Hannah said with a sniff.

“That, too, is part of life. Change will happen. I guarantee it.” Kathleen remembered her earlier comments about her life changing. She hadn’t wished hers to change, either.

“Can I still play sports when I’m—?” Hannah’s question faded into silence, her teeth digging into her lower lip even more.

“Of course. But as you become a young woman, you’ll need to see about getting things like a bra. Do you have one now?”

Hannah’s eyes grew round. “No! I don’t want one.”

“When you play sports, it’s better to wear one. I could go with you to get a sports bra if you want.”

“Sports bra?” Hannah thought that over for a moment. “Okay—I guess so. If I have to.”

“Can I help you with anything else? Do you know how to take care of yourself? Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes. Dad gave me a box of pads when he gave me the book to read.”

“Do you have any other concerns I can help you with?” Kathleen pushed to her feet, suddenly realizing she missed not having a daughter. John and she had wanted more children, but it wasn’t to be.

“When can we go shopping?”

Noticing the puffy redness around Hannah’s eyes, Kathleen took the washcloth from the towel rack and wet it. After handing it to the young girl, she said, “I’ll talk to your father and set a date if that’s okay with you.”

Hannah wiped her face, mumbling into the terry cloth, “You don’t think Dad will get mad if I go with you instead of him?”

Kathleen smiled at the young girl. “I think he’ll be all right with just the two of us going.”

“Thanks, Kathleen,” Hannah said as Kathleen left the bathroom.

Jared leaned against the wall across from her. When he saw her, he shoved away and started toward the bathroom, worry creasing his brow, his eyes dark. “Do I need to talk to Hannah?”

Kathleen stopped him with a hand on his arm. The second her skin touched his she knew her mistake. Her fingertips tingled as though an electrical current had passed between them. She immediately dropped her hand to her side. “She’s fine. Give her a few minutes to wash her face, compose herself.”

He stared at the closed door, the hard line of his jaw attesting to his continued concern. “Are you sure she—”

The door opened and Hannah emerged, her face scrubbed clean, all evidence of her tears gone. “Dad, I’m sorry.” Her gaze remained glued to the floor, her shoulders hunched. “I didn’t mean for you to come home.”

His tension siphoned from his expression, the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxing as a grin appeared on his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

A blush tinted Hannah’s cheeks. She shuffled from one foot to the other.

“Well, I guess just about anything. I know there’ll be some things that will be hard for you to talk to me about. But I want you to realize that I’ll love you no matter what.”

Hannah finally glanced up, tears misting her eyes. “I know, Daddy. I love you.” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

When Jared stepped back, his arms stayed on Hannah’s shoulders, compelling her to continue looking at him. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.” He cleared his throat. “Now how about a glass of lemonade? We could drink it on the porch.”

“I’m supposed to meet Bobby and the gang at his house. I’d better go before they start asking questions. You and Kathleen have a glass of lemonade. She has something to ask you.” Hannah flew down the stairs, leaving her astonished father watching her.

“You’re wonderful with your daughter.”

Jared swung his attention to Kathleen. “What do you need to ask me?”

“I promised I would take Hannah shopping—for a bra.”

“Oh, I didn’t—I should have realized.”

“Most fathers don’t want even to acknowledge that their little girl is growing up. It doesn’t surprise me you didn’t think about it.”

He plowed his hand through his hair. “What else have I forgotten?”

“You’re doing fine. Being a single parent isn’t easy. I never realized how much I depended on John until he was gone.”

A frown descended on Jared’s face. He started for the stairs. “Do you want a glass of lemonade?”

The rigid set to his shoulders spoke more than words. There was a lot of pain bottled up in Jared. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of how much. Having gone through her own kind of pain, she wished she could wipe his away with the brush of her hand. Maybe being there as a friend would help not only Hannah but him, as well. She liked being needed as a woman to a man and missed that since John’s death.

“That sounds refreshing after our near jog here.”

“I’m sorry about that. I’ve always walked fast and with the problem concerning Hannah—” He shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

“I understand. I’m just glad I could help.”

“Make yourself comfortable on the porch. I’ll get the lemonades and bring them out.”

Kathleen made her way to the porch and sat in the wooden swing. She couldn’t forget the swift change in Jared’s demeanor. The dark shadows in his eyes revealed his struggle to maintain his composure, to push memories away. How much was he keeping inside? Men often didn’t talk about their emotions. They locked them away, denying they existed. Her yearning to feel needed, to help, grew.

The bang of the screen door alerted her to his approach. She glanced up and saw that he had himself under control, a neutral expression on his face. He handed her one glass and folded himself into a wicker chair opposite the swing. For just a second regret whipped through her—she told herself it was only because it was harder to carry on a conversation with him several yards away instead of next to her on the swing.

He took a sip of his drink. “Did Mark say anything more about why he smashed his guitar?”

She stiffened, reminded of her own set of problems. “No, he just insisted that he didn’t want to play it anymore.” Kathleen drank some of her lemonade to quench the ache in her throat.

“In my practice I’ve seen some teenagers have a rougher time growing up than others. Keep watching him closely. Be there for him when he needs you.”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t need me. He spends most of his time alone in his room when he’s at home.”

“Maybe he was more upset about the move than you thought.”

“When we got home last night, I talked to him again about it and he told me he didn’t care.” Guilt at the inability to help her son cloaked her in a heavy blanket, pressing her down.

“Did you believe him?”

“Yes. The last couple of months in Shreveport he wasn’t hanging around his friends like he used to. I tried talking to him about it but didn’t get anywhere. Do you think I was just hoping he didn’t care because I wanted to move?” She needed someone to tell her she had made the right decision in coming home.