Forgiving Hearts: For Better or Worse Part 6

He laughed inwardly. Not exactly the reaction he was hoping for. "I know we covered a lot, but it'll get easier."

"Just so you know how bad things are, I made a 'D' on the midterm."

"There's no reason you can't get a 'B' or even an 'A' on the next test."

She laughed. "That will never happen on my own. I can't understand anything my teachers says."

"You no longer have to depend on the teacher; you have me."

An impish smile came and went on her face. "I've acquired a secret weapon."

"That's right. We've got two more sections to get through. When do you want to meet again?"

"I can't tomorrow. I've got a paper to write for my other cla.s.s. How about Tuesday night, same time?"

"Works for me." Jackson would have made himself available even if he had to cancel something else. As he watched her put away the book and papers, he tried to ignore the competing voices in his head. The crazy one was urging him to find a way to extend the evening, anything that would keep her there longer. The rational one that he usually listened to was reminding him not only of Bradley's existence but of his own very limited role in her life.

"Could I have some water?" she asked. "I'm going to take something for this headache."

"Sure." He went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. "I didn't notice before, but you do look pale. You need to go home and get some sleep." For a moment, she looked embarra.s.sed and he wondered why.

"Yeah, you're right." She swallowed the pills and turned to grab her backpack. "Thanks for letting me come over."

He didn't say the words trembling on his tongue. She didn't want to hear them. "No problem. I'll see you on Tuesday."

Hannah stared at the column of numbers on the page in front of her. She'd been working on the monthly sales report for over an hour. It usually took her less than twenty minutes. What was wrong with her?

It didn't take a genius to figure out her problem. She hadn't been the same since Mitch.e.l.l came to see her. She'd had almost as many fears as hopes for that visit. In the end, her doubts had been justified, and her dreams were going to remain unfulfilled. On top of that, she'd done something she regretted, something she'd do anything to reverse.

Wasn't it time to face the truth? Mitch.e.l.l wasn't going to marry her. Their time apart hadn't softened him, and her resolve to force the issue had resulted in an ever-widening gap between them. The hinges on her door had paid the price for Mitch.e.l.l's anger.

She was back where she started alone with her pride in shreds. Added to this was acute disappointment in her lack of control and a new and disturbing sense of guilt. It had been a long time since Hannah felt more than a twinge of remorse for something she'd done.

Was she actually listening to the conscience she'd virtually ignored for years? Jackson's words floated through her mind. You have someone who will forgive every one. Was she ready to admit that the choices she'd made weren't the right ones?

Jackson was helping one of his patients navigate the long sidewalk outside the clinic when he felt his phone vibrate. Glancing down, he saw a text from Hannah.

Could I come by earlier tonight? Around six? I'll bring dinner.

Once his patient was safely on the way, Jackson reached for his phone to answer her.

Six is fine. Please don't get Chinese. I can't eat that stuff.

I was thinking more along the lines of barbeque.

With coleslaw and baked beans? I suppose cheese grits are out of the question.

You're not in Cochran anymore, Jackson.

He laughed as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. Since his last patient of the day cancelled, he decided to finish a few progress notes and head home. He needed to take care of Freya before he showered and made the house presentable.

As he walked through his front door, Jackson remembered his mother's words about always being prepared for company. If he could be more disciplined about cleaning up, he wouldn't have a sink full of dirty dishes or a basket of unfolded laundry resting in its usual place of honor on the floor by the couch. If that wasn't bad enough, Freya's chew toys were everywhere, and the evidence of his late-night snacking habit was still on the coffee table in the living room. He'd be busy right up until Hannah arrived.

Jackson took care of Freya first. As usual, she was excited to see him. Even after he played with her, she trailed him around the house like a large shadow as he picked up and put things away. The only time she left his side was when he ran the vacuum. After he finished, she rejoined him in his bedroom where he stood surveying the contents of his closet.

"So, what do you think? The blue striped shirt or the black? The red one that I really like shrank two sizes after I left it in the dryer too long. When I put it on, I look like the Hulk bursting out of his clothes. It might work for him, but it makes me feel like I'm in a straitjacket." He grabbed the blue shirt and slid it over his head. "Should I tuck it in?" After doing so, he bent down and held Freya's head between his hands. "You like her, don't you? Yeah, I see that you do. It didn't take long for you to join the Hannah Grimes fan club."

After putting Freya in the backyard, Jackson lit a few scented candles in the dining room and sat down on the couch to wait. His stomach was in knots. "Desperate that's what you are," he said aloud to the empty room. "Get a grip, Jackson, or you're going to make a fool of yourself."

In the silence that followed his words, the doorbell rang. His heart began to thump painfully as he made his way to the door. With his hand on the doork.n.o.b, he took a deep breath and slowly counted to three. Nothing happened he still felt as uptight as before. Why did those calming techniques work for everyone but him? With a sigh, he forced a smile to his face and opened the door.

"You look like you had a rough day," he said as he lifted the bag of food out of Hannah's arms.

"It's not so much fatigue as aggravation."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later; let's eat first."

"I'll meet you in the dining room after I fix our plates."

Jackson kept the conversation on general subjects during dinner and even managed to draw a few laughs from her, but nothing could erase the sadness so plainly etched on her features. After they finished eating, he carried the dishes into the kitchen. He didn't realize Hannah had followed him until her hand slid across his back. Jackson went still as a pleasant warmth spread through him. If she knew what her touch did to him, she'd run out of the house and never come back.

"I don't think I ever saw my dad do dishes," she said into his ear.

He opened the dishwasher, hoping she hadn't noticed his reaction. "Me, either, but then again, my dad was gone most of the time."

"He was a truck driver, wasn't he?"

Jackson nodded as he dried his hands on a towel. "When he was home, my mom treated him like the king of the castle. Would you like some coffee? I've got decaf."

Hannah's lovely eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You drink decaf?"

A boyish smile broke through the solemnity of his expression. "Well, no, but I remembered that you're avoiding caffeine."

She leaned against the counter. "You think of everything, don't you?"

Everything except a way to make her fall in love with him. He scooped coffee into the filter. "I got that from my mom. She has a knack for figuring out what people like and making sure she has it when they come. I asked her once how she did it, and she said, 'You can learn a lot about someone by just listening to them'. I guess that sort of stuck, and I find myself doing it, too."

"Most people are so consumed with themselves that they miss what the other person is saying."

Jackson reached into the cabinet for two cups. "What's consuming your thoughts tonight?"

She avoided his eyes. "Mitch.e.l.l came to see me over the weekend."

"Is that a good thing?"

"No, not really. It was just a repeat of what we've been arguing about for the last year. I've done everything he's asked me to do. Why can't he do the one thing I want? Am I unreasonable to want to get married?"

"Of course you're not. Living together isn't G.o.d's way, Hannah. It only provides temporary satisfaction. When two people love each other, they should get married."

"Mitch.e.l.l doesn't see things that way."

"Then you're better off without him."

"I know that." She took the cup he handed her. "In a way, I wish he hadn't come. Being with him stirred up all the feelings I've tried to put behind me."

"I know you don't want to hear this, but if he hasn't changed his mind about marriage by now, he probably isn't going to. Once you accept that, the decision comes down to whether you want to do things your way or G.o.d's way. Personally, I don't think you'll ever be happy living with Mitch.e.l.l outside of marriage because you know it's wrong. If you thought it was right, you'd never have left him in the first place."

"Everything is black and white with you, isn't it? It's either wrong or right. There's no middle ground. Don't you ever get tired of not being able to do what you want?"

Jackson took a drink of coffee. "G.o.d's word is black and white about most things of importance. The Bible tells us that 'strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.' It isn't easy to do what's right; it requires sacrifice, faith and discipline. But it's the only way to have the joy and tranquility of mind that comes with being a child of G.o.d."

Hannah smiled faintly. "Sacrifice, faith and discipline: I don't like to do the first, and I don't possess much of either of the others."

"They're not things we have naturally. They're acquired by going through difficult experiences and learning to trust G.o.d."

"Like you did when you had your accident?"

"That as well as other things. The worst time I had was losing my dad. I didn't understand how G.o.d could take such a good man in the prime of his life and leave my mother without the comfort of a husband."

"Do you understand now?"

Jackson shook his head. "No, I don't, but it's not for me to question the One who spoke the world into being."

She put down her cup. "That's what it really comes down to, isn't it? If we believe G.o.d created us, it becomes reasonable that He expects obedience."

"That's exactly right. We're not our own; we belong to Him."

"I appreciate you hearing me out and being honest with me in return. There isn't anyone else I can talk to about this."

"Like I said, I'm here anytime you need to talk or just want someone to pray with."

She glanced at her watch. "We've talked enough for one night. My math problems aren't going to work themselves. We need to get started."

Hannah stared in horror at the white stick in her hand. This had to be a mistake. After being careful for so long, she couldn't have let this happen. Her mind drifted back to the weekend Mitch.e.l.l spent with her and she groaned audibly. How could she have been so stupid as to sleep with him?

"Please, G.o.d, not this," she said through her tears. "Not now, not when I'm trying to get my life on the right track again."

Wiping her eyes, she reached for the other stick in the package. Maybe she hadn't done it right. She read through the entire packet of material again. Her common sense told her this was a waste of time. There was nothing to do wrong. These pregnancy tests were so simple a child could do them. A few minutes later, two white sticks lay on the bathroom counter, both of them telling her the same thing.

She angrily swept the sticks into the garbage can and slumped down to the floor. Was this her punishment for ignoring G.o.d all these years? A sob erupted from deep inside her, quickly followed by another and another. She wasn't ready for this. How could she be a mother when she couldn't even manage her own life?

The chime of the clock in the living room finally penetrated her thoughts. She had to be at work by noon! Jumping to her feet, she turned on the shower and tore off the rest of her clothes. As the hot water ran over her skin, she forced her thoughts away from the glaring fact that she'd compounded the worst mistake of her life.

It wasn't until she was in the car that she remembered Mitch.e.l.l. A fresh wave of apprehension washed over her. They hadn't discussed the subject in years, but when they had, he'd been adamant about not wanting children. It had shocked her that someone could so definitively state that they didn't want children. Everyone wanted children eventually, didn't they?

By the end of her shift, Hannah had convinced herself that Mitch.e.l.l might not be pleased about the baby, but he would come around. He had to. She couldn't raise this child on her own. He claimed to love her. He had willingly partic.i.p.ated in this child's creation. He couldn't just walk away and do nothing. When she told him how much she needed him, he wouldn't refuse. Even he would see the importance of them getting married.

She went back and forth over these points and all the pros and cons of her situation a hundred times during the next few days. Only then did she finally work up the courage to call Mitch.e.l.l.

Jackson was returning from a walk with Freya when he noticed Hannah's car parked in his driveway. As he got closer, she got out and walked over to meet him, reaching down to scratch the sensitive spot behind Freya's ears.

"I could have called, but I wanted to deliver my good news in person."

He smiled at her. "Do you want to tell me here or inside?"

"Let's go inside. I made you a sweet potato pie."

"You made it?"

"Don't act so surprised. Just because I don't cook doesn't mean I can't."

As he held open the front door, he asked, "Did you know sweet potato is my favorite pie in the whole world?"

"I didn't until I called your mom yesterday. We had a nice long conversation about you. I know all your secrets now, Jackson."

He made a mental note to call his mom and find out what they'd talked about. "That's a scary thought."

Hannah carried the pie into the kitchen and started making coffee. "You can take care of Freya while I do this. You'll want to wash your hands, too."

As he removed Freya's leash and hung it on the wall, he hid a smile. She sounded like a wife. This he could get used to; it was too bad it would never happen.

When he returned from the bathroom, she handed him two plates. "Carry these into the living room while I get the coffee."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Am I being too bossy?"

"Not at all. I feel right at home."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "Get out of here before I leave and take my pie with me."

"Sweet girls from Cochran don't do things like that."

Hannah picked up the coffee cups from the counter. "That won't work either, Jackson. I'm immune to your Southern charm."

He laughed softly. "I'll have to do something about that."

After they sat down on the couch, she said, "All kidding aside, I hope you like the pie because it's your thank-you gift for helping me get an 87 on my algebra final."