Bride in Training. Gail Martin Gaymer
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found love again, lessening Martin’s bitterness. Nick and Steph made a great couple, and now there was a baby on the way. The knife twisted deeper.
“Is something wrong?”
Martin jerked his head upward, sorry he’d let his mind wander. “Not a thing. In fact, I have some good news.”
Her face brightened. “Really? Is it someone new in your life?”
Martin squirmed as a vision of Emily filled his mind. “She’s a cairn terrier named Nessie. A bundle of fur.” He rose to evade the disappointment on her face and grasped the flowers. “Do you have a vase for these, Mom?” Rather than looking at her, he scanned her small apartment for a container, the kitchen taking a corner of her living room with a bedroom and bath beyond. “Martin.”
He glanced her way.
“Look on top of the cabinet there.” She pointed. “Use that crystal one. Your father brought that home for me once filled with roses.”
He reached above the cabinet and lowered the vase, recalling how often he’d seen it filled with flowers in their home when he was a teen. Flowers. The memory of Emily in his yard slipped through his mind until he refocused. “Dad was a good man.” He found the courage to face her.
A sweet smile curved her mouth. “I didn’t know if you boys realized that. He was strict and not always there for you when you needed him.”
A void rushed through him and he remembered his yearnings to have his father notice him the way he noticed Nick, but he provided for them and cared in his own way. “We knew.”
He turned his attention to filling the vase with water and jamming the flowers into it. He had no idea how to arrange them. “What do you think?” He stepped past the cabinets and held the vase so she could see it.
“I think you should let me meet your new pet.”
Though she’d faltered over her words, Martin realized how much she’d improved since her stroke, but he also caught her message. His stomach knotted. She wanted to be with him or Nick and not here. But they both had jobs and… “We’ll work something out now that you’re walking better.”
“I’ve tried.” She turned her attention to the flowers, sending him a crooked smile left from her stroke. “Do you need help with those?”
“Probably.”
She beckoned him to bring her the flowers.
“Sorry. I don’t do arranging.” Martin chuckled as he approached her, but he didn’t feel the humor. He shifted a wooden TV tray closer to her chair and set the flowers on it. “What do you need?”
“Scissors.” She motioned toward the corner of her cabinets. “In the end drawer there.”
He opened it and found the scissors.
“And some paper towel.”
Nick unrolled the toweling and brought it to her with the scissors, then sat in the nearest chair to watch. Her earlier comment about bringing her home for a visit had unsettled him. He and Nick should be more available to her, but somehow life got in the way. He visited regularly, but his mother wanted more. He lowered his head, knowing that visiting this way meant he could leave after an hour or so when it was convenient and then get on with life.
But this was her life in this limited space with only a few mementos of the past, like the vase that meant so much to her. He closed his eyes a moment, wishing life didn’t hurt so much. But the Lord promised believers Heaven, where pain and sadness would be gone. He forced his head upward and watched his mother manipulate the flowers, clipping off an end here and sliding in a stalk of greenery there until the flowers looked like a real arrangement.
“Good job, Mom.”
She grinned, adding the final few flowers, her veined hands, fragile and almost transparent, working deftly with the blossoms.
“Arranging flowers is sort of a lesson in life, Martin. Sometimes you have to clip away a bad stem or shorten a blossom so it doesn’t overpower a more delicate one. You have to discard ones that are broken or dead to make room for the flowers that are still lovely.”
Discard the dead and broken. Why couldn’t he do that? Dead dreams and broken promises. Cut them away so they didn’t overpower what was worthy and beautiful.
“When you tuck something beautiful beside the plain, each enhances the other.” She turned the vase around to face him. “What do you think?”
“It looks great. Just like a professional.”
She waved his words away, and he grinned seeing both hands functioning now after the stroke that had left her with so many problems.
He rose. “Where do you want the vase?”
“On the table there.” She pointed to the small dining table. Her eyes drifted from the arrangement to him. “Tell me about the dog.”
“I adopted her from Time for Paws, where Steph works.”
Her eyebrows raised. “From the shelter?”
Her tone let him know she hardly believed he’d obtained a dog from there. “Yes. She’s five, but her life expectancy is three times that.”
She gave him a motherly look and pushed the table to the side. “I suppose Steph helped you select this dog.”
He fought his growing anxiety. “No. I decided to stop on my way home from work and take a look. The part-time girl was there.”
“You mean Emily?” Hearing her name caused his pulse to skip. “I met her at the wedding. Very sweet.”
“I suppose.” His heel tapped against the floor, and he pressed his hand against his knee to control it.
His mother noticed, and he squirmed while she studied him. “Emily’s nice, don’t you think?”
He drew back and gave up on quieting his knee. He knew what his mother was getting at. If she were still living in her home, he would be invited to dinner once a week to meet some young woman who was the daughter of a friend or a friend of a friend. She believed God meant everyone to be in twos. Just like the ark. Hear that, Noah?
Martin gave up. When his mother probed for information, she knew how to do it. He’d run into the same technique as a child. He couldn’t get away with anything, but then, he rarely wanted to. As the oldest child with his parents’ full attention, he’d demanded much of himself, not wanting to disappoint them.
Emily became the topic of conversation for the next few minutes. He told her about his problem with Nessie, and how Emily had dropped by with the toys.
“That’s strange. Why would she do that?”
“I’d asked her about obedience training, and…” His cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Yes, I’m sure Emily would be happy to help.”
Knowing his mother, she’d never stop. Never did when he was a boy, and she wouldn’t now. Instead of trying to respond, he dug out the phone and flipped it open. His chest constricted. Emily. He stared at her number, then closed the lid. “Important?”
No. His stomach rolled. Yes, it was important. He wanted to know why Emily had called. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
He looked away. “I’m sure.” Then he rose. “Mom, what’s on your mind? Do you think every time my phone rings it’s some woman you can trap into falling in love with me? It’s not going to happen.”
“Martin. No one needs to be trapped. You’re a handsome man with a successful business, a lovely home, and a new dog.” She shook her head. “And I want you to have the joy of being a father one day.”
“A father?” He shook his head. “I need a wife first.”
“Now,