The next morning, Wes sat alone in the small building that had housed his business for the last several years. He couldn’t believe he was going to lose it. He glanced up at the plaque that he’d won three years ago, for “Builder of the Year.” His business had been booming then, and he’d developed a reputation for reliable, honest, high-quality work.
Who would have believed it would come to this?
He heard a car pulling up on the gravel parking lot and through the window saw his lawyer. More bad news, he thought, bracing himself. What more could they take away?
He met Bert at the door and reached out to shake his hand. “How are you doing, Wes?” the tired-looking attorney asked.
“I’m OK,” he said. “Still a little numb, but OK.”
Bert pulled up a chair and sat down to face him. “I just wanted to let you know that I tried for another extension. They wouldn’t give it.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t think they would.”
Bert looked down at his feet. “Man, I wish I had the money to loan you myself.”
“It’s a lot of money,” Wes said.
Bert looked back up at him. “I feel like I’ve let you down a lot lately. First on the custody thing, and now this …”
Wes shook his head and got up. “It wasn’t your fault, Bert. We’re gonna be all right. I just haven’t been able to tell Amy yet that we’ve got to move out. I keep putting it off.”
“I don’t blame you. She’s been through enough lately.” Bert paused and adjusted his glasses. “By the way, I was thinking this morning, and it occurred to me that you might want to keep this foreclosure from Laney Fields. Is there any way you can hide it? Make it look like you just willfully decided to move?”
“No, it’s too late. She already knows.”
Bert groaned.
“Why?”
Bert got up and slid his hands under his coat and into his pants pockets. “Well, I was just afraid she might take advantage of it. Try to take you back to court for full custody.”
“Full custody?” The words knocked him back. “Why would she do that?”
“Well, she could say that you don’t have a job or a home and convince the judge that the child is better off with her right now. I was just thinking it was better if you could avoid it.”
Wes stood frozen for a moment, trying to think as Laney might think. Would Laney do that? No, he thought. She couldn’t. “I don’t think Laney would be that opportunistic,” he said. “She does seem to care about Amy. She knows it would only hurt Amy to take her completely away.”
“People can convince themselves of some crazy things, Wes. I’d look out, if I were you. Don’t give her too much ammunition. How did she react to the foreclosure?”
Wes almost laughed. “Well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
The amusement left his eyes and faded into weariness. “She asked me to marry her.”
“What?” The lawyer almost choked. “Marry her?”
“Yeah. She said she’d give me all the money I needed to bail me out of this. All I had to do was plug her into Patrice’s place …” His voice trailed off as he saw that his lawyer wasn’t amused anymore.
“And what did you say?”
“I told her no. In no uncertain terms.”
Bert nodded. “I see.”
“You see what?” Wes asked. “You don’t think I ought to marry her!”
“No.” Bert shook his head and stroked his chin. “No, of course not. I’m just wondering if this doesn’t prove my point. What will she do if you don’t? Do you think she’ll take further action?”
“Well, I don’t think so.” He looked down at the floor, remembering the way she had pleaded with him. She was desperate; that was clear. And she had called his bluff and taken legal action before.
Bert’s face reflected his grave concern as he studied Wes. “Wes, I know that marrying her must seem ludicrous to you. But if you say no, maybe you ought to do it gently. Don’t make her mad.”
“Bert, you sound like you’re afraid of her.”
“I’m afraid of the power she might have,” Bert said. “Wes, if she does happen to take you back to court, chances are, you could lose Amy once and for all. I’d tread real lightly around Laney Fields if I were you.”
Days later, as he waited for the time to pick Amy up from Laney’s, at which time he would tell her that she was about to lose the home where all her mother’s memories still lived, Wes sat on his bed, leaning back against the headboard.
Not for the first time since Laney suggested it, he wondered if marrying her could really be an option to keep him from having to break his child’s heart.
It wasn’t as if Laney were some hag or some terrible influence on his daughter. If he thought about it rationally, he might even see it as a blessing. It might even be what Patrice would have wanted.
After all, he had neither the time, money, nor inclination for single’s bars or health clubs, and his church had very few single women. Where else did a single man go to meet women to find companionship? If he’d ordered her specifically, he couldn’t have been offered a better blend of what he needed. Not just any mother for Amy. Her real mother. Not just any woman for himself. A woman he’d already found himself attracted to.
But what of love? And what of those bonds that had made his marriage with Patrice work? What of having things in common, things to share, things that made them enjoy each other’s company?
He didn’t know about any of those things with Laney because he’d never had the chance to find out. Theirs had been a relationship of enmity from the first day he’d laid eyes on her. And it hadn’t gotten any better.
He opened his eyes and looked at the portrait of Patrice on his bedside table. Another wife, he thought, to fill the empty slot where only she had the right to be. He took the picture, frowning as he caressed the frame.
Swallowing the pain gathering in his throat, he pulled open the drawer and slipped the picture in. His breath grew thin, his heart constricted, and he stared at the open drawer. Closing it was a Herculean task he wasn’t prepared for.
He lifted the photograph back out of the drawer and returned it to the table. “I still can’t do it,” he whispered brokenly. “I just can’t.” He rubbed his face wearily and lay down on the bed, staring at the serenely smiling woman in the photo. “I can’t replace you.”
His eyes misted, and he moved his blurred focus to the ceiling, searching for an answer. But no matter how he had searched over the past year, he couldn’t escape the cold, dark loneliness that bordered on the unbearable, topped with scattered memories that he wanted desperately not to fade.
And how much more unbearable would that loneliness be with a woman he didn’t love sharing his home and his daughter?
He pulled off the bed and went to Amy’s room. Sitting on her bed, he picked up her small teddy bear and hugged it against his chest. She was so young, and she needed a mother. He still wasn’t sure why God had allowed her to end up without one. Maybe this was God’s way of working things out, he thought. Maybe he had sent Laney to them.
And maybe not.
He closed his eyes and tried to pray—for wisdom and discernment and the strength to follow God’s will. But the prayer didn’t come easily, and he recalled the days after Patrice’s death when he had been so steeped in his own pain that he couldn’t pray at all. He had relied then on the prayers of those who loved him and on God’s faithfulness to carry him when he wasn’t able to walk.
Maybe this was one of those times. Still, he knelt beside her bed and tried.
But as he did, his daughter’s needs became the most important in his mind. Amy needed a mother, but she also needed stability. Laney was offering the chance to be a mother to her without disrupting her life. What difference did it make, really, if he felt bad about it? What difference did it make if it made him happy or not?
His daughter had lost her mother, and now she was losing her home. He was losing his income, and the security he had wanted so much to provide Amy was a thing of the past.
Laney had offered him the chance to change all that.
“Wes, if she does happen to take you back to court, chances are, you could lose Amy once and for all.”
Bert was right. The threat was there, whether she had uttered it or not. She could convince herself that she was doing the best thing for Amy and remove Wes completely from his child’s life. He’d be like a divorced father with alternate weekend visitation. It was something that he couldn’t stand the thought of.
On the other hand, if he took her offer, he could keep Amy in her own home, his business wouldn’t go under, and Laney, who had joint custody already anyway, would be able to mother Amy without taking her from him.
He dropped his head on the side of the bed and cried out to God to give him wisdom, but it seemed that his mind and heart were too full to allow room for the Holy Spirit. Defeated and hopeless, he found himself making a decision he had never believed he would make, but the only one he could justify. It was the least harmful decision for Amy. It was the safest one for them all.
Wondering if he was finally crossing the threshold of insanity, he got up, found his keys, and headed over to Laney’s.