The Parting Gift(17)

Out on the porch he slumped into the old rocking chair. The paint was peeling and one of the runners was loose, issuing a creak as he lowered himself into it. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He rocked gently and tried to remember his mother again. On warm summer evenings she used to come out to the porch with a basket full of socks, ease herself into the rocker and sip iced tea and darn socks while she watched him play catch with his father in the backyard.

His dad had taught him how to hold his glove just so and how to follow through as he threw. His mother cheered wildly the first time he caught the ball, and his father hoisted him up on his shoulders and paraded past the back porch while his mother clapped and laughed.

Blaine was still lost in his memories when the screen door squeaked open and Mara stepped out beside him. The slamming of the door caught his attention and he glanced up at her and cringed. Her face was drawn with a tight frown and her arms crossed against her chest. He didn’t figure a welcome home speech was headed his way tonight. A quiet sigh escaped his throat, as she started to speak.

“Captain Graham, I was thinking. Will you come inside? I have something I think you should see.”

You have got to be kidding me. She is absolutely relentless. But when he hesitated, she grew more insistent. “Please. It will only take a minute.”

Blaine nodded reluctantly and followed her back inside. It was cold outside anyway, and he had left his coat in the kitchen.



****



Mara was impatient. Ordinarily, she would allow time to work its magic in situations like these, but it wasn’t a luxury David had. It occurred to her that if Blaine could see the letters his father had written to him, it might speed up the reconciliation process. Heaven knew, he wasn’t going to sit long enough to listen to his father tell his side of things; not to mention how quickly the sick man would become exhausted with the emotional exertion.

Leading the way through the kitchen, she strode to the cupboard where she had found the unopened letters this morning. Captain Graham followed at a safe distance, apprehensive probably, that she might lash out at him at any moment. Another frightening effect he had had on her since his arrival.

Normally, patience and a level temperament came easily to her. Captain Graham brought out the worst in her. Another confusing side effect of his presence.

She reached with shaky hands into the cupboard and brought out two thick bundles of envelopes – letters David had written over the past ten years but never posted. Mara didn’t know what they said; she hadn’t read them. She imagined they contained the words the man could never bring himself to say out loud to his wounded son, maybe not even to himself – his years of grief and pain from the loss of first his baby girl, then his beloved wife and finally, his prodigal son.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the packets in her hands and she sighed, turning to face the man behind her. He leaned against the wall near the door with his arms crossed against his chest, regarding her with an icy stare.

“Here.”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, but didn’t move. “What is it?”

“Letters. From your father.”

Blaine remained still. He was so infuriating.

“You want me to read his mail?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Captain Graham, these are letters he’s written to you. Every last one of them.”

Confusion flashed in his eyes. And was that a hint of tenderness, brief though it was? His hands dropped to his sides and he stood up straight, allowing his gaze to fall on the bundled stacks Mara clutched.

His hand reached forward, but he withdrew it in hesitation and wiped both his palms on the sides of his blue jeans. Then, as though he had come to a sudden decision he stepped forward and held out his hand to accept them.

He exhaled roughly and his eyes darted to the door of his room. She knew he was looking for a quick escape once again. It was okay. He would need time to read the letters, and she obviously had a similar grating effect on his composure as well.

“I need to check on your father,” she announced.

It had been a long, trying day. As Mara trudged up the stairs to check on David, she whispered a prayer for Blaine.





Chapter Six





For several days after giving Blaine the letters, Mara did her best to give him space and time to read and digest the content of his father’s letters. She made a valiant effort, and for the most part he made it easy by staying in his room for much of the day. But when he came out, she often found herself biting her tongue to keep from asking him about the letters or trying to convince him to spend time with David.

Whenever she would begin to encourage him in that direction, he would retreat back into himself and make a quick escape. His attitude in general was still resistant. Mara didn’t understand him. He was so stubborn. So infuriatingly arrogant.

It took everything she had not to ask him straight out if he had even read the letters. Her curiosity finally broke the morning of the eighteenth during breakfast when he plopped into the seat next to her with all the grace of a giant bear. Up until then Mara had been trying to keep her big mouth closed, but she had finally had enough.

“Have you read them?” So much for being subtle. She closed her eyes in embarrassment for her bluntness.

“You’re going to have to be more specific as to what you are referring. If by them you mean the two newspapers I was trying to catch up on from the past week, then yes. If by them you mean the letters you gave me the other day, then I say that’s none of your business.”