What the Heart Knows

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.

Jared put his half-empty glass on the wicker table next to him. “Why did you want to move back to Crystal Springs?”