Tender Mercies Page 10

  “It’s nothing, Lex. The guys—the football players—are glad to help out, and the coach gave his full support. He used to hang out at a place like this when he was young, so he understands what it’s all about.”

  “I wish more people did. I’m afraid we’re going to lose everything.”

  “I know. But this is a start, at least.”

  “A very healthy start. Thank you.”

  “We still make a good, team, Lex. Don’t you think?”

  Her conscience gnawed as Renee’s words echoed in her head. He has a right to know, Lexi. He made a child, lost a child, and he doesn’t even know.

  What would it do to him if he ever did find out, and how could she ever bring herself to tell him?

  11

  The aroma of T-bones sizzling made Lexi’s mouth water. She watched Cooper lean over the gas grill beside Andy, grab a thick steak with tongs and demonstrate the proper flipping technique. Grilling, apparently, was a work of art for Cooper, and now Andy was hooked, too.

  She laughed as Max circled their feet, his jowls bubbling with slobber, hoping for a scrap of meat to fall off the bone.

  He’ll have a nice treat later.

  The oven timer buzzed, and Lexi went inside to check on the potatoes. Heat from the oven washed over her as she opened the door to prick one of the hand-selected spuds with a fork. The size of them amazed her. No cheap potatoes from one of those discount ten-pound bags she stocked up on—Cooper had hand-picked these big boys himself.

  She closed the oven door, reset the timer for another ten minutes, and turned to check the table. A crisp salad filled her favorite floral-print ceramic bowl and three settings were ready for the feast.

  And a fresh pitcher of Cooper’s favorite sweet tea is on the counter, along with sliced lemon wedges, in case he wants to refill his glass.

  She wandered into the living room and the thick odor of fresh paint greeted her as she gazed out the bay window. The porch looked new again from the double coat of creamy white latex they’d finished applying less than an hour ago.

  Lexi smiled as she remembered how Cooper showed up that morning bearing a five-gallon bucket of premium outdoor paint and all the trimmings—brushes, plastic tarps, and a few pans to hold the paint.

  Cooper also had a sackful of groceries—three impossibly-thick T-bones, baked potatoes and the makings of a hearty salad.

  “For a feast,” he explained, handing her the sack. “When we’re finished with the painting.”

  “Cool.” Andy peeked into the bag, poked at the wrapping on one of the steaks. “I could eat one now, they look so good.”

  “Hold that thought. You know how to grill?”

  Andy shook his head and lowered his gaze. “Never had the chance.”

  “No worries. We’ll do it together. I’ll show you the ropes. We can start by marinating the steaks so they’ll be good and tender by the time we’re finished painting and ready to toss on the grill.”

  He took Andy inside and together they’d rummaged around the kitchen until they had utensils and spices strewn across the kitchen counter like a platoon of fallen soldiers. Soon the steaks drowned beneath a sea of marinade.

  Then they’d stridden outside with purpose—two men bent on transforming the decaying exterior of her cozy little house.

  “Can I get on the ladder?” Andy asked. “I can slap paint on all the upper trim.”

  “It would make more sense for Cooper to do that, since he’s taller.” Lexi smoothed her T-shirt over a pair of khaki shorts, saved for work occasions like this. “You can help me with the rails, instead.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I can help you with the rails, Lex.” Cooper winked at Andy. “You’re plenty tall enough, sport. Grab the ladder from my truck. I’ll work down here, keep an eye on your aunt Lexi—quality control you know.”

  Andy nodded. “Yeah, right.” His gaze locked with Cooper’s, and Lexi imagined they’d formed some kind of friendly conspiracy. “I’ll get the ladder and go around to the other side of the house, work my way toward you two, if that’s OK. We can meet in the middle.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” Cooper pried open the paint bucket, lifted it like it weighed next to nothing to pour a healthy amount into Andy’s pan, then Lexi’s and his own. “Take this.”

  Andy grabbed the ladder and the pan and went around to the opposite side of the house. Pressing ear buds into his ears, he cranked up the volume on his iPod and got lost in his own world.

  The back door slammed, startling Lexi from the memory. “It’s chow time, Aunt Lexi! Wait ’til you see these juicy slabs of meat.”

  She smelled their rich aroma, and her belly unleashed a small roar. She gave the porch one last look before turning back toward the kitchen. The oven timer buzzed again...perfect. She walked through the doorway to see Cooper don oven mitts and open the door to reach into the heat.

  She stopped in her tracks, let out a hearty laugh. Cooper dropped the potatoes onto the stove top and turned to look.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You—in those mitts.”

  He held them up, turned his hands this way and that for a closer inspection of the flowery cloth. “I don’t see anything funny.”

  She laughed again, and Andy joined in.

  “Don’t burn your hands,” Andy cautioned as Cooper tossed the foil-wrapped spuds onto a plate. “You won’t be able to throw the football after dinner.”

  “I’m an expert.” Cooper set the plate on the table. “Don’t worry about my hands, sport. Just toss those steaks on the table and scrub your own, OK?”

  “I’m on it.”

  Lexi marveled as Andy set the platter of sizzling meat in the center of the table and rushed to the sink to lather his hands. No argument—no debate. Amazing, really.

  He dried his hands and they each slid into a chair. Cooper cleared his throat and glanced at her from across the table. “Do you mind...if I say grace?” He reached for her hand.

  Hoping her voice didn’t give away how startled the request made her feel, Lexi answered, “Yes, please.”

  “Thanks.” So the three held hands and bowed their heads as Cooper murmured a heartfelt blessing over the food.

  Lexi remembered a similar time...the first time she and Cooper had prayed together.

  It was the summer before their freshman year of high school, and she’d invited Cooper to a family picnic at the lake. Baskets of hamburger buns and bowls of potato salad and baked beans graced a sunflower-yellow cloth her mom had smoothed across the picnic table. The aroma of meat made her belly dance as juicy hamburgers sizzled on the portable charcoal grill her dad saved for occasions like this.

  “Lexi,” her mom called as she shooed a fly from the platter of frosted fudge brownies. “You set the table while Cooper helps your father get the burgers from the grill. Then we’ll eat.”

  Lexi hummed as she laid plastic forks and knives beside paper plates and atop paper towels she’d folded into neat little triangles. Behind her, she heard her dad teaching Cooper the ropes on grilling burgers to juicy perfection. When Cooper spoke, she noticed his voice had deepened during the past several weeks. He’d grown taller as spring eased into summer. Now, when they arm wrestled at the kitchen table during a homework break he always won.

  When he brought the platter of grilled meat to the table, he grinned at her and winked. “You can have first choice, but it all looks good.”

  Terri and her parents joined them at the table, and Cooper surprised everyone by asking if he could say grace.

  “Sure.” Her mom’s eyes had glowed with pride, as if he were her own son. And with as much time as Cooper spent hanging around their house he could be, except Lexi didn’t think of him as a brother. She felt something different...something that made her insides sing. “You go right ahead, Cooper.”

  They joined hands, and she still remembered how strong and warm Cooper’s fingers had felt as they twined with hers. His dark hair, damp and tousled from their swim i
n the lake, fell over his eyes as he bowed his head.

  His words made tears well in her eyes. As she listened to him give thanks for her parents, for Terri...for her, she knew, somehow, he’d finally let go of the bitterness over the loss of his mom, a loss that had made him restless and kept him from believing in the Savior she had grown to love. Since the day they’d met, they’d shared so many things, and now they shared a faith, too.

  And it was his own mom’s death that helped him to understand her so well when she, too, lost her mom the next spring. He was the only one who truly felt what she was going through...the profound hurt and grief that plagued her during the months that followed.

  Now, all these years later, gazing across her own kitchen table at Cooper, she wondered what had happened to his faith when he left her for good, the night he’d boarded a plane to Jacksonville, and how he’d seemed to find that faith once again. Would he hold onto it, grow stronger in it now, or would he pull away from it again, as he had during the draft and the years that followed?

  How can I trust where this may lead, Lord? I can’t bear to be hurt again.

  When his prayer was finished, Cooper lifted his head and his gaze found hers. He motioned to the platter that overflowed with perfectly-grilled steaks. “You can have first choice, Lex, but it all looks good.”

  ****

  He watched her plunge her arms, elbow deep, into the sudsy dish water. Finding a plate, she scoured it with a small yellow sponge, removing stubborn remnants of baked potato from the meal they’d shared.

  A delicious meal, he might add.

  Her posture relaxed as she leaned against the counter, and sleek blonde hair caressed the nape of her neck. There was something inherently appealing about watching a woman wash a dish, rinse it and stack it neatly in the drain...something that made his gut curl tight and his heart race.

  He eased in beside her, drew a breath of the vanilla that scented her skin, and reached for a dish towel.

  “Mind if I help?”

  “I’d...like that.”

  The kitchen’s cabinet space was limited, so it wasn’t hard to put things back in their proper place. “Andy’s football skills have improved by leaps and bounds.” He glanced through the window over the sink. “And he’s tumbled head-first into a growth spurt, which is a huge plus. Look at him handle the ball.”

  “He has gotten better,” Lexi followed his gaze. “You’ve really helped him, Cooper.”

  “I can’t take the credit. He’s practiced a lot.”

  “True. But you believe in him, and that gives him the confidence to keep trying, to work harder.” She handed him another plate. “Mr. Grinstead called this afternoon.”

  “Oh, no. What now?”

  She grinned. “Relax. It was nothing like that. He just wanted to tell me how much Andy’s improved. He’s turning in all of his work on time this grading period and he’s making an A, Cooper.”

  “Well, that’s certainly good news.”

  “The best.”

  “So, I guess this means he gets to help with the camp tomorrow? He’s been looking forward to working with the guys from UT.”

  “I know, and yes, he’ll be there to help. We’ll both be there bright and early.”

  “Then, I guess I’d better head on home and let you get some sleep. It’s getting late.”

  “It is, Cooper.” She rinsed the last dish, and he dried it before placing it into a cabinet. “Thank you for painting...for dinner...for everything.”

  “You’re...welcome.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and her eyes widened to the size of chocolate kisses as his knuckles brushed her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Lex.”

  “I...” She stepped back and pressed a hand to the side of her face. The pink tinge of blush swept across her cheeks. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Before the screen door slapped closed behind him, he turned to face her. He cleared his throat, shifted feet as he gathered the words he needed to say. “You know that night—when we...”

  Her gaze lowered and the pink tinge exploded to full-blown crimson. “Yes, Cooper, I remember.”

  “I-I’m sorry it happened the way it did. I know you wanted...to wait. I pushed you, Lex, and I shouldn’t have. It...I was wrong.”

  “It’s done, Cooper. We can’t go back.”

  “I know. I just wanted to...tell you that. You should know that, Lex.”

  His gut clenched as her eyes filled with tears. There was more she longed to say...he could sense it.

  “You should go now, Cooper.”

  He didn’t want to—could hardly bear the thought. But she was right...he should go.

  “Goodnight, Lexi.” I love you. The words almost slipped out. “Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, Cooper...in the morning.”

  ****

  Lexi stared up at the ceiling through the stillness of her bedroom. Moonlight peeked through the blinds, casting an eerie glow. She thought of Cooper, and sleep refused to come. Memories of that night, the one Cooper had referred to, came tumbling back to her.

  There’d been a storm...one that caused the earth to shake with deafening roars of thunder and the skies to flash with heated streaks of lightning. And the wind...it had swirled and moaned restlessly around the small campus house Cooper rented with two other players.

  There was a break in training, and his roommates were gone for the weekend—home to visit their families. She and Cooper were alone, and the storm held them prisoner. When the power went out, Cooper rummaged through the kitchen drawers until he found some cinnamon-scented votive candles. Soon, light warmed the room and their shadows flickered along the walls.

  “I should go,” she said after a while. “It’s getting late. Renee will be worried.”

  “You can’t go out in this.” Concern filled his eyes as he drew her close. His body, strong from hours spent in the gym and thousands of plays on the field, was like hot steel against her. “It’s dangerous.”

  “It’s dangerous here, too.” The candlelight lulled her, and she felt her resistance fading. She murmured breathlessly into his soft cotton T-shirt. “Take me home, Cooper. Please.”

  Instead, he kissed her while thunder crashed around them and lightning rent the room. Soon, the rain rushed down in torrents, filling the gutters so water gushed into the front yard like a river. Inside her, desire flooded over as well.

  Cooper’s mouth demanded, his hands explored in ways that ignited a longing she was powerless to resist...and then suddenly it was too late.

  Afterward they were both deathly quiet...knowing they’d broken a promise to themselves, to each other—to God, and that there was no going backwards, no undoing what they’d done.

  “I love you, Lexi,” Cooper had finally whispered across the darkness—the candles had long since flickered cold, like the chill that seemed to bury itself deep in her bones. His words did little to ease the ache in her heart. “This doesn’t change anything.”

  Oh, but it did. It changed everything.

  12

  Cooper slid into Lexi’s rolling office chair and propped his feet on her desk in a way she’d become accustomed to over the past month. And she had to admit, he looked good relaxing there. He tucked his hands behind his head, showing off the muscular arms he’d spent hours honing to the perfect strength. “So, what’s the bottom line?”

  The eerie hum of air-conditioning fans forced cool air through the office wing. Renee had left ten minutes ago, after sharing a quick and quite promising financial update. Though exhausted from the long day of hard work, Lexi felt a weary smile spread across her face. “The day was a huge success. I’ve never seen so many people line up for autographs! Most of them slipped donations into the jar Renee thought to place on the table, too.”

  Cooper adjusted his huge frame in her small chair, and the springs squealed under the stress of his weight. “Yes, it was a generous crowd, for sure.”

  “The players were so gracious a
nd patient with the kids. They must have signed a thousand photos.”

  “Not to mention the footballs, hats and T-shirts kids carried along, too.”

  “Right.” Lexi ran a hand over one of the neon-green T-shirts Cooper had printed up with the Thursday’s Child logo. The color would certainly stand out in a crowd, adding to the exposure the program so desperately needed. He’d donated three-dozen boxes of them to hand out at the signing—over a thousand shirts. “We won’t have a complete profit report until Monday, but Renee said she thinks we’ve made enough to fund all the summer programs. Now, we just have to work on the building lease.”

  “The lease?” Cooper shifted in the chair and crossed his ankles on the cluttered desk, nudging aside a paperweight. “What’s going on with that?”

  Lexi slipped into the armchair across from him and stretched the kinks from her aching back. “The owners have decided to sell this property when the two-year lease we signed expires in August. We have the first right of purchase, but our funds are seriously lacking. Without a miracle, we’re going to lose the building completely.”

  The chair protested as Cooper sat up suddenly, his eyes dark and serious. “No. That can’t happen.”

  It was obvious he’d become as attached to and protective of the kids as she was. “I hope it doesn’t, but yes, it can happen.”

  “Then what?” His eyes searched hers.

  She shrugged as a lump formed in her throat. She didn’t like to think about the what-if’s, but she knew all too well they were very real possibilities. “We close the doors, unless we can find another location. And believe me, Cooper, Renee and I have spent hours scouring the surrounding area. There’s nowhere else that’s both suitable and within our price range. If there was, we’d have found it by now. We need to come up with a way to buy this building outright, to stay here. It’s a great location...perfect for our needs and the kids’ needs, as well.”