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His mother’s lips twitched slightly. “Mary and Margaret have a different take on it, I’m afraid.”
Dakota grimaced. He’d heard the phone ring earlier this morning and had just been certain it was his neighbors. They’d actually left him and his mom in peace last night. He’d expected Mary or Margaret to launch into a lengthy explanation as soon as his mom had arrived home.
Instead, they’d patted her hand and told her that all would be well now that she was there and tottered off home—after they had stayed to finish the puzzle, and regale him with tales of every puzzle they had ever put together. Boy, had last night been a night.
“I can only imagine what they said,” Dakota muttered, figuring they would get to it eventually. He’d seen that look the sisters had shared when his mom had sat down to help with the puzzle.
“Dakota!” his mother admonished, even though she was forcing her smile away as she spoke.
“Okay, out with it.” Dakota glanced at his watch and decided he had enough time to hear this before he left. If he left. He felt himself wavering as God spoke to his heart.
His mother shook her head. “That she dressed scandalously and embraced you were a couple of their comments.”
Dakota groaned. This was going to take more than a few minutes. It always did when it involved those two ladies.
“Just as I thought.” His mother chuckled. “Why don’t you tell me the entire story?”
“She wasn’t dressed scandalously, Mom.” He sat back and prepared to tell his side of the story. Lifting his cup to his lips, he took a sip of his coffee while his mom waited. Setting it aside, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and began, hesitantly, being careful to be honest but not gossipy. “She looked as if she hadn’t bathed in a month and her makeup was smeared.” He remembered how shocked he’d been at her appearance, how he’d ached wondering what this poor woman had been through. “Her top was askew and one heel on a boot was broken.” He forced his inward gaze back to his mom. “I’ve seen people in similar situations, Mom. Mary and Margaret were simply exaggerating. It was the attack as I came up the porch that threw me, however, and probably what fueled the sisters’ imaginations. The woman told me she wanted to be my sister and then she lunged out at me.”
He shifted uncomfortably. He loved his mom and cared what she thought, but it was embarrassing to tell her about that bit.
His mom didn’t laugh, however. Instead, she frowned. “Your sister?”
He nodded. “We’re not Catholic and she’s not a nun. I would swear her showing up here was simply an accident, but if it is…” He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair in frustration. “What could she have meant?”
His mother rested one hand on top of the other, her brow furrowing as she contemplated what Cody had said.
“Maybe your reasoning is where the problem is.”
“What?” He resisted the urge to glance at his watch. “How do you mean?”
“Well, she hugs you, calls herself a sister…so perhaps you do know her.”
Dakota shook his head. “I haven’t met her before, Mom. I would remember her.”
His mom lifted an eyebrow in a way only a mother can and he squirmed in response. “I meant that she’s a grown woman and in my line of work—”
“Maybe she wasn’t an adult when you met her. Tell me exactly what she said yesterday.”
Dakota felt time slipping away and knew he was going to be late. But, to solve this dilemma he needed to recount the story, find an answer and then see to helping this woman. Chandler’s would just have to wait.
Quickly and concisely, he related all she had said.
Slowly, his mom nodded. “Think back to your teenage years. You were always so generous. Is it possible you told someone they could move in with us and she could be your sister?”
Dakota shook his head, then paused. “I wouldn’t have told any girl she could be my sister, but…”
His mom cocked her head in sudden thought. “There was a little girl, a long time ago. You might not even remember her.” Carolyne paused and studied her son. “She was very special to you. She used to take your side whenever you and your sister would fight.”
Dakota’s eyes widened. The past came flooding back. Something in grade school he remembered. A playground and a little blond-haired girl. They had spit in each other’s hand. It was fuzzy, but he remembered some incident about her leaving and he didn’t want to lose her…“Molly, Marsha…”
“Meghan.”
“Meghan!” Dakota repeated after his mother and leaned forward, shaking his head in disbelief. He hadn’t thought of her in ages. “That’s impossible. It’s been so many years. I wouldn’t know her. She wouldn’t know me.”
“But you did used to call her your best friend.”
“She had blond hair, was skinny.” Dakota shook his head, unable to believe what his mom had suggested. “I don’t remember much except that she liked to make mud pies and we liked to swing on the swing set.”
It couldn’t be, he thought. What would she be doing back here? “Last I heard they moved to Fort Worth.” He paused and then mused aloud. “I always did wonder what happened to her.”
“The young woman is blond,” Dakota heard his mom say. “She called herself your best friend. True, she was inebriated at the time, but be that as it may, whether it is or is not Meghan, there is one thing you do know.”
“What’s that?” Dakota asked as more and more snatches of memories presented themselves about a young girl he’d once known.
“She came to you for help.”
Dakota snapped to attention as compassion flooded him. Contrite, he realized his mom had made her point without chiding him once.
He nodded. “Yes, she did.”
Guilty that he had been in such a hurry, he admitted how wise his mother was. Wisdom came with years and his mom was one of those who had helped guide him and direct him with sage words of advice. She didn’t correct him often, but when she did, she was usually right.
“Excuse me?”
Both mother and son turned at the timid sound.
Dakota had tarried too long, for their guest stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in her outfit of the day before and looking much the worse for wear.
He would have known she was there had she not said anything when the smell hit him.
Yet, his compassion only grew as he saw the fear, embarrassment and reserved look in the way she stood, arms crossed across her stomach as if holding herself against any onslaught they might make. Her gaze shifted to his mom and then back to him.
“I am really sorry but…” The woman’s voice came out hoarse and she winced, then lifted a hand to her head. Hangover headache, he thought.
“Mrs. Ryder?” she asked, though her gaze was on Dakota. Finally, it turned back to his mother.
His mom rose smoothly and crossed to her. “I am—Carolyne Ryder.”
The woman stumbled slightly and righted herself. Her cheeks grew a soft rosy pink though the embarrassment in her eyes reflected self-recrimination.
“I’m so sorry. I should go.” She tried to back away, the embarrassment growing. “I don’t know how I ended up here—”
“Nonsense.” His mother slipped an arm around her to keep her from exiting. She did not once blink over the powerful stench the woman exuded. His mother was full of grace and love—and she always had been.
As they started toward the table, Dakota noticed the woman dragged one leg just a bit and wobbled as she walked. He wondered if she’d hurt herself yesterday when she fell and made a note to call the doctor about it.
“Really,” the young woman continued even as his mother firmly led her to the table so she could sit down. “I didn’t mean to come here, that is—”
“Would you like some coffee? We’ve been trying to guess your identity.”
The woman’s cheeks turned even redder, the color leeching down into her neck.
Dakota couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Meghan?” he asked, needing to know.
The woman stopped dead and then promptly burst into tears.
Aghast, Dakota looked at his mom, who met his gaze over the woman’s head.
What had he said?
“There, there,” his mother murmured and pulled the girl into her arms.
Dakota didn’t know what to do. He prayed a quiet prayer for guidance and allowed himself to slip into his pastoral mode, as he thought of it, caring but detached from the situation.
He observed as his mom held the woman and smoothed her ratty hair, praying quietly for God to comfort the woman and for guidance when she was finally able to talk.
Slowly the woman’s tears subsided.
His mom pushed a tissue into her hand and she wiped her eyes, smearing the leftovers of makeup even worse.
Cody didn’t mind.
All that was left in his heart now was concern and compassion. It didn’t matter how she smelled, how she looked, who she was.
The woman was full of pain and needed someone to talk with.
He saw her dart a glance at him before wiping at her nose and took that as a signal to intervene.
“You are welcome here, Meghan,” he said gently and waited.
Meghan shuddered and took a fresh tissue. She wiped at her eyes again and then, after taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I didn’t mean to show up here. I—oh dear.”
She glanced up at his mom and saw only compassion as Carolyne nodded to her. She straightened her shoulders and pushed away, becoming an isolated tower as she tried to pull dignity about her. “I don’t usually drink,” she confessed. “Until lately. I was so…inebriated that I guess I didn’t realize what I was doing. I thought it was a dream, really. I mean, I came back…”
She trailed off.
Cody steepled his fingers and leaned back, crossing his legs once again. “Why did you come back, Meghan?” he prompted gently when she didn’t continue.
She stiffened.
“It’s okay, Meghan…” Cody’s mother patted her leg, leaving her hand resting there in silent support.
Meghan’s eyes, the beautiful green that he could see today, focused on his mom and tension drained. Finally, she confessed, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
His mom’s eyes turned to and rested in his gaze.
Cody knew that look.
And he knew the signs from the woman in front of him. She was exhausted.
“I am so sorry—” Meghan began.
“Mom, is the electricity on in the garage apartment?” Cody cut in, ignoring the woman’s protest.
His mom smiled, approval in her eyes.
“I just have to flip the circuit breaker.”
“What?” Meghan looked from one to the other.
“You don’t have to say anything more, Meghan,” Cody told her. “We have a place you can stay.”
“Here?” She was genuinely surprised, though he saw sudden hope in her eyes.
Dakota nodded.
“We don’t have a shelter in town.” His mom smiled. “And besides, we have that apartment back there not being used.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—” Meghan began.
“Of course you can.” His mom patted Meghan’s arm. “I’m sure you want to bathe and need time to regroup.”
“But I haven’t even explained why I’m here,” Meghan protested.
Cody could see in her eyes that she wanted to stay, that she didn’t want to explain, and that she needed time to regroup.
Her story would come out in time.
“No need to explain.” When Meghan looked at him questioningly, he shrugged. “God sent you to us. I imagine He knows why you’re here, and if you want to talk later, my mom or I will be willing to listen.”
“You don’t really know me, though,” Meghan whispered.
“We don’t have to know you, Meghan. God only tells us to love you.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes.
His mom nodded and then turned to Meghan. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll see if I can find you some fresh clothes.” She had maneuvered Meghan to a standing position and together they turned and started toward the stairs. His mother continued, “We’ll run a bath and afterward we’ll have some breakfast. I’m sure you’ll feel much better by then.”
As their voices faded, Cody smiled.
That was his mom.
Indispensable.
She knew the right thing to say and do and wasn’t above bullying if the need arose—but in her own gentle way.
He glanced at his watch.
