Welcome the Task

By Michele Bartmess; as told by Annette Giles

Previous Installment

Chapter 2

Synopsis: Jennifer Miles is disquieted by a discussion with Steve Rey, a young man whom she has been dating, who tells her he is not ready to marry. Although she is in no hurry to marry, for she is convinced that there is something else she must do first, his attitude worries her. Her parents sense that Jennifer is uncertain about several things and suggest a trip to visit Bea McPherson, a recently widowed cousin, in Houston, Texas.

Jennifer settled herself in the luxury of the beautiful home that John McPherson had left his wife. The air conditioning felt too good for words to express. Jennifer commented on the beauty of the large, exquisite home.

“Yes,” Bea said, “it is lovely. While John was alive it was full of happiness and sunshine, but now it seems too big and too lonely, although I would hate to give it up.”

It was obvious to Jennifer that the oil business was a prosperous one, for the furnishings of the house and the grounds left nothing to be desired, although the comforts of her family home in Springville appealed more to Jennifer’s tastes.

“Do Randy and his wife spend much time with you?” Jennifer asked, referring to John’s older son by a previous marriage, whom Bea had reared along with a younger boy Dean, who was serving a mission in Taiwan.

“Oh, yes,” Bea’s face lit up. She had been twenty years old when she married John. Randy had been seven and Dean scarcely four. It had been a challenge, accepting a ready-made family at that age, but with the help of the gentle widower whom she loved so much, she had been an ideal mother and both boys loved her dearly.

“Randy and Paul are expecting a baby,” she announced excitedly.

“Why, that’s wonderful!” Jennifer exclaimed. “When?”

“In November. Can you imagine me a grandma?” Bea drawled in her soft Texan voice.

It was hard, indeed, to imagine Bea as a grandmother. She was thirty-six years old, and looked and seemed even younger. She wore her naturally blonde hair short, and always looked as if she had just stepped from the beauty salon. Although there was now a tinge of sadness in her soft, blue eyes, they still sparkled mischievously, and a pleasant smile played at her eyes and ips. She had a delightful sense of humor, and her first thoughts were always of someone else.

“I hate to give up this home, because it has always been the boys’ home and they have so many pleasant memories here, as have I, of course. It is roomy for certain,” she said, gesturing about. “Perhaps they can both fill it with grandchildren, then it will be more tolerable.”

Jennifer smiled. How sad that Bea had not had her own children. “Did it ever bother you that this home was built for someone else?” Jennifer ventured to ask, with some curiosity.

“Oh, no,” Bea said. “I was so impressed with it after the first time I saw it, nothing else ever mattered. And if you are about to ask if I ever had problems because of John’s first wife, the answer is no, even though I was very young. So many women think that they have or would have a problem, because they are afraid of being compared to someone else, and they aren’t certain of their husband’s love. That’s not the way it should be. I know John loved Emily deeply. But he also loved me, for my qualities, the person I am. I was young and made mistakes, and had some growing to do, but John was always patient and kind. He never said anything about Emily doing things differently, although we spoke of her often.”

Bea stopped for a moment, and Jennifer could think of no appropriate comment, so remained silent. “I can live with this loss,” Bea continued thoughtfully, “because I know that John is happy with her there, and together they will welcome me when my time comes. Which shouldn’t be for a good long time yet,” she added brightly.

Jennifer was moved by what she considered a beautiful testimony of real love. “I know she will love you Bea, for everything, but especially the marvelous job you have done in rearing her sons.”

“And I’ll love her for leaving the sons I could never have, to be reared.” Bea smiled. “I hope you brought your bathing suit,” she said, pointing toward the pool which looked so inviting.

Jennifer was somewhat awed by the many things there were to see and do in the large city. She could not imagine two million people existing much the same way a few thousand did in Springville. But, for the time being, Jennifer was enjoying the change very much.

“Tell me about your young man,” Bea suggested, one afternoon as they relaxed by the pool.

“Well,” Jennifer said, “what would you like to know?”

“All you are willing to tell, his general description, and how you met, how things are looking. I’m not prying, I’m just curious.”

“I’d like to tell you, even if you were prying,” Jennifer told her cousin fondly.

“I like romance stories,” Bea answered with a twinkle in her eye, looking young and eager.

“Well, in that case, we had better go in and turn on the television,” Jennifer told her. “You are likely to be disappointed.”

“I’ll risk it,” Bea said.

Jennifer began her story reminiscently. “Well, I met Steve after I had been in England almost a year. He was my district leader, and I could tell right off that he was older than the other elders. I discovered later that he had been drafted just after his first year of college, and before a mission call could come. I had a keen sense of what is right and wrong, so I avoided the very appearance of evil, as they say. It seemed hard at times, for he was my immediate supervisor.”

“This sounds exciting,” Bea interjected with a smile.

“I was impressed with his qualities as an elder, and as a person, so I avoided him whenever possible, although I didn’t really think he even knew I was alive. As luck would have it, we were both transferred into the mission home at the same time, and the night he left, we had sort of a farewell testimonial for him, and afterwards he said to me very seriously, ‘Sister Miles, when I get home, if I wrote to you, would you write back?’ I could hardly believe my ears, but assured him I would, and I did. So for about eight months we corresponded quite regularly, and when I got home he started dating me.”

“This is exciting,” Bea said with enthusiasm. “Well, go on. Tell me what he is like.”

Jennifer’s thoughts flew back to the night of their discussion. She had seen hm twice more after that, before she left Springville. They had both been involved with final examinations, and she had left soon afterward. On these subsequent dates, nothing more was said, although Jennifer felt that there was a definite strain on the relationship. There was nothing she could put her finger on, for she had grown accustomed to Steve’s quietness, and his manners were always impeccable. Somehow, she felt dissatisfied, or perhaps disenchanted, she wasn’t sure.

“Well, Bea, he’s quiet – and that isn’t an understatement. The strong silent type, you know. He is very considerate, and has excellent manners. He is very intelligent. He is majoring in journalism, but I think he intends and hopes to be a fiction writer, and he plans on working toward his master’s degree. He is twenty-seven, hard working, yet easy going.

“I am impressed,” Bea commented. “And I suppose he is superbly handsome.”

Jennifer smiled. One thing she could recall vividly was Steve’s looks, and it set her heart to beating a little faster. “Well, he played football on the official United States Marine Corps team for a start. He’s of Scandinavian descent. According to him he is five feet twelve inches tall. He has sandy blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, and a terrific smile. I have a picture of him in the house.”

Later that afternoon Bea spoke with Randy on the phone. After she hung up, she asked, “Jenny, would you like a date to the Astrodome to see the Astros play the Dodgers?”

“With whom?” Jennifer asked.

“A friend of Randy’s. His name is Dick Craddock. He and Paula and two friends and their dates are going.”

“It sounds exciting,” Jennifer said sincerely. She liked and understood baseball, and Steve had insisted that she get to the Astrodome. She wasn’t sure he would quite approve of the circumstances. On second thought, she decided, it probably wouldn’t bother him in the last.

Jennifer confided in Bea about her conversation with Steve, and the older woman’s only advice was not to hold her breath waiting on a man who had excuses against marriage, no matter how valid they might be, unless, of course, she simply couldn’t live without him.

Jennifer explained how she felt that there was something in her own life to attend to, before she was ready for marriage, although she did not know what it could be, for she had served her mission, and was well on her way through school.

Bea laughed kindly. “Jenny,” she drawled, “you are a very level-headed young lady, and I’m meaning to pay a compliment by that.”

The morning of Jennifer’s date to the Astrodome, Bea commented that she didn’t look as though she had slept well.

“Well,” Jennifer confessed, “I kept having these horrible nightmares about Dick. In one he was so suave and sophisticated, and plain good-looking that I felt terribly uncomfortable and out of place. Then, in the next, he was at last a head and a half shorter than I am. Oh, Bea, don’t you know anything at all about him?”

“Now, Jenny,” Bea said sternly, “you know Randy better than that. I’ve never met Dick, but Randy speaks well of him, they are associates in the oil business. Dick is well-educated, a returned missionary, and probably a very nice person. And, young lady, there is no reason why you should feel out of place with a handsome man. End of lecture.”

While Jennifer did trust Randy, she tarried in getting ready, and needed perhaps fifteen minutes after Paula, Randy, and Dick arrived. Bea was entertaining them all when she finally descended the stairs.

At least her nightmares had been unfounded. Dick was older than she had thought he would be, around thirty-five. He was pleasant, with brown hair and brown eyes. His glasses became him. There was something about him that Jennifer could not quite describe, but later she decided that he looked as if he carried a great sadness within him, although he smiled nicely.

The game was exciting, finally ending in an extra-inning, one-run victory for the hometown team, much to the delight of the fifty thousand plus who cheered wildly. The immense Astrodome made quite an impression on Jennifer. Any sport could be played in any weather, plus housing cultural and religious events. It was truly a twentieth century edifice.

The company she was with was delightful, and Jennifer could hardly keep her eyes off the third young couple in the party. Jim Long was one of those young men girls dream about, with dark skin, thick dark hair, sparkling blue eyes that laughed constantly in a teasing, flirtatious way. When he spoke, Jennifer could see why. He was studying law, and, in the meantime, worked as a radio disc jockey. She thought that television might suit him better, for the audience rating of women would soar.

Of course Jennifer had to concede that he was with an equally attractive blonde, who was obviously bored with baseball. he devoted much of his attention to Jennifer. Dick seemed not to mind in the least his flirting with Jennifer, and Jennifer could hardly resist the temptation to be flattered and impressed with Jim.

When they arrived home, much later, Bea was reading in bed. As Jennifer passed by and peeked in, Bea called, “Hi, dear, did you have a nice time?”

Jennifer dropped herself despondently on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Bea, I just did the worst thing a girl can do. If I had any brains, I’d be dangerous.”

(To Be Continued)