“Do you know which is mommy?” John Henry asked, holding the photo an inch from Ruston’s face.
Ruston pulled the picture away and looked at it closely. There were slight differences in the two that people would be able to tell them apart, but for him, it was a feeling. He knew the one on the left but not the one on the right. “This one.” He pointed to that one.
“How do you know that’s me?” Hazel asked from the doorway, her voice husky from sleep.
Turning, he saw that though she was awake, she still looked tired. With her hair messed from sleep and her clothes wrinkled, she was still beautiful. “Because I’m in love with that one, and I don’t know the other.”
“You’re not in love with me, Ruston. You just like to fudge me,” she protested with a grin at her camouflaged wording.
“I do like to fudge you, but I also love you.” He tried to pull her into his arms, but she stepped back from him.
“I’m going to change. Thank you for feeding him. Did you fix my car?”
“Yes, loose wire. Shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”
Then she was gone, and he heard her footsteps going up the stairs, He realized that her bedroom was over the kitchen when he heard her opening and closing dresser drawers. John Henry helped him make the pancakes, and Ruston watched as the boy ate more of them than he had ever expected.
As John Henry ate, he looked at the picture. He chatted about it. He was amazed there was another that looked just like his mom. When he was done eating, he wordlessly took the picture with him as he left the table.
Soon Hazel was coming down the stairs with a different pair of jeans on and an old Garth Brooks concert T-shirt. Her attitude had not improved with her shower. In fact, it had gotten worse. The more awake she was, the angrier she was.
When she got to the dining room, she tossed her phone on the table and said, “Natalie texted ‘things are happening.’ People are talking a lot.”
“I know, we have to talk.”
“You just take your car and go home. I’ll keep low for a while, and it will blow over.” Her words mirrored the ones said in his living room a few hours before.
He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to leave her. He never wanted to leave her. “I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. I think it’s gone too far.” He began to take Sam’s advice.
“Are they going to fire you?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
“Probably,” he lied. He hated doing this to her.
“I can talk to them. I’ll say you stayed on the couch, that nothing happened.” He could see her mind racing, coming up with a story everyone would believe.
“They won’t believe you,” he insisted.
“Who’s on the board? I know them, I’m sure. I can get them to listen to me.”
“No, Hazel. They’ve given me two options.” He did not want to do this. Lying to her was the last thing he ever wanted to do to her.
“What are they?” She sat down in empty John Henry’s chair.
“I can leave, or we can get married.” He full-out lied to the woman he loved, and he hated it.
“Where will you go?” Her words were forced, and he hoped she wasn’t going to have a panic attack. Until that moment, he hadn’t even thought about it.
Quickly, he steered the conversation to staying here. “I want to stay in Landstad. This is my home. Which means that I think we should get married.”
“I can’t be a preacher’s wife,” she stated firmly.
“If I leave, it will be on my record.” He had no idea what he was talking about.
“So, it will follow you forever?” She chewed on her lip as she thought about it.
“Yes,” he lied again, sitting in the chair closest to her, working at not touching her.
“But I don’t want to marry you,” she said with little conviction. Was it that easy to change her mind? To get her to do what she didn’t want to do just minutes ago?