The dishes were done but Shane was stalling, standing with her hands resting in the soapy water, eyes closed and a very peaceful smile on her face. Technically, what she was doing might have been called eavesdropping, but it wasn't. Three feet away, on the opposite side of the window in front of her sink was her porch swing, squeaking happily to be used. Her mother sat in that swing, alongside the man she had chosen to give her heart to. So technically, it wasn't called eavesdropping, it was called 'caring'. Her eyes were closed, holding back tears which the smile on her lips said were of joy, not hurt. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, loving the moment, loving the joy and the two people on the other side of her window. "Oh God," she sighed softly. "Thank you. I love this man."
From the smallest room at the farthest corner of her mind, came a quiet, "You're welcome." The whisper had started speaking soon after she had started praying, especially when praying while surrounded by explosions. She had known at the time that it wasn't an odd thought or an imagining on her part. It was something else. Mostly because Whisper was brazen enough to disagree with her, and sometimes even tell her "no". The Chaplain she had met while under fire, had shown her the scripture and she had enjoyed it so much, she now paraphrased it and claimed it for herself. "And behold, the Lord passed by, and explosions tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the explosions; and after the explosions was gunfire, but the Lord was not in the gunfire; and after the gunfire was loneliness, but the Lord was not in the loneliness; and after the loneliness was a still small voice."
"Do you understand what is happening?" Whisper asked.
Hands deep in soapy water, Shane listened to conversation outside.
"How do you like living in Denver?" Oliver asked.
"It isn't what I expected at all, not what I'm used to, but beautiful."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, I grew up on the east coast and lived in flat lands my whole life. To turn and see mountains jutting upward at the edge of town is, well, it's stunning." Oliver was leaning back into the swing, his right arm on the backrest and his hand just behind Mary's shoulder. "I love living with Shane, seeing her every day, being included in her life. There is a feeling of completeness to it."
"So what was she like? As a child I mean?" he asked. Mary turned and gave Oliver a one eyebrow up and the corner of her mouth twisted into a smile. "Oh," he said, "I see where she gets that." They both laughed and Mary leaned closer to Oliver so that his hand was touching her shoulder. It was an act of communion and he didn't flinch at all.
"I can see why she likes you," Mary said. "Shane was always stubborn, very curious and very bright. I remember the day that I went into the kitchen and found two dozen roll-up bugs on the floor and Shane with her little magnifying glass studying every one of them. Always way too smart for her own good sometimes."
"It wasn't all humor though, was it?"
Mary stared at the porch, rocking back and forth. "When her dad left, she cried every night for months. That man broke her heart. I could read it in her face for years after, she was wondering what she had done wrong to drive him away. But that was a question she was never able to answer so she blamed everyone else. God took the brunt of her anger. She even yelled at the Pastor at our church during a sermon once and walked out. She has so much love to give but it all got shut away."
The porch swing squeaked and the two sat in silence, listening to the night. "I remember the first time she talked about you just a month or so after she started working there," Mary said. "I was surprised by how open she sounded. That was new. I think she trusted you and it surprised her. Then Christmas came when you rescued her necklace and she really began to relax. I think she was falling in love with you," she whispered the last. "Now, you tell me one, about the work you two do."
Oliver chuckled and gave Mary's shoulder a squeeze. "I remember the day we met and I know what you mean when you say stubborn I wanted to call her Cheryl and not Shane to avoid that one line of dialogue from an old movie."
Mary laughed again. "The way Shane told it, you spoke that line that same day."
Oliver chuffed. "I did, and in so doing proved her penchant for resistance. "Therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo, I fright them.""
"Shakespeare, well said Mr. O'Toole."
"You recognize the Bard. I like you Mary McInerney."
They both laughed and the swing squeaked. "Your story," she reminded him.
"Oh. The first lost letter we worked on together was about a young man wrongfully imprisoned. Shane decided that she was going to get him out. She even quit her job out of frustration and walked out. My favorite moment came half an hour later when she stepped in front of the home where that young man lived and suddenly realized that I was waiting across the street behind her. Watching. The look on her face when she turned and realized that someone had managed to keep up with her was priceless."
Mary laughed out loud and the swing squeaked. "The word she used was 'shocked'. "Tell me of your divine delivery theory?"
Oliver sighed and looked up at the stars. "It took only one letter for Shane to begin to believe, although she resisted for months. But God uses us sometimes in remarkable ways, using lost and damaged mail to work His plan. I think that was the lesson she loved, that God doesn't use perfect letter, He uses the hurt ones. Miracles? Yes, more than once. You coming to live with her is just another example."
"How do you mean?"
"Your illness and surgery, the gift she gave to you, brought you back together. There is a promise there, of sorts. It is recorded in the book of John that when Jesus looked down from the cross, His biggest concern in those closing minutes of agony was for His mother. He told one of His disciples to look after her. That is sort of OliverSpeak – as Shane calls it – to say that you can relax here, you will be cared for and taken care of."
Mary turned to face Oliver. "Do you love her?" Shane laughed softly to herself when Oliver stuttered, sputtered and tripped over a tongue tied firmly behind his teeth. "Have you told her, Oliver?"
"Not in so many words, no."
"Let me give you head's up, Flash. Shane's father was the same way. Never wanted to talk about feelings or face them." She reached out and tapped his chest with one finger. "That is her fear, Oliver, never knowing. Point is, neither you nor Shane come from a Hallmark family," she shrugged. "That cannot be changed but it can be overcome."
The both sat back and let the swing do what swings do for a few minutes. "Who is Flash?"
Mary laughed and gave him an odd look. "Flash the Wonderhound? Never heard of him?"
Oliver just shook his head. "I have been iso – uh. Well in the interest of full disclosure, I isolated myself." He shrugged. "So isolated that it has only been recently that I began watching action movies. So no, I have never heard of Flash the Wonderhound."
Mary laughed loud and leaned into Oliver. "Oh Oliver, so smart, so dumb. Pick any puppy from a litter and name it Lightning and you get the slowest dog from the litter. Ergo, Flash the Wonderhound."
"You just used the word ergo in a sentence."
"Oliver, do you know why computers are so smart?"
"I suspect guile in the question, but the answer is I don't know."
"Because they listen to their motherboards."
"Oh," Oliver mumbled. Then, "Oh!" and smiled.
"Do you understand what just happened?" Whisper asked Shane.
Hands deep in soapy water, Shane wept, nodding.
"What did you hear in his voice when he said, "Oh?"
"I don't know."
"Yes you do. Oliver has never known what it is like to have a loving mother, to sit beside compassion and know peace, to be loved just because he is. Now, what did you hear?"
"He is using the same tone with her that he does when he talks to me," she sniffed.
"Reverence," Whisper said. "Yes, and love. Listen, here comes the best part."
"Oliver, I have seen the way you and my Shane look at each other and I think it would be ok if you called me, "Mom".
Oliver wept and reached to take Mary's hand. Shane left the sink and went to hug them both.