But Never Doubt I Love

By Felicia Ferguson

See intro for disclaimer.

Sharon and Joe

Sharon watched Joe send Oliver on his way then looked around the front garden and silently counted the number of roses remaining on the bush. They'd need at least two dozen more to fill out the arrangement. Plus several of the hydrangeas.

Grabbing her garden shears, she shook her head. "That's a man who still has a lot on his mind. Does he ever not think?"

Joe chuckled and picked up his own shears, adding to the pile. "The only time I can think of is when he agreed to marry Holly. Most spur of the moment thing he's ever done in his life."

Sharon nodded and headed over the hydrangea bush. "And something he regrets to this day, I imagine. Once burned a thousand times shy."

"Yeah."

Hands on her hips, Sharon stared at the hydrangea bush searching for the perfect blue to add to the arrangement. "For all his good qualities, I still can't see him and Shane together. But I guess opposites do attract." She sighed, pulled a section of the bush back, and began to cut. "And she obviously adores him."

Joe shot her a pointed look as he paused in his cutting. "The feeling is mutual, you know."

Sharon tucked the hydrangeas in the basket and tugged off her gloves. "Yes. I can tell." She flashed a fond smile and set her gloves and shears on the porch steps. "How's the tabernacle coming along?"

"Just waiting on the flowers. Figured it would be easier to decorate it then install the columns." Joe checked his watch then glanced to Shane's front door. "Since it's just going to be us for dinner, do you want to eat before or after setting everything up at the church."

Sharon grabbed the basket from him and started up the stairs. "My stomach's still on east coast time, so we'd better do it now. You do not want to see me hungry."

Joe's eyes widened as his brow lifted. He took a quick step backward, then grinned. "I can only imagine."

They set out the food in a companionable silence, opting to eat once again on the back porch. Sharon pulled the pinot noir from the wine rack and made quick work of the cork. "Wine?"

Joe grimaced and shook his head. "I'm more of a beer man."

She tugged open the refrigerator as he ladled clam marinara over a bowl of linguini. "Oh, well, looks like there's some Coors Light in here."

A delighted smile flickered over his lips. He picked up the second bowl and drowned the pasta. "Shane knows me well."

Pulling a bottle from the package, Sharon shot him an askance look. "How often are you over here?"

Joe chuckled and traded her a bowl for the bottle. "Not very. But we've hung out enough here and there over the last couple of years."

They made their way to the back porch table and settled in. She paused as she watched Joe place the napkin in his lap. Oliver said a blessing over the food at the dinner party. Would Joe want to as well? When he made no movement in that direction, she shrugged and picked up her fork. Guess God skipped a generation.

He sliced into a clam and swirled a forkful of linguini through the marinara. "You have a wonderful daughter." He popped the bite in his mouth and chewed. A fond gleam flickered in his eyes.

She tilted her head and picked up her wine glass, taking a long sip. "Yes, well, one out of two isn't bad."

Joe coughed on his bite of food, but recovered well. He lifted his gaze to hers, cautioned curiosity lighting his eyes. "Yeah, Shane mentioned a while back that she had a sister. Doesn't sound like they're all that close."

Sharon shook her head and absently twirled linguini around her fork. "They were. Before their father left. And then of course Alex got into gambling in college, and everything went downhill from there." She pierced him with a wry frown. "She's in prison because of it."

Joe's brows lifted until they almost disappeared in his forehead.

"Shane didn't tell you?" Sharon heaved a heavy sigh and stabbed at a clam. "Well, I can't say I blame her. Alex broke both of our hearts more than once."

They ate in silence until each bowl was nearly empty. Sharon popped the last clam in mouth, reluctantly admitting she did feel somewhat comforted after the meal.

Joe laid his napkin on the table, grabbed his beer, and slouched in his chair. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Do you ever look back and wonder if you'd change anything?"

Sharon huffed then wiped her mouth and pushed her bowl aside. Setting her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands, she said, "All the time. Not that it does any good."

Joe nodded, but the flash of pain in his gaze made her question his agreement. After a few minutes of silent sipping, he said, "So, I understand the candle thing, but what's with the tabernacle?"

How should I know? It's something people do at weddings. Spreading her hands wide in front of her, she shrugged. "Like I said. It's a sacred space for the bride and groom that no one else can enter."

Joe simply took a sip of his beer ready to wait her out.

After a couple of minutes, she sighed and swirled the remnants of the wine in her glass. The fine sediment clung to the bottom then settled. Maybe there is more to it than that. "Shane's father and I skipped our college graduation to get married in Atlantic City." She shrugged as she shook her head, dry irony lacing her words. "One pink line sealed my fate. Eight months later we named it Alexandra."

She emptied her wine glass, then poured a generous refill. "Shane came along six years later. She was our oops."

Joe's lips flinched, and he leaned forward. "Well, even if Shane wasn't planned, I'm incredibly grateful for her."

Sharon winced. She did love Shane, deeply. And, like Joe, she was tremendously thankful for her as a daughter. But why on earth would you be so grateful for her, Joe?

He glanced around the porch as if seeing their surroundings in a different light. "She's responsible for the relationship Oliver and I have now. She got him to talk to me after fifteen years of silence."

Taking a long sip, she stared at Joe over the rim of her glass. "Ah. Oliver mentioned you'd been estranged."

"Fallout from his mother leaving. Twice. He blamed me, and I let him. . .guess I just wanted him to hold onto the few good memories he had of her."

Sharon studied him, a new and deeper respect filling her assessment of him. "The things we do for our kids."

Joe shrugged, took a long swig of his beer, then fixed her with a steady look. "So, the tabernacle?"

Flustered, Sharon waved a hand as her eyes flicked around the porch. "Oh, chalk it up to wanting better for your child than you had for yourself." With a wry smile, she held her wine glass toward him and lifted her brows.

Joe clinked his bottle against her glass and said, "To Oliver and Shane."

She lifted her glass and sighed. "May they not follow in our footsteps."