ATOP Chapter Thirty-Eight

"Ronnie..." Rachel frowned, wrinkling her nose. "What means... dig a jive?"

"Huh?" Ronnie looked up from the dishes he was drying, his expression utter confusion. "Where on earth did you hear that?"

"It does not matter," Rachel laughed. "I just want to know what it means."

Ronnie considered a moment, pulling off his glasses and polishing them on his shirt, the way he always did when he was thinking. He pushed them back on slowly and shrugged.

"Not all that up to date on weird slang," he shook his head. "Josh told you that phrase, didn't he."

"And what would make you think it was Josh?" Rachel slid a stack of dishes into the sink and searched for the sponge, hidden somewhere beneath the suds.

"Is that a serious question?" Ronnie grinned and tossed the towel aside. "I think it means dancing... something like that..." He reached into the sink and found Rachel's hands. "C'mere..." he spun her in a circle, nearly missed knocking over a chair, and smacked into the table instead.

"Oh, stop it..." Rachel gasped with laughter. "You will wreck the whole kitchen... Ach, Ronnie, Ronnie, stop!"

She screamed as Ronnie sideswiped the counter and knocked over a stack of saucepans... thank goodness they were metal and didn't break... but they made a horrible pounding, rattling clatter, rolling all the way across the floor. Her hands, still covered with soap suds, slipped from his grasp, but he caught her round the waist without missing a beat and guided her out into the living room.

"More room in here," he kicked the rocking chair out of the way.

"Let go of me," Rachel cried, squirming in his arms as he spun her wildly around the room. "You are making me dizzy... Ronnie, stop it!"

He stopped then and she collapsed, breathless with laughter, onto the couch. 

"Did they not teach you to dance, here in America?" she looked up at him, cocking her head sideways. "I always heard America was a wild, uncivilized place..."

"Which is why I had to find me a wife in a civilized place, I s'pose," Ronnie offered a mock bow, still grinning wildly. "A barn in the middle of a blizzard... can't get more civilized than that. 'Cept if you throw in a raging battle... even better."

"Hmph." Rachel tossed her head and stood, poised gracefully. "I shall teach you, you... hooligan." She giggled at the last word, adding "Josh told me that one too. An expressive word, is it not? Almost as good as dummkopf." She reached down to switch on the radio and a Strauss waltz came pouring out. She swayed back and forth, smiling at the music.

"This... this is right. I am so glad that Americans at least play civilized music on the radio. That is a start. Here..." she took Ronnie's hand in hers, lacing her fingers through his, guiding his other arm around her waist before reaching up to his shoulder. "This is how you dance. One, two, three, one, two, three... and do not step on my feet, no, do not dare!" She ducked, rather ungracefully, sidestepping him. "You need some work."

"Well... we have time..." Ronnie glanced out the window at the swirling snow. "We need to compromise this, Rachel... it all needs work. More of this..." And he lifted her off her feet to spin her in another circle. 

"No, less of that and more of this," Rachel laughed as he set her back on firm ground. She leaned forward, resting her head against his shoulder. "Slowly, like this... and less spinning..."

They had stopped dancing now. The radio waltzed on, but they didn't move.

"Ronnie..." She was whispering. He lowered his head to rest his cheek against her hair.

"Hmm?"

"I think I... know. What you need to do, I mean."

"What's that?" 

"To heal the pain. Something to... to help others. Ministry, I mean... that is the word, right? Helping others to fill those empty places in your soul that hurt so bad."

"How so?"

She didn't need to look to know his eyes had gone gray... remembering. She could hear it in his voice and the pain there hurt her just as badly. She didn't speak for a long time, just sheltered in the circle of his arms and prayed... prayed for the haunting memories that surrounded and invaded every moment of their lives.

"Tell them..." she murmured, feeling his arms tighten around her. "Tell them... about Jesus. Go to those who are hurting... the lost, the frightened, the confused, the lonely, the broken... tell them about the One Who can heal their pain with just a touch of His hand... and in sharing Him with others... it will heal you too."

"When God gave me you," Ronnie chuckled. "He blessed me ten times more than I even knew. You're right, Rachel-mine. You're... so right."