When Mountains Sing

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When Mountains Sing Page 25

by Stacy Monson


  His dark eyes were shiny, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled for words. “I’ve done some practicing myself,” he managed. “Challenge accepted.”

  Something heavy fell away from her heart as they smiled at each other.

  Lindy and Mom looked at them, waiting.

  “One thing I haven’t told anyone yet,” Mikayla said, “is that Ted called last week to say the board is reconsidering my proposal.”

  “What? That’s fabulous! It’s about time.” They all spoke at once.

  “I don’t know what it all means and, to be honest, I’m not sure I want to go back to the magazine. There’s a lot to think about. I’ll meet with Ted after the wedding and get more details. Just thought it was fun news.”

  “Very fun.” Lindy squeezed her hand. “You amaze me. I can’t imagine how you write such beautiful words, take fabulous pictures, and stay so humble. I’d be a total diva.”

  They laughed at the accuracy of her statement.

  “Will you still love me if I am?” Lindy asked Mikayla, a twinkle in her smile.

  “Of course, but I’ll have to knock you down a peg or two when we’re together.”

  “And I’ll appreciate it. After the fact, of course.”

  By the time they’d finished dessert and left the restaurant, Mikayla was able to walk beside Dad with a peaceful heart. There was a long road of healing ahead, but this was a start. Now if she could stop missing Dawson, she’d face the future with more anticipation.

  ~ 35 ~

  The following week was filled with activity, laughter, meltdowns, and hugs. Mikayla ran errands, fixed broken heels, and assured Lindy everything would be fine before running more errands. Her heart ached to be outdoors, for peace and solitude instead of endless chatter, to-do lists, and decision-making.

  Not yet ready to be alone with Dad, she’d gone fishing on her own several mornings. In the early stillness, she’d listened intently. The lake didn’t sing to her, but instead whispered to her heart. It wasn’t life in the mountains, but it was good.

  Every evening she settled into bed with Lula beside her and the Bible from Dawson on her lap, eager to discover something that would encourage her, challenge her. There was always a nugget or two to ponder, and she longed to share it with him.

  By Friday afternoon she’d ignored the persistent niggling long enough. She’d dreaded this conversation to the point of nausea, but it was time, whether she was ready or not. She parked in front of her parents’ house and sat for a moment to quiet her pounding heart. “Ready, Lu?”

  At the front door she closed her eyes, whispering a prayer for calm and for the right words, then pressed the doorbell with her shoulders back and chin lifted.

  The door swung open, and her mother smiled in surprise, then her face crumpled. “Oh, Mikayla.” Tears in her eyes, she held out her arms, and Mikayla stepped into the hug, Lula prancing around them on two feet. As her mother released her, she stepped back, eyes burning, and managed a pained smile.

  “Come in, please.” Mom backed up so Mikayla could enter and bent to pet Lula. “Hello, Lula. I haven’t seen you since you were a new puppy.”

  Mikayla sank down on the couch, grateful for Lula’s presence. How would she have managed all these months without her? An image formed of Pal, the hulking black German shepherd, cowering before this bossy pixie. Her guard dog. And her best friend on a bumpy ride.

  “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Can I get you a cup?”

  Mikayla started to decline, then nodded. “Sure.” When Mom returned, she accepted the mug and pulled in an appreciative breath. “Mmm. Smells great.”

  “From a new coffee shop we found.” Her mother settled in a chair and took a sip. “Just the right blend for us. Not too strong.” She offered a shaky smile. “Thank you for coming over.”

  Mikayla nodded. “A lot has happened this summer.”

  “Mmhmm. Nothing will be the same, will it? But I think it will be better now.”

  Better? Mikayla cocked her head. “Perhaps.”

  “Your father and I have done a lot of work these past months. I’ve been so thankful he was willing to stay and work on our marriage. It was long overdue. We excel at avoidance, and there were things we needed to face from thirty years ago, as well as current issues.”

  “He said you’ve been going to church.”

  Her pale face lit, a sparkle in her blue eyes. “We found a wonderful church not far from here. It’s changed how we see life and each other. And the three of you.”

  They finally had something in common. “That’s great. Faith has become important to me too.”

  “I’m glad. That’s something good that’s come from all…this.” She set her mug down and folded her hands in her lap. “You didn’t respond to my email, but I’m assuming you got it?”

  “I did.” She’d never figured out what to say. “I appreciated your honesty.”

  “Everything is out there now, honey. No more secrets.” Her eyes filled. “I’m so sorry I created such a mess and didn’t own up to it until it was too late.”

  “It’s easier to ignore the hard stuff,” Mikayla conceded. “I’m guilty of that too.”

  Mom blinked the tears away and nodded. “It’s hard to be honest, but it’s much harder dealing with the fallout.”

  “And now we know that from experience.”

  They sat quietly, Lula snuggled on her mother’s lap. Mikayla looked around the familiar living room, memories popping out of corners, sweeping down the stairs. Family times. The angst of three teenage girls. Games and holidays and meals.

  “Tell me what you’ve learned this summer,” Mom prompted.

  Mikayla leaned back, releasing a long breath. “What I’ve learned. Boy, there’s been so much. I guess the first thing is the importance of DNA.”

  Her mother flinched.

  “My primary DNA comes from God.” Thank you, Dawson. “I’m a child of God first. After that come my human genes. When I left here, I had taken on those human genes as my identity—illegitimate, unplanned, a mistake. While I was on my search, I learned that where those genes came from doesn’t define me. That was pretty huge.” She smiled. “I’m learning to be comfortable in who God made me.”

  Fingers pressed to her lips, blonde head bobbing, Mom tried several times before words formed. “My mistake never defined who you are. You’ve done that, and it’s been wonderful to watch.”

  “But you never liked who I was.” Saying it aloud pinched.

  “That’s not true.” Setting Lula on the floor, Mom sat beside Mikayla on the couch and touched her arm. “Mikayla, you were a miracle to me. The whole pregnancy, labor and delivery, bringing home a child I’d birthed. I never thought I’d have that experience. Every moment was wonderful. But the funny thing was that from the beginning, you gravitated toward your father.

  “Nothing I did seemed to work for you. If you were upset, he was the one who could comfort you. When you played with toys, you didn’t want anything I chose. While Maggie loved books, and Lindy loved dolls and girl things, you preferred physical activity. And you loved being outside. I was torn between two girls who loved being in the house and one who wanted out all the time. I’d have to drag you in kicking and screaming at night. And bath time?” She waved a hand with a laugh. “Only if I bribed you.”

  “Sorry.” Mikayla grinned. “I like baths now.”

  “You were so comfortable just being you.” She smiled at memories Mikayla couldn’t see. “You knew exactly who you were and what you wanted. And I felt so…” Her smile faded. “Inadequate.”

  Mikayla’s jaw fell. “You?”

  “The stronger you became in who you were, the less adequate I felt. I knew how to communicate with Lindy and Maggie, but it seemed I was an afterthought for you. Off you and Dad would go on your adventures and come back happily dirty, sharing inside jokes. I never knew what I did wrong.”

  Who was the child she was describing? “But…that’s not who I was. I never fit in.
I felt so inferior next to gorgeous, perfect Lindy, and Brainiac Maggie. The only things I was good at weren’t girl things.”

  “Oh, honey, you were the one who knew what you liked. Lindy always worried about what her friends were wearing, how they did their hair, what makeup they wore. She’s grown into a self-assured young woman who has a flair for creating her own trends, but that was never her while you were growing up.”

  Mikayla stared across the room, seeing her mother trying to braid her hair while she fumed at the interruption to her outdoor plans. Her mother waving her and Dad off on an adventure, a strangely sad expression in her eyes.

  “It was when you hit your teen years that you started to question yourself and your interests,” Mom continued. “Those were tough years to be blazing your own trail.”

  Their eyes met, and they smiled at the choice of words.

  “I was off blazing a trail,” Mikayla agreed, “but as lonely as a kid can be. I made my first real friend this summer in Colorado—a woman like me who loves being outdoors.” She smiled wistfully. “We had so much fun.”

  Mom returned to her chair and squared her thin shoulders. “Honey, about Kenny. I very rarely thought of him while you were growing up. I hadn’t known him very well.” Her cheeks blazed pink. “I realize that doesn’t make you feel better, but I want you to know I never spent time wondering if you were his. You were so like your father—same sense of humor, love of the outdoors, fearlessness. You idolized him and he adored you.”

  A shadow darkened her face. “This summer was so hard for him. From finding out you’d gone without saying goodbye, to the reason why, to coming to grips with the mess we’d made of our marriage—he really struggled. We both did. Finding a good counselor and going back to church literally saved our marriage and helped him regain his footing. I’m sure his emails were difficult for you. Especially the last one.”

  Mikayla glanced away. “You saw it?”

  “He showed me every email he sent, and I showed him mine. He cried when he sent that one.”

  She hadn’t responded to that either.

  “We’ve all learned the importance of honesty in a relationship,” her mother added. “The truth will always come out, but we can do damage control by owning our mistakes, asking forgiveness, and working through the fallout. It breaks my heart that we all had to learn that the hard way.”

  They certainly had.

  After a lengthy silence, Mom stood. “Let’s go bake some cookies before your dad gets home.”

  Mikayla met her gaze, a smile forming. Making cookies had been the one thing she’d loved doing with Mom. “Sounds good.”

  As they measured, mixed, shaped, and baked, Mikayla shared snippets of her Outlook experience. The memories made her smile even as her heart ached. Mom asked questions, shuddered at the thought of camping on the mountain, and smiled proudly when Mikayla mentioned beating the guys at some of the staff contests.

  While they laughed over Lula’s antics at their feet, the door opened from the garage.

  “Something smells great in here,” came her father’s voice. “And it sounds like I’m missing the party.”

  He stepped into view and stopped when he saw Mikayla. His hesitation broke her heart. Hands sticky with dough, she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her head. “It’s about time my fishing buddy came home.”

  She leaned back and managed a wobbling smile. “Prepare to lose, Pops,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Remember, I’ve been practicing.” Then he sobered. “Mikayla, you’re the light of my life. Nothing will ever change that. God blessed me with three beautiful, amazing daughters, and I will be forever grateful.”

  His assurance, mirroring what her mother had told her, brought a fresh rush of tears as she nodded. “And I’m blessed with the best dad ever.”

  “We’re good?”

  Her smile bloomed. She glanced toward her mother, who watched with tears brimming, and nodded, pressing against him. “We’re all good.”

  Mikayla had sent a brief email to Dawson when she arrived home, then stayed away from her computer to avoid the urge to keep the conversation going. The wedding had forced her to come home, but depending on what Ted had to say, she might not have the chance to return.

  Tonight, however, she needed to connect with him. She’d enjoyed baking cookies with her mother, and then having dinner with both parents, something she’d been sure on her journey she’d never do again. Now she sat in the quiet of her bedroom and toyed with the phone as Lula snored quietly on her tiny bed.

  He’s probably on the mountain, or busy hanging with the team. She set the phone aside, got ready for bed, then slid under the covers and opened her Bible, Lula now nestled beside her. When she’d read the same passage three times without remembering a word, she snatched the phone and called him. Part of her prayed he wouldn’t answer—

  “Hey! Mikayla!”

  The joy-filled greeting knotted her throat, and she struggled to answer.

  “Kayla? You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. It’s just good to hear your voice.”

  “It’s great to hear yours.” The smile in his familiar voice warmed her heart. “What’s been going on out there in Minnie-sohtah?”

  She giggled and relaxed against the pillows. “It’s been crazy. I want to hear what’s happening out there first. Has the camp fallen apart without me?”

  They traded news and laughter, the old banter filling her heart with a joy she’d ached for. When she related the conversation with her mother, he grew quiet.

  “Wow,” he said finally. “I’ve been praying for God to create a way for you to reconnect with them. I’m blown away that it’s already happened.”

  She should have known he’d be praying. “I thought maybe we’d somehow start a conversation that would take a while to unfold, but the way it happened, it had to be God directing it. We cleared up a lot of misunderstandings. And I’m going fishing with my dad tomorrow morning, which will give us a chance to do the same.”

  “Then I’ll pray about that conversation too.”

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes, longing for just a whiff of mountain air. “God changed me this summer, and you were a big part of that. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

  “That was never an issue, Kayla. Every conversation we had was great. I learned a lot from you too.”

  She laughed. “Like what?”

  “Like a fancier way to filet a fish. And the best way to throw a hatchet.”

  “And don’t you forget where you learned it. Well, I’d better turn in. We’re heading into the final week, and there will be a million things to get done. Mainly it’s about keeping Lin calm and sane until Saturday. After that it’ll be Beau’s problem.”

  His chuckle sent bumps along her arms. “I’m sure you’ll excel at that. Thanks for calling, Kayla. It’s a relief to know things are going well for all of you.”

  “Thanks. Say hi to everyone.”

  She lay still in the dark, pressing the phone over her aching heart. She needed to be here—rebuilding relationships, helping Lin, and planning her future. But she wanted to be there—sitting in awe beneath an impossibly black sky glittering with stars, fishing in a clear mountain stream, listening to the mountains sing. With Dawson.

  Turning on her side, she squeezed her eyes shut and listened, straining to hear the music. Almost…

  ~ 36 ~

  During a lull in the activities of the wedding week, Mikayla called Ted to set a meeting date. After settling on Tuesday after the wedding, he shared his new plan for the magazine.

  “We’ve needed to restructure for a while, but I just haven’t had the time to make plans. With this new idea taking shape, however, I made time to look at where we are and where we’d like to go.

  “We’re establishing a Creative Development department to focus on new ideas and identify new markets. They’ll work in tandem wi
th the existing team, so we blend what’s working with new ideas and technologies. The goal is to keep our current readership happy while drawing in a new, younger crowd.”

  “Great plan.”

  “Good, because I want you to lead it. Initially you’ll have an assistant and one full-time staff until we can increase the budget. I know that’s not enough for such a big undertaking, but I also know you’ll pull it off brilliantly. You’ve got the visionary skills, plus the creative talent to run with it.”

  Mikayla stared out the kitchen window, frozen as his words sunk in. He was not just offering her the old job, he was creating a whole department. For her to run.

  “The pay would be substantially higher, of course,” he continued. “We’ll need to discuss whether you want to continue with the column or assign it to someone else. And you’ll have the new mag to work on, assuming the board has come to its senses.”

  “I uh…wow,” she managed. “You really have been doing some planning.”

  “Your proposal and subsequent departure were the kick in the pants I needed to make necessary changes. I think the new plans have energized the board.” A muffled voice in the background interrupted. “Mikayla, my next appointment is here. Think about what I said, see what ideas come to mind, and we’ll talk next Tuesday. I can’t wait to get started. Enjoy the wedding!”

  She barely managed a response before the call disconnected. Wait—what just happened?

  “Hey, Mickie, could you look at… What’s wrong?” Lindy stood in the kitchen doorway, a necklace dangling from her fingers. Her brow lowered. “Who was on the phone?”

  Mikayla opened and closed her mouth as she tried to absorb the conversation. “Ted. That was Ted.”

  “Did he offer you your job back?”

  “Yes. No. He’s creating a new department and wants me to run it.”

  Lindy squealed and flung her arms around Mikayla. “Yes! It’s about time they recognize your talent and importance to the magazine. Are you excited?”

 

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