by Lynne Gentry
She climbed into bed and picked up the investment book Saul had given her. She flipped to the inscription written on the title page. Her finger slowly traced the words he’d written.
You can do it, Leona.
First thing tomorrow, she’d prove Saul Levy right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Maxine was wringing her hands and pacing the church foyer when Leona and Maddie walked through the door. “Can I speak to you, Leona?”
“Sure.”
Maxine held a flattened palm between her and Maddie and mouthed to Leona, “Alone.”
Maddie gave Leona a puzzled look. “Are you ill, Maxine?”
“No,” Maxine answered far too quickly. “I just need to talk to your momma for a minute.”
“You’re sweating.” Maddie’s suspicious gaze shuttled between Leona and Maxine’s disheveled appearance. “Maybe I should take your pulse.”
“I have my own doctor,” Maxine snapped.
“Then you should see him. Soon.” Maddie shot Leona a worried look. “I’ll find us some seats, Momma.”
The moment Maddie started for the sanctuary, Maxine snagged Leona’s arm and pulled her into the new mother’s nursing room. “Did you ask Saul to represent me?”
“Have you slept since I saw you last?”
Maxine ran her hands through her stringy hair, her gaze darting between Leona and the open door. “I tried.”
Leona eased the undone woman into a rocking chair. “Let me talk to Howard first, please.”
“No.” Maxine popped up. “If you’re not going to help me get a decent lawyer, I’ll have to handle this myself.” She pushed past Leona.
Leona called after her but Maxine stormed through the foyer and out the front door.
Bewildered about what to do next, Leona adjusted her purse strap and headed for her pew. She walked the aisle, stopping to thank the Story sisters once again for their upstanding transportation service. Of course, she’d be happy to recommend them. In return, they assured her they’d not told a soul as to why they’d activated the prayer chain for David and Amy.
Angus and Ruthie were seated on their pew. The grins on their faces reminded Leona that she still had no idea who’d helped the boy secure his college financing. When Leona reached her new pew, the third from the front on the left, she was pleasantly surprised to see Maddie sitting next to Saul. She tapped him on the shoulder. “Good morning.”
He stood and made room for her. “Good morning, Leona.” Pleasure shone in his eyes. Apparently, he’d enjoyed the fries they’d shared after they left the hospital as much as she. “I saved you a seat.”
Heart soaring, Leona squeezed in next to Saul. Her upper arm tingled against the smooth wool of his suit jacket. They hadn’t been settled near long enough for Leona’s satisfaction when Wilma Wilkerson struck a strong call to worship chord on the organ. Parker Kemp took the podium and invited everyone to stand and join him in praise. Leona couldn’t resist letting her gaze slide across Saul for a glance at Maddie. According to the clock by her bedside, it had been well past midnight when Maddie came in. Maybe she and Parker had worked things out. To her disappointment, Maddie’s face was a blank slate. Not one cotton-picking iota of interest twinkled in her eyes.
Leona’s heart tumbled. She’d lost. Parker was going to Guatemala and Maddie was going to throw her chance of happiness away.
Her eyes still on Maddie, Leona reached for a hymnal. Her hand brushed Saul’s. She pulled back with a start. “Sorry.”
“I’ve got this.” He pulled the book from the rack and turned to the page number Parker had announced. He held out the open book in a manner that suggested he was only too happy to share.
She’d not shared a hymnal since her last Sunday with J.D. Rich bass flowed easily from Saul’s inviting smile. Leona cautiously clasped the corner of the book between her thumb and forefinger and joined her soprano to his.
They were well into the third verse of On Jordan’s Stormy Banks when someone crowded in on her right. “Roy?” Leona asked between clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”
“That rental jeep is a piece of junk.” Roy’s wrinkled dress shirt sleeves were rolled up. Sweat plastered his dirty blonde curls to his forehead. He fumbled with the notes poking out of his Bible. He cocked his head her direction and without looking at her, whispered rather loudly, “David here?”
Leona returned her gaze to the stage. “I don’t think he’s coming,” she whispered.
“He texted and asked if he could make an announcement before my sermon.”
Leona shrugged as best she could with her shoulders pinned between two men. When the song was over, Parker asked everyone to be seated.
Roy and Saul sat first, leaving only a sliver of space between them. Leona shot Maddie a pleading glance, hoping the girl would remember her church etiquette and scoot down to make room. Maddie’s devilish grin indicated she intended to stay right where she was. To manage Leona’s life for a few moments. Which Leona might have been compelled to accept had she not witnessed the great pleasure her daughter was having in seeing her mother wedged between these two men.
Howard climbed the steps to the podium and cleared his throat. Since Leona was the last one left standing and Howard obviously wasn’t going to say whatever it was he had to say until she was seated, Leona had no choice but to wiggle in between Saul on her left and Roy on her right.
Cheeks aflame, Leona kept her eyes on the man in the pulpit. The elder’s bald head glistened under the stage lights. With his close-set eyes and small nose, Howard’s head resembled a bowling ball. Leona didn’t see what Maxine saw in him. Worry that Maxine could probably start a similar rumor about Saul was quickly banished. As long as Maxine needed Saul’s legal services, she’d do everything she could to remain in his good graces. For now, any budding of the relationship between her and Saul was safe.
Leona slid her hand toward her knee. She let her pinky drift toward Saul’s hand resting on his knee. Their fingers touched. Neither flinched at the jolt. With military stealth, Saul intertwined his little finger with hers.
Howard removed a piece of paper from his pocket and smoothed it carefully. “As you know the Story sisters activated the prayer chain last night on behalf of David and Amy. What you may not know is ...”
“What they may not know—” Maxine shouted from the back of the sanctuary. “—is what a low-down sidewinder you are, Howard Davis.”
“Oh no.” Leona released Saul but Roy had her so hemmed in the best she could do was glance over her shoulder. Maxine stood at the back, a big poster board clutched in her hands.
“Tell ’em, Howard,” Maxine shouted. “Or I will.”
Leona’s gaze shot back to the pulpit.
Howard looked up from his reading. “Maxine?” Horror glazed his eyes. His chin fell to his chest. The vein at the side of his temple pulsed as if it was going to explode.
Leona whipped a glance over her shoulder. Maxine had flipped her poster over and now she was holding it high above her head.
I KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE ... was scribbled in huge red letters.
A horrified gasp escaped Leona’s lips as she tried to squirm free. “Maxine.”
Roy clamped a hand on Leona’s leg and held her in place. “Stay out of it, LeLe.”
“I will not.” Leona popped from the pew like a champagne cork.
Roy snagged her arm. “Please, LeLe,” he begged under his breath.
By now everyone had turned in their pews, staring at the crying woman waving her ugly accusations like a matador flag.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out, Howard?” Maxine’s voice had elevated from anger to a hawk’s screech swooping in for the kill. “This is a small town. Sooner or later even the wife finds out what everyone has known all along.”
“Let me go, Roy.” Leona scrambled over Roy’s attempt to block her exit from the row with his big feet. “Maxine. Stop!” She raced down the aisle, gathered Maxine into her arms, and used her body
as a shield from the prying eyes. “Let’s go home, friend.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder. Howard’s whitened knuckles grasped the edges of the pulpit. The color had drained from his face. Torn between whether to stick with the sobbing Maxine or race to steady the shell-shocked Howard, Leona turned toward the pulpit. “Help him.”
Roy jumped to his feet.
“Not you, Roy,” Leona shouted. “Saul.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Maddie had offered to sit with the heavily sedated Maxine while Leona did what she should have done when Maxine first asked, summon her courage to speak to Saul.
Leona held on to the crochet seat cover and leaned forward. “Nola Gay, take the first left into the subdivision.”
Bluebird coughed and sputtered as Leona’s Uber driver slowed to make the turn off the highway.
“We don’t usually go outside the city limits,” Etta May said, her eyes on the Google map she’d pulled up on her phone.
“Charge me extra,” Leona said, offering her credit card.
“You may be rich, Leona”—Etta May gently pushed the VISA back at Leona.—“But you aren’t the only one who can afford to do the Lord’s work.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Cotton and J.D. shared their pharmaceutical investment idea with us,” Nola Gay said. “We’ve got a tidy little nest egg ourselves.”
Maxine was right. In a small town, the wife was the last to know what everyone already knew. “Then why did you buy this used van from Howard?”
“Because we heard that the failing Mt. Hope economy had pushed Davis Cadillac into hard times.”
“You bought this junk heap to help Howard out?”
“We tried to buy a new Caddy but Howard thought we couldn’t afford it,” Nola Gay swerved around a pothole. “A man’s got to be allowed to keep his pride, Leona. He thought he was helping two old women out. We didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.”
“So this whole Uber-driver thing is your way of helping Davis Cadillac stay in business?” Was Howard using their personal funds to keep his dealership out of bankruptcy?
“We do what we can.” Etta May pointed to Saul’s drive. “I think that’s your beau’s cottage.”
“Saul is not my beau.”
“And some claim pharmaceuticals are not a good investment.” Nola Gay eased down the drive and stopped under a big cypress. “Looks like your man’s got company.” She nodded toward the fender peeking out from the edge of a small shed.
“Saul is not my man.”
Etta May yanked the sliding door open. “People often tell themselves whatever they must to help with their grief.” She offered Leona a hand out of the van. “But sometimes the things we tell ourselves are lies. God has brought you a fine opportunity. What you do with it is up to you.”
“We won’t be waiting on you, Leona.” Nola Gay threw the gearshift into reverse. “You’ll have to find another way home.”
“What happened to Dance with the one that brung ya?”
“You don’t want to waste your life dancin’ with two old windbags like us when God’s handed you the perfect fella for spinnin’ you around.” Nola Gay floored it and the tires slung gravel at Leona’s feet.
Leona could hear the twins cackling over the roar of the Bluebird until the black smoke disappeared from sight.
A lizard sunned himself on the stone path that Leona followed to the porch. She knocked on the screen. “Saul?” She waited, listening to water gently lapping the shore. “Saul?” She knocked again, this time casting her gaze toward the dock.
“Ugh.” Saul’s boat was not moored to any of the pilings. “Not the water.”
Leona took a deep breath and navigated the terrace stones. At the lake’s edge, she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Heart thundering in her ears, she scanned the peaceful view. In the distance, she spotted a boat. Two occupants.
She tried waving to get their attention but the shade from the trees made it impossible for her to be seen. She pulled her phone from her purse. No bars. She could wait until darkness forced Saul back to shore. But it was at least an hour until sunset. She didn’t want to risk Maxine waking up and causing Maddie who-knows-what kind of trouble. If she wanted to talk to Saul, she had no choice but to walk the length of the dock and hope that from the platform she could possibly be seen.
She set a tentative sandaled foot on the first board. “Lord, help me.” Keeping her eyes on the shorter man in the boat, she took one step after another and tried not to think about how deep the water was below here. Before she knew it, she was at the deck’s edge. “Saul!” Her voice carried over the water. “Saul!” She waved her arms. The shorter man in the boat waved a towel as a signal she’d been heard.
Standing on the platform, she watched the boat speed to her. Within minutes, Saul was cutting the motor and letting the boat drift on the waves easing it toward its mooring place.
“Howard?” Leona’s surprise at Saul’s fishing partner reached the men before their boat had completely reached the dock.
Howard jerked the bill of his cap over the embarrassment flushing his face. “Leona.”
She’d asked Saul to look after Howard, but she’d meant help him stagger down from the podium, not bring him out to the lake for an afternoon of male bonding. Howard’s prolonged presence could only mean one thing. “Have you hired Saul to represent you in the divorce?”
“Divorce?” Howard’s head snapped up. “What divorce?”
It was all Leona could do to keep from clawing that surprised innocence from Howard’s face. “The one Maxine’s sure you’re going to want after what she pulled today.”
“I want to wring her neck, not divorce her.”
“He’s here at my invitation.” Saul tossed Leona a rope. “After what Howard’s been through, I thought he could use an afternoon of rest and relaxation.”
“What Howard’s been through?” Leona snugged the boat against a piling. “What about poor Maxine? She believes you’re having an affair, Howard.”
“An affair?” Howard’s shoulders deflated. He didn’t move. Just sat in the boat sadly shaking his head. “When would I have the time or the energy to have an affair?”
“Then what have you been doing with the money?”
Even that didn’t perk Howard up and money always piqued Howard’s interest. Instead, he rubbed the bristles of the five o’clock shadow on his face. “Keeping Davis Cadillac out of bankruptcy court.”
What the Story sisters had said was true. The Davis fortune was in danger. Leona’s punctured ire dissipated in a long, pained sigh. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
Howard slowly lifted his head. “You, of all people, should know that you don’t tell Maxine anything she doesn’t want to hear.”
Saul climbed out of the boat. “Come on, Howard.” With a heave, Saul hauled the broken man to the dock. “Drop by the office tomorrow. We’ll work something out with your creditors.”
Leona waited on the dock while Saul helped Howard trudge up the bank and get into his car.
Saul’s face looked none too happy as he navigated the terrace steps and walked the dock where she stood holding the rope to a boatload of questions.
“If you’re going to represent Howard, I guess that negates my reason for coming,” she said.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Saul took the rope from her hand and wrapped it around a metal cleat. “Lemonade?”
She held up a warning finger. “Last time I drank your homemade concoction I ended up dancing on the water.”
Eyes alight with admiration, Saul looked at her feet. “You’re standing pretty solidly on your own.”
Was she? She and the Davises had been at odds since Colton died. While she and J.D. had taken the brunt of Howard and Maxine’s grief, Leona had never wished another loss upon them. Yet, as she watched Howard’s taillights disappear into the twilight, sadness overtook her. The Davis marriage was falling apart. She owed it to
Maxine to do her best to help her pick up the pieces.
Leona surveyed the water surrounding her on three sides. Wind rippled the surface, but the waves in her stomach were beginning to calm. Instead of feeling trapped, a sense of protection enveloped her. She straightened her shoulders and gave a weary smile. “Only by God’s grace.”
“It’s the only way any of us stand.” Saul held out his hand. “Come on.”
She stared at his offered hand. “I think you should know that I came here on Maxine’s behalf. To ask you to agree to become her divorce attorney.”
“I don’t do divorces.”
“And I don’t usually help someone seek the dissolution of their marriage. But I’m at a loss on how to proceed.”
“Have time to sit on the porch?”
“My Uber drivers dumped me and ran. So if you’re not willing to give me a lift back to town, I’ve got to start walking.”
“Wouldn’t get far in those shoes.”
She glanced down at the hemp wedges she’d chosen to compliment her creamy linen capris. “Then you better keep it short,” she said, knowing full-well she’d sit on his porch all night if he was going to open up.
A few minutes later they were settled in two comfy bentwood chairs, a pitcher of lemonade champagne between them. Leona picked at the cheese on the cutting board, determined to wait Saul out for an explanation.
After what seemed forever, Saul rose and sent an apple core skipping across the water. His eyes fixed on where the core had sunk, he began to speak, “Before Claire got diagnosed with breast cancer, we were both very intent on making the most of our careers. No children. No strings to tie us down. But as I advanced, I became less and less likely to take the time out to reconnect. My calls to her were fewer and shorter. I took less leave than I had coming.” He sat, heavy and weary. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his palms as if smoothing out what he had to say next. “So while I was making rank, Claire found someone who would give her the attention she deserved. Three months later, she filed for divorce.” He fell back in his chair. “I was hurt, but thought maybe she was right. That we were better suited apart. And then she got sick. I said, ‘Let your lover take care of you.’ She said, ‘He left.’” Saul stroked the shadowed stubble on his face. “She said, ‘I want to go home.’”