by Carol James
10
Mary read the short note for the gazillionth time, and she was no closer to understanding it than she’d been yesterday morning when she’d found it after they’d kissed under the mistletoe.
I’m going to be off the grid for the next couple of days. I have a previous commitment I can’t change. I already told Diane I can’t make the rest of the practices, but I know you can walk me through everything. I’ll meet you at the church Sunday afternoon.
Love, Jake
Sure, she understood the words. She wasn’t illiterate. She had a Master’s degree, for goodness sake. What she didn’t understand was the hidden meaning behind them.
“Love, Jake.” People threw that word around so casually nowadays. Was that love as in “I love sushi,” “I love doing stuff together,” or “I love you. Will you marry me?” A couple of little kisses under the mistletoe and everything had changed. The fire from last night filled her body again. Well, maybe the last one wasn’t so little. She’d felt more passion in that one kiss than she’d felt in all the kisses she and Drew had shared.
And now when she really needed to talk with Jake, he was gone. The few days they’d known each other felt like years, and she had to know what, if anything, the future might hold for them before she made a life-changing decision. She wanted to make sure her feelings weren’t a reaction to her broken engagement.
She set the note on the table and closed the laptop. So Leslie had changed her mind again, and a contract would be waiting for her at home when she returned. The job she’d longed for and worked toward for four years was now hers. She only needed to place her signature on the paper. The excitement she should feel had been overshadowed by turmoil. Years of waiting, hoping, were ending in confusion. And that’s why she needed to talk with Jake. She still had a couple of weeks before she returned to Atlanta. No decision needed to be made today.
But she did have something else to do today. Buy a Christmas present. And she knew exactly what to get him. She’d gone with Mom many times to get gifts for Dad.
~*~
Mary wound slowly down the road toward the river. She loved this little artsy area with funky shops and unique galleries along the bank of the Brazos. When she’d been a student at Baylor, she’d often come here, gotten a coffee in one of the quirky cafes, and people-watched...when she was supposed to be studying. And it was on one of those outings she’d discovered the Woodworks and told Dad about it.
She parked in front of the old converted barn. A potpourri of wood scents met her as she stepped through the door.
A man with a Santa Claus beard greeted her from behind the counter. “Mornin,’ young lady. How can I help you today?”
“I’d like to buy some chestnut, please.”
“Chestnut? What in heavens are you gonna do with that?”
“It’s a Christmas present for my...for a friend.”
“You can’t just get that anywhere, you know? It’s extinct, after all them trees was killed by the blight. Why in the world would you think we’d have any?”
“My mom bought some here for my dad a year or so ago, and I thought you might still have some. Do you have any left?”
He continued with his discourse as if he hadn’t heard her question. “It ain’t every day some young lady comes in and asks for chestnut. You know them scientists have figured out a way to start growing chestnut trees again? So before too long, we may have some of that newfangled, scientific chestnut. But we ain’t got any yet.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t even dreamed she might not be able to get it. “Do you have any idea where I might get some?”
“Now, hold on here. Did you hear me say we ain’t got any?”
“Well, I—”
“I got some reclaimed, old, wormy chestnut left. Ain’t a whole lot. Maybe enough for a small table or a bench. You still want it?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Reclaimed. How perfect was that!
“You wait here. Be right back.”
As he walked through the double doors behind the desk, relief flooded over her. If it was anything like what Mom had gotten Dad, Jake would love it.
A dolly stacked with beautifully grained wood came through the door before Santa Claus. “Here you go. Let me figure up the price.” He measured the pieces and punched numbers into a calculator. Then he turned it so she could see the display. “There you go.”
She almost choked when she saw the total. “Oh, my. I didn’t realize...I mean, I hadn’t figured...It’s beautiful, but it’s a bit out of my budget.”
“I done told you it was rare. Extinct. What did you think it was going to cost? Twenty dollars?” He shook his head.
“I’m really sorry you went to all that trouble. I should have asked the price beforehand.”
“Yes, you should have.” Santa crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, now that I look at it, it ain’t all that pretty. And there ain’t enough of it to do much with. It’s just taking up space on my shelf where I could put some good cedar. You might be doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. Twenty dollars, it is.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
“You better give me that money before I change my mind.” He winked. “Just promise you’ll bring me a picture of whatever that boyfriend of yours makes with it.”
~*~
The last time she’d sat at this coffee shop overlooking the river was when she’d been working on her Master’s thesis. Several galleries had opened since then. One across the street, Central Texas Artisans Gallery, displayed banners promoting a woodworking show. Jake might really enjoy that. Maybe she’d check it out before she left for home.
He would be so surprised. She didn’t know whether to feel grateful or guilty. She’d definitely bring Santa a picture of whatever Jake made with the wood.
A black truck like Jake’s pulled into the parking lot across the street. Her heart ached. They’d only known each other a short time, but she missed him more than she’d ever missed Drew.
A nicely dressed woman with red hair stepped out of the passenger side of the truck, and then a tall man in a suit with dark hair and a dark beard got out of the driver’s side. Jake.
Involuntarily, Mary stood, ready to bolt out the door and catch him. Then Jake and the woman hugged, and looping her arm through his, she pulled him close, leaned her head against his shoulder, and they walked into the gallery. As Mary slumped back down into her chair, tears burned her eyes. So now she knew. All that joking about cupcakes and icing and kissing with and without beards really meant only one thing. She fell into the “I love sushi” category.
~*~
“Cheryl, I told you I can’t be here tomorrow. I’m participating in a live nativity at church.” A part of him wished he’d never agreed to do this art show, but Dad was only trying to help when he’d arranged it.
“Can’t they get someone else?” She reached up and straightened his tie. “Tomorrow will be a big day, the Sunday before Christmas, and our patrons love to meet the artists. It’s the best way to increase your sales and get custom orders. I only want you to be successful, Jake.”
“I want that, too. That’s why I’m here, so let’s make the best of today.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to sell the burl table?”
“I told you. It’s already sold. Just use it to take orders. You’ll still get your commission.”
She sighed. “Whatever. Now go mingle.”
He loved the making, the creating. Feeling the wood beneath his hands, breathing in the rich, musty aromas, and being surprised when something turned out different from how it had begun. But better.
He hated the selling part. The mingling, the attention put on him, with people expecting compelling explanations about the designs. All he did was discover and expose the beauty hidden inside all the time. God was the designer. What was that poem he’d learned in school about God being the only one who could make a tree? He totally got it now.
“Here’s the artist.” Cheryl had b
rought a couple to him. “Jake Wolesky. Jake, these are the McIntires. They have some questions about the burl table.”
Time to be on. Jake offered his hand to Mr. McIntire and smiled. “Hi. Nice to meet you. How can I help you?”
11
The driveway had been empty when Mary went to bed last night, empty when she woke up this morning, and still empty now after church. She didn’t even want to think about where or with whom Jake had spent the night. He’d been so concerned about how it would have looked to the neighbors if they had stayed in the same house, and yet, he didn’t seem to care in the least what she thought. She’d sure misread him, and she bet Mom and Dad had, too.
At least one good thing had come from this. Her decision about signing the contract was a given. Her emotions had pulled her off course for a brief time, but now she was back on track. She’d been close to throwing away four years of her life for nothing.
Riley ran over to the back door, pressed his nose against the bottom and whined.
“Want out, Ri?” She opened the door, but instead of going toward the yard, he scaled the steps to the garage apartment and scratched on the door. When the door remained closed, he barked. When no one answered, he slumped back down the stairs and into the kitchen. As she closed the door, he nuzzled her hand and whimpered.
“Sorry, buddy. I can’t make him appear.” Nor did she want to. Not only had Jake fooled her, he had fooled her dog, and that was a nearly impossible thing to do.
Time to get the costumes together for tonight. She’d be glad when this was over. She opened the hall closet, removed her robe and headdress, and laid them on the couch in the living room, then she got Joseph’s, Jake’s, costume out and carried it to the couch. It smelled like him. Kind of a spicy-woodsy combination. Her heart ached as she placed it on top of hers. Then she turned on the Christmas tree lights Jake had hung, snuggled into Dad’s chair, and waited.
~*~
Jake walked through the gym doors five minutes before they had to be in costume ready for a run through. How had Mary not noticed how handsome he was before now? Easy. She hadn’t been looking. In her mind, she’d still been engaged to Drew. But a few days ago, everything changed.
“Sorry I’m late. Something unexpected came up.”
She bet it did. “You’re not late. You’ve got five minutes. Your costume is in the men’s dressing room up to the left side of the stage.”
He winked and smiled. “Thanks for taking such good care of me, wifey.”
She winced at his words as he jogged up the aisle to the dressing room. How dare he call her that! A couple of kisses did not a relationship make, as she had come to realize.
He’d pulled his costume on over his clothes and headed back to her with his headdress in hand. “Could you give me a hand here? Seems like you did a pretty good job the other night.” His gaze was warm.
“I think Diane better do it. She may have a special way she wants it done.” Her tone sounded cooler than she’d intended.
Leaning forward, he raised his eyebrows. “Everything OK?”
“Fine. Everything’s fine.”
He nodded. “I realize we haven’t known each other very long, but it’s been enough time for me to know this is not what ‘fine’ looks like on you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Need some help with that headdress, Jake?” Diane rescued her.
“Thanks.” He sat down beside Mary so Diane could reach his head. She tied it on exactly as Mary had done it the other night.
The pastor was up in front talking about how this nativity was the church’s gift to the community and asking if anyone had prayer requests.
The last thing Mary wanted was for her attitude to ruin the production. As they bowed their heads, she reached over and grasped his hand. They hadn’t made any commitment to one another beyond friendship. He was free to do as he pleased. She’d simply misinterpreted his actions. All she had to do was get through tonight, and she’d never have to see him or even talk to him again. Suddenly, she realized that was the wrong mindset. Father, please help me forgive him.
Jake squeezed her hand.
~*~
Mary put the costumes in the laundry room so she could wash them before she returned them to the church. The nativity had gone better than anyone expected. Jake had been a wonderful Joseph. So loving, gentle, and attentive. He had no reason to have been concerned about acting. At times, even she had almost believed he really cared for her.
He stood over the stove making an omelet. When he’d suggested breakfast for a late dinner, she’d wanted to turn him down, but it would be better to get everything out in the open as soon as possible.
“Cheese and veggies OK?”
“Sounds great.” She filled a couple of mugs with coffee. Coffee. The memory of Jake and the red-haired woman surfaced, and she wanted to cry. No, it was better she confront it now before things went any further.
He set the plates on the table.
“Smells wonderful, Jake. Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re welcome. You could have breakfast like this every day, you know?” As he reached his hand across the table and rested it on hers, his eyes sparkled. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Move back to Texas.”
“I need to talk to you about that.” She slipped her hand free. “The assistant principal changed her mind once again and decided to leave after all. So, I’ve got a contract waiting to be signed when I return home.”
“Oh.” He pushed his plate aside. “Couldn’t you find a job like that here? Texas is a big place.”
“Jake, I’ve invested four years of my life waiting on this job, and now I’ve got it. Plus, I’ve given them a verbal commitment, and I don’t like to go back on my word.”
“I get it. Very admirable.” He stood and picked up his plate. “You know, I think I’m more tired than hungry. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head up to bed.” As he walked over, dumped his food in the garbage, and set his plate on the counter, Riley crossed the kitchen and brushed up against his leg.
“Good night.” And Jake was gone.
That was not exactly the reaction she’d expected. He looked truly sad. Tears filled her eyes. He was definitely a much better actor than he gave himself credit for being.
~*~
Jake was wide awake. He couldn’t turn his thoughts off. He’d been tossing and turning for hours and still no sleep. He’d only known her a few days, but it seemed like years. In a good, comfortable way. So far, she had every quality he wanted in a wife. And when she’d kissed him under the mistletoe, he’d been sure she felt the same attraction he did. But he’d sure misread her.
Enough. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. Regardless of the time, he was heading to Reclaimed. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and he’d promised some of the guys he’d be there first thing in the morning so they could finish up the pieces they were working on for Christmas gifts. He just hadn’t planned on three o’clock being first thing in the morning, plus this would give him time to work on some of the custom orders from the show.
But more important, he needed to talk with his Father, and the times he did that best were when he was working with wood, bringing a design to life. In the intricacies of the wood grain and the subtle changes in the hue, he saw God. And he found comfort in knowing that He Who took delight in the smallest details of His creation also cared for and took delight in him.
12
Mary had only been awake for about thirty minutes when the doorbell rang. It was ten o’clock, but she hadn’t fallen asleep ’til about three thirty after she’d heard Jake’s truck leave. Today and tomorrow may be the first Christmas holidays she’d spent alone. She had originally declined when Diane had invited her and Jake to come to her house for Christmas dinner. But she’d call Diane later today and see what she could bring.
She peeked through the peephole. A white van was parked at the street and a red-haired woman stood at
the top of the step. A lump rose in Mary’s throat. Up close, the woman she recognized from the art district looked much older than she had from across the street inside the coffee shop. Well, who knew Jake had a thing for mature women?
She opened the door. “Yes?”
The woman smiled kindly, “Is Jake here?”
“No.”
“Oh. I was supposed to meet him here at ten. We discussed it Saturday.”
“Well, I’m sorry. He’s not here.”
The woman opened her purse, pulled out a business card, and presented it to Mary. Central Texas Artisans Gallery, Cheryl Woods, Director. “If you don’t mind, would you give him this and tell him his Aunt Cheryl doesn’t appreciate being stood up.” She winked.
“Aunt?” Her heart began to race, and deep inside laughter and tears swirled together like the twisted grain of the burl wood tabletop.
“Yes. My much older brother’s his father.” She grinned.
“Please come in. I imagine he’ll be here soon. It’s not like him to be late.”
“I really can’t stay.” Her eyes were hazel with the same golden flecks as Jake’s. “I’m headed to Austin for Christmas. But maybe you could help me get something out of the van.”
Mary followed Jake’s aunt to the van. Cheryl opened the back doors and then removed some furniture blankets from a piece. The burl table she’d seen at Reclaimed.
“It’s not heavy. Just a little awkward for one person.”
Cheryl held onto the top while Mary grabbed the legs and they inched up the sidewalk to the porch and then into the living room.
“This was the first time Jake has exhibited at my gallery, but I don’t think it will be the last. He got a great return for his investment of time these last few days. He sold everything he brought. The only reason this is still here is because it was already sold.”