“I promise it won’t be like before. This one’s closer to your age, and she works in D.C. In fact”—Brooke leaned in to whisper—“she’s the campaign manager for Paul Cromwell. You know who he is, right?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Prominent senator from Texas, known for his conservative stance on several controversial issues. He’s on FOX News all the time. And CNN, too. There are rumors Andrea’s going to become his chief of staff in a few months, so we’re talking big stuff here.” Brooke winked. “I know how conservative you are. You two are politically perfect for each other.” She jabbed Darren in the arm and he groaned.
“Oh, great. Is that how we’re choosing mates now. . . according to their political stance? Is that how you and Jason fell for each other?” He put on his best newscaster voice and said, “And now, ladies and gentlemen—broadcast live from Newark, New Jersey—an interview with Brooke Antonelli and Jason Kaufman, political romanticists. They’re here today to tell you the story of how they met during a nationally televised debate over opposing solutions to rising gas prices.”
He shifted his gaze to Brooke, who laughed. “Actually, Jason and I have differing opinions on that,” she said. “You know me. I’m a nature lover. I want to save the animals and their nature preserves. But Jason. . .” She laughed. “Well, he just wants to know why he has to pay through the nose for gas just so that the caribou can have the extra space to roam around. He says they’re not going to know the difference anyway.” She sighed. “He didn’t take well to that Save The Caribou sticker I put on my car.”
Darren laughed. “You’ve got a soft heart, even when it comes to animals. That’s one of the things Jason loves most about you. I know, because he told me.”
“Aw.”
Darren paused before adding, “Yes, but I have the opposite problem. I have yet to meet a woman with a soft heart. Most of the ones I get close to turn out to be edgy. Harsh. No soft edges at all. And a woman with political ambitions?” He shivered at the very idea. “I can only imagine. Give me a sweet woman. That’s all I’m asking for. . . . Well, that and she has to have a great relationship with the Lord.”
“She’s out there. I know it.” Brooke gave him a sympathetic look. “But don’t be surprised if God brings you someone with some spunk, Darren. After all, you’re as soft as a marshmallow. If you fell for someone just like yourself, where would the fun be?”
“Fun?” Darren snorted. “So, I should look for someone who is my polar opposite?”
“No, I’m just saying you don’t have to have everything in common to love someone. And I’m not saying that’s how you should choose a mate, per se. You ask God for His perfect will and go from there. But you’ll never know if she’s the one for you if you don’t at least meet her. Her name is Andrea Jackson, by the way. My friend who works for the senator, I mean. She’s great.”
Darren groaned. “Okay, so when is this date you’re setting up? And where do I take this politically-conservative-Andrea-person? Not a fancy restaurant, I hope. Someplace quick. Fast food. Then if things don’t work out, I can scoot on out without hurting her feelings.”
“You’re such a man.” Brooke rolled her eyes as she reached for her bag. “You’re not taking her out for fast food. And you don’t even have to go out with her at all, if you don’t want to. But if you don’t, you’ll be missing out on an evening with a great woman. Did I mention she’s a knockout, and she loves the Lord? She also does a lot of public speaking and heads up a ministry that reaches out to children in inner-city housing projects.”
Okay, he had to admit. . .that last part held some appeal. Not that he minded her political leanings. They jived with his. It just seemed odd to date a woman that someone else had picked out for him. Made him feel incapable of doing it on his own.
Brooke continued, oblivious to his thoughts. “Andrea’s about as close to ideal as you’re gonna get, next to me. And I’m already taken.” She gave him a playful wink.
Darren followed her, his rolling bag clop-clopping behind. Ugh. Broken wheel. He had to remember to pick up a new bag.
And while he was at it, he’d pick up a new love life, too. The one he had right now. . . ? Well, it just didn’t appear to be working.
THREE
Candy walked along the boardwalk at sunset, each step drawing her closer to her family’s candy store. When she caught a glimpse of the sign, her heartbeat quickened. Thank You, Lord. Feels so good to be home.
She entered the shop and found a handful of people lingering inside. Hmm. Not bad for an evening crowd. Then again, her older sister, Taffie, had been telling her about the family’s boom in business for a while now. Things are really hopping around here.
From across the counter, she watched as Taffie helped a customer with his order. Caramel apples, to be precise. And a half pound of taffy. Candy could judge the weight of the bag from here. Years of working in the store had made her an expert.
She shifted her gaze to the other side of the store where Taffie’s husband, Ryan, dished up chocolate ice cream—or was that Rocky Road?—and chatted a mile a minute with the customers. Nothing had changed there. He’d always been a social person, and excellent with customers. And his marketing skills had really turned things around at Carini’s.
A customer pressed past her, then offered up a rushed apology. Candy nodded but didn’t say a word. She didn’t mind the crowd a bit. No, now that she’d returned to the place she loved most, she simply wanted to drink in the experience. To let the sweetness that hung in the air permeate her heart. To allow her mind and her somewhat overactive imagination to reel backward in time, to the many, many years she’d spent playing and working alongside her parents and sisters in this familiar place.
Oh, what sweet memories. Literally. As a youngster, she’d loved walking along the edges of the candy case, staring at the delectable goodies inside. They still wowed her. She glanced at the rows of creamy maple fudge and the tiny mounds of white divinity. Her mouth watered as she took in the rows of sticky caramel apples and the rock candy. “Mmm.” She could almost taste it all from here.
And the sounds! There was still something about the joy in the customers’ voices that made her grin. Who could blame them? Candy always made people happy.
Candy always makes people happy. Her mind tumbled backward in time again. She could almost hear Grandpa Gus’s jovial voice as he teased her out of a childish sour mood. “ You have to live up to that name, honey. As much as you are able. . .make others happy. And happiness—real happiness— only comes from above.”
She’d done her best through the years. These days she did little to stir the waters, even when they probably needed stirring. Peaceful. That’s what Mama called her. She often wondered if peaceful equaled passive.
The crowd eventually thinned and Taffie caught sight of her. She came rushing toward her with a broad smile. “You’re here!”
“I’m here.” Candy threw her arms around her older sister and gave her a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Not half as much as we’ve missed you.” Taffie rubbed her tummy and smiled. “This little one is happy to know his or her auntie Candy is sticking around this time and not high-flyin’ her way to some other part of the country.” Her brow wrinkled at bit as she added, “You are sticking around, aren’t you?”
“If Eastway will have me.” Candy shrugged. Inwardly, she wondered what might happen if she didn’t get the job. Instead of dwelling on that possibility, she dove into a conversation about her upcoming interview.
About two-thirds of the way into the conversation, Ryan approached from behind the ice cream counter. He let Candy finish, then gave her a brotherly hug. “Glad you’re home. How’s my favorite sister-in-law?”
She gave him a pretend warning look. “Better not let Tangie hear you say that. You know how jealous she gets.” Indeed, her youngest sister was very much the baby—in many respects. She thrived on being everyone’s favorite.
Ryan laughed. “Well, when she returns from the glitz and glam of her off-off-Broadway show, I’ll say it to her. But you’re here now.”
“Thanks a lot.” Candy laughed. “Anyway, I’m going to wrap up the interview process in Newark tomorrow, and find an apartment there just after.” She turned to her sister with a question. “Want to come apartment shopping with me? Are you feeling up to it?”
“The morning sickness ended weeks ago,” Taffie said. “I’m so much better now. But before you go searching for a place to live, we have something to tell you. Or rather, something to run by you.”
“You do?” Candy looked back and forth between her sister and brother-in-law. “What is it?”
Ryan gestured for her to sit at one of the small tables nearby. “I’ve got a cousin named Brooke who works as a flight attendant for Eastway,” he explained. “She’s rooming with a couple of other flight attendants at a fairly new apartment complex in Newark. She says it’s a great place. Not too far from the airport, but not close enough that the planes keep you up all night.”
“She’s great,” Taffie added. “I met her at the Antonelli family reunion a couple of months ago. I told her all about you, and she said to give you her number if the Eastway thing worked out. Told me they were going to be looking for a new roommate to share apartment costs in July. And it’s July. So, what do you think?”
“Well, I think I have to think about it.” Candy smiled. It certainly sounded like more than a coincidence. “So, it’s in Newark. That’s good.”
“Yes, and I really think you’ll like Brooke. She’s our kind of girl.” Taffie offered up a reassuring nod. “And her fiancé, Jason, is a great guy. We met him that same night. He’s the singles pastor at their church in Newark. They told us all about it. Said you’d love the church. They’re getting married in a few months, by the way.”
“Wow.” Candy thought about that a moment. “Do you go on being a singles pastor when you’re married? Wouldn’t that knock you right out of a job?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Ryan smiled. “I led worship in our singles ministry before we got married and went on doing so after.”
“Yes.” Candy looked at her sister’s slightly expanding midsection with a smile. “And before you know it, your baby will be grown up and ready to find his or her perfect mate.”
“Bite your tongue!” Taffie laughed. “Let’s don’t rush things, okay?”
“Okay, okay!” She put her hands up in the air. “But you’ll see what I mean. Time seems to be flying by.”
They all grew quiet for a moment. Ryan finally broke the silence. “I can tell you one thing. I’ll probably go on leading worship when the baby’s that age. In fact, I might just go on singing and praising God till I’m a grandpa. You know me.”
“Yeah, I know you.” Candy nodded. Ryan had such a heart for singles. The candy shop stayed filled year round with young adults, especially now that they offered specialty coffees and Christian karaoke night.
Before long they were caught up in conversation about the good old days. Candy laughed through several of the stories, particularly the ones that focused on her middle-child syndrome.
“I’m over that now,” she assured Taffie. “I promise. I’m not the insecure little girl I once was. Something about flying helped me overcome all of that.”
“So, you’re okay with being stuck in the middle?” Taffie teased.
“I can think of worse places,” Candy said. “So, yes. I’m okay with being stuck in the middle.” Funny, sitting here in the candy shop, she felt completely comfortable. She just had to wonder if she would go on feeling this comfortable once she faced the fine folks at Eastway Airlines.
❧
Darren rambled through the empty rooms of his house, wondering what it would feel like to actually have people in those rooms. In the two years since he’d splurged and purchased the home in Bridgewater, he’d had a few friends over. Even hosted a barbecue on the deck. But what he longed for—ached for, really—was a wife and children. People he could love who would love him in return. He wanted to fill the house with laughter and music. Anything other than the weighty silence or the occasional hum of the dishwasher.
He wanted the very thing he’d also longed for as a child, but never really had. A normal family. With an overbearing mother and a passive father, he’d missed out as a kid. It wasn’t asking too much to see some degree of normalcy now, was it?
Oh, he wouldn’t come out and admit his desire for the married life to his friends and coworkers. Why do that, when he’d managed to convince them he hoped to stay single forever? Yes, he’d done a fine job of making them believe he loved his current situation. If only he could convince himself.
He walked through the living room, stopping at the large empty aquarium. Maybe one day he’d actually buy a fish. In the meantime he had all the goods. Castle. Rocks. Food. You name it.
Someday.
Darren walked through the large kitchen to the back door.
Sliding it open, he stepped out onto the wooden deck—a deck he’d built with his own hands. Off in the distance, the three oak trees he’d planted last summer were finally starting to look like something more than scraggly twigs. Hopefully in a few years they’d stand tall and sturdy.
Through the crack in the door, he heard his cell phone ringing in the house and scrambled to catch it before it went to voice mail. He’d been secretly longing for the call from Brooke about her friend Andrea. Unfortunately, the voice on the other end of the line was decidedly male.
“Darren?”
He recognized his friend Gary’s voice right off and responded, “Hey, what’s up?”
Gary’s next words totally threw him. “I got a written warning, man. Eastway’s doing everything they can to get rid of me.”
“Wait. . .are you serious?”
“Yes. But this time I’ve got the union on my side. And we’re pretty sure we know what’s really happening here. Eastway is dropping employees right and left because of the increase in fuel prices. They’re just using my warnings from last month as an excuse. No one’s job is safe.” Gary went on and on, anger lacing his words. Darren tried not to let his friend’s emotions spill over on him, but he found it difficult. “No one’s job is safe”?
“But it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “You’ve got seniority. You’ve been with the company two and a half years.” Sure, Gary had received a verbal warning, and then a write-up. . . all related to his volatile temper and attitude with the crew several weeks prior. But he seemed to be doing better, of late. Why would they let him go now?
“Two and a half years isn’t long enough, apparently,” Gary said. “Rumor has it anyone who’s flown for Eastway for less than three could be asked to go.”
“Something about this just doesn’t sound right.” Darren raked his fingers through his hair, growing more frustrated by the moment. “I heard Eastway just hired a couple of new pilots this past week. Why would they yank your job away and give it to someone else?”
“One word. Females.”
“What?”
“They’re trying to meet their quota of women. I’m guessing Eastway has to keep a certain ratio of male-female pilots. Somehow they got off-kilter. I’d be willing to bet those new hires were women. So, decide for yourself.”
“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.” Darren began to pace, trying to make sense of this. “Quotas are a thing of the past. And the union would never stand for it. So, if there’s even a hint of sexism, they’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
“I’m counting on it. But even if they skirt the issue—pun intended—Eastway still won’t be in good shape. Not with fuel prices so high.”
Fuel prices were high, sure. Airlines everywhere were cutting back. Most were for baggage. And meal services were almost nonexistent, especially for regional carriers like Eastway. But. . .letting pilots go? Something about that just wasn’t right.
He finally voiced the inevitab
le question. “So, do you think I’m next?”
“You?” Gary laughed. “You’ve been with Eastway longer than most of us. What’s it been? Four years?”
“Four and a half.”
“Right. And your record is clean as a whistle. I wouldn’t imagine you’ll be going anywhere soon.”
Darren breathed a sigh of relief but knew he couldn’t celebrate just yet. Nor would he want to, with his friend facing a job loss. No, what he really wanted to do was head up to the Eastway offices and give the higher-ups a piece of his mind. He wouldn’t, of course. It wasn’t in his nature. What was it Brooke had said, again? Ah yes. “ You’re soft as a marshmallow.” Soft as a marshmallow. As the frustration took hold, Darren wished—just this once—he had the courage to toss his marshmallow mentality right out the window.
FOUR
Just one week after arriving home in New Jersey, Candy moved into the crowded two-bedroom apartment in Newark with Brooke Antonelli and two other Eastway flight attendants. She loved her new place almost as much as she loved her new roomies. Brooke, Lilly, and Shawneda each surprised her with their uniqueness and their outgoing personalities. In some ways it felt like being with her sisters again.
She’d no sooner dropped her final load of boxes in the front hall than Lilly grabbed her hand. “You’re going to be sharing a room with me. Hope you’re okay with all the colors in our room. I can’t stand anything boring.”
Candy followed along behind the petite Asian beauty until they entered the bedroom to the right of the living area. She’d seen the space a few days earlier, of course, but was still amazed at the effort that had gone into decorating it. The bright orange walls took her breath away. Literally. “You–you’ve done a great job in here.”
“Are you okay with the bedding? It’s a little bright.”
“I love it.” She looked at the orange and teal comforter and smiled. No, it wasn’t what she would’ve picked out for herself, but why not expand her horizons? My life could use a little color.
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