by Sally John
Her thoughts floundered for a moment. “Uh, back to the subject at hand. Make this a wildlife preserve. Can you zone it for that?”
“We have the power, but there just isn’t much interest. And since I own the land, I can’t bring that idea to a vote. That’s a definite conflict of interest. But if we did that, we’d have to provide access to it, declare the whole road and then some as part of the preserve.”
“Don’t move.” Gina hurried into the kitchen and fished a dollar bill from her purse, then plopped back down beside him. “Here.” She stuffed the money into his shirt pocket and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll buy your land. Now go zone it for wildlife and stop complaining.”
With an absentminded gaze on his face, he smoothed her hair. “This isn’t going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?”
“This.” His whispery voice was lower than usual. “Us. Kissing while the frogs sing.”
Her stomach knotted. “Did I miss something here?”
“It’s just that…” He caressed her cheek, then withdrew his hand and slid away to the other end of the couch. “You fit too perfectly, Angelina. You fit in my house, in my woods. You fit in my head, in my heart. You fit in my arms. And I want you to spend the night.”
Her head swam. Was he serious? She scrambled for a flippant tone. “Well, that ain’t gonna happen, mister.”
“I take it back. You don’t fit perfectly if you can say ‘ain’t’ without gagging.”
“It’s in the dictionary.”
“But it’s not acceptable.”
“Who says? I’d use it in Scrabble. Shall we play Scrabble?”
Brady jumped to his feet. “It’s definitely time for Scrabble. I’ll get the board.”
Forty
The dishwasher hummed quietly, cleaning the remainder of the Sunday dinner dishes. Windows were shut tight against the early afternoon heat, locking in that blessed invention, air conditioning. Maggie sat with her cast propped on a chair and eyed the others sitting around her sister’s oak kitchen table and sighed. No one noticed.
Marsha wore her midlevel frazzled expression and wasn’t screeching. Lauren had cut a second serving of her mother’s luscious cherry pie and now hunted in the freezer for vanilla ice cream, moaning about eating too much. Gina’s eyes resembled a raccoon’s.
Maggie’s exasperation overflowed into one word, “Lauren!”
Blonde curls whipped around, brown eyes widened as if in shock, her jaw dropped.
Maggie couldn’t help but smile at her niece. “The mean aunt is back. Now listen to me. You will not be able to fit into that gorgeous wedding dress if you eat that ice cream. Put it back and come over and sit down.”
Lauren did as she was told.
“All right, girls,” Maggie continued. “It’s time to take our emotional temperature here. If we behave like this on Saturday or even at the Friday rehearsal, we will miss the moment entirely. Marsh, you have hair and massage appointments, a cleaning service coming three times this week and twice next week. You’re done. You can stop now and enjoy the festivities.”
“But there are flowers, the cake, the food—”
“And a florist, baker, and caterer. Didn’t you hear the same sermon I heard this morning?”
Marsha wrinkled her brow.
“Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that the Lord has good plans for us.”
“That doesn’t mean everything will work out.”
“I understand that! But it’s all part of the chance journeys you told me about. God knows what He’s doing. You’ve prayed over every detail. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen is His responsibility. Right?”
“R-right.”
Maggie turned to her niece and slid the plate away from her. “Lauren, honey, I know you’re excited, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. Why don’t you go play a Rachmaninoff piece on the piano?”
She swallowed and waved a fork. “Two more bites?”
“No! There’s a bag of celery in the fridge. Marsha, you are forbidden to bake this week.” She looked at Gina. “Why aren’t you eating another piece of pie? You’ve been eating like a horse, which means you’ve fallen head over heels for Brady—”
Marsha gasped. “I thought it was a crush!”
“You didn’t see the way they looked at each other when he picked her up for their first date. We are not talking crush here. Oh!” She swiveled back to her daughter. “Sweetheart! You’re not eating because you and Brady had an argument!”
“No, Mother, we did not have an argument. Leave me out of this lecture. I’m just a bridesmaid, low on the totem pole. Nowhere near the center of attention.”
Lauren touched her arm. “Gina, what happened?”
“Nothing.”
Maggie recognized the distress in her little girl’s crinkled forehead and asked, “How serious are things?”
“Things cannot be serious. Brady Olafsson is not my kind of guy. Valley Oaks is not my kind of town.”
Maggie’s stomach somersaulted. “That serious, huh?”
“Oh, Mom!” The floodgates opened and her words tumbled out. “You can hang out in the pharmacy and be served lemonade, for goodness sake, like—like it’s a family reunion! And have you ever met anyone like Aunt Lottie? I mean, she teaches me something new every single day. Then take Anne. She’s an absolute blast, and she’s basically a stay-at-home mom! She and Alec have their act so together with their kids and each other. I’ve never seen anyone more contented than Liz. Lauren is so happy, and her house is so cute. And Brady, well, he has a hundred acres of heaven, and he’s—” She stopped to take a breath. “Just about perfect.”
The women stared at each other. Maggie finally broke the silence. “But there aren’t any elephants nearby.”
“Exactly!”
Lauren nudged Gina. “What does Brady have to say about things?”
“He brought me home early last night so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask me to…stay.” She glanced sideways at Maggie and Marsha. “The night.”
“Whew!” Lauren whistled. “Nicole never stayed. I doubt she was even invited.”
Marsha gasped again. “Lauren! How in the world do you know that?”
“Mom, it’s Valley Oaks. Britte told Anne and Anne told me. Brady’s always gone strictly by the Book. Capital ‘b.’ Nicole had a bit of a problem with that. I mean she was a believer, but thought since they were engaged they may as well live together. Brady said no-o way.”
Gina frowned. “Get real, Lauren. No guy is like that these days.”
“Aaron is.”
“You mean…you’re waiting?”
Lauren grinned. “Just till Saturday night.”
Maggie noticed her sister had turned beet red. “Marsha, isn’t it great how open our girls are with us? They’re nothing like we were with Mom.”
“Sure.”
Maggie read uncertainty on her daughter’s face. She’s so fragile. A heaviness of uncertainty nagged, and it wasn’t just Gina. Reece hadn’t returned her calls. What was his reaction to the last message she left? What did she hope it was? Would he even show up for the wedding? She addressed Gina, but knew she encouraged herself, too. “Gina, keep that Jeremiah verse in mind. God knows what’s best, and sometimes, in order to get us to that best place, He has to take us on a detour. Let me tell you about mine.”
Monday morning Maggie sat in Aunt Lottie’s car parked in the driveway, tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel. Gina was taking forever to leave the house. She had overslept. Then Brady had called, and they talked as if they weren’t going to be spending most of the day together.
Maggie wondered about that relationship. What did she really think? Much as the young man impressed her, his being Neil’s son was just too bizarre for everyone involved. In spite of the detour talk yesterday about letting God lead them down unplanned paths, Gina would never settle in Valley Oaks. She was too much her father’s daughter, all bigcity-eyed. Big cities with large zoos.
Maggie glanced at her watch again and considered honking the horn. They were already behind schedule. Convincing her sister that things were under control meant, of course, that Maggie assumed responsibility to oversee the thousand and one details not yet under control. The caterer was a nightmare. The florist—borderline hopeless. Oh, well, it didn’t matter. The “mean aunt” could afford to be strung out. The mother of the bride needed some pampering at this point. And besides, the challenge and busyness kept her mind off of her own bizarre relationship with Reece. A week from today she would head back home…
Gina bounded from around the back of the house, waved to her, and continued on past the car. Maggie twisted in the seat. A FedEx truck blocked the driveway.
“Now what?” She climbed from the car.
The driver handed Gina a flat, rectangular package about a yard in length. “It’s for you, Mom!”
“It’ll have to wait.” John wouldn’t send her a gift, would he? But it had to be from—“Stick it in the house and let’s go!”
“Oh, come on. Take a peek anyway.” Gina disappeared through the front screen door.
Maggie sighed and followed. Oh, Lord. This can’t be happening. He never gave me a gift, only his friendship. A gift is too tangible. Too definitive. He knew the goodbye was final…
Gina glided a knife under the flap of the cardboard and sliced through the packing tape. “Mother, the label says it’s from an art shop in Chicago.”
Maggie sank onto the couch, a fresh wave of guilt sucking air from her lungs.
“You should open it.”
She shook her head.
Gina smiled, eyes bright with anticipation, and ripped open the box. She shoved aside packing peanuts, tore apart butcher paper, and caught her breath.
And then Maggie caught hers. An exquisite piece of art glistened in the brown wrappings. Under glass, in a simple black frame, vibrant red and purple irises bloomed against a gold backdrop.
“Mom, it’s beautiful!”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” she whispered. “I can’t accept—”
“This card says it’s serigraph on gold leaf—”
“A silk-screened print on gold?”
Gina handed her an envelope and whooped. “He sent you flowers!”
“What?”
“Don’t you get it? Flowers! But they’re not truly flowers, because then they wouldn’t count!”
With shaky fingers Maggie pulled out a gift card. Reece? This was from Reece? I do love you, Margaret. More than ever. Reece. She shook her head, as if the movement would dislodge some understanding. This was incomprehensible.
Gina propped the painting against a wall. “Way to go, Dad!”
“You knew?”
“He told me something was to be delivered this morning, and he hoped we’d be here. Couldn’t you tell I was stalling?”
Maggie bit her tongue. This could have waited. She had waited for years. What was one more afternoon?
Forty-One
Brady whirled Gina around the bright yellow kitchen and hummed what he considered “their” song. Where does your journey lead from here? Crazy as it sounded, he did want them to travel the rest of life’s journey together.
She pushed him away and answered his unspoken question, “Probably looking for an elephant to take care of. Now move that box and let me get back to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He set a heavy box of dishes atop the counter and headed back outside to help the other guys carry in his cousin’s enormous rolltop oak desk.
He and a group of friends were at Aaron and Lauren’s house, delivering pickup truckloads of household goods gathered from the couples’ apartments and parents’ homes. Brady had joined the party at 1:00. Gina had been standoffish since 1:02, right after she flashed him her Miss America smile.
Not that he blamed her.
“Yo, Olafsson! Heads up!” Cal Huntington climbed the porch steps, desk chair in his arms.
Brady moved aside and held open the screen door.
“You done mooning yet?”
“Huh?”
Cal grinned. “Kind of sweet on that pretty California gal, aren’t you, bud?” He carried the chair into the house, then came back outside. Without the brown deputy sheriff’s uniform draping his broad shoulders, he appeared larger than usual in jeans and a white T-shirt. “Got your basketball?”
“Never leave home without it.”
“Bet you could use a game between that,” he tilted his head toward the house, “and your Zoning Committee.”
“You know, you should go into law enforcement, Huntington. You’d be good at detective work.”
“Ha, ha. How about some one-on-one? Even you and I can’t move that desk until the others get back.”
They sauntered over to Brady’s truck and retrieved the ball. “Think the Johnsons will mind if we use their hoop?” A freestanding hoop faced the paved cul-de-sac.
“Nah,” Cal replied. “Neighborhood’s quiet this afternoon. Perfect 72 degrees and too hot for the kids.”
“Talk to me, Calhoun. What’ve you heard?”
“Oh, I guess the general consensus is she’s sweet on you, too.”
Brady punched the ball at him. “Check. I meant about the zoning situation.”
“You don’t have the votes.”
They played, their conversation punctuated by huffing silences, grunts, and the rattling of the backboard when the ball hit it.
“What’s your opinion, Officer?”
“It’s a shame. All that history out there. Besides the fact that you live in a private park. Got enough developments going up. Town’s probably evenly divided. Whatever you guys decide will work out. Course the school board’ll be on your case for the next century or so.”
“No kidding.”
“What’ll you do? Move out to California?”
Brady’s shot nicked the edge of the backboard. He chased after the ball. Move to California? That was one option he hadn’t considered. Wouldn’t ever consider. He liked living in Valley Oaks. He liked everything about living in Valley Oaks. Well, everything except for the fact that Gina Philips would be leaving it next week.
Six days left to win her over. And he had probably scared her off Saturday night, letting her know just how serious he was about her. Or confused her by working last evening instead of taking her out for dinner. Lord, give me some middle ground here. Something between cool and aloof and mooning like a lovesick teenager.
Maybe he could talk her into staying longer. It wasn’t like she had a job to go back to.
Gina splashed cool water on her face and studied her reflection in Lauren’s new bathroom mirror. It had been hot work unloading cartons of kitchenware. A banana clip held back her disheveled hair, but it still needed shampoo. Raccoon eyes…now brimming with tears.
She was tired and her leg ached. She didn’t want to join the others for a trip into Rockville for catfish. She really didn’t want to intrude any longer. This was a Valley Oaks thing and she was an outsider.
Brady and that big guy, Cal, typified the character of the group. From the kitchen window she had watched these two grown men as they left behind heaps of unfinished work and strolled across the street to play basketball. She had watched them laugh and grimace and pant. She had watched them drink from the hose in the yard and then squirt down their heads and red faces like a couple of kids. That and today’s entire scene oozed good-natured wholesomeness. Homespun.
She didn’t fit.
She leaned over and splashed more cold water on her face. Lauren’s comments of yesterday haunted her. “Nicole never spent the night…Aaron and I are waiting…”
Gina buried her face in a new thick towel. It didn’t matter. Seattle had called that morning. Aunt Lottie had given the zoo’s head of personnel Lauren’s number and he had reached her there. He offered her the job.
The wait was over. God had answered her prayer. She was back on track.
Rejoining the group downstairs, she begged off go
ing to dinner. Brady approached just as Isabel was offering her a ride home.
“Gina, you’re not going?”
She shook her head, trying to avoid eye contact. “I’m bushed.”
He touched her elbow. “Want to have pizza with me in town?”
By now Isabel was talking with someone else. Gina studied the floor.
“Sweetheart, shall I get you some ibuprofen?”
How did he know? Her head felt as if she were on a carousel ride. “I just took some. Thanks.”
“Ah, then you’ll need some pizza in your stomach to go along with it. Let’s go.”
She took the arm he offered and leaned against him. The room stopped spinning. “You didn’t wink, Brady. You know how I am about getting into your truck.”
With a tilt of his head, he came into view and winked in that familiar, oh-so-mellow way of his.
How was she going to tell him?
They sat in a booth with high wooden backs at the restaurant, pizza remains on a platter between them. It was a crowded place with oldies playing just loud enough to mask neighboring conversations. Brady reached across the table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Feeling better?”
“Colored sugar water always helps.”
“Pop,” he corrected.
“Soda.”
“You say toe-may-toe—”
“I say toe-mah-toe.”
He grinned. “I suppose that’s the crux of things, eh?”
“Brady—”
“Look, Gina, I’m sorry for confusing you. One night I practically say ‘move in with me’ and the next we talk a total of two minutes on the telephone. The fact is, I don’t know how to express myself.”
“Brady—”
“All right, I’ll just say it. I’m falling in love with you. No, not falling. I already did that. I love you, Angelina.”
“But we’ve only just met!”
“I know.”
“We live thousands of miles apart!”
“I know that, too. Tell me something I don’t know. Like what do you think about spending more time in Valley Oaks?”
She tore her eyes away from his turquoise gaze. She hadn’t told him yet about Seattle.