“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” She tapped the end of his nose with her finger. “I have a question for you, totally off subject.”
“What?”
“Something occurred to me as I was waiting to photograph potential thieves. It seems odd for people to steal in the summer if the lobsters bring less money at this time of year.”
“Hmm.” Wayne leaned against the stepladder. “That is an interesting point.”
“It just doesn’t seem to make much sense. I know there is some money in it, since the commercial lobstermen still fish. But if it’s only the smaller operators like yourself and Ben Costa who are being hit this summer, why would they bother? I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to hit the larger companies, those with more pots, to earn more?”
“Again, you raise a good point.” Wayne pondered this new information. She was right; it didn’t make much sense, other than the fact that the thief still made off with a hundred or so lobster pots’ worth of income. “I pulled my pots in for the season.”
“I wondered, when I didn’t see you out there this morning.”
“It was simply too costly to keep it going.”
“How long ago? Perhaps, if it’s been enough days, the thieves won’t be back.”
“Hmm, hadn’t thought of that. You’re probably right. Ben has a few pots in this inlet still.”
“I’ll try again to get a shot of them if they should come by, but I’m thinking it’s more and more likely that you’ve seen the last of them.”
“Until I put my pots out again in November,” he quipped, then shifted his weight and stood. “So, how long are you here for?” Something inside him longed for her to say forever, but he knew that wouldn’t be happening.
“Five days.”
“Wow, what happened to give you this big of a break?”
“I gave an assignment away.”
He walked back over to her. “Dena, can you afford it?”
“I don’t believe I have an option. I’m tired, Wayne, really tired. This commuting is hard on me.”
He embraced her and encouraged her to lay her head on his shoulder. “Honey, maybe I can schedule time off the next break you have and drive down to Boston. What do you think?”
She lifted her head. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. It hardly seems fair for you to do all the traveling. If I’m not lobstering, I can rearrange the jobs a bit. So, when is your next turnaround time?”
They made their plans for the next visit then went back to their individual tasks for the day. Dena paid a visit to her son and grandchildren while Wayne finished up, getting the room ready for the next day’s carpet delivery, then he returned home to prepare for their date.
Showered and shaved, he escorted Dena to dinner at a seafront shanty. It had plenty of texture for her photographer’s eye, he hoped. But it also had some of the best seafood in the entire area. “What do you think?” He held her hand as they entered the small restaurant.
“It’s charming, in a rustic kind of way.”
“I thought you might enjoy it.” He led her through the door. His fingers touched the small of her back, and a wash of comfort filled him. How was it that with so little time together, he felt so at peace with Dena?
“I’m glad you’re here for five days,” he whispered into her ear.
“Me, too.”
The waiter, who doubled as the host, led them to a table that sat in front of a large picture window overlooking the harbor. The tables and chairs were of heavy pine with a thick, clear varnish. Candles that doubled as mosquito repellent sat on each of the tables. Ice and water splashed into the Mason jar glasses as the waiter filled them.
“Trust me, the food is great,” he reassured her.
“Wayne, this is nothing, trust me. I’ve been to places where you swat flies faster than you can breathe. I don’t enjoy those places much, but I’ve been there.”
Wayne chuckled then sobered. “You’ve been to so many places I’ve only dreamed about or watched on National Geographic television specials. I can’t imagine.”
She propped her elbows on the table and locked her fingers together. “You know, I was serious about you joining me sometime. I’d love to have you come along on a shoot.”
“What would I do? We’re not married, and it just wouldn’t seem right for me to traipse around the country, or the world for that matter, just to be with you. Not that I’d mind being with you; it actually sounds quite wonderful, but—”
“You’re rambling,” she interrupted.
“Sorry.” Wayne closed his eyes and reclined in the chair.
“Do you know how cute you are when you get flustered?”
He opened his eyes and smiled. “No, but I don’t mind you telling me.”
He enjoyed her laugh. “I know it’s not a masculine thing to do, following a woman around on her job, but I’d love for you to experience some of the magnificent creation God has made out there. Not that this area in Maine isn’t a great wonder.”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand what you mean, and I’d like to travel some. But—”
The waiter approached. “Are you ready to order now?”
He hadn’t even glanced at the menu. “What’s tonight’s special?”
“Lobster bisque and swordfish,” the waiter replied.
“Hmm. Dena, what would you like?”
“I’m open to anything. You decide.”
Wayne scanned the menu. “Let’s start with some oyster chowder, the local fresh vegetable medley, wild rice, and swordfish.”
The young waiter stepped away.
“Oysters?”
“Do you not like them?”
Dena waved off his defense. “I like oyster chowder.”
Thirteen
Dena stood at the rail of her back porch and looked over the star-covered heavens. Tonight’s dinner with Wayne had been wonderful. They were stepping toward a more lasting relationship. When he was beside her, it had seemed perfectly natural to ask him to join her on a shoot. Now, thinking back on the evening, she wondered why she even made the suggestion. After all, they barely knew each other. Well, perhaps that wasn’t quite true. They talked and talked every chance they got and sent e-mails whenever a phone call didn’t work out. She probably knew him better than she knew Bill when they married.
Lord, it seems like ages since Bill and I were together, and yet he’s still a part of me. When I think of the times we spent together, of raising the kids, the memories are so clear and vibrant. I’m fairly sure I love Wayne. But how’s an old woman like me, who’s been a widow for more years than she was married, going to be comfortable with a man around the house? And what do we do about our careers? Each of us has a strong desire to work. I know I gave some thought to opening a studio up here. My kids would love it. And I know I’ve given some thought to organizing a team of photographers to go out on shoots, allowing me to take a more managerial approach. But would I really be content to do that? There’s been so much adventure in exploring the world.
Dena paused for a moment and listened to the gentle surf rolling up on shore.
You know, Lord, if You’re responsible for bringing the two of us together, don’t You think it would have been better if we had more compatible careers?
Dena crossed her arms and sat down on the lounge chair.
“Nice sky tonight,” Wayne said, bringing out two tall glasses of iced tea.
“Yeah.”
“What’s the matter?”
Dena took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I was just thinking about our careers. I could lessen my load. My kids would love it.”
Wayne sat down on the lounge chair beside her. “Dena, honey, are you happy traveling so much?”
“Honestly?” Am I? she wondered. “I don’t know. I guess it’s why I took the next five days off. I needed a break.”
“Look, I know the world is an exciting place to see, and I truly would love to see it. But is that what’
s most important to you?”
What is most important? “My family is naturally the most important part of my life. But, I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve hardly seen them over the past four or five years. It’s hard to see how fast Jason and Amber’s kids are growing up. And sometimes I feel guilty for not being around more.”
Wayne wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me how you think you could lessen your workload?”
“Actually, I don’t know that it would lessen all that much, but the traveling part I could reduce.” Dena went on to explain how she could run a studio, even from here. How she could sell prints of her photographs and circulate some of her older prints for possible publication. Then she told him about subcontracting to other photographers. “Basically, my name would be on the line. I’d earn a percentage of what the photographer would be paid from the clients who hired them to come out for a shoot. But I’d also be helping them get established as well as helping them organize and hopefully keep steady work.”
He leaned back on the lounge chair. “I think we should pray about it. It sounds like both possibilities have merit, plus you’d have more time for your family.”
“Yes, but it’s not just my family I want more time with.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Woman, you’re good for a man’s ego. I haven’t had anyone wanting to spend time with me since Jess was a young teen.”
She turned to face him and grasped his calloused hand. “I’m terrified,” she admitted as much to herself as to him.
“You’re not the only one. I’m excited about the prospect of possibly finding someone to spend the rest of my life with. But I’m nearly forty-two years old and rather set in my ways.”
Dena laughed. “Honey, you aren’t set until you’ve hit fifty, and even then there seem to be changes that keep coming.”
“Hmm, you might have a point there. Must be ’cause you’re older and wiser.”
Dena hauled off and smacked him in the shoulder. “Hey, I don’t look a day over thirty-nine.”
“True, but I know better. I know your son, and he’s in his early thirties,” he teased.
“Ahh, guess I didn’t need to dye those roots, huh?”
Wayne roared. “You were quite a sight. How often do you have to do that? I mean, tinfoil on your head kinda made you look like you belonged in a sci-fi movie.”
She went to swat him again, but he was quicker this time. He captured her hands and pulled her close. Millimeters before their lips touched, he said, “I love you, Dena.”
Her heart leapt in her chest. I love you, too, she admitted to herself, not allowing the words to form. Instead, she kissed him with an honest fervor that caused them both to pause.
Wayne got up and walked to the railing. “It’s getting late. I better get going.”
Dena wrapped her arms across her middle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Honey, I—”
“Shh. Your instincts are right, Wayne. Go home. I think we both have a lot of thinking to do.”
“All right. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
Dena remembered he’d told her earlier this evening he had a job a short distance away and that he probably wouldn’t get home until nine tomorrow night. She didn’t want to let him go but knew it was best. They both needed to get a handle on this after their confessions of love.
They said their good-byes and shared a chaste kiss when he exited the house. She leaned up against the closed door. “Dear Lord, have I missed hearing those words from a man that much?”
❧
Dena hadn’t professed her love, but her kiss drove the truth home. He tossed and turned all night. The possibilities of Dena’s career changing excited him. For the first time since he met her, he saw a genuine prospect of how they might manage to live together as husband and wife. His heart even beat double time thinking about traveling abroad with Dena. If he were to see the world, he’d love to have her at his side.
But as dawn approached, he had to ask himself one very important question. Was he excited because this was the right thing for her to do, or was he excited because this would allow him to stay in Squabbin Bay? Why did he want to stay in this small town so much? Shouldn’t he be willing to uproot and move to a place more conducive to Dena’s career? After all, wasn’t it the twenty-first century? Weren’t women’s careers just as important as men’s? And Dena was certainly old enough that she wouldn’t be taking off years to raise children. She’d already done that. And done it well, he added.
He headed to the job with that driving question on his mind: Was he willing to give up his career for hers?
All day and during his entire drive home, he continued to turn over every thought that had kept him awake the night before. When he arrived home, he immediately called Dena. No answer.
The little red light on his answering machine blinked. He pressed the Play button.
“Hello, you have three messages,” the automated message intoned. One was a hang up. One was a sales call for refinancing his mortgage, something he had no interest in doing since he only had a year left on his present payments. And the third was from Dena.
“Hi, Wayne. I’m sorry, but I had to leave town. Brianne is alone and feeling poorly. Her doctor is thinking of putting her in the hospital for a few days and keeping her on an IV. Please pray for her. I’ll call you as soon as I’m able. Or you can call my cell. I’m sorry. I really intended to spend this week with you.”
He immediately tapped in her cell phone number.
“Hey, Dad.” The screen door slammed behind Jess.
He cupped the phone with his hand and said, “Hi.”
“What’s for supper?” she asked.
“Don’t know. Fix something, please.”
“Sure.” She shrugged and ambled into the kitchen.
Dena’s voice mail came on. “Hi, Dena, I’m sorry to hear about Brianne. Jess and I will be praying. Call me when you can. Love ya, bye.”
“Brianne’s sick again?” Jess leaned against the doorjamb.
“Yeah, it sounds serious. Dena said they were talking about putting her in the hospital.”
“I’m sorry. Let Dena know Trev and I’ll be praying.”
Wayne nodded. “I’m going to shower. What are you making us for dinner?”
“I’ll order pizza.”
He chuckled, tossing his head from side to side. “You’re going to make a great wife one day.”
“Yup, I’ll have all the takeout numbers memorized.”
He waved her off and headed for his room. In the shower, he lathered up, getting rid of the sawdust and grit. The warm water sluiced down his back, relaxing his tired muscles.
You should go to her, a small voice nagged.
He stopped mid-lather and looked from side to side. Should he go to Boston? Would she want him there? What had he been fussing about with himself all day but sacrifice? Couldn’t he give Dena a couple days of moral support?
He scrubbed his hair, working up a rich crown of lather, and rinsed it off. Finishing his shower quickly, he dried off and packed an overnight bag.
“Jess,” he hollered from his bedroom.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I’m driving to Boston; make me a pot of coffee—please.”
“Okay,” she replied.
His cell phone rang. Seeing it was Dena’s cell, he answered. “Hi, honey. How is she?”
“She’s stabilizing. She’s lost a lot of fluid.”
“I’m so sorry. Where are you?”
“Brigham and Women’s Hospital. It’s not too far from my apartment.”
“When did you get there?” he asked, stuffing some toiletries into his bag.
“Just before dinner. I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you.”
“Shh, Brianne needs you. I’m packing right now. I’m coming down there, unless you don’t want me to.”
“You’re more than welcome—but you don’t have to,” she whispered.
“Honey, I want to. I’ll get a room in a hotel near the hospital.”
“No way. You can stay at my place.”
“No, Dena. I’d love to, but I don’t think that’s wise at this point in our relationship.”
“Ah, you’re probably right. Okay, you can stay at the kids’ apartment. Chad’s flying in tonight. I finally reached him through his airline.”
“Okay. I’ll be leaving in an hour or so, so I won’t be getting there until dawn.”
“Honey, drive down in the morning. Get some sleep.”
“Tell you what, I’ll pray about it. I’m so awake right now, I don’t think the drive would be that bad. But I might get a few hours down the highway and be ready to zonk out.”
Dena giggled. “I know you. It’s already past your bedtime. You will zonk out, as you put it.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll have my supper and see how awake I’m feeling. If I decide to leave tonight, I promise to pull over and find a room if I get sleepy.”
“All right. Call me once you decide. I have to leave the cell phone off while I’m in the hospital, but I’m checking every hour for messages from the kids.”
“Does Pastor Russell know?”
“Yes, I called him before I left town.”
“Good, he’s probably got the church prayer chain going for Brianne.”
“I hope so.” Dena paused. “Wayne, I’m really concerned. There’s a chance she might lose the baby.”
“I’ll be praying. Hang in there, honey. I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can.”
“Thanks. And, Wayne—I love you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that last night.”
A smile creased his face from ear to ear. “You did, just not with words.”
❧
Dena worked the kinks out of the back of her neck as the smell of bacon on the food trays passed in the hallway. It had been a long night. While Chad visited with Brianne, she stayed in the waiting room to give them some privacy.
“Dena,” Wayne called, barely above a whisper.
She ran to him and held on, grateful for the presence of the man she loved. For so long she’d had no one to hold on to but the Lord. Wayne’s strong body gave her renewed strength. “Thanks for coming.”
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