When Dreams Cross

Home > Nonfiction > When Dreams Cross > Page 17
When Dreams Cross Page 17

by Terri Blackstock


  “You can do anything,” he said with deepest certainty, pulling her down to sit next to him on the small love seat against the wall. “But you couldn’t have stopped this. You’re one person. I’ve never seen a president of a company so involved on every level. Your father was proud of you and he knew you were as capable as he was, or he would never have left you in charge.”

  His words seemed to relax her more, so he closed his arms more tightly around her and went on in his deep, comforting baritone, realizing she needed the truth, realizing she needed his love. “That’s probably why he fought our relationship so hard. He knew you were too good for me. He knew I was just a lousy bum who didn’t appreciate what a precious treasure you were. And at the time, he was right.”

  The memory of her father’s love for her racked her even deeper, and she wept into his chest, clutching the edge of his shirt as she groped for some means of control.

  “Tell me what your father would have done differently to prevent today’s accident,” Justin prodded.

  “I don’t know,” she cried in a strained voice. “But he would have known. He knew so much more than I did. I overlooked something. I ignored something.”

  “Wrong,” Justin said, pulling her back so that he could see her wild, red-rimmed eyes. “Even the engineers who designed the FanTran didn’t see it. You said yourself you have some of the best minds in the world working for you. It’ll be okay. You can rebuild these rides, perfect the FanTran … We’ll think of a way to clear our image.”

  “There’s no time,” Andi said in a hoarse voice. “The country’s going to get tired of these conflicting signals. We’d have to suffer through months, maybe years, of no profits at all before people started to come. And I can’t rebuild these rides. There was too much damage. I’ve made a mockery out of the whole idea that this was a God-centered park.”

  “You haven’t made it a mockery. You’re rebuilding Hands Across the Sea, aren’t you?”

  Andi pulled out of his arms and stood up. “You don’t understand, Justin. I’m not talking about construction capabilities and the strength of a dream. I’m talking about money. I simply don’t have the money if the park isn’t going to open! I only have enough to get us through construction and the first year until we start seeing a profit. But no one will come now. There won’t be any profits, and there’s no more in the budget for rebuilding.”

  “You can borrow it. Surely—”

  “I can’t borrow any more,” she bit out, turning back to him. “I told you. I’ve used all my Sherman Enterprises stock as collateral for the loans I’ve already gotten. There’s very little left, and no bank in the world is going to loan me money after this. I won’t be able to pay it back. I’m going bankrupt, Justin. There’s no other alternative.”

  “Yes, there is,” Justin demurred with a gentle shake of her arm. “You still have half of Pierce Productions. My company is worth a lot more now than it was. And if your fifty percent isn’t enough collateral, I could borrow on my half and help.”

  “I’d never let you do that,” she whispered, turning away from him. “This is not your problem, it’s mine.”

  “You’re going to be my wife.” He forced her to face him again. “That makes it my problem.”

  Andi couldn’t stop the peal of laughter bursting through her sobs. “Your wife? I can’t marry you now!”

  Not willing to accept a decision made during hysteria, Justin framed her face and tipped it up to his. “Yes, you can. This thing today has nothing to do with us or our future together.”

  “It does,” she cried. “Don’t you see? I can’t marry you now. I have nothing left. Nothing!”

  “You have me! And we both have Pierce Productions. I’ll help you through this.”

  “You’re always helping me through catastrophes lately, Justin!” she shouted in a frazzled pitch. “I can’t go through life leaning on you!”

  “I like for you to lean on me,” he said earnestly. “That’s why God wants us to have helpmeets. So we can help each other.”

  “But I can’t, Justin!” Her face burned hot with conviction. “That’s why we never made it before. I had money, big ideas, and big dreams. I had energy and drive, and it made you crazy. If I had been poor and ordinary we might have stayed together. It’s no wonder that you want me now. You’ve got me right where you’ve always wanted me!”

  Justin turned to the dresser, leaning on his hands, and forced his eyes on the forgotten glass of water. “I never said I wanted you to be those things,” he bit out in a tremulous voice, trying to keep her condition in mind. “I asked you to marry me before the FanTran crashed. I told you that I understood my mistakes. I love you just the way you are, Andi. Don’t ruin it.”

  Andi’s fingernails bit into her palms as she brought her fists to her temples. “You can’t love me the way I am when I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just know I can’t start off a marriage trying to find myself, trying to pick up the pieces and patch things back together.” She stopped and looked at him, his back to her, his muscles coiled and poised for the coming blow. “It won’t work, Justin,” she said, trying to keep the despair from her voice. “I’m not going to marry you.”

  The glass beside his hand went flying across the room. It crashed on the wall and splintered to the floor, leaving behind it only a dripping wet stain on the wallpaper. “Give it up, then!” he blared as Andi turned her back to him and muffled her sob with her fists. “It’s you who has to have everything perfect, Andi. You’re fine as long as you’re in control, as long as you’re the one with the money and the strings and the ideas. But lose a few notches on that pedestal of yours, and everybody else had better look out. You’d rather go under than accept my help, wouldn’t you? You’d rather live alone the rest of your life than marry someone who wants to protect you.” His voice softened with emotion as he stepped up behind her, the warmth of his body radiating into her, though he refrained from touching her. “That first day I came to your office to hear your proposal, you told me that it was always easier to settle for something instead of fighting and trying to make it work. You were right.” His hands touched the backs of her shoulders and he dropped his forehead into her hair. “Marry me, Andi,” he pleaded in a tremulous voice. “We can make it. If we throw it out this time, we’ll never get it back. It’ll be lost to us forever.”

  “It’s already lost,” she whispered.

  Justin dropped his hands and stepped back, and she forced herself to stand still and not look at him. “As long as I’ve known you,” he said in a flat, bland voice, “you’ve fought through every crisis in your life. But you won’t fight for me. Well, maybe you don’t consider losing me a crisis.”

  Silent, she stayed where she was, her back to him.

  “That’s right, Andi,” Justin bit out. “Don’t say anything. Let me just keep thinking that you still love me in your way. It’ll help at night when I’m racking my brain trying to figure this insanity out.” He started out of the room, his heart shattering like broken glass. “I love you anyway, Andi,” he said in a strange, thick voice.

  And then he was gone, leaving behind only a sick, throbbing void where hope had been.

  It was two hours before Andi felt she had no more tears to shed, and then she forced herself to pull together and consider the steps that had to be taken. Like the preparations for a funeral, arrangements had to be made to put an end to Promised Land. Padding barefoot into her kitchen, Andi poured herself a drink, then reached into her freezer for a handful of ice cubes. Breathing a deep, cleansing sigh, she dropped all but two into her glass and pressed the two remaining ones against her swollen eyes. The park was gone, she thought, trying to get her priorities in order. There was no sense in mourning it anymore. She would do what had to be done and get it behind her as soon as possible.

  The way she had done with Justin.

  She thought of his offer to help her financially. The ironies of life would never cease to amaze her. They had completely switc
hed positions. Now he was the one succeeding and executing dreams, and she would soon be penniless.

  For the first time in her life she understood why he had been so resisting of her help before. It hurt to ask someone you loved for help. But it also hurt to want to help someone you loved and be denied that privilege. There was no winning between them. They were too much alike.

  Berating herself for being as proud and stubborn as he had once been, she walked back to her bedroom window and saw the sun beginning to set in the west. The crowd of reporters still circled around the wreckage like vultures, waiting for any morsel of information they could glean. They were so fickle, she thought with misery. This morning they had been her hailing followers, and tonight they would do her in.

  What are you trying to teach me, Lord? her mind cried out. What is it that I’m not learning?

  Something about pride, she told herself. She had confessed it time and time again, had pleaded with God to change her, but here it was, still driving her. The memory of Justin’s voice when he’d left her today, letting her know that she could still change her mind, rang through her heart. He did love her, and God knew she loved him. But was her pride really going to cost her everything? Wasn’t she strong enough to keep from emotionally dragging him down if they stayed together?

  Her eyes drifted to the telephone beside the red couch and she sat down and set her hand on the receiver. The smoothness of it almost made her feel better, so she picked it up. What would she say? That maybe they could make it? That her love for him was stronger than her pride? That it might be possible for Pierce Production’s small initial income to get her park through the rough periods while she put off her debtors? That maybe she could delay bankruptcy until …

  Pierce Productions. The words punctured her heart, sending the breath of hope whooshing out until there was none left. Pierce Productions was half owned by Promised Land. And if Promised Land was forced into bankruptcy, Pierce Productions would go down as well.

  Andi dropped the phone back in its cradle. She had been wrong when she’d thought things could never get worse. They could get far worse.

  She had only one choice. She would give Justin his fifty percent back. She would make certain that he was free and clear of Promised Land before she petitioned for bankruptcy. And she would make even more certain that their paths did not cross until the deed was done. That way there would be no turning back. She could not cling to Justin’s dream in hopes it would save her own. The risk of stripping him of everything was too great.

  If she could not save herself, she would at least save him. Again, she picked up the telephone. But this time she called her lawyers.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Andi buried her head in her arms, wrinkling the useless papers cluttering her desk. It felt as if every ounce of blood had been drained from her veins, and it was just too much to endure. Justin would get the papers today, cutting him loose from Promised Land. He would be angry at first, she thought dismally. But when her lawyer pointed out that he would probably lose his company otherwise, she was certain he’d understand. Justin had fought her control of him almost every step of the way, and now she was simply giving back what she had taken. When the papers were signed, she could go ahead with her petition for bankruptcy.

  Then she would start over … somewhere.

  Lord, how is this going to make me stronger? her mind railed. Her father’s notes next to the “consider it joy” verse in his Bible came back to her, and she tried with all her heart and soul to find some joy in what was happening. But the truth was, she didn’t care if it made her stronger to endure this. If that was the cost, she didn’t want to be strong.

  The door bolted open, startling her into lifting her head, and suddenly Justin stood before her, his explosive blue eyes burning into her as he slammed the door and stalked to her desk. Leaning over it, he shoved the crumpled paper across the desk top. “You always have the last word, don’t you?”

  Andi was stunned into speechlessness, but she opened her mouth and tried to reply.

  “Well, swallow this,” he blazed, cutting her off. “Promised Land is half owner of Pierce Productions. And it’s going to stay that way. We’re in this together, and whether you like it or not, we’re going to fight it out together!”

  Andi stood up and faced him at eye level, her red eyes tired and swollen. “Justin, you don’t understand. I’m not trying to pull rank on you. I just don’t want your company to be hurt.”

  “Forget my company!” he shouted. “It’s not worth anything without you! I’m not worth anything without you. Why can’t you understand that?”

  Andi couldn’t answer. Trying to hide her pain, she turned her back to him and leaned into one of the closed circuit television screens, busy with the forms of Givens and the state inspectors who had been in and out for the last two days, gathering ammunition to take back to the legislature to hurry her demise.

  Anger seeped away from him as he saw a tear drop from her chin. He wanted to hold her, to forget either company had ever existed, to take her away somewhere where they could both start over with new dreams. He stepped around her desk, still keeping some distance between them and honoring her need to hide her face. “We can fight it together, Andi,” he pleaded. “And if it comes to it, losing my company would be nothing compared to losing you.”

  She heard him moving toward her, and when his arms closed around her from the back, she thought how easy it would be to just turn to him and accept his love and his help. But it was the coward’s way out. She had always been praised for her vision. And right now that vision was telling her that nothing was going to get better. If he lost his company because of her, deep down he would never forgive her and she would never forgive herself.

  “But if we don’t lose our companies, Andi, we’ll be stronger together. You’ve got to get back on your feet if you’re going to invest in my movie.” His soft voice cut into her thoughts, drawing her upward again on the emotional seesaw she rode, as he diagrammed new dreams. “It’ll be a masterpiece for children and adults, and they’ll show it over and over for a hundred years.”

  Andi closed her eyes. “You wouldn’t take the money for the film when I had it, Justin. It’s easy to accept now when I don’t have it. I appreciate the effort, but it’s an empty gesture.”

  Justin stepped back and dropped his hands, his tone hinting at vexation and helplessness. “Right now you see everything I do as an empty gesture, Andi. I don’t know how to convince you that I have no intentions of letting you or your dreams go.”

  Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he realize that the chances of their pulling out of this mess were next to nothing? Maybe his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her behind when things were so rough, the way he had done before. She’d just have to make herself strong and show him that she could make it on her own. Somehow, she would have to convince him to forget her and save himself.

  Walking to the window, Andi squared her shoulders. “Justin, part of being a dreamer has to do with knowing when to let go. There isn’t going to be some miracle that turns things around this time. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Don’t tell me about letting go!” he shouted. “I’ve had a lot more blows in my life than you have. Being a dreamer means holding on, working and sweating and praying until you see that dream taking shape. If I had let go every time the earth fell out from under me, I’d be in another galaxy by now. Your dad didn’t make his millions giving up when things looked bad. He fought back. He made a lot of enemies that way, but he also built a lot of dreams. And he trusted, because he knew that God was in it!”

  “He would have done the same thing I’m doing now!” Andi cried, swinging around to face Justin.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, planting his hands on his hips as the pulse beat visibly in his neck. “He would have taken every advantage he had, and you know it.”

  Andi’s face glowed with frustration. “Don’t you understand?” she rasped. “I don�
��t have any advantages right now!”

  “You have me!” he shouted back. “We may not be millionaires when we come out of this, but we also will probably not be bankrupt! You’re just too wrapped up in martyrdom to see it!”

  Andi’s heart pumped furiously. She would lose the battle and he would lose, unless she did something drastic. “It isn’t martyrdom, Justin,” she cried. “It’s just that the last thing you do before your ship sinks is throw the deadweight overboard. It’ll be months before you show a profit. I want out, Justin. When I’m rid of you I can concentrate on my own interests.”

  Justin looked as if he had been struck across the face. He froze, speechless, for a tortuous eternity, his lips a tight slash across his face, his jaws visibly clenched. Slowly, he turned back to her desk and retrieved the paper. She watched the hard way he swallowed as he stared down at it, as if battling the decision that only needed a signature. And when he finally brought his eyes to her again, she saw that the pain had been replaced with something hotter and more vibrant. “We’ve bluffed each other before, Andi,” he said in a quiet, lethal voice. “But the stakes are a lot higher this time.” He started toward the door, opened it, but stopped at the threshold and turned back to her. His blue eyes were luminous with new purpose when he held up the paper and ripped it in half.

  Andi caught her breath and started forward to stop him, but he warned her back with an outstretched hand. “We’re going down together, Andi, or we’ll fight it out together,” he seethed, his voice tremulously quiet as he continued to shred the paper, letting the pieces float to the floor. “And when it’s all over, regardless of the outcome, we’ll have something more important than any of it left.”

  Then he disappeared, slamming the door behind him, leaving only a scattered pile of paper that represented the hope that Andi was afraid to feel.

 

‹ Prev