The Waiting

by Carol James

  So, he’d come back searching for God...and for Katherine.

  9

  Today had been a great day. Katherine had completely rearranged the kitchen. Dad would be so happy when he returned in a few days. The way Mom had set it up when they’d moved to this house before Cassie had been born had never made sense. But now, everything was as it should be. The dishes were close to the dishwasher, the pots, pans, and other cookware were under the oven or next to the stove. Items used rarely or only once a year were out of the way in the high upper cabinets. Everything was much more efficient now—the way Katherine’s kitchen in Dallas had been.

  So yes, today had been a productive day—until now. She backed her car down the driveway. They were late, and there was no excuse for consistent lateness. Cassie’s inability to keep on schedule was nothing more than poor planning. It took Katherine exactly thirty-seven minutes to shower and wash her hair, dry and style it, put on makeup, and get dressed. She could get ready in twenty-nine if she really needed to, or take longer if she wanted, but she always allowed forty-two minutes, just to make sure she’d be on time. Proper planning was the key to punctuality.

  “Cassie, are you using that notebook I gave you?”

  Cassie sighed as she turned to look out the passenger side window. “No.”

  Katherine would have been shocked if Cassie’s answer had been “yes.” “Honey, if you’d plan each day the night before when you went to bed, you’d be so much more organized and less forgetful.”

  “Beth, it’s just too much trouble. Besides, I don’t care about all that stuff. I don’t want some notebook ruling my life.” Cassie turned back.

  “It wouldn’t rule your life. A planned life is a successful life. Planning allows you to accomplish more with your time.”

  “Yeah, well not planning is more fun. I don’t want to miss the good stuff because I’ve got my nose in some notebook only doing what’s on the lists. You may get more done. But I have more fun. Life is about enjoying what comes along even if you didn’t expect it. You know...being spontaneous.”

  Mom’s mantra. Katherine had heard it more times than she could count, and apparently, Cassie was fully indoctrinated. “Cassie, you’re missing the point. Planning allows you to have more fun.”

  “Yeah, like moving around everything in the kitchen cabinets. Whoo-hoo.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Cassie was her mother’s child.

  Katherine pulled into the church parking lot. “Look, sweetie, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life. There are lots of organizational systems that work. This one just works for me. All I ask is that you give it a try. For a week. I’ll even help you at night.”

  As they opened their doors and stepped out onto the asphalt, heat waves shimmered up, hinting at the summer temperatures right around the corner. Cassie looked back over the top of the car at her and smiled. “Maybe.” She slammed her door and ran toward the entrance to the fellowship hall. Glancing back over her shoulder, she yelled, “Move it, Beth. We’re late.”

  Katherine jogged after her. And whose fault was that?

  They slipped into two seats on the back row of folding chairs. Everyone around them had an envelope of what must have been information about the mission trip. They’d have to get one afterward if there were any left. Katherine did have that chaperone’s information at home anyway.

  Brad leaned on the podium while a woman stood in the audience. He was apparently introducing her. The woman sat down, and Brad looked their direction. “And our last female chaperone is Katherine Herrington. Stand up, Katherine.”

  As she stood, the group politely applauded. How embarrassing that they were so late. She smiled and nodded.

  “Katherine is Cassie’s older sister. We’ve known each other since elementary school. She’s recently moved back to Crescent Bluff and will be a great asset to the team.”

  Katherine smiled and waved as obligatory applause rippled again through the audience. She dropped back down onto the cold plastic seat. At least they hadn’t completely missed the introductions.

  “And now for the male chaperones. Sam...”

  Katherine bolted forward as a man stood in the front row.

  “Sam Tucker...” Brad paused.

  The audience exploded with applause—well, at least the boys. Woofing reverberated throughout the tile-floored room as most of them pounded their fists in the air. One young man jumped up, threw both arms into the air over his head and yelled, “Gooooooooooal!” just like on TV.

  Cassie giggled, stood, and joined the mayhem.

  Sam hadn’t told Katherine he was helping chaperone this mission trip to Oklahoma. Of course, she hadn’t told him she was either.

  He stood, turned back toward the audience, and waved. His face was scarlet, and as the clamor died down, Brad continued, “For the one or two of you who may not know, Sam is a professional soccer player from England.”

  Brad’s words faded into the background as Sam made eye contact with her and smiled. The deep blue of his eyes was visible even from the back of the room. Butterflies fluttered as she smiled back. His hair appeared to have grown even more. It seemed impossible that such a little bit of hair could make that much difference in a person’s looks. But, obviously, it could, because if possible he was even more unbelievably attractive.

  As Sam pulled his gaze away in the direction of the other attendees, Brad’s words returned. “Sam and I go way back. A word of warning—he’s a snipe hunter extraordinaire.” Sam shook his head and then sat down as applause tore through the building again.

  Snipe hunting. Of course he would be the type of guy that would have done that. Just another of his crazy games.

  She’d had that cruel trick played on her in middle school. No, it was on that youth camping trip the first part of ninth grade. Some ridiculously immature little boy had lured her away from the rest of the group and tried to kiss her. She hadn’t thought about snipe hunting—or him—in years.

  What was his name, anyway? Seems like it was something to do with Texas history. Austin? Stephen Austin? No. Travis? William Travis? No. David? Davey Crockett? No, not that either. Houston! That was it. Sam Houston. A pile of bricks thudded in her stomach.

  Sammy Houston Tucker!

  ~*~

  Uh-oh, Katherine remembered, and she was really ticked. “Mind if I join you?” Unaffected by her silence, Sam set his plate of barbecue and cup of sweet tea on the table in the corner and sat down on the plastic folding chair across from her.

  “I deliberately chose this spot, Sam, because I’m not feeling particularly social at the moment.” Katherine paused as she stared straight into his eyes. “But would it really matter if I minded?”

  He leaned both elbows on the table and returned her stare. “Maybe. But...probably not.”

  She looked away first.

  They ate in silence for a few seconds. Or he did anyway. Katherine moved stuff around on her plate. She obviously wouldn’t say anything, so he may as well take advantage of her quiet. This was his chance. “I had a nice time last night. Thanks for going out with me. A few more sessions like that and my knee should be in great shape.”

  Ice.

  OK, time to change the topic. “Brad didn’t tell me you were going on the mission trip when he called last week and asked me to go. He thinks my experience will be a real asset to the team.”

  Her gaze found his. Fire.

  When she finally spoke, venom filled her response. “Oh, I had no idea we’d be doing any snipe hunting on this trip. Or maybe playing soccer. Yes, I’m sure those activities will be the focus of our mission trip.”

  “He meant my construction experience.”

  She was actually really cute when she was angry, but if he smiled now, he’d be dead meat. Sam looked down at his plate and crammed a bite of potato salad in his mouth.

  Cassie slid into the seat next to Katherine. “I’m really glad you’re going on the trip with us, Sam. It’ll be so much fun. Aren’t you glad, Beth?” N
ot waiting for a reply, Cassie continued, “I didn’t know you liked to hunt. What’s a snipe anyway?”

  Katherine pushed her plate away and folded her hands on the table. “Yes, Sam, please tell us about your snipe hunting experience. I’ve never seen a picture of one, and I’d love to know what they look like. I’ve always imagined that they resemble a rat...or maybe a snake.”

  Cassie’s forehead wrinkled as she turned toward her sister. “Beth, that’s dumb. Rats and snakes don’t look anything alike.”

  “Maybe not,” Katherine snapped back, “but they’re both nasty creatures, completely unappealing to mankind and especially womankind. Cassie, if anybody ever wants to take you snipe hunting, don’t go.”

  The angrier she got, the cuter she became. But if he didn’t do something to diffuse the situation soon, he’d be in way over his head. “Cassie, snipes are birds, but your sister’s kind of right. Snipe hunting is just a fun game, a trick to play on people. You take somebody out into the country at night and give him a bag or a pillow case—something big enough to hold a small animal. Then you tell him to stay in one place while you supposedly go off and scare the snipes back toward him. The idea is to abandon him and see how long it takes him to figure out the trick.”

  Cassie shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

  “Well, it is for the person playing the trick but sometimes, not for the person being tricked. In fact, there’s one person in particular that I took snipe hunting when I was about your age, Cassie, and I’d like to have the chance to apologize to her. I don’t think she enjoyed it too much.” He moved his gaze from Cassie’s to Katherine’s and then back to Cassie’s. “What do you think, Cassie? You think I should find her and apologize? You think she’d accept it after all these years?”

  Cassie shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know,” she replied, standing. “Hey, Beth, I’m going outside to play volleyball until you’re ready to go. See you later, Sam.”

  “Bye, Cassie.” Sam lifted up a hand in response and then turned back toward Katherine. “So what do you think I should do, Katherine? Do you think if I apologize to this person, she’d forgive me?”

  “I wouldn’t know, Sam.” She stood and picked up her plate and cup. She turned sharply and headed first for the garbage can and then toward the door into the hallway.

  He crammed some more brisket into his mouth and jumped up to follow her. When he reached the garbage can, he took one last bite and then tossed the almost-full plate. He should be arrested for throwing away such great barbecue. But she was definitely worth it.

  ~*~

  Katherine made a beeline up the hall toward the back door. She’d suddenly been on the bottom of a swimming pool, and no matter how hard she kicked, the weight of the water prevented her from making it to the top to breathe. She needed to get outside into some wide-open space where the Texas wind could rush across her face. Sam’s voice ran after her as she stepped through the door into the Saharan wind, “Beth, wait. Please.”

  So the few instances of his calling her Beth these last few weeks hadn’t been simple cases of misspeaking as she’d assumed, but clues from her—their—past. He’d obviously remembered her from the beginning, but she’d had no idea who he was. He’d changed so much, she could have never connected the scrawny little boy to this grown, but oftentimes not-so-mature, man.

  The door behind her opened as Sammy Houston Tucker followed her out. “Hey, can we talk?”

  She turned her back to him. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk. She just needed some time alone. “Sam, I...”

  “I’m really sorry for that night in ninth grade. I didn’t realize how mean it was. I mean, teenage boys can be pretty dumb sometimes. They have all these grown-up feelings and emotions, but their grade-school minds give them bad advice on how to communicate them. Especially when they have a crush on a girl.”

  So that’s what he really thought was going on here. She turned to face him and looked up into his eyes. He was so much taller than he’d originally appeared, almost as if he’d grown some over the past few weeks. “Sam, I’m not one of those people who can’t move past middle school angst. I’m not upset about snipe hunting that night.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” she asked.

  “Yes, I know. But I had to apologize for myself.” He took her hand, drew her close, and spoke gently. “You’re upset because you were caught by surprise. Beth, I’ve known who you were since before I held out that bouquet of tulips to you the night of our blind date. And it was wrong of me not to confess to you that very first night. I guess I was being selfish. I just wanted you to get to know me, Sam, now. I didn’t want any future relationship we might have to be colored by that past boy.”

  His usual smugness had disappeared, replaced by the same caring spirit she’d seen that Sunday afternoon at The Perks. His words completely summed up her feelings. She couldn’t have expressed herself any better.

  His eyes were gentle as he took her other hand. “So, Katherine, do you think that young lady I was asking about a few minutes ago would accept my apology? As I said, guys can do some pretty dumb things when they have a crush on a girl.”

  If only Clark had been this understanding and compassionate. There was that word again—passion, com-passion-ate.

  Heat that was no result of the Texas spring weather rushed through her body. Slowly withdrawing her hands from his, she stepped back. “Who knows? Maybe she’d accept it, or maybe she wouldn’t.” She may as well play his game and take advantage of his regret. After all, he’d set the precedent. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “But if you threw in some penance, I’m sure she’d be more likely to forgive.”

  As he crossed his arms, his eyes danced. “Penance, you say. Fair enough. Just tell me when and where.”

  “Tomorrow morning, my house, nine o’clock. Oh, and we’ll be outside, so dress cool in clothes that can be gotten dirty.”

  10

  Sam pulled the Texas Ranger cap down onto his head. The fuzz covering his head wasn’t enough to provide any real protection from sunburn, and they would be outside today. That was all she’d shared about his “penance.” Other than they’d be getting dirty.

  The rest of his clothing included flip-flops, one of Uncle Jess’s old college T-shirts, and some soccer shorts. The cargo shorts he’d originally pulled out of the drawer were too tight. He’d picked up some weight with good eating and not enough exercise. But now that the physical therapist had released him, he’d work some of the extra pounds off on some of the local jogging trails. He could even start by running drills with Cassie’s team. In a couple of months, he’d be back to his summer weight, and then by September, he’d be down to his playing weight. Coach would expect nothing less.

  He glanced at his phone: eight thirty. No time for breakfast. If he was late, Katherine might require additional penance, but that might not be such a bad thing—as long as she was participating in it, too.

  Grabbing his keys, he headed out the door to his car. Today would be really hot. The temperatures were already oppressive. And yet his heart was light. The burden he’d been carrying around since he’d tried to hand her those flowers on their blind date was gone. No more having to hide his past identity. She now knew, and that knowledge was very freeing.

  As he stuck the key in the ignition and turned it, the car sprang to life. Last night’s apology had scored one goal, and it was time to start setting up the next one.

  ~*~

  Although her phone had never rung, two missed calls from Clark had come in while she was taking a shower this morning, but he’d left no messages. If he’d really wanted to talk with her, he should have left a message. She’d been home almost a month now, and this was his first attempt to contact her. Maybe she’d call him later. Maybe she wouldn’t. Right now, she had other priorities.

  Katherine rubbed sunscreen on her arms and legs. If her father hadn’t been coming home tomorrow, she would h
ave waited to work on the garden until the end of the week when cooler, cloudy weather was predicted. But weeding the flowerbeds was the last item that waited to be checked off her to-do list, and her tank top and shorts should be cool enough. Plus, they’d be done long before the sun was high overhead—that is, if Sam got here on time.

  Sure, she’d taken advantage of his guilt when he’d asked for her forgiveness yesterday afternoon, and she wasn’t sorry in the least. He deserved it—as much as he had teased her and made her feel uncomfortable over the past few weeks. Now that she’d finally gotten the upper hand, she intended to keep it as long as she could. A little manual labor in the hot sun was hardly a fair trade for the embarrassment and discomfort he’d caused her.

  As the garage doorbell rang, she glanced at the kitchen clock—eight fifty-nine. Well, there were a lot of things on The List that he wasn’t, but prompt he was.

  She walked across the kitchen, grasped the doorknob, and pulled the door open. “Good Morn—” Her words stuck in her throat as she looked at the incredibly attractive man before her. The ball cap made him look younger while accentuating those Caribbean eyes. A model couldn’t have done any better.

  “Good Morn’ to you, too. Speaking Shakespearean English today, are we, m’lady?”

  She coughed softly. “Sorry. Something got caught in my throat. Hi, Sam.”

  “Hi.” He grinned as he held up a bag in one hand and a cardboard beverage caddy in the other. “Stopped and picked us up some bagels and iced coffee. Figured we...I...could use a little fuel before beginning my penance. Hope that’s OK.”

  He was such a thoughtful man. “Sure, that’s great. Have a seat at the island while I get us some plates.”

  “Forget the plates. Why don’t we eat outside on the swing? It’s a gorgeous morning and the barista put plenty of napkins in the bag.”

  As they stepped out onto the back deck, the soft potpourri of jasmine and lilac floated over her. “Great idea, Sam.”