Wally glanced away, chewing on his bottom lip. “I was going to. But I won’t make the Kingdom if I don’t choose peace instead of fighting.”
His words made her breath catch. “Wally! You’re a believer now? When?”
A shy smile spread and his eyes twinkled. “A few weeks ago. For an old man, I’m just a baby.”
She hugged him again, thinking her heart would burst or she’d fly around the parking lot. “I’m so happy for you.”
Joyful tears started and when she released him, his eyes were glistening. “I’m mighty happy myself. I’ve been watching and listening to you and Jade and Zach. I’ve met lots of good people in my day, some from churches, some not. There was something different about you three.”
“Really? What?” She waited, excited to hear his answer, while he paused, eyes searching the night sky.
“Joy is the word, I think. The three of you not only love to help, you take real joy in it. It’s made an impression on me. And here I am.”
Oh, thank you, Lord.
They shared a huge grin. She asked, “Monica, too?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure she will soon. Her heart’s softening. Like mine did.”
“I’ll be praying for her. Oh, Wally. I’m so happy.” She floated through the rest of the gleaning, overseeing the process while she rejoiced inside. Afterward, armed with a small bag of éclairs, she made her way to Kevin and Casey’s house to drop them off. She grinned when she imagined Casey’s delight at the treat before she realized he’d probably gone to bed by now.
A murmur of raised voices grabbed her attention when she started down the driveway. The words grew more audible. Her steps slowed. That was Sheila’s voice in there, arguing with Kevin. Oh no. She hoped Casey was in bed. She hesitated at the door, arm poised to knock. Maybe she should wait for a break. The way they were yelling, they weren’t likely to hear her until then.
She swallowed. Sheila’s voice held a strident, cruel tone. “Shut up, Kevin. You say the same things every time. Just proves you’ll never change.”
“I’m the same as when you married me, and you loved me then. You’ve changed, and not for the better, Sheila. Abandoning your family to take a higher paying job? That’s not the girl I married.”
“The girl you married was an idiot. Anything you did was okay. Come home drunk? Sure. Come home from the war and hardly speak to anyone for years, including me? Drink all day on your day off? I’m not stupid anymore. I want a better life, and it’s not my fault that you don’t.”
A loud thud jarred the wall near the window to Julie’s left. She recoiled, afraid of what might be happening inside.
Sheila’s voice rose in a mocking tone. “Oh, that will make everything better. Punch holes in the wall. Is that supposed to scare me or impress me?”
Kevin’s voice sounded weary and resigned. “I’m not interested in scaring you and I don’t care what impresses you anymore. I did my best for you, and you make it sound like I did nothing right.”
Sheila laughed. “Your best? That was your best?”
The scorn in her voice ripped through Julie with a blast of pain. Poor Kevin. And even if Casey was in bed, he must be awake and hearing all this. Probably laying there crying and heartbroken. She had to do something. She gave a loud rap on the door, startling herself with the force she used. Her knuckles stung with a dull ache. She needed to calm herself fast. There was enough emotion swirling in there already.
Kevin swung the door open and his tight expression relaxed into a shadow of his usual smile. “Hi Julie. C’mon in.”
Sheila crossed her arms and regarded Julie as she stepped inside and shut the door.
“Hello,” Julie managed, embarrassed at the way her voice cracked. She swallowed.
“No point in pretending you didn’t hear what’s going on,” Sheila barked. “Why are you here?”
Julie held out the bag and cleared her throat. “I brought some éclairs for Casey and Kevin.”
Sheila swiped it from her and threw it on the end table. “Some of your dumpster food? Don’t bring this crap in my house anymore.” She rubbed her forehead and spat out, “You’re always around, aren’t you? Ever since high school. Lurking nearby and butting in.”
Kevin’s jaw clenched and his cheeks flushed. “Leave her alone, Sheila. She’s been a good friend to both of us. All of us.”
“Where’s Casey?” Julie asked. “He shouldn’t be hearing this.”
“So now you know what’s best for my son?” Sheila shook her head. “He’s at my mother’s. Give me some credit. Or maybe that wouldn’t serve your purposes.”
Julie kept her voice calm and even, though the unexpected dislike in Sheila’s eyes made her back so tense, she had to clench her muscles to keep them from trembling. “I don’t have any purpose other than helping, if I can.”
Sheila’s lips pursed while she nodded. A short contemptuous laugh escaped her. “Helping. I see. I kind of figured once I left, you’d want to help yourself to my family. Wedge right in, and use that wide-eyed nice girl routine to make me seem even worse by comparison. You’ve always wanted Kevin. Be honest for once.”
Julie’s heart quailed at the accusations. Kevin stared at her, eyes round and shocked. The truth in the statement shattered her. She thought she’d hid her desperate longing for Kevin. She’d ached for him all through the last two years of high school. Wore a determined smile during his and Sheila’s wedding, and sobbed all night afterwards, knowing she’d never be with him.
Nobody knew the whole story except God. Finally, deliverance came after years of prayer. Kevin was dear to her and always would be. But the awful yearning was gone, leaving peace behind.
Julie drew in a breath. “It’s a long time since high school, Sheila. I did have feelings for Kevin, but that’s old news now. All I want is to keep being your friend. Help you both if I can.”
Kevin sank down onto a chair while Sheila flashed a triumphant smile. “I knew it. Pardon me if I don’t trust your motives, or how much you want to help.” She lifted the éclair bag and let it dangle between her thumb and index finger, as though it were radioactive. She swung it at Julie. “You can leave now. We don’t need your help, or your rotten food.”
Julie glanced at Kevin, but he kept his eyes averted. What was he thinking? She almost jumped when Sheila shouted, “Stop looking at my husband. Go!”
Julie rushed out, tears falling as she sped home. Please God, please help them. They must still love each other somewhere inside. Help them find it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
All week at work, Mark found his attention traveling to Julie in ways it hadn’t before. Her new openness with him and Chris at first spiked his curiosity, but grew into fascination at her unguarded facial expressions and reactions. She laughed, conversed, hummed, and came up with humorous observations. Her personality change reminded him of one of his mother’s drab cactus plants that would suddenly bloom with amazing flowers.
This afternoon she started laughing at her station. He stopped trimming out a strip steak and asked, “What?”
She glanced at him with twinkling eyes before looking back down at the onions she chopped. “I was remembering a dream I had last night.” She giggled. “Sometimes I have the weirdest dreams. I don’t know if you ever played this old video game called Pilot Wings, but my brother Matt got obsessed with it. And he loved to make me play the hang-gliding part because I always fell upside down in the water, and we both thought it was hilarious. Maybe I was thinking of that before I went to sleep or something.”
She peeled another onion and started chopping. “Anyway, in my dream, I’m watching my brother practice flying a plane, but I can only hear the plane, I can’t see it. When he comes into view, he’s sitting in a chair that has a parachute-type thing behind it, and it’s only a few feet off the ground. He messes up the landing, the thing goes upside down and he falls out on his head. I’m scared he’s really hurt and I’m staring at the chair which was supposed to be a plane.
He pops up, kicks the chair, and then flops back down. He looks a little dizzy and when I run over he says, “I’m not flying that plane again.”
Mark chuckled as she tilted her head back, laughter rippling out. The delight in her face captivated him. Uh-oh. He never planned on feeling attraction for Julie. Not his type at all. He glanced back down and concentrated on trimming the steak. He waited until her laughter slowed and asked, “So, do you believe dreams mean anything?”
Chris laughed. “What would that one mean? Don’t fly any parachute chairs?”
Julie’s laugh rang out again. It was infectious and Mark couldn’t help joining her. She brought the bowl of chopped onions to Chris. “My dreams never make sense anyway. Figuring them out would be too much like math class.”
“I like math,” Chris said.
Julie grinned at him. “You can have it.”
Later when he strode into the cooler for more meat, Mark brushed against her as she walked out with some salad vegetables.
A strong tingle raced up his arm where he’d made contact with her. “Oops, sorry,” he managed. This better stop. First the weird panic sensation, now this. He forced his attention back to the dinner service, but even so, his awareness of her intruded and disturbed him.
His plan to spy on her again tonight and find out if she took anything from the restaurant soured a bit, even though he’d warmed to the idea of walking her home. He wasn’t sure now if he wanted to discover what she might be up to. Perhaps if he ignored whatever she was doing, he could return to being oblivious to her. That would be a welcome relief. Nothing should take his focus off doing his job well.
Mark finished his cleanup and tried to ignore Julie’s nightly trip into the cooler. He should leave now. Chris and the waitresses milled near the door, donning coats. Mark approached the door and spotted Barlow pulling up outside. Uh-oh. What if he caught Julie taking something?
He hurried back to the cooler and popped his head in. “Barlow’s here.”
“Oh?” She turned, holding two packed bags and sounded concerned, but not guilty. “Wonder what he wants at this hour?”
“Hope he doesn’t want to eat.” Mark gave a wry grin.
She set the bags down on a shelf and stepped out. “If he does, I can fix him something. I don’t mind.”
Mark knew she must be tired, but could tell her willingness was genuine. “Well, let’s see what he wants. I can stay too, if need be.”
Mr. Barlow hustled into the back, a smile spreading when he saw Julie. “Just the girl I want to see.” He glanced at Mark. “You can go home if you’re finished. I need to speak to Julie in private.”
Mark exchanged a glance with Julie, puzzled at the unusual request. She didn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable. His curiosity spiked, but he turned to go. “All right. See you tomorrow.”
He sat in his car, watching the restaurant while the interior of the car warmed up. What did the boss want with her? Barlow was somewhat of a womanizer, but he’d never cozied up to Julie before. He’d also never seen Julie with any guy in the two years he’d known her. She was so secretive. Maybe she and Barlow had something going on. No, she wouldn’t be likely to take things from work if she was involved with the boss.
The idea of her as a thief, mistress, or both, almost made him laugh. He couldn’t be that wrong about her, could he? She didn’t come off like someone who could do those things, but then he’d experienced his share of shocks at some of the things people were capable of. How many times had he watched the news only to hear the same refrain about someone who’d done something awful? “But he was such a nice, quiet person. It’s such a shock.” Male or female, people could commit some pretty awful stuff.
Ten minutes passed, and now it was too hot in the car. He turned the defroster way down. He should leave. But what if Barlow was pressuring her, or making a pass at her in there? She might need his help, but he couldn’t do much good out here. He rubbed his face, frustrated.
His imagination needed reining in. Barlow wasn’t the aggressive type and Julie might be an accommodating kind of person, but she wasn’t a sap to get pushed around by him. But why else would he want to speak alone with her? She wasn’t one of the chefs. He might suspect she’d been stealing, and was firing her, or about to have her arrested. His stomach clenched at the thought.
Mark drew in a breath and shook his head at himself. His mind was running in all sorts of weird directions today. He needed to go home and wind down, get a good night’s sleep. One of his favorite cooking competitions was on TV in an hour or so. He squinted at the restaurant window. No sign of anyone coming out. Well, he could wait a little longer.
To distract his thoughts, he pondered the possibility of taking some culinary courses at the local university. He didn’t know enough about all the spices and herbs, or the new technological cooking techniques. And some of the exotic ingredients on various cooking shows were completely out of his knowledge base. He’d never be a real chef in a big restaurant if he didn’t learn more.
Why had he been so unfocused after high school? He could have taken out loans and gone to culinary school. But he wasn’t aware of his knack for cooking until the pizza-making job. After a while the novelty wore off and he wanted to branch out and try different dishes, but the owner refused to serve anything other than the menu items he’d always offered, so Mark moved on.
He appreciated Barlow’s willingness to experiment with a few new things, but in his dreams, he worked in his own place, creating new dishes whenever he wanted. He closed his eyes, smiling at the satisfying thought of such freedom to experiment. He loved to watch cooking challenges where the chefs were expected to create something they’d never made, while working with a limited set of ingredients. While he viewed the show, his mind would percolate with ideas about how he’d manage the task.
Last night, his neighbors in the next apartment pounded on his wall after he spent a few raucous minutes shouting suggestions at a TV chef in the middle of a hectic challenge. He often forgot most people went to bed around the time he got home from work. He yelled ‘Sorry’ and made himself whisper any further comments.
Barlow exited the restaurant. Good. When Julie appeared, bags in hand, he hopped out of the car and strode over. “Let me take those for you.”
Julie’s eyes widened. “Thought you went home.”
“I was warming the car up and lost time daydreaming and looking at the sky.” He glanced up at the starless overcast night. “Trying to spot some stars I guess, but didn’t see any.”
Julie’s brow furrowed. “Oh.”
He reached out. “I’ll carry those.”
“You don’t have to.”
He chuckled, annoyed at the nervous twinge inside whenever she looked at him. “Of course I don’t. But I’d like to.”
Why didn’t she hand them over instead of staring at him? She shrugged and gave him the bags. They walked in silence for a few paces while he wondered what to say. He wanted to ask what Barlow wanted, but he might not want to hear the answer.
“Getting pretty chilly at night now,” he offered, hating how lame it sounded. He eyed the bags in his hand, scrutinizing them for anything suspicious, but their contents were nearly identical to the first ones he’d carried.
“Winter’s around the corner.” She grinned at him. “I know. ‘The dead time,’ right?”
He laughed and nodded. “Right. I suppose if I liked winter sports, it’d be different, but other than snowball fights and sledding as a kid, I’m not thrilled about snow.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you work indoors with food. Weather doesn’t matter to that.”
“True. Except for the various seasonal foods, but that doesn’t affect our menu much.”
She studied him. “Would you like it to?”
“Sure. I’d love to offer more seasonal stuff on the menu. A real Finger Lakes showcase. We’ve got such good products and wine in this area.”
“And have you noticed all the local a
rtisan cheeses getting offered lately? I could live on cheese, but some of them are pretty pricey.”
“Funny, isn’t it?” He let out a short, wry laugh. “We can’t really afford to buy some of the ingredients we work with.”
The pleasing sound of her laughter made him smile. An idea popped in his mind. “We should go on the cheese trail tour coming up in a few weeks. That way you can sample all the cheese you want, probably get some at a good price, too.”
Her expression faded from happy to pensive. Though she’d warmed to him lately, he must have overstepped his bounds. Embarrassment heated his middle while he tried to think of something to smooth things over and make him feel less stupid. Being near her made his usual sense of control turn clumsy.
He cleared his throat. “Of course, it’s hard to find enough time to do extra things.”
“That’s true.” She shot a glance at him through her eyelashes. “Maybe we could plan on it, though. I’d love to try all the local cheeses.”
His fallen spirits rose. Perhaps she’d stopped disdaining him after all. “Good. I’ll check into it.”
He halted in front of her apartment house. “Well, here you go.”
Her recent casual ease around him underwent an abrupt change. He sensed it in her quick glance and rather nervous smile. She took the bags from him, ducked her head, and said, “Thanks. See ya,” before she hustled into the house.
He stood a moment longer, staring at the door, watching the steam of his exhaled breath rise and evaporate into the chilly air. He murmured, “Goodnight, Julie.”
All the way home, that bashful smile of hers haunted him. Funny. He’d never found shyness an attractive quality before.
CHAPTER NINE
Now what was that all about? Did Mark just ask her on a date? And she agreed? She settled into her chair, arms crossed. She didn’t want to date him. He was shallow, casual. No depth. Wasn’t he? One of those guys who got by because he was well spoken and attractive. Skimming along the surface of things, like a water bug. Or a jet plane, or a loud fancy car, leaving a big trail of exhaust and shattered eardrums in his wake.
A Work in Progress Page 6