The Gathering Place

by Thomas Kinkade

  “I know it’s hard for you to see it this way,” Emily said slowly, “but I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Wyatt to confront you. I’m sure he was pretty terrified.”

  “Yes, it took some spunk. I’ll grant him that much,” Dan said wearily. He shot her an annoyed glance. “Why are you so keen to see things from Wyatt’s point of view?”

  “Maybe because I’ve felt pressured my entire life to live up to my mother’s ideals. At least Wyatt was honest in a way I could never be,” she admitted.

  “That’s just my point. You turned out pretty good,” Dan said. “Maybe your mother knew what she was talking about.”

  “Dan, you know what I mean,” she said, pushing at his arm.

  They walked silently for a while, Emily matching Dan’s stride and watching the foamy edge of the water slide up the sand and nearly touch their shoes.

  Dan bent down, picked up a piece of driftwood, and tossed it into the waves. “I don’t know. Rejecting the paper is rejecting me in a way. It feels like that, anyway.”

  “Yes, I guess it must,” Emily agreed sympathetically. “But Wyatt seems to love newspaper work. He’s followed in your footsteps that far. Maybe he’s just not ready right now to take over. Right now he needs more time on his own, but in a few years, his life could be very different. He might wake up one day and decide that running the Messenger is a pretty good deal.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Wyatt might come around sometime. But where does that leave me? I didn’t plan on hanging around a few more years,” Dan said gruffly. “I didn’t even plan on a few more weeks!”

  Emily felt quietly stung by his words, though she knew he hadn’t meant to offend her. But she was part of his life now—the life Dan sounded so eager to leave.

  She suddenly felt so angry and frustrated, she just wanted to shake him. Oh, it was so hopeless. He had the perfect chance once again to cancel that infernal trip of his, but the thought never even crossed his mind.

  “I guess you’re stuck,” she said flatly.

  “Yeah, I am,” he agreed, oblivious to her dismay.

  “Isn’t there anyone you can hire to take over while you’re on your trip?”

  “No, that wouldn’t work. I don’t want to bring someone in from the outside. Who would come out here anyway for a temporary job like that?”

  “What about Lindsay? You said she’s been down there helping Wyatt out almost every day. Sara’s told me the same thing. Couldn’t she do it?”

  “She’s good with the business end of things, but . . . I just don’t think it would work out.”

  “Is it because she’s a woman?” Emily asked bluntly. Dan generally wasn’t like that, but maybe that was the problem here.

  “No, of course not. Lindsay’s intelligent, capable—I couldn’t respect her more,” he insisted. “But I can’t see her taking the paper. It just wouldn’t seem . . . right to me.” He glanced at Emily, as if she just didn’t get it. She wasn’t sure she did. “It’s hard to explain,” he said finally. “I saved the paper all those years for Wyatt. Not Lindsay.”

  “So now that you’ve ruled out the one possible candidate, what are you going to do?”

  “I really don’t know,” he said, after a moment. He turned and looked out at the waves, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m thinking of selling to Crown News.”

  “Crown News?” Emily felt her heart jump in her chest. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’ve been trying to buy me out for years. You know that. I never considered it before . . . but things are different now. I guess I’m going to sit down and finally hear what they have to say.”

  Emily was stunned. “I know you’re upset right now about Wyatt,” she said carefully, “but you can’t be serious.”

  “Really? Why not? I’ve given enough years to the Messenger. If Wyatt doesn’t want it, what’s the difference? At least I can cash in and get something for all my trouble.”

  “Dan, you despise Crown News,” she reminded him. “You can’t sell the Messenger to them. The town won’t have a conscience left—or a heart, for that matter.”

  “Oh, you’ll all survive,” he said darkly. “The paper will still be there, bigger and better than ever. I’m sure they’ll expand it, maybe even add a little color printing.”

  “No, it won’t be there,” Emily argued. “It will turn into some banal, interchangeable clone of all their other chain papers—with no identity, no soul. If you sell the Messenger, you’ll be making a huge mistake. Surely, you know that.”

  Dan’s eyes were dark with anger. “I don’t need any more advice right now, Emily. I didn’t ask you out here to make me feel worse than I already do.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she turned to look at the ocean, her arms hugged around her chest.

  Maybe she hadn’t been very sympathetic, but sometimes he was really impossible to talk to. This was one of those moments when she wished Dan had more faith. She wished he could believe, as she did, that even though things looked bleak, God was watching over him, ready to help if Dan called on Him. If only Dan could just let go a little and try to let God show him what to do, Emily thought in frustration. But though Dan respected her faith, he didn’t share it, and this was yet another place where they weren’t entirely compatible.

  He let out a long breath, then turned to look at her, his expression suddenly composed. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure it out. I just don’t see a lot of choices here.”

  “Sure . . . I understand. You don’t need a lot of advice right now; you need to think.” Emily gestured toward the shoreline. “I thought I’d take a short run out here. Do you mind?”

  “No, not at all. Perfect day for it.” She heard regret in his voice. Normally, Dan would have joined her, but his leg wasn’t strong enough for that, yet. “I’ll wait right here for you,” he offered.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” She turned and started jogging.

  Dan seemed relieved to be left alone, she thought. Maybe it was a good idea to put some distance between them, before she said anything more she might regret.

  The shoreline stretched out ahead, seemingly endless and empty. Emily decided to pray silently as she ran. Please God, help Dan get through this. He’s feeling so hurt and angry. He’s just not seeing clearly right now. Please help him forgive Wyatt and figure out the right thing to do.

  ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON SARA WALKED INTO TOWN TO DROP OFF SOME books at the library and stop at the post office. She passed by the Messenger office and thought about stopping in to say hello to Wyatt. She’d see him soon enough, she decided.

  She felt nervous about their upcoming date—not for the usual reasons but because she’d done some thinking about him and her feelings for Luke.

  They hadn’t spent any time alone together at work the past few days, which was just as well, she thought. Dan had been in the office, trying to carry on some sort of crash-course, editor-in-chief indoctrination, as far as Sara could see. She could also see that it wasn’t going very well for Wyatt. She expected that he’d want to talk about it tonight.

  She had something to talk about with him, too. She didn’t think she could start seeing him. Maybe someday in the future, but not right now. Ever since he asked her out, she’d tried hard to forget about Luke. But in her heart she knew it still hurt far too much for her to get involved with anyone new—even Wyatt, who was about as smart, funny, attractive, and charming as they get, Sara thought, with a sigh. That had to tell her something. Something like she really loved Luke and would probably love him for a long time. You just didn’t get over feelings like that so easily.

  A lot of her friends said the best way to get over a breakup was to start dating again. That didn’t feel right to Sara. It wasn’t fair to Wyatt, for one thing. She didn’t know exactly how she would tell him, but she knew she’d have to be honest.

  Returning home, she turned up Clover Street and headed for her apartment. As she drew closer, she noticed a man on the porch, standing
by her door. His back was turned to the street; she couldn’t tell who it was. Her first thought was that it might be Luke.

  Then he turned, and she could see it was Wyatt. “There you are. . . . I thought I might miss you,” he called out, as she stepped onto the porch to meet him.

  “Hi, what’s going on? I didn’t expect you until seven. Need some help at the paper?” she asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” he said. “I just came to say I can’t make our date tonight. . . . I’m going back to California.” He smiled and shook his head, as if he were laughing at himself. “How’s that for a creative reason to stand someone up? Sounds a little nuts, right?”

  “It’s a real good one,” Sara replied, still feeling confused. “You mean, you’re going back for a visit or something?”

  “No, more like a permanent change of address. Well, as permanent as it gets with me,” he amended. He leaned on the porch railing and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, staring up at him. “You mean, you’re leaving here? Giving up the paper?”

  “I’m leaving tonight. That’s why I came—to say good-bye.” He nodded, not looking entirely happy, she thought, but greatly relieved. Even his eyes had taken on a brightness she’d never noticed before. “It was a tough call,” he said, “but I think I’ve done the right thing.”

  “Sometimes you sounded as if you weren’t happy,” Sara said. “I thought it was just taking you time to get used to the place and coming back here.”

  “So did I at first. And so did my father,” he added.

  “Oh, gee . . . How did Dan take it?”

  “Not good. Not good at all.” Wyatt looked down and shook his head, letting out a breath. “I hope eventually he’ll understand I did the right thing. It’s a good paper. A great little paper, really. But running the Messenger is not for me. At least, not for now,” he said, looking back up at her.

  He sounded clear on his decision, and Sara sensed it was the right one for him.

  “Who’s going to take over?” she asked.

  Wyatt shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t think my father’s figured out what to do yet. But I’m going back to the Times. They’ve offered me a great job.”

  “That’s good, then,” Sara said, slowly smiling at him. “I think your father will see you’ve done the right thing someday.”

  “Someday. He can be sort of slow with these things,” Wyatt said. He stood up again and looked down at her. “I just wanted to say good-bye. It feels like we were just getting to know each other. I enjoyed working with you, Sara . . . and knowing you.”

  “Thanks. Me, too. I mean, when you weren’t tearing my writing to shreds,” she reminded him, with a smile.

  “Oh, I wasn’t so bad, was I?”

  “Yes, you were awful,” she cheerfully agreed. “But I learned a lot.”

  “You did,” he agreed. “Maybe you could come work for me at the L.A. Times someday. What do you think?”

  “Maybe someday,” she replied wistfully. “I need to sharpen my style a little first, though. Trim out the fluff.”

  “Right.” He nodded, laughing at her. She felt sad all of a sudden to see him go. Wistful over something that had never really gotten off the ground, she realized. Well, no matter what, it had been fun to know him, even for a short time.

  She put out her hand. “Good luck, Wyatt. I’m going to miss you,” she said honestly.

  He smiled and shook her hand, then pulled her close for a quick hug. “Good luck to you, Sara Franklin. I’m going to be watching for your byline.”

  She leaned back and smiled at him as he walked away. He was a great guy, she thought, but what her old college roommate would call “a definite almost.” Although she would miss him at the paper, Sara realized she didn’t regret that a real romance had never quite sprung up between them.

  DAN RETURNED TO THE PAPER ON MONDAY IN A BLACK MOOD. HE curtly greeted the staff as he passed by their desks. He could tell from their faces that they already knew Wyatt had bailed out. Still, when they gathered at his desk for the regular Monday morning meeting, he felt obliged to make an announcement. “As all of you know by now, Wyatt isn’t coming back. He’s taken another job in California.”

  They weren’t surprised at all, as he’d expected. Jane had been the first in today, and when he mentioned it to her, she said that Wyatt had called her yesterday to say good-bye. Maybe he’d called all of them. Still, it hurt him to say it out loud again.

  “Does that mean you’re back now for good, Dan?” Ed Kazinsky asked, sounding hopeful.

  “No, I’m not coming back permanently,” Dan said, more sharply than he intended. “I . . . I’m not sure what’s going to happen, Ed. I haven’t figured it out, yet. But I still intend to retire from the newspaper business.”

  Dan looked down at his notes and then over at the story board. “So, let’s see, you’ve got the Zoning Board today and the town council tomorrow night, Jane—”

  “The town council is still figuring out that fight with the county over the grant money,” Lindsay cut in. “Sara’s working on that story now,” she reminded him.

  “Oh, right . . .” He glanced at Sara. “I guess you ought to take it then.”

  Sara nodded and made a note for herself.

  “So you take the School Board meeting, Jane. Has anyone seen the police report from the weekend? There’s an item in there about some kids skating on thin ice near the mill bridge. They fell in, but a guy working on phone lines fished them out.”

  “I just put a call in to Officer Tulley about that. He’s going to get right back to me,” Ed said.

  “Good. Let’s see, what else do we have?” Dan continued. He was back again. Almost as if he’d never left. He felt as if he were in a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

  “YOU HAD A CALL WHILE YOU WERE OUT, DAD. I TOOK A MESSAGE FOR you,” Lindsay said. “It’s on your desk.”

  Dan walked over to his desk and put down the bag that held a sandwich and coffee. It was Thursday afternoon. The staff was out covering stories and only Lindsay was left in the office. He sat down at his desk, then noticed Lindsay still standing nearby, staring at him.

  “What is it? Something the matter?” he asked.

  “Why are you having a meeting with Ted Kendall?”

  He felt frozen. Caught. He glanced at the message slip and saw that the business manager at Crown News had called to confirm their appointment.

  “I’m going to talk to him about possibly selling the paper.”

  Lindsay drew closer, nearly dropping the folders in her hand. “Dad, I know you feel bad about Wyatt, but you can’t do that,” she insisted.

  “That’s funny. Emily said the same thing. Why can’t I sell the paper if I want to? It’s mine, isn’t it? Nobody else wants to take it over,” he argued.

  He knew he sounded hurt, even petulant at this point, but he couldn’t help that. He’d been blindsided by his own son, and he still felt stunned.

  “Oh, really?” she said harshly. She slammed down the files on her desk and turned to glare at him. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

  Dan sat up in surprise. “What did I say?” he asked quietly. “It wasn’t my plan to sell the paper. But I can if I want to.”

  “What about me? What about giving me the paper? Didn’t that possibility ever cross your mind?”

  Now she’d caught his full attention, her distress finally shaking him loose from his torpor.

  “I did think of you, Lindsay, but—”

  “But what? Too far afield of the family tradition?” she chided him. “I’ve been here for weeks, pulling the slack for Wyatt, keeping things afloat. I thought when we talked about the paper before Christmas that you realized that.”

  “I do realize that,” he insisted. “You’ve been a great help here. You’ve done a great job—”

  “But what?” she repeated, cutting him off again. “You never really considered giving me the paper, Dad. If you had, you woul
dn’t be sneaking off to see Ted Kendall.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking anywhere,” he said. “I was going to tell you.”

  “When? After you signed the contract?” Lindsay looked infuriated, her fair complexion mottled and pink. “I can’t believe you shut me out like this. I can’t believe you didn’t even talk this over with me. Even if you thought maybe I didn’t really want the paper, or I wasn’t ready to run it . . .”

  Her voice trailed off, and he thought she might cry. He felt heartsick. How had this happened? He’d never meant to hurt her. Not Lindsay, of all people.

  “Lindsay, honey, let’s just calm down a minute and talk.”

  “No. I’m too mad at you now. I’m not going to try to talk you into it, if my taking over the paper was so unthinkable in the first place,” she said flatly. She took a deep breath, and he could see her calming down a little.

  “Scott and I have some money to invest now that he’s not going to open that restaurant,” she said. “Maybe I’ll buy the paper from you. Would you let me run it if I paid you for it? I can’t see why not. You’d let Crown,” she added.

  Her offer sent him reeling. Lindsay buying him out? He had no idea she had such strong feelings about the paper.

  “You don’t have to buy it from me. Don’t be ridiculous. This paper is a family asset. I was going to give you and Wyatt some of the proceeds,” he told her.

  “I’m going home now. You don’t need me here,” she said quickly, as she gathered her things.

  “Lindsay . . . wait . . .” He stood up and reached out to touch her arm.

  “No, Dad. I mean it. It’s okay,” she insisted. “I guess I hoped that once you got over losing Wyatt, you’d think about me. Sometimes it’s like you’re walking around with blinders on. You’re so rigid and stubborn, you can’t see past your own nose.”

  “That’s not true. I thought about this a lot. I considered all the possibilities,” he sputtered.