“Yasmin has been angry about the modeling situation for way too long.” Aunt Melba straightened after sliding the last pan into place. “I understand that that’s her dream, but if that’s what God intends for her to do, he’ll bring her back to it.”
“Oh really. When? How?”
Indigo, Rachelle, and Aunt Melba turned to find a defiant Yasmin leaning her lanky frame against the doorway and scowling.
“None of you seem to realize how the modeling industry either embraces you or spits you out. At seventeen I’m in my prime. I should be on runways in Paris and participating in fashion shoots in New York. But Mama and Daddy want to keep me sheltered. They don’t want to let go of their baby.” She walked over to the table, plopped in a seat, and laid her head down. “Maybe now that Reuben’s family is coming, they won’t miss me if I leave.”
Indigo raised an eyebrow at Yasmin, but for the first time recognized the unflattering truth about herself. Aunt Melba and Rachelle were right—all of her whining and pouting over Reuben made her sound like a petulant teenager. Not pretty. She needed to get it together.
“Yasmin, what’s that supposed to mean?” Indigo asked. “Don’t act like you don’t remember. Mama and Daddy pulled you out of your modeling contract because your roommate for one of the Dallas jobs got caught with cocaine, and because another model you befriended began struggling with bulimia. They were scared that you would start making yourself throw up again.
“What should they have done, Yas? Let you go down the tubes with those folks? If the pressure was causing those girls to suffer, why wouldn’t it affect you too? I think they did the right thing.”
Yasmin glared at Indigo. “I wasn’t Meghan or Lila. I had already been treated for bulimia, and I loved my job. You think I would have messed that up by doing something stupid? Think about it—I worked for Ford Models! Mama and Daddy had no right to kill my career.”
Indigo shook her head. “Yas, you’re so young. It’s too early to call anything in your life ‘dead.’ Another opportunity will come around when the time is right.”
Aunt Melba walked over to Yasmin and stroked the girl’s long black hair, which was streaked with burgundy and blonde highlights. “Who’s going to hire you with this punk rock look, anyway? Since when did you find this style becoming?”
Yasmin sighed. Indigo knew the answer her sister wouldn’t dare share: Yas’s new friends had encouraged it. It looked awful, but it matched the girl’s attitude.
Rachelle dried the last dish, folded the dishtowel, and laid it on the island. “I want to go back to what Yasmin said a few minutes ago, about Reuben. Sounds like you have the same concerns as Indigo about his return. What gives?”
Yasmin pursed her lips. “I knew I shouldn’t have come in here when I heard the three of you talking. We’re not at the salon. I’m not up for a ‘Pour-out-your-heart, ladies only’ session right now.”
Indigo, Rachelle, and Aunt Melba didn’t budge.
“What do you want me to say?” Yasmin finally responded. “Reuben’s alright. He’s my brother and all, and I guess I love him. But I really don’t know him. All I know is that he can do no wrong, at least in Mama and Daddy’s eyes. I can’t go out with my friends, model, or skip church or the youth group meeting without getting grief, but if he sneezes the wrong way, Mama and Daddy declare it marvelous.” Yasmin leaned back and crossed her arms.
“We’ll see what happens. But until Reuben gives me a reason to personally be excited about his return home, I’ll keep wondering, what’s the big deal.”
Indigo again heard an infantile version of her own complaints in her sister’s response and acknowledged the truth about herself— she was both jealous and selfish. But it sounded like it wouldn’t matter. Mama and Daddy were going to lavish an extraordinary amount of love on Reuben and his family no matter what. Even Yasmin saw that.
“Your brother’s return is a big deal, you two,” Aunt Melba said. “It just is. And since we’re all family, we’re going to find a way to celebrate him and be sincere about it.” She looked at Yasmin. “I’m not getting in the middle of your parents’ decision about your modeling career, Yasmin. You have to trust that they had your best interest at heart. But until you stop whining about it and acting bitter, you’re going to kill a lot more of the dreams that are within your reach. You can’t recognize new opportunities when you’re stuck on what happened in the past.”
Then Melba turned toward Indigo. “I’ll talk to Irene about all of this whenever the time seems right. In the meantime, looks like Rachelle and I’ll have to get busy helping you finalize everything for the wedding.”
Indigo smiled, but her heart was still sad.
These two ladies were more than just a cousin and aunt. They were like another pair of mothers. But they still didn’t replace Mama. Mama had been there when she had picked out the dress she intended to wear when she was engaged to marry Brian. Mama stood by her when she had ended that relationship and had cried with her when she called to tell her that she had fallen in love with Max. When Max proposed a year later, they had celebrated together.
Indigo was grateful for Aunt Melba’s and Rachelle’s loyalty and support; but before she became someone’s wife, she prayed that she could share this special time with the woman who had raised her, without the thought of, or the needs of, Reuben lurking in the shadows.
5
Max and Indigo strolled to her car, parked in front of her parents’ house, with their arms around each other’s waist.
When they reached her Jetta, Max leaned against the driver’s side door and pulled Indigo toward him. He enveloped her in a hug and leaned his head toward her for a kiss. Despite the veil of darkness, she saw the tenderness in his eyes and melted. She could stay like this all night. For the first time today, everything felt right in her world.
“You okay?” he asked, just above a whisper.
Indigo nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay. Did I show out too much at dinner tonight?”
“Yes, you did. But I still love you.”
Indigo loved the fact that he was honest with her, no matter what. No secrets, no sugarcoating reality; just the truth, from the heart.
“I’m glad,” she said and sighed. She laid her head on his muscular chest and hugged him tighter, knowing what would come next.
Max had to be curious about whether she’d reached a decision on his offers. She hadn’t, though, because she knew she was too close to the situation. She wanted some objective feedback from Mama.
If that wasn’t going to happen, maybe she should just talk to Rachelle and Aunt Melba, and rely on Shelby to share her perspective as a fairly new wife.
“Want me to follow you home so we can talk or watch a movie?” he asked. It was Friday night, and if they hadn’t been arm-twisted into dinner by Mama, they would have gotten together anyway when he finished his photo shoot to grab a bite to eat and catch a movie.
It wasn’t late by their standards—just 9:30 p.m. But Indigo felt drained. Plus, she didn’t want to get into a deep discussion with him until she’d had some time to think about how she wanted to start her married life. Their wedding was just a few months away, so Max had every right to know how she was feeling about the suggestions he’d made for their business and personal lives. But she wasn’t ready to give him answers. She still felt too uncertain about one of his requests.
She looked up at him and smiled.
“I think I’m going to pass tonight on hanging out, if you don’t mind. Maybe I just need to go home and get in bed, so I can wake up with a new attitude.”
Max peered at her and smirked. “You mean to tell me all the drama that happens every time your brother visits could be alleviated with an extra nap? Try again, babe. You just aren’t ready to talk about our future, are you?”
She looked away, but Max gently grasped her chin and turned her head back toward him. He looked into her eyes and kissed her.
“You take some time for yourself tonight, Indie. I’
ll go by the studio and get caught up on some work. See you in the morning?”
She was embarrassed, yet grateful. “Thanks for being patient with me, Max. I love you, baby. See you in the morning—I’ll cook you breakfast, okay?”
“Since I can’t get any answers from you, at least have my pancakes, omelet, and bacon ready in the morning.”
Indigo raised an eyebrow. “Watch it, brother. You’re marrying Indigo Burns, not my mother, Irene. In a minute, I’m going to invite you over to cook for me while I sit and watch.”
They both laughed. Max stepped away from the door and opened it so Indigo could slide into the driver’s seat. He leaned down and kissed her again.
“Call me when you get home, okay? And try to take it easy— things with Reuben are going to work out. You may have to sit your parents down and tell them how you’re feeling. You never know how that could help.”
Indigo placed her hands on the steering wheel and shrugged. “I’ll think about it,” she said, doubting even as she spoke that Mama and Daddy would be willing, or able, to appreciate her concerns. She would be happy at this point to get them to talk to her about anything unrelated to her brother and his family.
Max closed Indigo’s car door and trotted over to his SUV. He waved before jumping in and flicking on the headlights. Indigo started her car and followed him down the block and out of the subdivision. When they reached a main road, Max waved from his rearview mirror and turned right. Indigo waited for the traffic light to switch to green and turned left.
She lowered the radio volume as strains of Jazmine Sullivan’s latest hit floated from the speakers, and sighed.
With or without getting others’ opinions, she was going to have to talk with Max tomorrow about where they would live and how they would work.
Not only did Max want to buy a house together now, so they could move in right after the wedding, he also wanted her to become co-owner of his photography studio, before the ink dried on their wedding license. The thought of co-owning property and a business before she got used to saying her new last name rattled her.
Her heart told her yes—take this man, his offers, and run all the way to the altar. This time, she wasn’t second-guessing herself. She had no doubts that Max Shepherd was her soul mate. They shared the same values as well as the same career, and he had a strong work ethic and commitment to serving others. He was thoughtful and generous, and he just happened to be fine. Her heart swelled with pride when she was with him, simply because he was a good man. With one look, or by uttering a syllable of her name, he grabbed her attention and caused her heart to beat faster.
Still, her practical side was wary of the red flags. Namely, whether it was wise for them to be together 24/7, no matter how much in love they were. She wondered if they would need time apart to keep from taking each other for granted, or simply to miss each other enough to look forward to reconnecting each evening.
She sighed and dialed Shelby’s number. When she didn’t get an answer, she glanced at the clock on her dashboard. Of course. It was 10 p.m. Shelby and Hunt were on a date of their own.
Indigo pulled into the parking space in front of her townhouse and grabbed her oversized leather purse from the driver’s seat. She briskly walked the well-lit path to her front door and stepped inside.
She auto-dialed Max’s number on her cell as she slid out of her shoes and picked them up to take them to her bedroom. “I’m here, babe,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
“Get some rest, okay? No fretting about Reuben and his crew.”
Indigo laughed and flopped across her bed. “Yes sir. Love you.”
She laid the phone beside her on the comforter and closed her eyes. Max was off track tonight. She was thinking about him right now, instead of her brother. His plan to sell his brick rancher so they could start off in a new home suited her fine. She hadn’t been too keen on trying to remodel his bachelor pad anyway. But whether she should join him in work was the troubling question.
She stayed as she was, stretched out across her bed with her eyes closed, and mentally ran down the list of pros and cons about Max’s offer. She started with the pros: since her move back to Jubilant from New York City a year ago, she had been able to use Max’s studio to process photos she shot on the freelance jobs that took her all over the country and sometimes to other parts of the world. Max had been a professional photographer about five years longer than she. Operating a joint business would be efficient and could be marketed to raise both of their profiles; and Max was a good businessman. His plans were usually successful.
She rolled onto her side and grabbed a pillow to hug. Time to consider the potential cons: merging business and personal decisions could put a strain on their relationship if they didn’t always see eye to eye. One of her goals was to try more creative projects and accept unusual business opportunities, while Max veered toward safe and steady clients, regardless of whether the assignments were exciting or fulfilling. And could they truly shut off work at the end of the day and make their home a haven?
The list of pros outnumbered the cons, but Indigo knew the two cons could cause serious issues. Would Mama urge her to dive in, or be cautious, even with a man she trusted completely?
Indigo had lived and traveled enough to know that anything worth having didn’t have to be, and probably shouldn’t be, rushed. Her experience with her former fiancé, Brian, and a few other disappointments, were tender proof.
She needed Mama’s sound reasoning to balance her giddiness. Mama would tell her whether to follow her heart or check the emotions at the door. With Mama not available though, where should she turn? Indigo rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Her gaze landed on her nightstand, on her Bible.
Why hadn’t she thought to pray about this? The question came with a twinge of guilt, and she realized it was deserved. In all of her fussing and waiting on Mama, she hadn’t done the one thing that she knew would be at the top of Mama’s list of advice: pray about it.
Indigo stared at the ceiling and tried to find the words to talk to God about her concerns. Finally, she released what was filling her heart.
Tell me what to do about it, God. All of it. My life with Max. My feelings toward Reuben. My fears about the future. Tell me, and help me hear you.
She pushed herself up off the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, and unbidden, the kind of response Aunt Melba would give her came to mind. Or was it God?
Whatever the source, she realized that simply asking God for answers wasn’t going to be enough. This “voice” cautioned her that whenever and however God replied, she would have to find the courage to act on what he said.
6
Peyton could call it “the favor of God” if she wanted. Whatever.
Reuben was simply thrilled that their 2,500-square-foot contemporary home had sold within seven days of being put on the market. Seattle routinely ranked as one of the best places to live, but a turnaround of that speed exceeded his expectations.
Now, three weeks later, Reuben and his family were settling into a spacious, single-floor, all-brick home twice the size of their place in Washington State. The cheaper cost of living had allowed them to purchase more house and land, and to afford upgrades and the special equipment they wanted to install to make the place as easy as possible for Peyton to become familiar with and call her own.
She maneuvered fairly well in most settings, but when your home could truly be your haven, all the better.
Reuben trotted down the three steps that led into the sunken family room and found Peyton counting her footsteps as she walked its perimeter. He let her finish before speaking.
“Have you decided where you want the sofa?”
Her luscious locks bobbed at her shoulders when she nodded. They framed her cocoa face perfectly and drew attention away from her unfocused eyes. She looked as adorable as she had the day Reuben had met her in downtown Seattle, trying to make it to jury duty on time.
“Let’s put the sofa in front of the fireplace,” Peyton finally said and pointed in the right direction. “I just counted off steps for the love seat, so it can go behind me, to the left of the sofa.”
“What about my chair?”
“Will it work in that corner near the wall of windows, where we’ll also have the bookcase?”
Reuben had been married to Peyton for six years and had dated her for a year before that, and it still amazed him how quickly she could orient herself to surroundings she couldn’t see. Sighted people would have more trouble than this decorating a room; she breezed through it.
Before they moved in, Reuben hired contractors to outfit the house with surround sound features and computer technology that spoke to Peyton when she entered a room and helped her know whether the lights were on or off, or whether the oven temperature or thermostat were set correctly.
Otherwise, Peyton ruled the world with her cane, a keen sense of hearing, and a willingness to allow strangers to help her get where she was going. She’d had a guide dog as a teenager, but when Beau died suddenly from a heart murmur, she decided to pursue independence without the canine assistance. As her parents tell it, she never “looked” back.
Peyton’s biggest issue here in Jubilant would be the lack of a convenient way to get around the city. The bus wasn’t as popular a mode of transportation in a town this size, so she’d have to rely more on friends and family, or even taxi services or shuttles.
Reuben had added expenses in the family budget to cover the costs of whatever paid transportation Peyton settled on. He knew it wouldn’t take her long to begin exploring. She would go stir crazy if she were housebound.
Charles David rounded a corner and leapt through the doorway. He paused when he saw Reuben and watched in fascination as Reuben shoved the brown leather recliner toward the corner Peyton had designated. The movers had plopped almost everything in the center of the room, since the Burnses hadn’t decided on placement before they left. That meant Reuben had quite a bit of heavy lifting to do in this room and in the living room.
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