Her mind snapped to attention. That was blunt. Blindsiding. No question, she believed God cared for her, but God concerned about her future spouse? How had such a simple concept escaped entering her thoughts? Ever. She let her body go limp. Nick was right.
She raised her gaze. “But it still hurts.”
“I know.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Right. He knew her pain…to quote her overdue sister-in-law…like a male obstetrician knows how a pregnant woman feels a week past her due date.
****
Nick resumed rowing.
Cisney stared at the water, her lips pursed. Then she looked at him. “I’m going to turn around on my seat and enjoy God’s creation, and I request that you don’t ask me any more questions, or better yet, don’t say anything…just row.”
She swung her legs around and faced the bow.
He wouldn’t have given her the advice if it hadn’t been for today’s Scripture reading. As much as God’s words comforted him, they also had been a heads-up for ministering to Cisney…so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. But had he consoled her, or made her mad?
He forced his gaze from Cisney’s slumped posture and took in the ripples in the glassy water formed by the oars. Then he raised his gaze to the ducks flying in V-formation against the perfect blue sky. Maybe he’d get up early tomorrow and throw out a line for some crappie. Grandpa might want to join him. He could fit an hour in before time to pursue Option A. His heart blipped. The brunette in front of him wasn’t the only one on the rebound. Tomorrow would be the first time he’d see Dana since she broke it off with him. He’d require the Lord’s strength just as much as Cisney needed it.
A breeze ruffled his hair. He regarded Cisney. Her feminine frame was slight for her height. He’d been right yesterday. Her disheveled hair, her smeared makeup, and the bump in the middle of her forehead couldn’t render her unattractive, even if she added combat boots.
What was going on in that head of hers? Had he chiseled a hairline fracture in her resolve to leave? Mom would be disappointed if she left—not because Cisney would miss the festivities, but because she had gone home broken.
He looked at his watch. If they left the house in the next ten minutes, she could make her bus. Should he remind her or just start rowing for shore? Or should he let her miss her bus and hope her mood changed for the better? Her leaving was not a good thing for anyone. No doubt about that. But his place was not to play God, and what seemed the right thing to do was honor her wishes. He turned the boat around.
Cisney bowed her head. Was she praying?
Her hand holding her cell tunneled under her mass of hair to her ear. No, not praying, unless she had God on speed-dial.
“Hi. I want to cancel a bus ticket.”
****
Cisney plastered her back against the wall outside the mudroom door. “You have to run interference for me. I’ve got to clean up and change before anyone sees me.”
“Sure.” Nick opened the door and peered inside. He grabbed her hand.
He seemed to take her hand a lot. Didn’t he know a girl might construe he liked her? But not right now. What about her cavewoman look was there to like? Dragging her was more like a control thing. But as long as he got her to her room without anyone laying eyes on her, he could play Mr. Caveman.
With Nick in the lead, they crept down the hall and scuttled past the butler’s pantry and kitchen, where chopping knives and clinking pans emitted a cacophony. He released her hand and pointed to the stairs while he moved to check the front room.
“Coast is clear,” he whispered. He passed her on the stairs and took the lead again. Mid-staircase, he ducked down.
She dropped to a squat. Muted voices conversed and a door opened. Her heart pounded. What would be worse: seen by a family member in her disheveled state or caught hunkering down like Marines on a mission?
Nick pumped his hand behind him. What next? Would he give a military signal with two fingers to his eyes and then direct them toward the stair rail, motioning her to jump?
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Tony’s voice said above them, “I’ve always wanted to wear argyle socks.”
“Beggars can’t be choosey when they forget to pack socks, son.” Grandpa’s last words trailed off, and a door closed.
Then another door closed. Tony going into his room?
Nick waved her on. She scurried by him, getting a whiff of his titillating cologne, darted up the first few steps of the second flight, and then stopped and turned. She needed the Thanksgiving dress code.
Nick, standing at the bottom of the stairs, wore jeans and a plaid shirt under his light jacket. If that was his dress for the day, she’d dig out a more casual outfit than the two lying on her bed.
“How should I dress for Thanksgiving?” She whispered.
“Comfortable.”
That told her practically nothing. “Are you changing your clothes?”
“Yes. Comfortable slacks and a sports shirt.”
She turned to continue climbing.
“Cisney.”
She faced him.
“Just so you know, you’re the one who cut our conversation short on the lake. Otherwise, you could have carved another notch on your challenge belt.”
She cringed and her cheeks burned. Why had she blurted about the challenge during her hysteria? He’d invited her to his home, listened to her rant about Jason, and helped her see a new perspective—God’s perspective—on her life. He didn’t deserve her insult.
An apology on her lips, she glimpsed his smile. Was that smugness? So, that’s how it was.
She leaned toward him, holding onto the railing, and spoke in her most casual voice. “Just so you know, your sister and mother think we’re engaged. I overheard them in the kitchen, earlier.” She held up her left hand, flashing her pearl solitaire toward him, and fluttered her fingers. That should wipe the smirk off his face.
It did. His jaw dropped an inch.
5
Cisney’s attic-room door closed above. Nick stood motionless at the bottom of the stairs. His family thought he was engaged to Cisney? What made people think a pearl ring was an engagement ring? And why hadn’t Cisney switched the wretched thing back to her right hand?
He hooked his thumbs on his pockets. This was not good. It was one thing for Mom to like Cisney. He could deal with that. But now with an engagement planted in her mind, removing her notion he and Cisney were made for each other would be like raising the Titanic.
How could he save the family from disappointment, short of giving in and falling for Cisney? Considering the tension in their last exchange on the stairs, he wasn’t in a giving-in or falling-for mood, much less holding a civil attitude toward the woman.
She’d amused him when she’d quipped about torturing him to talk during the trip here, but referring to him as a notch on her challenge belt was brutal. Had defending himself against her affront goaded her into declaring war—flashing that blasted pearl ring of hers?
He shouldn’t have brought her home.
Lord, I want to call in troops for battle. Please douse my anger.
He stood a moment and let his irritation dissipate.
Cisney’s tearstained face while she wailed about Jason’s dirty actions plunked into his mind. Cisney was fragile and vulnerable right now. He shouldn’t have let her challenge-belt statement get under his skin. Circumstances called for him to remain the adult.
He let out a heavy sigh. No easy solution came to mind to rectify the engagement mess. He’d have to take Mom aside and set her straight. Watch her face crumple as he destroyed her hopes.
With his hands jammed in his jeans pockets, he walked to his room—his and Tony’s room for the holiday.
When he opened the door, Tony looked up while stuffing the tails of his corduroy shirt into his slacks. “Hey, Nick. Why so glum?”
That’s all he needed—the third degree. “Just thought
ful. Nice socks.”
Tony pinched the crease in his pant leg and drew up his slacks to expose his argyle socks. “You know me, I’ll try anything to keep in style, plus these were the only extra socks Grandpa had with him. No way was I asking Dad for a pair and taking his ribbing.”
“You know where my sock drawer is. Nothing has ever stopped you from taking what’s mine.”
“Your drawer was the first place I looked. Except for a couple of pairs of sweat socks, it’s empty.”
“That’s right. I cleaned out my drawers the last time I was home. Sorry.”
“No problem. I’d hate to have missed out on these jewels.” Tony flashed his argyles again. “So, you’re engaged, finally. I can’t wait to meet Cisney.”
Nick raised his face toward the ceiling and forced air through his lips. How long would it take him to gather his gear to camp on the pontoon at the other end of the lake for the next two and a half days? “I’m not engaged to Cisney. She’s a co-worker who had no place to go for Thanksgiving.”
Tony perked up. “Really?” He stretched out the word. “Because you dragged her away earlier, I couldn’t get a good look at her. Is she plain or ugly, or just plain ugly?”
“She’s attractive.” The kind of attractive that could reel a man in before he got to know the whole package, if he wasn’t careful.
“Is she dull?”
Nick unbuttoned his shirt. “Never a dull moment around Cisney.” She’d provided an action-packed Thanksgiving morning he’d not forget.
“Does she laugh like a hyena?”
“Her laugh’s nice enough.” Wait ‘til Tony heard the girlish giggle at the end of Cisney’s laughter. His cousin would spout off one of his crazy stories to keep her laughing just to hear that giggle.
Tony followed him into the bathroom. “Does she curse like a sailor?”
Nick turned on the shower. “Depends. Do you consider ‘gracious me’ curse words?”
“Then she’s got to be dumb.”
“Nope.” He curbed a smile, picturing his meetings with her staff. She was always jumping in and translating his mathematical jargon into her team’s lingo.
“OK, then, she must have a boyfriend.”
“I think she’s unattached at the moment.”
“Well, man, why aren’t you engaged to her?”
Nick laughed. “Until this trip, I’ve never socialized with her outside the office.” Imagine him engaged to the sticky-note queen.
Tony leaned against the doorjamb. “So you’re not interested in her, and she’s fair game?”
He should have cut Tony off when he asked about Cisney’s looks. She didn’t need Tony coming on to her. “She’s got a lot going on. I think she agreed to come here to relax and get away from it all.” He pointed to the bathroom door. “Do you mind?”
Tony sauntered out, a huge grin on his face.
Lord, protect Cisney from Tony.
****
After ducking under the sloped ceiling, Cisney sashayed from the bedroom and entered the bathroom. Hot showers were a godsend. Hers had saved her from a morning gone bad—washed away its ugliness. Now it was time to be the gracious guest. Make up for loading her problems on Nick and retaliating against his smugness. Like always, she’d reacted too fast, but she was back on track. She would be the new, serene Cisney.
Dressed in a coral-colored silk blouse and beige wool slacks that covered her low-heeled ankle boots, she buttoned on a cream-colored knit vest that cinched at her waist. She checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror. Her bangs and extra makeup hid the goose egg on her forehead. And compared to her post-hysteria condition, she looked composed.
Back in the bedroom, she picked up the nightstand’s Bible from where she’d tossed it on the bed in her panicked state. She’d held this Bible in her hand during the Jason upheaval, yet she’d cast God’s words aside and turned to her cellphone and Nick.
But Nick had directed her to God. A stab of pain radiated through her chest. Talk about smugness. She’d flippantly answered Nick’s questions about God’s nature. Of course, she’d been distracted by Jason’s betrayal. Nice excuse. Would she have been less dismissive if she hadn’t been upset?
She sat on the bed and lowered the leather bound book to her lap. Bringing her Bible with her this weekend hadn’t crossed her mind, but Nick had packed his. What kind of new Sunday school teacher was she, anyway? At best, she sporadically read the Bible. And then to toss away God’s lifeline in a time of crisis. But she’d never thought of the Bible that way. As a resource when trouble happened. Not until Nick had called her attention to what God thought about her situation.
She rifled through the Bible’s thin pages. From now on, she’d be an example for her trusting four-year-olds. She’d download a Bible app to her phone so the next time she ran distressed to her phone, it would be to search God’s Word. Like Nick, she’d be ready to help someone in need.
Her gaze fell to familiar words. God never tired of reminding His people as He did in Isaiah: I am the Lord your God. She read down a few verses. You are my people. She belonged to God. How simple, yet profound. Peace swept over her. Her Father in heaven knew what she needed in the wake of Jason’s latest blow.
Daddy’s face formed in her mind. Disappointment roosted in his gaze and in the set of his lips. That put a damper on her resolutions. After her revelation on the lake, her heavenly and earthly fathers seemed at odds with each other about Jason.
Didn’t Daddy have her best interests in his expectations for her life—out of a father’s love for his daughter? He was smart and robust and successful in all he did. Everyone liked Daddy, or at least respected him. Wasn’t it good that such a man got his way? Actually, Daddy didn’t always prevail. Didn’t he back down when Mom stood firm that her children would go to church?
Why was she judging Daddy? She hadn’t told him about Jason, yet. Her premature call on his reaction to her losing Jason was unfair. It was possible God and Daddy were in agreement.
A faint scent of the yellow roses on the bedside table drifted her way. She smiled. She should get downstairs and join the family. She closed the Bible and stowed it in the drawer where she’d found it.
As she shut the guestroom door, her pearl solitaire caught her attention. Should she return the gossip-churning ring to her right hand? If she did, would Ellie and Nancy think she was playing mind games with them?
She could remove her ring. But then Ellie might worry that she and Nick had fought and called off their engagement. Maybe offer the truth. Why not? She hadn’t purposely listened in on Ellie and Nancy’s conversation in the kitchen. For now, she’d leave the solitaire on her left hand and confess the truth when the moment seemed right.
****
Cisney followed the turkey aroma and passed through the butler’s pantry to the kitchen. The enormity of the room stopped her mid-stride. Cherry cabinets, including the one concealing the refrigerator, masses of granite countertops, and at least three ovens and two sinks added up to posh.
Daddy, considered well off, lived in nothing like this house. Although Nick’s family lived in luxury, they came across far from snooty rich. Down to earth, gracious, and kind came to mind. They called their expensive piano The Old Girl, for Pete’s sake.
While Nancy emptied canned pumpkin into a mixing bowl, Ellie and Sandy worked on a salad. Grandma Thelma formed a lattice of dough strips over apple filling made from fresh apples, evidenced by the peel coils piled on a cutting board. She counted them. Four pumpkin and two apple. Six pies?
Observing this family was a smile booster. Cisney’s smile seeped onto her face like melted butter sought every cranny of a waffle. It felt good. “Good morning.” She glanced around for a kitchen clock. “At least I think it’s still morning.”
The women looked up from their work, smiled, and returned her greeting.
They looked so happy. Thanksgiving Day probably wasn’t the time to dash their beliefs about Nick’s engagement. Was his family the type
who took turns sharing what they were thankful for at the dining room table? She could see it now. Ellie beaming and offering her thanks for her only son’s upcoming nuptials.
Nick would probably dream up images of taking a hacksaw to his coworker’s left ring finger. Ew.
She drew her hands behind her back and tugged on the ring. It wouldn’t budge. It never was this tight. Had the hot shower made her fingers swell? Too late to excuse herself and race up two flights to try the soap treatment.
Ellie tore romaine lettuce into a large mahogany salad bowl. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. The room is charming. And thank you for the yellow roses.”
“That was Nancy’s doing.” Ellie smiled at her daughter.
Cisney nodded to Nancy. “Thanks for making me feel so welcomed. The view of the lake from my room is spectacular.”
“Lake Norman is more than fifty square miles,” Nancy said. “It’s the largest man-made body of fresh water within North Carolina. Our little town here, Cornelius, is one of several lying on the outskirts of the lake.”
Cisney smiled at the teacher demonstrating her zeal to educate. “When Nick took me out in the row boat earlier, I thought we’d entered the Atlantic by mistake.”
The women chuckled.
Nancy swept tendrils of brown hair that had escaped from her ponytail from her face with the back of her hand. “Your belief was well-founded. Lake Norman is called the inland sea of North Carolina.”
Cisney looked around the kitchen. A job for her had to lie in all the fresh vegetables and fruit covering the counters. Who was going to eat all that? She turned to Ellie. The woman regarded her with a pained expression. Had Ellie found out Nick and she weren’t engaged?
Maybe this was the moment to tell them the truth. “Ellie, is something wrong?”
Ellie rushed to her and lifted Cisney’s bangs from her forehead. “I knew we shouldn’t have put you in that low-ceilinged room.”
Calculated Risk Page 6