by Anita Higman
She eased herself down on a kitchen chair. How could she have done it? Forced Trudie into a blind date with Mason? And on her birthday? Her sister had gone along with it out of politeness, but in the midst of her matchmaking, Lane realized what she’d really done. She driven away, given away the very man she loved. Mason.
How could love have happened so unexpectedly? Without warning? Lane had known the truth in her heart for several days, and yet it still surprised her to think of it. “What should I do? They’ll be here any minute.” Mason would drop Trudie off on her doorstep after their date. Her fingers trembled as they lighted underneath her chin. Lane thought she’d found a way to handle the whirling emotions, but all her pep talks had failed.
Her stomach cramped again, and she doubled over. When the pain let up a little, she reached for a ginger ale in the fridge, opened the bottle, and took a few tentative sips. It soothed her stomach a little and took the bitter taste from her mouth.
Lane let her mind filter back through the various scenes with Mason, the ones she’d tried to keep at bay for months. The feelings had come on so gradually, it had been easy to dismiss them, but when the full force of those emotions had arrived, there was no discarding them. Looking back, she could pinpoint the moment when her heart had been taken—the day of Trudie’s birthday lunch—when Mason had given her sister the balloons and the stuffed animal.
Lane folded her arms across the kitchen table. No man had ever done anything so charming for her. A few men had sent flowers over the years, but their gifts had always come off obligatory. Maybe even sterile of any real feeling. A bouquet of balloons with an adorable koala attached meant a man wasn’t afraid to be intimate, wasn’t worried about coming off whimsical and open. In that moment when the delivery was made, so much had been felt—so much had finally been acknowledged. Mason had revealed his spirit, and it was one she admired. And loved.
She took a few more sips of the soda, letting the sweet effervescence soothe her stomach, but another spasm hit her again the moment she thought of how she’d brushed Mason aside after only three dates. How could she have been so foolish? What did it really matter if they were dating at the same time they were doing business together? People did it all the time. Her reasoning had been as weak as skim milk. But what of it now? When it came to love and Mason, she no longer cared about decorum. She loved the man. If any conflict of interest arose, she could always fire him and then marry him!
Lane rested her head on the table. Maybe she was making herself sick with worry for nothing. What were the chances of Trudie and Mason falling in love on a first date? Virtually impossible. Although she’d fallen in love on a first date when she was in high school. Hayden Montgomery. It could happen. It did happen. But Hayden was long gone and married by now. Probably had two or three gorgeous kids, all growing up and happy.
She lifted her head, feeling a little better. Lane thought she saw a car light in the driveway. Ten thirty. It was them. Why had she promised her sister another session on Saturday morning after breakfast? And on top of that, it had to be the worst possible night for a slumber party.
A surge of panic swept through Lane. She would be forced to see them together, and then later she’d feel obligated to ask Trudie about every little detail of the evening. What would be the right thing to do? Tell her sister about her feelings for Mason? Or remain silent while Trudie dated him? In the meantime, she would be hoping and praying it would all come to nothing. O God, what should I do? Speak out or leave my feelings unvoiced?
Lane heard a car door slam, and her heart constricted.
Chapter Twelve
Lane ran into the bathroom to check her makeup. She certainly didn’t want them to think she’d been crying. After dusting on a bit more blush and smoothing the wrinkles in her pants outfit, she felt she looked passable under the circumstances. Why hadn’t they rung the doorbell? Lane made her way to the front door and looked through the peephole. Mason was kissing Trudie. And not just a good-night peck on the cheek. He was kissing with earnestness, and her sister was returning the kiss with equal dedication!
Before she could think through her actions, Lane flipped on the porch light. The area was suddenly illuminated with enough light to land an aircraft. Well, that wasn’t very polite of me. Her shoulders sagged like a wilted flower.
Chuckles could be heard coming from the other side and then a soft knock. Lane sighed and opened the door. “Hello.”
Mason smiled. “Hi, Lane.”
Trudie picked up her overnight case and stepped inside the house. “Thanks, Mason. Take care.”
He gave them both a little wave, glanced Trudie’s way one more time with an expectant look, and then walked toward his car.
Lane winced, looking at his vehicle. She never could understand why such a wealthy man would drive such a wreck of a car. Not his style at all. If she were married to Mason, the first thing she’d do would be to sell that vehicle and get him something that would fit his dashing persona—a Beamer or a sporty Lexus.
“Hi.” Trudie gave Lane a hug and then sort of floated into the living room. “You were right about everything, Lane. Mason is as wonderful as you said. Much more so, really.”
“Yes.” Lane was glad her sister wasn’t angry for interrupting their kiss, but she felt a twinge of wooziness coming on again. The sight of Trudie so obviously swept away by Mason’s charms was almost more than she could bear. “So, do you think you two will continue to go out?” It felt like a foolish question, since from the looks of their kiss, there seemed to be a mutual and genuine attraction between them.
Trudie appeared to be staring at nothing but the air. “He said he would call sometime tomorrow evening.” She drifted to the couch and sat down.
“Oh?” Lane tried to add a lilt to her voice. She sat down on the love seat opposite her sister. The session she’d given Trudie on dress and hair had really paid off. She looked wonderful. Maybe a little too wonderful. Their date had obviously gone very well. Lane made the decision then not to tell her sister about her feelings. She wouldn’t lie, but there was no need to bring up the subject.
Her sister looked into her eyes for the first time. Lane gave Trudie a warm smile, one she was certain would put Trudie at ease. She would take the high road, if indeed that was the high road. She had no idea. Maybe she would let the dates between Mason and Trudie play themselves out. Perhaps they would tire of each other.
Within seconds Trudie seemed to come out of a trance. “What’s the matter?” She scooted to the edge of the couch. “Lane, have you been crying?”
“Crying?” Lane brightened her smile.
“There’s something wrong.” Trudie got up and eased down next to her on the love seat.
I won’t tell Trudie the truth. I can’t. But Lane knew she wouldn’t really be able to pull off a lie. And besides, she knew God was listening. He was right there in their midst, and she didn’t want to disappoint Him. Would the truth break her sister’s heart? Then again, Trudie had never even said she would go out with Mason again. She’d only said he was going to call her. But considering the look of utter bliss she’d seen on her sister’s face, it was a given how she felt. “It’s not important tonight. Why don’t you tell me about your evening?”
“I will…as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”
Lane sat there silent, wishing she’d put on more makeup. Or perhaps she could have masked her feelings better. How had life gotten so messy? She’d always been able to label life’s emotional clutter and either tidy it up or file it away, but this ordeal didn’t feel like anything that could be labeled or filed or fixed.
Trudie touched her arm. “You can tell me anything. Remember, we’re sisters. Haven’t you always told me that sisters share everything?”
Lane swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. Yes, but how can we share our love for the same man? It will tear us apart as easily as fabric.
“Is it about Mason?”
She looked at Trudie then. Could she have alr
eady guessed? “I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you. I always will.”
“What is it? Please.”
Trudie’s joy had been turned into such sadness Lane wanted to wipe it away, but she knew her words would only bring them both an even greater sorrow. “I’ll say it straight out, since that may be the best way.” Lane squeezed Trudie’s hand. “I’m in love with Mason.”
Chapter Thirteen
The second the words came out of Lane’s mouth, she regretted them. Why, God? Why couldn’t I have lied…just this once?
“Oh, I see.” Trudie eased away from Lane and rested back on the love seat, her arms hugging her middle. “How long have you known?”
“I don’t even fully understand my own emotions. I never intended for this to happen. But as I think more about it, I guess these feelings must have been coming on for a while, and I just didn’t want to accept them. I told myself that I just had a very high regard for him. And too, I kept thinking I shouldn’t date a man who was busy telling me what stocks to buy or how to plan my retirement. But really what did that matter? I should have acknowledged all that I felt.”
“You love him,” Trudie said softly as if she were still trying to absorb the news.
Lane wished more than anything that the words could be taken back. Not knowing what else to do with the strange quiet, she said, “Why don’t I go in the kitchen and get us something cold to drink.”
“Okay.” Trudie rested her head against the back of the couch.
Lane went into the kitchen, but her sister didn’t join her. She moved around from one spot to another, straightening things on the counter and putting things away, but feeling no more than a methodic numbness. What could be done now? There was no turning back on the truth—that door could never be closed again—and yet she longed to make things right.
Trudie appeared in the doorway.
Lane stopped and turned to face her sister.
“When we three had lunch together, I could see something in your eyes then, but I told myself it was only in my imagination.” Trudie’s fingers laced over her abdomen as if she were trying not to breathe. “You should have told me. Before Mason even asked me out. I could have told him no when he called. Why didn’t you speak up that day?” Her sister’s words carried no anger, only desperation.
“You’re right. I should have told you right away.” Lane lowered her gaze. “It was just so difficult, especially since I’d worked so hard at getting you two together. It would have come off capricious and unkind.”
“I see.” Trudie slowly nodded.
Lane knew what her sister had to be thinking—her belated confession could be described in terms far worse than capricious and unkind. “This isn’t the conversation we were supposed to be having.” She shook her head. “I want you to know that when I set up our sleepover I was still denying what I felt. I was still trying to figure things out, and I was hoping I was wrong. I really did want to be wrong.”
Lane let out a long breath of air. “Oh, dear Trudie, this should have been your night. You should have told me what a wonderful evening you’d had with Mason. I was going to tell you how beautiful you looked. Which you do. We were going to stay up late and watch movies like when we were teenagers. Eat cookie dough, tell stories, and laugh a lot. And tomorrow I was going to give you a free session on makeup and poise.” How ridiculous that sounds now.
“We still can do all of that if you’d like.” Trudie’s voice sounded encouraging but without its usual spirit.
“No, we shouldn’t now. I won’t make you do that. I think we’re both too weary.” Lane felt tears coming, so she turned toward the sink to avoid her sister’s eyes. A moment later she could feel Trudie’s arms wrapping around her and her chin resting on her shoulder as they used to do to each other when they were girls.
“Somehow in God’s mercy, this will work out,” Trudie whispered.
“Yes. Surely. Somehow.”
Trudie released her, and they both puttered around in the kitchen, getting their favorite sodas on ice. But in spite of their casual appearance, a profound uneasiness still hung in the air.
When they’d gotten all settled, Trudie fidgeted with her glass of root beer. “I suppose we need to talk about the practicality of how this will work. Mason might get confused a little. And hurt.”
“How will he be hurt? You will continue to date him. I can’t ask you to stop. I won’t. But I did need to be honest. To acknowledge how I felt.” Lane took a reassuring sip of her ginger ale.
Trudie’s mouth came open. “Surely you don’t mean it. I can’t date Mason as if nothing has been said. I could never go out with him knowing that you love him. I wouldn’t enjoy his company. I would only be thinking of your suffering.”
Lane sighed. “This is none of my business, but do you… ?”
“Yes?”
“Well, will my confession tonight merely put an end to some pleasant dates between you two? Or am I in the way of what could have turned into love?” Lane realized she was asking an impossible question, but she was anxious to know her sister’s intentions. How she really felt about the evening and the future.
Trudie took a slow sip of her beverage. “It was a memorable evening. I’ve never met anyone like Mason. And as foolish as it seems, he took an interest in me.” Her shoulders drooped a little. “And I think if we had continued dating, yes, there’s a chance I would have fallen in love with him. But then Mason would be very easy to love.”
“Yes. I see.” Lane’s concern about Trudie’s burgeoning feelings had been real after all. She hadn’t blown anything out of proportion. They were in the mire, and her familiar velvet rope of happy-speak and positive thinking wasn’t going to pull them out. Only God could help them now.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Lane placed her hands in her lap, trying to remain calm.
“When I refuse Mason, what will happen then? Will you wait for him to ask you out? Or will you go to him right away to tell him how you feel?” Trudie’s expression was neither angry nor full of anguish, but her chin lifted in what looked like resolve.
“I hadn’t really made plans. I hadn’t gotten that far.” Lane released a mirthless chuckle. “I thought there was a chance you’d come back this evening uninterested in Mason. At least that’s what I’d hoped for. I know that sounds awful. I’m just trying to be honest. But this…I didn’t expect you to react this way to my announcement…that you wouldn’t go out with him again.” She gripped the edges of the chair. “And, well, when you walked in the door, I’d decided not to even tell you about my feelings.” Lane hoped her ramblings weren’t coming off disjointed or peevish.
Trudie smiled. “But you couldn’t hide love. It’s a feeling of epic proportion. It would only have been a matter of time before I figured it out.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Lane placed her hands around her glass, embracing the coolness of it. “But I still can’t get over it…that you’ll decline another offer to go out with him because of me.”
“There’s no other choice.”
Perhaps Lane didn’t know her sister as well as she thought she did. “Trudie, are you absolutely sure about this?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well…Mason and I have a meeting scheduled for next week. I could tell him I’ve changed my mind. That I would like to go out with him after all.” In spite of her steady demeanor, the faintest tremor of panic trickled through Lane. Am I doing the right thing?
“Okay.” Trudie stared into her glass of root beer. “When Mason calls me tomorrow, I will tell him no, but I won’t give him an explanation. It will be easier that way, and there’ll be no lies.” She moved the glass away. “Mason will eventually stop asking me out, and then he’ll turn his attentions back to you. Where they should have been all along.”
Chapter Fourteen
Trudie woke up in the night, trembling and feverish. The pillow felt damp from a serious case of the ni
ght sweats. She’d dreamt she was falling into a boiling vat of liquid black. Awake, though, she felt miserable—like she was still cloaked in the colors of the night, and daylight would never come.
She fluffed her pillow and pulled her nightgown down, which had migrated up to her neck and was nearly strangling her. How did she think she deserved the attentions of someone like Mason anyway? He was a shining star while she was a meteorite, dull and inert. Trudie almost laughed, but it was wretchedly unfunny.
Humans are so flimsy, God. People were like willows branches, moved by any random breeze of feeling. But if her emotions were so sinuous, why did she feel her heart might snap in two? She’d had only one date with Mason. How could it be that she already cared for him? Trudie closed her eyes to shut out the world. And what would she say when he called? After her initial “no” Mason would certainly wonder why. When she refused to answer him, he might go off thinking he was being rejected because of his new career choice. The idea of hurting him as other women had before her was heartbreaking.
Trudie had always believed that God would work all things for good for those who loved Him. That verse was easy enough to live by in good times, but in rough times, did she really own all those words? Did she truly love God? Hard to tell for sure. Love on earth could be measured more easily by how much the heart ached when someone beloved was taken away. But to love the One who knit every gossamer tissue together and gave every breath, it was hard to know how that devotion should feel. She continued to ponder celestial themes, since they were intertwined with the earthly ones.
Some hours later, Trudie awakened again and looked at the bedside clock. 7:05. The memories of the previous evening swept through her mind, making her spirit groan with sadness.