“Yeah, that’s what I said. I’m so glad you didn’t drop their name yesterday. That would’ve ruined this. Can you come?”
“Uh, sure, I think so. What time?”
“Beth said around 1:00.”
“Oh . . . okay. That works.” Bryn suppressed a giggle. Like she wouldn’t have cleared her “busy schedule” completely for a chance to have lunch at the Hartfords’ home.
“How about if I pick you up?”
She considered this.
“Or if you want to meet me there, I can give you directions. It’s a little out of town, kinda in the country. When you get there you’ll have to wait at the gates and call for security and—”
“That’s okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll just ride with you.”
“I’ll pick you up about 12:45 then.”
She wanted to ask what she should wear, but that just sounded so lame and juvenile. After all, Bryn considered herself something of a fashion expert. She ought to be able to figure this one out for herself. Instead, she politely thanked him and hung up. She had exactly two hours to do her hair and makeup and pick out the perfect outfit.
“What are you getting all dolled up for?” Bryn’s mom asked as Bryn walked through the kitchen wearing hot rollers and a facial mask.
“You’ll never believe it,” Bryn told her as she got a glass of water.
“Try me.”
So Bryn explained about the charity event and how the Hartfords might contribute the prizes. “For some reason they want us to come to their home today. I guess they want to hear more about this project.”
“That’s just wonderful, Bryn.” Mom smiled. “I’m so impressed.”
“I wanted to look really good.” Bryn frowned down at her pajama pants and T-shirt. “But I’m having a hard time deciding what to wear. I definitely don’t think jeans are appropriate—although their house is in the country.”
Mom got a thoughtful look. “Something classic would probably be a safe choice.” She glanced out the window. “It’s getting cold out there. Maybe it calls for some cashmere? Perhaps a scarf?”
Bryn beamed at her. “Yeah, I was thinking along those same lines. Maybe my new Lucky boots and a matching belt. Kind of country cool.”
Mom laughed. “You better tell me about everything when you get home. I’d suggest you take photos of their home, but I’m afraid that’d be rude. Just take mental notes.”
“I’d love to take photos, but you’re right. I won’t even ask. Bad manners.”
“Good girl.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“He has a meeting in town.” Mom patted Bryn on the back. “I’m sure he’ll be very impressed to hear who you’ve been lunching with.”
Bryn remembered what Jason had said. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? For some reason the Hartfords seem like they want to keep their donations under wraps. I’m so glad I didn’t mention their names yesterday. Although I did tell Abby. I better call her and make sure she hasn’t blabbed about it to anyone.”
“I wouldn’t be concerned.” Mom filled her coffee cup. “Abby’s never been much of a blabbermouth.”
“Even so.” Bryn hurried to her room for her phone and quickly called Abby, explaining what was happening today and the need to keep it secret.
“Don’t worry,” Abby told her. “The only person I told was my dad. And it was only to get him off my case for quitting basketball.”
“He’s pretty mad about that?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Sorry, Abs. I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
“Maybe by the time I head off for college.”
“Isn’t he impressed with the charity event that you’re helping with? You’re the chairman of the committee, Abs. That should wow him.”
“You’d think. He was good with that, but he thought I should be able to do both. I mean, I should do it all, right? He lectured me about all the committees and sports and jobs he’d juggled while going to high school. And how he had to walk ten miles in blizzards . . . and weave his own clothes . . . and hunt his own food. Back in the Dark Ages.”
Bryn laughed.
“So you’re going to the Hartfords’ house?” Abby asked with a tinge of longing in her voice.
“Yeah.” Bryn suddenly felt guilty. Should she invite Abby? “I was pretty surprised by it myself, but Jason sounds all laid-back and—”
“Jason is going too?” Abby sounded shocked.
“Yeah. The Hartfords are friends with his family. Jason is our connection to them.”
“Oh . . . I wonder why they want it kept hush-hush,” Abby mused.
“Probably just a rich-person thing.” Bryn started wiping off her facial mask with tissues. “They might not want everyone hitting them up for fund-raisers. From what Jason said, it sounds like they’ve been supportive of Northwood. Their kids went there about ten years ago.”
“Well, I’ll be curious to hear what they’re like. Call me when you get back, okay?”
“Absolutely.” Bryn dropped a gooey tissue in the wastebasket. “Sorry I couldn’t invite you to come too, Abs, but you understand . . .”
“Sure.”
Bryn continued doing her hair and makeup and carefully dressed, checking her image over and over to be sure everything was perfect. She’d never had lunch with mega-millionaires before. For all she knew they might be billionaires.
“You look very nice,” Mom said as Bryn came out to show her the outfit she’d decided on. “That blue sweater brings out your eyes, and the scarf looped like that is quite stylish.”
“What about the skinny khakis tucked into the boots?” Bryn asked. “Too equestrian?”
“Perfect. You look like a stylish girl off to the country for a nice lunch.” Mom grabbed her iPhone. “Let me get a pic of you to show Dad.” She’d just taken it when the doorbell rang.
“That’s Jason Levine. He’s going too.”
“Have fun, sweetie.”
Bryn grabbed her suede jacket and hurried to get the door.
“Don’t you look swanky,” he said with a pleased smile.
“Swanky?”
“Okay. Chic. Is that better?”
“A little.” As she closed the front door, she noticed the car pulled into the driveway. A small black BMW that looked fairly new. “Is that yours?”
“My mom’s. She insisted.”
“Nice ride.” Bryn kept her expression even, but she could feel herself getting swept away as she slid into the smooth leather seat. As much as she tried to pretend she was not a “material girl,” these little luxuries did tend to turn her head.
“I was planning on driving my Jeep,” he said as he started the engine, “but my mom noticed how dirty it was. She couldn’t stand to have me park it in front of the Hartfords’.” He laughed. “I reminded her that the Hartfords have horses and cows, but she still put her foot down.”
“Good for her,” Bryn said. “I like your mom’s car.” She was aware that Jason was from a fairly well-off family, but now she was wondering, just how rich were they? And to be such good friends with people like the Hartfords? Was it possible that she’d underestimated this boy? Sure, there was that mess with Devon that night. But what if Devon had been partially to blame? And, really, would that surprise her? Devon hadn’t proved herself to be the most trustworthy or reliable girl, had she?
“You’re being so quiet,” he said as he turned onto the highway.
“Sorry . . . just thinking.”
“Worrying that I might drag you off into the woods and try to have my way with you?”
She jerked her head around to stare at him.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Just yanking your chain. I mean, after what you said about Devon and all that. I figure you still assume that I’m a—what did you call me—a cad?”
She smiled. “As a matter of fact . . .”
“Hopefully, you’ll get to know me for yourself . . . for who I really am.”
She studied him. With
his chocolate-brown sweater over a pale blue oxford shirt, combined with tan cords and loafers, he not only looked casually stylish and handsome, he looked perfectly harmless too. Still, she knew that looks could be deceiving.
“So tell me about the Hartfords. How do your parents know them?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Jack and my uncle Dan started the company back in the mid-nineties. My dad joined the team after college. He’s a few years younger than Jack.”
“Oh.” So Jason’s family was part of the company. That meant they probably were very wealthy. Not that it mattered. Or did it? After a nice drive down a country road, Jason turned onto a road that had tall metal gates. He punched something into the keypad and—voila—the gates swung open.
“Beth loves horses,” Jason told her as he slowly drove down the gravel road. “She’s got about a dozen I think. Mostly Arabians, but I heard she’s getting interested in Friesians—whatever those are.”
“Friesians? They just happen to be one of the most beautiful breeds. Big, shiny black draft horses. They’re gorgeous.”
“Sounds like you know a little about horses.” He was pulling up to an enormous house. It resembled a castle in that it was made of stones, but it was long and low and more modern looking, with lots of big windows.
“Pretty house,” she said as he turned off the engine.
“Pretty big,” he said as they got out of the car. “It’s about twelve thousand square feet.”
“Wow.” She took in a deep breath, steadying herself for whatever was ahead. It felt like she was about to visit royalty. Perhaps she should’ve practiced her curtsy.
“Welcome,” called out a short redheaded woman as she opened the double doors. “Watch out for the dogs.” Just then a pair of golden retrievers burst out the door, racing up to Jason and Bryn. “Stay down!” the woman yelled as she hurried over. “Down, Riley. Down, Roxie.”
“Hey, Beth,” Jason hugged the woman. “I want you to meet Bryn.”
Beth stuck out her hand, and Bryn tried not to look disappointed as she shook it. So much for visiting royalty. This ordinary woman in her faded blue jeans, frumpy gray sweatshirt, and scuffed up boots wasn’t even as fashionable as Bryn’s mom . . . or even her grandmother. “I’m pleased to meet you,” Bryn said with a big smile.
“Excuse my appearance,” Beth said. “I was working with a new horse and sort of lost track of the time.”
“A Friesian?” Bryn asked.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Jason mentioned it. I think they’re one of the most beautiful breeds.”
Beth’s eyebrows arched. “So you’re a horsewoman?”
Bryn gave her an embarrassed smile. “I was pretty horse crazy as a girl. I took riding lessons for a few years and dreamed of having a horse, but I’ve never owned one.”
“Then I’ll have to give you a tour of the stables. That is, if you’re interested.”
“Absolutely.” Suddenly Bryn began to see this woman in a new light.
“Jack’s inside,” Beth told them, “and I know he’s hungry. Plus he’s only got about an hour to spend with us because there’s a brokers’ meeting at three.”
She led them into the huge and amazing house. It wasn’t that it was so fancy or elaborate. The furnishings actually looked comfortable and casual, but the vaulted wood ceilings, the enormous fireplace that opened into two rooms, and all the gleaming wood floors—well, it was pretty stunning. “You have a beautiful home,” Bryn told Beth as they were led to a large, sunny room with several comfortable looking chairs. A dining table was beautifully set with colorful place mats, pottery, and flowers.
“Thank you,” Beth said. “I never dreamed I’d have a house this big. Thankfully, I don’t have to clean it. You kids make yourselves comfy. I’ll send Rita in with some drinks while I round up Jack and do a quick change out of my horse clothes.”
“I love this house,” Bryn whispered to Jason as they sat down in the chairs by the window.
“It’s pretty cool.”
“And Beth seems nice.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Not at all what I expected.”
“What did you—”
“Hello there,” called out an athletic-looking gray-haired man. “Beth told me you kids were here. Welcome.”
Jason introduced Jack to Bryn, and she gave him her brightest smile. “Thank you. Your home is beautiful. Everything about it. Feels like a lot of good energy went into it.”
He grinned. “That’s true. We wanted it to feel more like a home than a showplace. Had to fire several designers until we found someone who could understand that.” He waved to the table as a woman came in with a couple pitchers of beverages. “Let’s sit down and chat.”
Before long, Beth was back. Dressed in a loose cream-colored shirt and black pants, she looked stylish and comfortable. As she sat down at the opposite end from her husband, Bryn realized that she was actually quite pretty and not so frumpy after all.
Before they ate, Jack bowed his head and asked a short blessing on the food. Bryn wasn’t sure why this surprised her, but for some reason it did. Maybe it was because her family—though churchgoing—rarely prayed before a meal. But she liked it. And she liked Jack and Beth. As she and Jason presented their plan for helping local children in need, via the Christmas ball, she could see that the Hartfords were engaged and interested, and they seemed like truly good people. She could tell that they were buying wholeheartedly into this plan. By the time dessert was being served, Bryn felt completely comfortable with these people. She could even imagine living comfortably in their world.
10
I don’t see why Dad’s being so stubborn,” Abby said to her mom on Monday morning as she gathered her things for school. “Why can’t he just let it go?”
“He just loves you, Abby. Wants the best for you.”
“You mean what he thinks is best.” She zipped her bag shut. “I wish he’d just let me grow up and run my own life.”
“Well, eventually he’ll have to, won’t he?” Mom kissed Abby on the cheek. “In the meantime, try to be patient.”
“What happens when my patience wears out?”
“Then you’ll have to ask God for more.”
Abby looked out the window to see Bryn’s car. “Gotta go.” She grabbed her jacket and sprinted for the door. She wanted to get out of here before Dad returned from his morning run. She continued running out to the car, hurrying to hop in.
“What’s the big rush?” Bryn asked.
“Trying to escape the wrath of Dad,” Abby explained as she buckled up. “We had a little blowup before he went running. I don’t really want to pick it up where we left off.”
“Got ya.” Bryn nodded as the car pulled out. “Want me to take a special route to avoid him?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“You never called me back on Saturday,” Bryn said as she drove. “I wanted to tell you about my visit to the Hartfords’.”
“Didn’t you get my text saying my parents suddenly decided we should spend the weekend at the mountain cabin?”
“Yeah. But I just wanted to talk to you.” Bryn proceeded to describe in detail how fabulous the Hartford estate was. She even described the horses.
“Sounds lovely,” Abby said without real interest.
“Remember, you can’t tell anyone about them. Their gift must remain anonymous. It’s the way they do things.”
“That’s nice.” Abby knew her voice sounded flat, but she didn’t really care.
“What’s wrong, Abs?”
“Nothing.” Abby folded her arms across her front, slumping into the seat with a long, loud sigh.
“Yeah, right.” As Bryn stopped for a red light, she turned to peer at Abby. “Come on, something is bugging you. What’s up?”
“My dad is driving me nuts. First of all, he just won’t let it go that I quit basketball. In fact, I know that
’s why they kidnapped me to the cabin. They thought they could brainwash me up there.”
“Did it work?”
“To be honest, it did give me some second thoughts.”
“You really want to go back to basketball? Forget about the Christmas project?”
“Jason is managing to do both,” Abby pointed out. This was a little fact that she hoped Dad never discovered. “I probably can too.”
“Jason is an expert at delegating. He likes being up in front, getting others to do the hard work. That in turn leaves him more time to play ball.”
“Maybe that’s what I should do.” But even as she said this, she knew it wouldn’t work.
“But we need you to do the hard work too,” Bryn argued. “You’ve got great organizational skills. The Santa Sleigh project is going to need them.” Bryn started to explain how generous the Hartfords were planning to be. “They’re giving us Rose Bowl tickets and red carpet Oscars tickets. Two of each. They also promised to help in some other ways too. Beth knows the owners of Ice Capers. She thinks we can have a skating party there for the kids, and at the end of it, we’ll have a Santa show up and present them with their sleighs. Can you imagine how cool that would be—to have all the sleighs on ice?”
Abby brightened. “That would be fun for the kids.”
“Beth helped us come up with some really great ideas, ways to help the kids with a lot of things. I’ve got a bunch of notes.”
“The big challenge will be to get everyone at school on board,” Abby said. “I was wondering if they’d let us have a short assembly—just to get everyone excited, you know?”
“Fantastic idea, Abby. See, this is just one more reason why you need to stick to your guns and scrap basketball and stay with our project.”
“So I’m thinking . . .” Abby closed her eyes. “How about if we make a couple of cardboard-box sleighs. You know, like we talked about. We’d go all out to decorate them—maybe even use lights. Then we could have a couple of girls—ones that are pint-sized—dress up like a pair of goofy-looking elves and pull the sleighs out on the stage. And you could tell everyone about the contest and how it will benefit kids.”
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