Dream Chasers

by Becky Melby

  “How. . .significant.”

  “Just laugh and get it over with.”

  She did.

  “Okay, that’s enough. You must be blessed with a very normal middle name.”

  Once again, she laughed. “It’s Jean, and I hate it. It would be perfect if I’d wanted to be a country music star.”

  “April Jean will be singin’ for us t’nite, folks,” he twanged.

  “Anyway, about the tornado guru. . .”

  “Hey, that was a meaningful rabbit trail. We learned something about each other.”

  “If you ever say my name through your nose like that again, I’ll use your middle name on the air the next time you call my show.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He loved how easily she made him laugh and lose track of what he was saying. “Friday night. . .Darren will cure your fear of tornadoes. There’s nothing he loves more than showing spine-chilling videos of his close calls.”

  “And that will cure me?”

  “You’ll have chase fever before the end of the night. You’ll be begging for the chance to see an F4 up close and personal.”

  “Right.” She stretched her lips in a pretend smile.

  He looked down at her hand, pressed against the blanket, and touched the silver ring on her index finger, sliding it back and forth. “I don’t know if I’ve actually put it into words yet, but I admire your courage.”

  “I’m anything but courageous.” She crossed her legs to mirror him, and they sat knee to knee.

  “Do you know what Mark Twain said?”

  “No. What did Mark Twain say?” Even in the engulfing darkness, he could see the gleam in her eyes.

  “That courage is not the absence of fear but resistance to the mastery of fear. He said, ‘Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave.’ ”

  “Well then, I guess I qualify. I felt like the lion in The Wizard of Oz at the top of the water tower.”

  “But the point is. . .you were at the top of the water tower.” Seth raised his right hand, sinking his fingers into her hair. He felt her take a tremulous breath. As he leaned toward her, he lifted her chin with his other hand. Millimeters from her lips, he whispered, “I think you’re very brave.”

  Her eyes closed; her lips parted.

  And Seth pointed. “Look, a meteor.”

  April’s eyes jarred open and then followed the line of his arm to the white trail disappearing into the invisible horizon. She smiled, shook her head just the tiniest bit. “Can’t you just call it a falling star?”

  “But it really isn’t a star at all.” He matched her knowing smile. “The streak of light is caused by tiny bits of dust and rock falling into the atmosphere and burn—”

  Her fingers sealed his lips, slowly pulled away. Her eyes closed again.

  And he kissed her.

  Thirteen

  “You’re listening to Christian R&B on this super sunny Thursday afternoon in beautiful downtown Pine Bluff. This is April Douglas. We just heard a Glenn Kaiser song, “In the Ocean of His Love,” a personal favorite of mine. Love those acoustic rhythms. Drowning in the ocean of His love. . .that’s where we all need to be, isn’t it?”

  Words gushed like the St. Croix after a spring rain, in spite of a night full of daydreams in which sleep eluded her. April was in her zone, incredulous, as always, that someone was willing to pay her a salary, be it ever so meager, for doing what she loved. She looked up at Jill and grinned, getting the now familiar thumb in the air in response.

  “We’re taking a little break from routine in a minute. I’m going to give a little teaser of my show, Slice of Life, that’s now airing live from three to five thirty every Saturday. I’ll take as many calls as we can fit into a five-minute slot. Here’s your assignment: In one word, describe how you’re feeling today, positive or negative. No holds barred, just keep it family friendly. After that, give me a single sentence to explain why you chose that word. So break out the thesaurus, and let’s see how creative we can get. I’ll start taking your calls in forty seconds.” She pushed the button that played a public service announcement for the local food bank.

  Her monitor began filling with names before the break was over. She watched the clock, counting down to the green light, and leaned into her microphone. “You’re listening to KPOG, praising our God in Minnesota. My screen is lit with Pine Bluffians ready to share the single word that best describes how they’re feeling today. Shane, what’s your word?”

  “Grateful.”

  April gave an inward sigh. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of—and the reason she was keeping this experiment to five minutes. An hour of Christianese—grateful, blessed, happy, thankful. . .—would be more than she could handle. She’d been hoping for some more nitty-gritty words. “And why did you choose ‘grateful,’ Shane?”

  “Because today is my eighteenth birthday, and thanks to some really forgiving people, I’m having pizza with my youth group tonight instead of celebrating all alone in a jail cell.”

  Okay, so she’d been wrong. Goose bumps dotted her arms. “Our God is awesome, isn’t He?” She swallowed, clearing the roughness the unexpected emotion had brought. “Happy Birthday, Shane. I hope your day is incredible. If you’d be willing to share your story sometime, leave your number with Orlando.”

  She scanned the list, not the least bit surprised to see Seth in the queue. Was this going to be a regular occurrence? She smiled at her reflection on the monitor. Her listeners would start suspecting something if she took his calls every week. “Melissa, what’s your word?”

  “Harebrained.”

  So it wasn’t going to be a predictable few minutes after all. “Can’t wait to hear your reason, Melissa.”

  “I’ve been searching high and low for my dish detergent. My son just found it—right behind the catsup in the fridge.”

  Five more calls produced five more surprises. Apparently her listeners had taken the thesaurus suggestion seriously. Magnanimous, exasperated, worshipful, goofy, and whimsical. . .she really could fill an hour like this.

  “Now, on to our final caller. Seth, what one word describes you today?” She closed her eyes.

  “Breathless. Because I saw a falling star last night and haven’t been able to catch my breath ever since.”

  ❧

  “You did what?” Her mother’s voice, high and shrill, made the hair on the back of April’s neck bristle.

  April scrunched her face at Splash and Willy and turned the volume down on her phone. “You heard me, Mom. I went for a motorcycle ride with Seth.”

  “But. . .”

  “He never got married. They took the picture before the wedding and then called it off.”

  “And you believe that?”

  April rubbed a tight spot on her shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Baby. . .” It was a term her mother used like a weapon. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Take it from somebody who’s been kicked around. . .this man is only going to use you.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about him! All you know is that he’s a man. There are good men out there, Mom.”

  A low huff came through the earpiece. “This is moving way too fast.”

  “What is? We went out a couple times and watched the sunrise together.” And kissed. She picked up Snow Bear and twirled between the coffee table and the kitchen counter. This wasn’t news her mother was going to hear.

  Silence filled the next few seconds. She heard a slow exhale on the other end.

  “Why did they call off the wedding?”

  “It wasn’t his fault, if that’s what you mean. Let’s talk about something else, okay? Midge said she’s hoping you’ll join her and Laura and Sue for lunch one of these days.”

  “Those church ladies don’t want to hang out with me. They’re just doing their Christian duty. I can’t stomach pity.”

  April stared at Willy and Splash, stuck in their eternal battle-ready positions, and swallowed back the
acerbic remarks that burned her throat. Never in her life had she met anyone as adept at eliciting pity as her mother. “I thought you liked Sue and Laura. If you give them a chance, I’m sure—”

  A hollow sigh echoed through the phone. “Don’t try to distract me, April. Believe me, I understand that you want a man in your life, but you can’t just jump at the first guy who talks sweet to you.”

  “A gentle answer turns away wrath. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” She repeated every peacekeeping verse she knew, but her blood still pounded in her temples. Lord, I don’t think it’s possible to live at peace with her. “He’s not a sweet-talker. He’s just a nice, genuine guy.”

  “Sure he is. A nice, genuine guy who left your sister in the rain to get chilled to the bone and—”

  “It didn’t happen like that.” April set Snow Bear on the couch and slumped down beside him. She massaged the spot between her eyes that throbbed with every breath. She’d decided not to bring it up, ever, but living at peace didn’t always mean biting your tongue. She took a deep breath. “Why did you sign the permission slip for her to go with the storm chasers?”

  Silence. A muffled gasp. “I never. . .”

  “They won’t take minors storm tracking without parental permission.”

  “But I. . .I don’t remember. There were so many papers, insurance forms, medical reports. I don’t. . .remember.” A soft sob ended her words.

  And guilt ended April’s internal rage. Deep down, she hurt for her mother. Like simmering magma, that pain was at the center of her very being, sometimes erupting in sympathy, other times in avoidance. She understood pain; she understood betrayal and bitterness. What she couldn’t accept was wallowing in it and sucking everyone else in with you.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “So it was my fault.” A chilling deadness shrouded her mother’s voice.

  “No. You gave Caitlyn a gift, just like Seth and his friend did. That was the best day she’d had in a long time.”

  “But it killed her.”

  “No, Mom. Leukemia killed her. It would have anyway; you know that.”

  Another long, quiet stretch spanned the seconds. April chose not to fill it, hoping her words would sink in.

  “Thank you.” The words were so soft that April wasn’t sure she’d heard them.

  “I love you, Mom.” Not easy to say but true nonetheless.

  “I. . .love you, too.”

  ❧

  Friday night came almost too quickly. Anticipation and anxiety vied for center stage as April’s maroon Grand Prix rolled to a stop in front of Seth’s house. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

  She’d pictured him in one of the newer, more secluded homes on the bluff. A home built for efficiency, with clean lines, neutral colors, and minimalist decorating. That would fit him. Instead, she found herself on Minnetonka Street, just three blocks off Main, in front of a small, two-story symmetrical white house with black shutters, probably built in the thirties. Dormer windows jutted heavenward like raised eyebrows, giving the house a welcoming, smiley face appeal. Two brass lights on either side of the door added dimples to the face—just like its owner’s.

  Seth Bachelor, you are a man of surprises. Grabbing her purse and the pan of brownies she’d baked before work, she got out of the car. As she walked up the steps from the sidewalk to the walkway that led to the house, she assessed her look. Brown wedge sandals peeked out from the hem of her jeans. She’d painted her toenails the exact shade of the two inches of coral tank top that showed beneath a brown T-shirt. She’d used hot rollers to add a bit more curl than usual and wore small turquoise and sterling earrings and a matching necklace. Not too shabby. It felt good to feel good. For months, she hadn’t really cared.

  April stepped between the two sculpted evergreens, twice as tall as she was, that guarded the front door and rang the doorbell. Before the second chime, Seth opened the door. April held out the nine-by-thirteen-inch pan covered in aluminum foil. It gave her something to do in the first awkward seconds when she wondered if he’d kiss her.

  He did. Leaning over the pan, his lips touched hers for only a moment, but his eyes loitered. “Wow.” He stood back, giving her room to walk past him. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She wasn’t usually the blushing kind, but the capillaries under her skin couldn’t seem to stay constricted under the heat of his gaze. Was it proper to tell a man that he also looked—and smelled—amazing? He wore flip-flops, jeans, and a formfitting black Harley T-shirt that appeared to have seen a lot of motorcycle rides. The shoulders were slightly sun-faded, the seams frayed, stirring thoughts of riding behind him without a helmet, hair dancing in the wind, her face resting against the worn-thin shirt. Which would bring her closer to the source of the musky aftershave and the dark stubble shadowing his square jaw line. “Should I put this in the kitchen?”

  “Sure. I’ll give you part of the tour on the way.” He led her through an arched doorway into the living room. White walls, hardwood floors, black couch and loveseat with huge red accent pillows. Above an arched brick fireplace, also painted white, hung a framed black-and-white photograph of a seemingly endless flight of shadowy stone steps, lit by old gaslight streetlamps. In front of the fireplace, a shaggy white rug begged for bare feet.

  “Wow.” It was her turn to use the word.

  Another arched doorway led to the dining room. The walls were bare, the round black table held a square white plate with a cluster of blue and white baseball-sized glass balls. Dishes in the same color, but a different pattern, lined the shelves of a black oriental-inspired china cabinet.

  Seth swept his hand toward the doorway to the kitchen. If April’s mouth had closed since she’d entered the living room, it would have dropped open again now.

  Cupboards, countertop, appliances, and tiled floor, all hospital white, created a blank canvas for vibrant splashes of cobalt blue and lime green. An oversize handblown glass bowl in swirls of blue and white took up the middle of the table in a white-painted breakfast nook. A smaller bowl of the same color, filled with oranges, was the only object on the ceramic counter. Valances, striped blue and new-leaf green, hung over the nine-pane windows. Small pots of wheatgrass graced the sill above the sink.

  She’d gotten the minimalist part right. The color was unexpected. And then a question mark poked its tail into her amazement. Had she done the decorating? Was this the touch of the almost-Mrs. Bachelor?

  “Who did your decorating?” Her voice strained around the lump in her throat. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

  Seth smiled. A smile that said he’d heard the question behind her question. He took the pan from her hands and set it on the counter, leaving nothing but air between them. His hands rested on her arms. “I did. Just me, all by myself. Alone. For me alone.”

  There was nothing she could do but laugh. “I’m really not that insecure.” Usually.

  “Remember what I said on the bluff?” His fingertips found the bottom of her chin. “A little insecurity is just as flattering as righteous wrath.”

  “I’ll try to rememb—” Her words got lost in his lips.

  His arms wrapped around her. Her hands reached up to his shoulders.

  And the doorbell rang.

  Fourteen

  “It’s a college thing.”

  Denisha Williams rolled huge brown eyes toward the kitchen ceiling as Seth and Darren finished an elaborate and ridiculous high-five, low-five, under-duck-and-twirl handshake routine.

  April shook her head. “Are they always this nuts together?”

  “Always.”

  The two men contrasted like photograph negatives. Seth, in his black shirt with his arms barely tanned—Darren, his skin the color of strong coffee, wearing a white Harley shirt.

  Leaning toward Denisha, April whispered, “I missed the memo about wearing Harley shirts.”

  Den
isha’s shoulder-length black curls swayed when she laughed. She rested both hands on the red blouse stretched over her extended belly. “It’s eerie how often they dress alike. I’m convinced they’re twins separated at birth.” Her dark eyes sparkled as she laughed.

  Light, running footsteps and a tumult of claws echoed from the hardwood floor in the living room. “Se. . .th.” Wesley bounded into the kitchen, followed by Maynard, the grizzly bear Seth tried passing off as a dog. Both skidded to a stop in front of Seth.

  “Make me fly, Seth.”

  “He’s working on his t-h sounds,” Denisha whispered.

  Seth ruffled Wesley’s thick black curls and picked him up by the back of his coveralls. “This plane’s gonna be too heavy to get off the ground pretty soon.”

  Wesley made airplane sounds as Seth flew him around the dining room table twice and back into the kitchen.

  “I think the men should make a quick trip upstairs to see my new telescope until the good little women call us for pizza. Right, Wes?” Seth winked in April’s direction.

  Darren planted a kiss on top of Denisha’s head. “We’ll do dishes.”

  As the men walked out of the kitchen, Denisha squeezed April’s arm. “I’m glad we’re getting a little girl time.” She pointed toward the breakfast nook. “I gotta get off my feet.” The bench creaked as she sat down, with no room to spare between her stomach and the table. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I suppose it’s cliché to say I’ve heard so much about you, but it’s true.” She leaned her forearms on the table. “I’m so sorry about your sister. Darren was devastated when he heard about it.”

  “Seth and your husband blessed her with a wonderful day.”

  “Thank you. That’s very gracious.”

  “So what have you heard about me?”

  “It’s all good.” Denisha glanced toward the stove. “Okay, the oven timer’s going off in seven minutes, so I’m just gonna plunge right in. Are things getting serious between you two?”

  April blinked. She hadn’t expected an interrogation.

  A ladylike snort answered April’s awkward silence. “I can see it on your face.” She folded her hands. “Seth is special to me. He dragged my husband back to the Lord a few years ago and saved our marriage. So I’m pretty protective of him. You know he’s been hurt in the past, and all I’m asking is that you promise me you’ll be honest with him—about everything.”