Dream Chasers

by Becky Melby

  Her eyes glazed him before she pivoted on spiky heels and strode out.

  The waitress appeared with their coffee and Brenda’s bottled water. Seth stood up and moved to the vacated chair across from April and slid his coffee cup toward him as he asked the confused waitress what Brenda had ordered.

  “Spinach salad, dressing on the side, no croutons, chicken breast instead of bacon.” The girl in the apron and massive bonnet seemed to be struggling to rattle off the instructions in an even voice. Apparently, she’d sized up Brenda in short order.

  “Heap on some bacon and pour the dressing on top, and I’ll eat it.” He turned his attention on April. “Mind if I join you for lunch?”

  April looked as though she’d just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the county fair. “I. . .guess.” Parallel lines formed above her nose. “That remark about emergencies was rude.”

  “Yes, it was. I had every intention of being polite, but. . . .” He lifted his coffee cup. “If I were a betting man, I’d bet there was nobody on the other end when her phone rang.”

  “Seth!”

  It was the second time she’d used his name in half an hour. Was he ever going to hear her say it again without the exclamation point? “Brenda downloaded a program that rings your phone to get you out of sticky situations. She hit the ‘hot key’ when she reached for her lipstick.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  Oh yes, I do. “Did anything get settled in your mind in that. . .brief encounter?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t like seeing her embarrassed. He put both hands around his cup to keep from touching her hand in a gesture she might perceive as patronizing. “So what’s next on the dream list?”

  “Thank you.” A genuine smile lit her eyes. So he’d been right to change the subject. “I have to put off anything that costs money since it’s going to cost me something to move. . . .”

  “Can we leave that little fact out of our conversation? I’m being an ostrich on that subject.”

  The waitress appeared with a bowl of soup, a bread basket, and Seth’s salad. When she left, April reached across the table and held her hands out for his. “I’ll pray.”

  Her warm hands hugged his. “Lord God, thank You for this food and this time. Thank You for the way You meet all our needs. You are in the details, Lord, and we trust You.”

  She opened her eyes and the deepness of the blue was once again too deep, but he couldn’t have let go of her hands if his life depended on it—nor could he remember what they’d been talking about before she’d reached for his hands. He fumbled for a coherent sentence. “Will you make it home in time to watch the weather tonight?”

  Her thumbs swept across his knuckles. “I always make it home in time for you.”

  Seventeen

  April’s head felt like it was banded with steel straps. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse next to Snow Bear. With little to do other than supervise Chrissy, the afternoon had dragged. Her headache, which had started the moment Brenda walked out of the Sage Stoppe without answering a single question, had gotten worse with each jerk of the second hand on her office clock. And just to add to the stress, she’d promised to spend Saturday with her mother.

  She turned on the window air conditioner in the bedroom and positioned a fan so that it would draw the cool air into the living room. Even Willy and Splash looked wilted. “Hard to fight in this heat, isn’t it?” Neither of them looked especially anxious to grab the flakes she sprinkled over them. “I know just how you feel.”

  After changing into shorts, she rummaged through the refrigerator for something that wouldn’t require heat or effort. Thanks to the generosity of a listener who worked for Bridgeman’s, two pints of Wolf Tracks ice cream called her name through the freezer door, but she settled on a cold chicken leg and some cottage cheese.

  Paper plate and iced tea in hand, she flopped onto the couch and turned on the news. Five minutes to Seth. The thought revived a little voice she’d been trying to silence all afternoon. Why hadn’t he asked her to do something tonight? Not that she wanted to be locked into a Friday night date routine, but he hadn’t mentioned any plans. She sank back on Snow Bear as she took a halfhearted bite of chicken. The bear’s head turned when she squished him. He seemed to be staring at her.

  “Tell me he’s not with Brenda.” Was Seth the “business” Brenda had in Pine Bluff?

  A tap on the door kept her from waiting for an answer from a stuffed bear. “Come on in.”

  Yvonne’s shift at the nursing home had ended more than two hours earlier, but she was still in uniform.

  “What have you been up to?” When she didn’t get an answer, April looked closer. Yvonne’s eyes were red and puffy. “What’s wrong?”

  “We lost a resident a little while ago. A sweet little old lady.” Yvonne dropped her purse on the floor and closed the door behind her. “And then on the way home, Michael W. Smith was singing ‘Friends,’ and I just started thinking about how nothing’s for sure, you know, and nothing’s going to be the same after you move. I know you’ll come back here on weekends, but you’ll want to be with Seth, and I’ll be married in two months and—” A sob shook her shoulders.

  April jumped up and wrapped her arms around Yvonne, triggering her own flood of tears. When she pulled away, Yvonne laughed. “Do I look as bad as you do?”

  Staring at the streaks of black that ran from Yvonne’s eyes to her chin, April shook her head. “You could never look as bad as me. Do you have plans tonight?”

  “Not until eight. Kirk’s having dinner with some guys from work.”

  “Have a seat. I know just what we need.”

  Seth was pointing at a radar map when April sat down beside Yvonne with two spoons and two pints of Wolf Tracks. Listening to Seth’s smooth voice, April shut out the uncertainty of the day. “This is kind of the best of everything, you know? My headache’s going away already.”

  “Just what the doctor ordered.” Yvonne’s raccoon eyes squinted when she smiled. “The guy’s not hard to look at.”

  Seth’s brown sports jacket matched his eyes. April tuned in and out of the weather report.

  “. . .line of storms headed our way that’ll give us a break from the heat for the Fourth of July weekend, but we’ll have to be on the lookout for possible severe weather. This is the kind of front that could develop. . . .”

  “He’s so sweet.” April licked her spoon like a Popsicle.

  “Told you so.”

  “Yes, you did.” She pulled her attention off Seth’s eyes and onto his words.

  “. . .All in all, it’s a good night to do something in air-conditioned comfort. Something like the climbing wall at the YMCA in Coon Rapids, maybe.” His dimple deepened. “This is Seth Bachelor for KXPB Weather. Have a blessed night.” His index finger pointed at the camera. “I’ll be over to pick you up at seven.”

  Yvonne gave a long, low whistle. “I told you so.”

  ❧

  The gym smelled of stale sweat and dirty socks. Oldies music and the triumphant yells of three teens who’d made it to the top rebounded off the cement-block walls. April stood at the bottom of the climbing wall in full harness, telling herself the dampness on her palms was irrational. One of the spotters had told her the wall was twenty-eight feet tall, only a fraction of the height of the water tower. But the water tower had ladder rungs, and it didn’t have a four-foot overhang at the top,

  “This’ll be a piece of cake for you.” Seth double-checked her harness.

  “It’s not only fear of heights I’m battling; it’s fear of no biceps.”

  Seth pinched her upper arm between his thumb and fingers. “Hm. You may be right.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.”

  He tousled her hair the way he’d done with Wesley. “One step at a time.”

  “One step at a time. One step at a time.” She whispered the words as her fingertips found a hold above her head and her foot left the floor.


  Rock by rock, with Seth only two feet away, offering a constant flow of encouragement, she made it to the overhang. “I think this is far enough for the first time.”

  “You have to at least try it. Even if you do slip, you won’t hit the ground.”

  “But I’ll dangle like a spastic spider.”

  His laugh bounced off the rock face. “I think I have just the thing to get you over the top. Stay right there.”

  His left hand stretched toward a rock that jutted out just above her head. He found a foothold and shifted to his left until his arm touched hers. “I’ve been trying to figure out the best time to break this to you.”

  If he thought he was calming her jitters, he was way off base. “Break what to me?”

  “Well, you see”—his lips grazed her knuckles—“it appears I’m in love with you.”

  ❧

  “Take your shoes off.” April padded up the weather-beaten outside stairs leading to her mother’s apartment. Her stomach felt jittery. Maybe having Seth bring her to her mother’s wasn’t such a great idea after all. She wouldn’t have a getaway car if things got tense, and she’d have to worry about Seth staying awake on the hour drive back to Pine Bluff.

  Shoes in hand, Seth followed. “Are we gonna get in trouble for breaking curfew?”

  “Shh! Want me to get grounded?”

  “I thought you said your feet wouldn’t touch the ground for days.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose as she fit the key in the lock and opened the door to the galley kitchen.

  Seth set her gym bag on the floor. April looked up at him. Slits of light from a streetlamp sneaked through the venetian blinds and lined his face. She slid easily into his arms, feeling like she belonged there. “Thank you,” she whispered against his shirt.

  “What did I do now?”

  “I was feeling so sorry for myself, sitting home alone on a Friday night after a lousy day, and here you had the whole night planned. The climb, dinner, the walk, the words. . .”

  “Which words?” His chest vibrated as his words baited her.

  “I love you.”

  “You do?”

  “I do.”

  He pulled back several inches, one arm still around her waist. The fingers of his right hand glided into her hair. “Even if it means a three-hour drive, I’m going to keep filling up your Friday nights. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  “That’s o—” The overhead light flashed on.

  “April!” Her mother stood in the doorway in a faded pink robe, gray roots showing in her tangled hair, clutching a vacuum cleaner wand like a billy club. “What is he doing here?”

  Pulling slightly away from Seth, April kept her hand on his back. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Seth. Seth, this is my mother, Lois Douglas.”

  Seth extended his hand and then dropped it to his side when the gesture wasn’t reciprocated. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Douglas.”

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  April commanded her eyes not to roll. “I told you I’d be here late.”

  “You told me you’d be here late.”

  “We were at the Y, and then we had dinner at Solera.” Why did she feel like a high school kid caught sneaking home after midnight?

  “The couch is made up.” Her mother turned and stepped into the dining room. “I doubt I’ll be able to go back to sleep now.”

  Was that remark made to incite guilt or to say she’d be watching to make sure Seth wasn’t staying?

  Seth’s hand slipped from her back. “Mrs. Douglas? Could I talk to you for a moment?”

  April’s mother stopped as if his words were a brick wall. “Nothing you can say will change a thing, Mr. Bachelor.”

  “I know that. I’m so sorry about the loss of your daughter. We never would have taken her if we’d known she was so sick. She turned in the permission slip, so—”

  Lois Douglas’s hands rose to her face. “I don’t remember signing it. If I’d known she’d be outside, that she’d get wet and cold. . .” Her face distorted, and she turned away.

  April covered the space in three strides and put her arms around her mother. She looked up into Seth’s helpless face, and they stood like that, eyes locked, until her mother’s sobs quieted. April guided her to a straight-backed chair and left the room to find a box of tissues.

  When she returned, Seth was on his knees in front of her mother.

  “. . .anyone’s fault, Mrs. Douglas. From what April has told me, Caitlyn was a pretty headstrong girl.”

  Seth’s words were soft. Unbelievably, her mother responded with a smile. “She was that.”

  “Can I tell you about that day?”

  Her mother took a Kleenex, wiped her face, and nodded.

  April watched in awe as Seth, still on his knees, described driving toward the bank of dark clouds with three teens in the back of Darren’s van singing Sesame Street songs.

  “Your daughter was wearing this crazy elephant stocking cap.”

  Her mother nodded. “April bought it for her.”

  Tears stung April’s eyes. Shortly before Caitlyn’s diagnosis, they’d gone to see Horton Hears a Who. She could picture the floppy elephant ears so clearly. And Caitlyn’s comical grin.

  “When it started to rain, we pulled under an overpass and dug out the rain gauges so the kids could set them out. Caitlyn took one of the gauges and ran out into a field.” He paused and looked up at April.

  April hadn’t heard this part, but she nodded encouragement.

  “She was laughing and leaping over the rows of cut corn with the other kids following her. My buddy made a comment that they were acting as goofy as his four-year-old with his little friends. All of a sudden, Caitlyn stopped.” Again, he glanced up at April. “She raised her hands in the air like she was worshipping. Even from the road, I could see her smile. And then. . .she took off her cap. . .and threw it into the wind.”

  A gasp slipped from April’s throat.

  “It was. . .beautiful. And until that moment, we had no idea she was sick.”

  Eighteen

  He’d given Brenda long enough. Not one of his e-mails, text messages, or phone calls had been answered. Seth had no doubt where he’d find her at six o’clock on Thursday morning. She’d be working off the guilt from eating pizza at her Wednesday night book club.

  He rubbed his hand over his face as he turned onto Spring Street. He was a morning person, but setting the alarm for four o’clock wasn’t his idea of fun. He scanned the Anytime Fitness parking lot. Three spaces from the front door, he spotted the silver Audi. But instead of opening the car door, he closed his eyes.

  Lord, let my words be pleasing to You. You know my heart is not filled with grace at this moment, but let me listen to You before I speak.

  Two minutes later, he stood face-to-face with a sweaty, disheveled, and extremely self-conscious Brenda.

  As the blush covered her cheeks and neck, she greeted him with a smile and a hug that he didn’t return. “What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

  “I just have a few questions.” He lifted the two envelopes in his hand as a shield. “Does this job you’ve offered April really exist?”

  “Of course! What do you take me for?”

  Lord, help. . . . His teeth clamped down on his tongue until he could trust himself with words.

  “Is there any part of this offer that isn’t exactly the way you described it to her?”

  “She’ll be on the air with her own show in six weeks, I promise.” A manicured hand ran from his shoulder to his elbow. “You must be sooo proud of her.”

  Pins and needles prickled along his spine. “If you’re lying about any of this, I’ll be back.” He hadn’t intended to sound like the Terminator. Then again, he liked the sound of that title. That was, in fact, what he’d come to do.

  “You’ll always be back, Seth.” Pink nails retraced the line from his elbow to shoulder.

  Seth drew back. The muscles in his neck tightened like
a vise. The envelopes in his hand felt suddenly heavy. He shoved the smaller one, the one addressed to her father, in front of her face. “This is the last payment. I need your signature on the deed, and this will all be behind us.”

  The color left her face. She blinked. And then her lips pulled tight across her teeth and her shoulders straightened. “There’s no proof that you’ve given me a single penny for my half.”

  ❧

  The promised call from Brenda hadn’t come. April had left messages five days in a row. She tossed her cell phone on her desk and her pencil holder in the cardboard box on the floor. She could recite the voice mail message by heart, flawlessly imitating the chirpy tone.

  Plunking down on her desk chair, she stared at the KOEK home page, trying to picture her face on it. Picking up her phone, she did the thing Brenda had, with no explanation, told her not to do. She dialed the station and asked for the manager.

  “Bud Palmer here.”

  “Mr. Palmer, this is April Douglas.”

  “Yes. I’ve been waiting for Brenda to set up a meeting with you.”

  April’s shoulders lowered from their permanent place near her ears. He knew who she was. That eliminated her biggest fear, anyway. “Mr. Palmer, I’ve got tons of questions, and I imagine you have some for me. If you’re busy right now, I’ll call back when it’s convenient.”

  “I’ll make time right now. I’m excited about you coming. We put a half page ad in the Winona Daily News announcing the upcoming On the Spot.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your. . .show.” He sounded confused. “Brenda came up with the idea. Hasn’t she told you anything? Yeah, On the Spot. Our tagline is ‘Real People. Real Shockers.’ ”

  April’s throat constricted. “Wh. . .what is the format?”

  “Just like it sounds. One guest per show. They sit there having coffee with you just like you’re old buddies, and then zam! they let go a zinger, some buried secret or juicy bit of gossip about a friend, old boss, or ex—somebody they want to get even with.” His laugh belonged in a circus sideshow. “And then you call that person on the phone and repeat what you just heard. The rest, as they say, is history.”