“If the building is on the market, my agent can get us in.” Brinley reached for her iPhone. “When do you want to see it?”
“Uh, well… I don’t know. SISO is busy through New Year’s Day.”
“Okay.” Brinley pocketed her iPhone. “Let me know and we’ll go see your future music studio.”
Ivan laughed. “It’s just a dream, Brinley. It’s never going to happen. Plan A for me is to get back on the road.”
All Brinley thought was she wanted to give Ivan the world if she could. She wasn’t sure if it was because he looked like he was needy, or that she felt something for him she had not felt for anyone else.
“Regardless of my own plans, I want God’s best for my family, most of all.”
“Grandpa Brooks often said that God knows best.” Only Brinley wondered now whether it had always been Grandpa Brooks rather than God who had called the shots in the Brooks family.
Ivan held her hand. “You seem to know more about God than you let on.”
“Only what Grandpa Brooks told me. Then, of course, I found out from Yun yesterday that some of what Grandpa said to me didn’t match up with her Bible.”
“That’s Grandma for you. You should see what she tells Pastor Gonzalez from time to time. It doesn’t match up!”
“Pastor Gonzalez? Seaside Chapel?”
Ivan nodded.
Brinley thought it was interesting that he didn’t invite her to his church.
“Speaking of which, what time is it?” Ivan asked.
She checked her watch. “Only two thirty.”
“Only? You don’t enjoy being with me?” Ivan folded his arms.
“I’m saying we’ll have enough time to get lunch—if Barbara Jean’s is not too crowded—and then get back to church.”
“It could take us fifteen or twenty minutes to get down, unless we tumble down, in which case we could be dead.”
Brinley punched his arm playfully. “This high elevation doing a number on your head?”
“The proximity with a beautiful lady is.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” He lifted her chin. “Don’t shortchange yourself. God made you beautiful and that’s the way it is.”
“He made me plain.”
“You’re not plain. The word that has been in my mind is pleasant. You’re pleasantly beautiful.”
Brinley looked up into his eyes in interesting colors of light brown and dark green hues with specks of gold. Hazel eyes. She could easily stare at them for hours, but he didn’t let her as he closed his eyes and stopped her further thoughts with a lingering kiss so sweet and light and full of promises of more to come.
She thought about all that on the way down the steps, noisy now with thumping sounds and chattering voices coming up toward them. They passed the same tourists they had met at the pier earlier. When they reached the ground floor, they decided to skip the museum and go eat.
Pleasantly beautiful.
And lovingly kissed.
Twice.
What did it mean? Ivan had called her beautiful. Everyone knew she was plain Jane with the brown straight hair. If not for her bank account, she’d be a spinster like Aunt Ella.
But Ivan?
He was poor. Had to be.
He probably didn’t know, but coming down the stairs, she had spotted the lost threads at the seams on the back of his barn jacket that looked old, like maybe he got it from his grandfather. He should patch that rip up, but if it were up to her, she’d chuck it and buy a new one.
Maybe I could get him a new—
No.
She had revealed too much of herself to Ivan as it was. Getting someone to show up in twenty minutes to fix his family home commode had cost more than the usual call to a plumber. Driving Dad’s million-dollar Bugatti Veyron about town like it were some putt-putt car made the Brooks family look like they threw money around. Surely his brother, Quincy, by way of her sister, Zoe, had told Ivan a lot more than he needed to know about the Brooks family, their holdings, estates, global empire—whatnots, really, compared to the meaning of life, whatever that was.
Ivan McMillan could be like Phinn, Crispin, or Xander. Or worse.
At least her ex-boyfriends had their own fortunes and inheritance. Ivan had nothing.
If you were dirt poor, wouldn’t you want money?
It was time for Brinley to run back into the castle where no one could touch her. It was safe inside the fortress. Out here in the wild, among the peasants, she could get robbed blind.
But the kisses…
His kisses.
They were real.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On Sunday morning, it wasn’t lost on Brinley that Seaside Chapel was constructed to look like a little country church by the sea, complete with a cross on top of the steeple and a garden out in the back, a photographer’s paradise with a meandering boardwalk leading to a pavilion and the beach where Seaside Chapel had conducted many weddings in the years the church had been in existence.
For some reason Aunt Ella wanted to get to the church service early. Reluctantly, Brinley pulled into the parking lot, thinking the entire time that she had had too much church this weekend. Yet she was happy that Aunt Ella was pleased she had obliged her. The church website didn’t say how long the service would last, only when it began: 11:00 a.m.
The front entrance of the church was easy to find, unlike the Fellowship Hall tucked away in a separate building adjacent to the church. God must be smiling down on them because when Brinley coasted to the front entrance, greeters pointed her toward an empty parking spot marked Visitor right around the fountain, close enough for Aunt Ella to walk in. Score!
The oblique morning sun came into the sanctuary through the open French doors. The sunlight rested where the ushers seated them in the last row. They would have sat closer to the front if not for Aunt Ella’s complaining about the long walk down the aisle. When Aunt Ella spent a considerable time looking around, Brinley realized that the reason her great-aunt had wanted to sit in the back was to spot a certain someone inside the church.
Might it be a certain elderly gentleman with the dashing walking stick?
The pipe organ began to play a medley of Christmas carols as the congregation filled up the pews flanked by stained-glass windows that looked older than the church, and painted French doors here and there. Between doors and windows were fresh wreaths with simple red ribbons reminding everyone that Christmas was still around the corner.
Next to her, Aunt Ella’s face brightened considerably.
“Saw him?” Brinley asked.
“He’s over there.” Badly applied pinkish nail polish was splattered on Aunt Ella’s nails as she pointed with tremulous fingers.
Ha! What did I say?
Brinley couldn’t see anyone she recognized, but she peered anyway.
That pleased Aunt Ella to no end. “I hope he says hello to me after the service.”
“If not, we’ll go find him.” Brinley hid her grin in the bulletin.
The program listed all the hymns they were going to sing this morning plus special music by ensembles and trios and the choir and such. She recognized many Christmas hymns she had sung since childhood and around the fireplace at Christmas time with Grandpa Brooks. Too bad she never knew Grandma Brooks. She had passed away when Dad was young.
The welcome message and announcements dispensed with, the platform cleared for an ensemble.
A string quintet!
Brinley’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Ivan McMillan among the violinists and viola players. A cellist and harpist were in chairs and Brinley could only see the tops of their heads from where she was sitting. The church floor sloped to the front, so even the back pews could see the people on the platform, but not by much. With Ivan being tall, he was hard to miss.
“O Holy Night” resonated throughout the entire sanctuary.
Pretty good acoustics in this little place.
Aunt Ella was sing
ing along with the instrumental arrangement of the Christmas carol. Pretty soon, Brinley was joining in, humming the nineteenth-century hymn.
His law is love and His gospel is peace…
The tune was still ringing in Brinley’s ears later on in the service when Pastor Tom Gonzalez stepped up to the podium to deliver his sermon. First thing he did was to ask everyone to turn to John 3:17. Brinley found it on her iPhone. It was the verse after John 3:16, which Yun had shared with her on Friday.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
She followed the words as Pastor Gonzalez read John 3:17 with his expected pastoral gravity.
“‘For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.’ If you miss anything else I say this morning, don’t miss what God says.”
When the sermon finished and everyone stood up to sing another Christmas carol, Brinley was still thinking of one phrase that Pastor Gonzalez had repeated in his sermon.
Not condemnation, but salvation.
She recalled what Yun had said about Grandpa Brooks.
If he had believed in Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, he is in heaven today.
So simple.
Well, many things in life were simple. Grandpa Brooks said that humankind had an innate ability to overcomplicate life.
Still, Brinley felt she had much to think about. Much to mull over. She had more questions she’d have to ask Yun on Wednesday.
* * *
“I can’t believe she’s here at church,” Ivan said to Matt Garnett after they exited the side door of the sanctuary. When he was standing up there playing in the string quintet, he’d looked all the way across the sanctuary and saw her sitting in the last pew with Aunt Ella.
“You said that many times,” Matt said. “What was Pastor Gonzalez's key verse?”
“John 3:17. Why?”
“Just checking if you were paying attention. Look, I have to run. A few things to do before the evening service. Why don’t you go talk to her?”
“Now?”
“Now, Ivan. Don’t be shy.”
Shy? If he were shy he wouldn’t have kissed Brinley. Twice. “All right. Talk with you later.”
Ivan looked for Grandma Yun in her usual seat with the senior adults—she liked to chat with her buddies—but she wasn’t there. He found her talking with Aunt Ella and Brinley instead. In fact, the entire senior adult section—including Hiram Jacobs—was gabbing with Aunt Ella. Something about the Christmas luncheon the day before. They’d probably be talking about that for weeks and possibly months to come.
Ivan sneaked in behind Brinley and whispered in her ear, “I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled to him and they both stepped back to give Aunt Ella’s fan club more room.
“Aunt Ella insisted on coming,” Brinley said. “She’s made some new friends, as you can see.”
“I see that. And I see you. I like your outfit.” Red turtleneck and black pants. “Go Dawgs.”
“Your quintet did a great job.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you find time to practice? You must have performances almost every day this holiday season.”
“We start right after Thanksgiving and don’t let up until the first of the year. I rehearse all the time.”
Brinley looked thoughtful. “Yesterday. You lost three hours of rehearsal.”
She was right, but Ivan wasn’t going to admit it. “I gained time with you. Not enough, but I’d rather be with you.”
“Than play violin?”
“I can always practice later.” Ivan had more to say but here came Grandma and Aunt Ella.
“Would you two like to come over to our house for lunch?” Yun asked. “I think we have enough food for everyone.”
“I’m sure we do, Grandma.” He tried not to frown when thinking of the ramifications of Brinley coming over to lunch at their home. He wished they had a proper dining table but the kitchen table was all they had. If he put Brinley in the seat facing the wall, then she wouldn’t be spending the entire time looking in the direction of their old stove and sink.
That’s it.
“Today instead of tomorrow?” Brinley asked.
“We can do both days if you like.” Ivan touched her elbow.
“What are we having for lunch?” Aunt Ella asked before Brinley said anything.
“Spaghetti,” Yun said.
“I love spaghetti.” Aunt Ella turned to Brinley. “Let’s.”
“Well…”
Ivan wondered what she was going to say.
“I hate to impose.” Brinley looked at him.
“You won’t be, Brin. It’ll be our pleasure.” Ivan realized he had called her Brin.
“I’ll be over for lunch again on Monday.”
“Oh, we might have spaghetti again Monday.” Ivan grimaced.
“How about if I come over today and cancel tomorrow’s lunch?” Brinley turned to Yun. “We can still have tea at two, if you like.”
“I’d like that very much, Brinley.” Yun was all smiles.
Ivan tried to hide his disappointment. “We can do that.”
“Okay. Since we’re the only ones in town and we have to reheat whatever Cara cooked last week, I guess spaghetti sounds good.”
Aunt Ella clapped her hands.
Ivan was relieved. He reached for Brinley’s hand. “Where are you parked?”
“Out front. Almost curbside by the fountain.”
“We’re in the back lot,” Ivan said, letting go of Brinley’s hand. “We’ll see you at our house, then.”
“Should we pick up something on the way? Desserts?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Yun said. “I made a new batch of cookies. Gingerbread, this time.”
Yep. Cookies that I like. Maybe Brin could learn how to make—
What am I thinking!
Ivan realized he didn’t know much about Brinley. Did she cook? What did she cook? What were her interests besides history and old things? What about hobbies? How well did she play the piano? Did she play any other musical instruments? What were her pet peeves? Things she absolutely loved? Hated? Everything in between?
Yikes. I know so little about her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brinley wasn’t sure what had gotten into Ivan. He had seemed antsy the entire time they ate lunch. Sure, the McMillan kitchen was small. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in a small kitchen before. Her apartment when she was at UGA wasn’t any bigger.
Still, his behavior was suspicious. He had made her sit facing the wall and away from the rest of the galley kitchen and refused to let her get up to do anything. She had wanted to help and he had made it look like she was useless. Couldn’t get the silverware or plates. Couldn’t fill glasses with water. Couldn’t dish out the spaghetti. Couldn’t do a thing.
In the end, Brinley waited until Ivan had sat down to eat his lunch before she made her move. He wasn’t going to get away with making her look like she was too fragile for kitchen duties. She wanted to show him that she could help in the kitchen, load the dishwasher, wipe down the counters, domestic stuff that she had seen Cara do. How hard could it be?
She finished her small portion of spaghetti before everyone else and was the first one on her feet as soon as Yun finished her plate.
“Seconds, Yun?” Brinley asked as calmly as she could.
“Yes, please.”
Ivan was on her case again. “I’ll do it. Please sit down, Brin.”
What has gotten into him?
“Ivan, dear.” Yun’s voice was quiet but firm.
“Yes, Grandma?”
“Let Brinley help.”
When Ivan didn’t respond, Brinley did. “Thank you, Yun.”
Brinley carefully carried Yun’s plate to the stove. Don’t drop the plate! Have to show Ivan—
She was blank
ing out as she tried to remember the order of things. Put the spaghetti on the plate first. Then the meat sauce. Then cheese on top.
Seriously, Brin!
She almost laughed at herself, but the plate rocked in her hand and she nearly freaked out. Boy, these stoneware plates are heavy.
“How much do you want, Yun?” Brinley showed Yun her plate. “This enough?”
“More than enough.”
Brinley didn’t dare look at Ivan as she sprinkled parmesan cheese on top. Back at home, they’d be shredding imported Parmigiano-Reggiano, not this whatever-it-was. Then it was back to the table.
Whatever you do, don’t drop the plate.
Aunt Ella also wanted seconds. And thirds. By the time lunch was over, there was nothing left to eat on the stove.
“We still have cookies,” Yun said.
Everyone groaned.
“Maybe in a little bit.” Ivan started clearing the table.
Brinley wasn’t going to let him get away with it anymore. It felt like a domestic squabble and she had to win this. Without asking Ivan, Brinley helped to clear the table. Ivan said nothing to her as they piled up dirty plates on the Formica counter next to the two sinks. In the sinks were colanders, ladles, pot covers. Brinley wondered how he was going to rinse out the plates before putting them into the dishwasher if he couldn’t turn on the single faucet.
He seemed to hesitate. Then he cleared the sinks. That was when Brinley saw that the porcelain sinks were old and stained. In a reno house, that would be the first thing she’d throw out into the dumpster.
In fact, she’d rip up this entire kitchen and throw everything out. Those four-ton dumpsters could take quite a load.
But they live here.
People actually live here.
Brinley remembered the corner stain on the popcorn kitchen ceiling when they had arrived from church for lunch. Probably a leaky roof up there. And before that, Aunt Ella had almost tripped on those unnerving loose pine boards on the porch. If Brinley had her way, she’d call Tobias Vega right away—
This is not my house.
Why did she feel strongly, then? In her heart, she knew she couldn’t help it. She wanted to make life easier for him, for his grandma. Yet what Dad had told her when they went around St. Simon’s and Brunswick and Jekyll buying up foreclosed properties came to mind.
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