Gabe plopped down in it. “She left it to me.”
Joe remembered going through her things and wondering where the chair had gone. She must have brought it up on her last visit. He was glad she’d given it to Gabe.
Joe stepped toward the desk and the bookshelf next to it. Photographs in a myriad of frames were stacked arm deep. His own face smiled back in more than half.On the full bookshelf he spied a number of best-sellers, as well as a stack of Superman comic books. He picked up one. “Still in love with Lois Lane?”
“Superman has to be,” Gabe said and flexed an arm.
Joe laughed. Despite his appearance, Gabe hadn’t changed much. Yet, as Joe surveyed the room again, he realized his error. This wasn’t the same brother he’d left behind in Eau Claire some fifteen years back or even the one he’d settled in the old dorm that used to occupy this land four years ago. Then Gabe had cried, their mother had sobbed, and Joe had felt like the evil doctor institutionalizing his brother. Guilt, which until that time had been a persistent wolf, bit hard when he signed the commitment papers and tenaciously hung on despite his moves to dodge it.
Joe berated himself for not staying and shouldering his mother’s burden. Yet he knew if he had, he would have shattered. He had to leave. In the end, his mother seemed to understand. She’d even suggested that her eldest son had done the best thing. But Gabe was different. Would he ever forgive Joe for not sticking with them through the hard times?
The question would have to wait for another day. He couldn’t tackle it quite yet. One hurdle at a time. He was glad he’d made it this far and had Mona’s place to hustle back to and regroup. Joe rolled the comic book.“Can I borrow this?”
Gabe smiled, his angled eyes lighting up. “Bring it back with a new one.”
Joe grinned. Nope, different Gabe. More confident.
Full of fun, perhaps even forgiveness. “No problem.”
“Are you in town for a long time?” Gabe’s smile dimmed.
“We’ll see.” He avoided Gabe’s face when he said it.
“Where ya stay in’?”
Joe stared past him, out the window. The last thing he needed was Gabe or Ruby tracking him down and forcing a sticky face-to-face with his new boss. The less Mona knew about his little brother tucked in the woods, the better for them all. “Is that a strawberry patch?”
Gabe jumped to his feet. “Yes. That’s our business.
We sell strawberries.”
Joe grinned and shook his head in amazement. Ruby was from the same stock as Mona—ambitious. “Well, maybe I’ll stick around long enough to taste one,” he said, peeking at Gabe. Gabe lit up like a Christmas tree. Joe couldn’t help but smile in the face of his brother’s intoxicating enthusiasm.
“Come and meet the others,” Gabe said in a rush.“They know all about you.”
Joe slapped his knee with the comic book. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered as he followed his brother from the room.
5
Mona licked an escaping trail of chocolate chip ice cream sliding down the side of her waffle cone and fielded Brian Whitney’s next question.
“So then you went to the University of Minnesota?”
His green eyes, searing her with focused intensity, made her squirm, but his interest in her life seemed genuine. She tried to relax.
“I graduated in five years with an English major.” She caught another drip off the end of her cone. “I always wanted to teach or maybe write. Then I realized my true love was reading and sharing the joy of literature. So I swapped my teaching certificate for a glitzy higher-paying job as a law secretary, saved every dime I made, and poof! Ten years later I’m fixing up the money pit on Route 65.”
“Five weeks left. Think you’ll open on time?”
Mona conceded defeat and surrendered her cone to the trash. “I hope so. I hired a handyman, and he seems to know what he’s doing. He straightened the gutters today, and tomorrow he’s going to jack up the porch and recement the front posts.” Joe’s crooked smile flashed through her mind. That and the way he’d hung on her shed door, looking rumpled yet impossibly handsome, his grin lighting up his face and unraveling the knot in her heart with some sort of masculine magic.
“Sounds like a good man to have around.”
She heard Joe’s voice, gentle and so masculine, as he suggested there might be treasures hidden in Deep Haven, and it sent a soft smile to her face even now. Mona nodded in agreement. “So, you have family here?”
Brian suddenly focused on his ice-cream cone. “Nope.Had some once but they all moved south. I’m the remnant, holding down the family homestead.”
Mona watched his long fingers turn his cone. Elegant fingers. Unaccustomed to labor. The image of Joe’s rough-hewn hands flashed through her mind, and she blinked to focus on the man she should be thinking about. “Not such a bad place to hold down.”
Brian studied her with a peculiar expression. “No, not such a bad place,” he echoed, but his agreement sounded hollow.
Mona folded her hands together, propping her elbows on the table. “Where did you go to school?”
Brian shook his head. “Didn’t. Went straight to work driving trucks for the city. Worked my way up into management.”
Mona raised her brows, remembering his sleek black Honda. “You’ve done okay.”
“What, for a small-town boy?” His aggressive comeback startled her.
“N-no,” she stammered. “I just meant they probably don’t pay well here. You must be a good budgeter. Probably why you work for the city.” She forced the words through a suddenly dry mouth.
“Right. Well, I have my sources. And—” he smiled broadly, as if to restore their friendship—“I am a very good budgeter.”
“So what do you hear about my parking permit?”Mona folded a paper napkin into tiny squares.
“Soon. I’m processing the paperwork.”
“You mean you can’t just snap your fingers and make it happen? I thought all you city officials have ultimate power.” Mona threw tease into her voice.
Brian leaned close, his cologne washing over her, his breath in her face. “We do.”
He probably meant it to be alluring, but she felt a cold fist land in her stomach and recoiled. “Oh, that’s good to know,” she said and forced a smile.
Brian sat back, beaming. “Too bad Liza couldn’t join us.”
Mona couldn’t agree more.
He stretched a hand across the back of the seat. Mona stared out the window of the Tastee Treat. The waves scraped the shore, calling to her, and at that moment she needed the silver-dotted sky. “Can we go?”
The question appeared to startle him. His face darkened. “Sure.”
They stepped out onto the sidewalk. A stinging breeze whipped off the lake, raising gooseflesh on her arms.She wore a light windbreaker over a cotton sweatshirt, but cold seeped through the layers. They didn’t talk. She must have offended him, for his face was taut, his pace 55 quick. Mona heard only the scuff of her high-top tennis shoes against the pavement.
She was going to murder Liza when she got home. She had told her roommate she wasn’t interested in Brian Whitney, and now she knew why. He was too glitzy, too smooth. Not her type. Again, reality proved her dream man a figment of her imagination. The perfect man didn’t exist, and she had been a fool to accept Brian’s offer to go out for ice cream. And an even bigger fool to fall for Liza’s I-have-a-headache routine. She gritted her teeth and pounded out the last steps to the house.
Brian stopped her with a hand on her arm, two feet before her front walk. His dark eyes glinted concern.“Did I do something?” His tone turned a furrow of shame in her heart.
Mona stared at the pavement. “No. I’m just tired.”
She felt his hand under her chin, lifting it. “Maybe we can start over? Rewind the tape and record over this evening? I’d sure like a chance to show you around Deep Haven.”
Mona squinted up at him. He smiled, a five-o’clock shado
w blanketing his chin. His shoulders were wide, and he cut a dashing pose in his tailored pants and V-neck sweater. Perhaps she had judged him too severely. She shouldn’t compare a man like Brian to a drifter like Joe. Joe was intrigue and passing fancy. Brian was commitment and future. She’d do well to remember the difference. She nodded and gave an apologetic smile.
Her answer lit a fire in his eyes. “Great. I’ll be by in a couple of days. I have to go to Duluth for some business. When I get back, I’ll take you out someplace nice.No more slurps and licks.”
Mona forced a smile. She rather liked Tastee Treat, with the right company. “Thanks for the ice cream,” she said, turning.
He caught her hand in one swift movement. She turned just as he pressed his lips against it. “No, thank you, Mona,” he said, grinning at her startled expression.
He left her reeling, desperately trying to untangle her welling confusion.
Joe pulled away from the darkened window. What was Brian up to? He hadn’t liked the man from the moment he’d shaken his sweaty palm earlier that afternoon when the city official had stopped in and arranged the ice-cream date. Joe’s defenses turned on high when he’d caught the look in the guy’s eyes—like a tiger prowling. Then Joe had arrived home from the Garden to discover Mona out alone with the predator. He entwined his fingers and clasped them behind his neck, battling irritation. It wasn’t his business, he reminded himself. He didn’t live here; Brian did. Mona had a future with Brian Whitney, not with Joe Michaels.
Joe stalked to his closet, where he’d piled all the wrinkled clothes from his duffel, hanging the most important on three lonely hangers. He unearthed a pair of black athletic pants, running shoes, and a red Wisconsin sweatshirt. He needed a run, and the beach was just the place to unwind the mess of emotions from the day.
The moist night air, smelling of the lake and budding birch trees, cleared his mind and seeped calm into his soul. No wonder tourists considered Deep Haven, with the waves singing from shore and seagulls calling in harmony, the perfect getaway. He agreed that he’d like to dump his problems outside city limits and enjoy the sanctuary from life that Deep Haven offered. However, he couldn’t afford to take a vacation from the choices he’d made that dictated his life. There was too much at stake.
Joe stretched briefly against the back steps, then lit out in a brisk run down the sidewalk. Lights from distant houses pushed back the darkness in uneven patterns. A dog barked. Rip answered but stayed at Joe’s heels. Joe checked for traffic, then veered out across the street, angling down a short grassy incline to the rocky beach. He dodged waves crashing against a jagged shore, running so awkwardly he didn’t even break a sweat. But Rip loved dancing into the spray, and it gave Joe the opportunity to behold the sky and praise the majesty of the Almighty.
Why am I here, Lord? The answer seemed clear—to get right with Gabe. But God often worked a mosaic, blending lives and purposes. Like when He’d sent Joe to wrestle salmon on a fishing boat in Alaska. The work had been short-lived and excruciating, even dangerous. But he’d seen a shipmate find salvation, saved a fella from washing overboard, and in the end, the adventure had opened countless doors and kept his boss in the black.
God directed every move he made, inhabited every place he lived. Through his mother’s last plea, God had directed him to Deep Haven, and Joe knew, just as he knew he’d take another breath, that God had a bigger plan for him here in this town. Bigger, perhaps, than saving his own bacon, although the Almighty had come through on more than a few occasions.
Maybe he was here to help Mona. That idea had flitted through his mind various times over the past twenty-four hours. She’d seeded a soft spot in his heart when he watched her lug out the phonograph, gritting her teeth and grunting. He’d politely stifled his laughter when she wiped soot across her face, but he couldn’t help but erupt when she fought with the rolltop desk. She had looked so perturbed, her face reddening with bottled frustration when it wouldn’t surrender to her prodding. To say she was tenacious was an understatement. Maybe she really would whip her bookstore into shape. She had Napoleon dreams, to say the least.
God’s plan definitely included Gabe. Warmth enveloped Joe, thinking of his little brother. The accepting smile, the exuberant embrace, and the eagerness with which Gabe had unveiled his life, his friends—all were an exhilarating contradiction to what Joe had expected. When he heard the word institution, it replayed an ancient nightmare in his head. He’d never been able to produce the term in his own speech. Somehow to say it admitted that his father had been right, that he’d been justified in abandoning the family. That having a son—or a brother—who had Down syndrome was a disease or a curse. Especially after seeing Gabe today, Joe would never agree.
He sat on the beach and prayed aloud. “Lord, I’m sorry for ignoring Gabe for so long. He’s my brother and I should have paid attention.” The image of Gabe’s laughing face impaled him. Joe hung his head and dug both hands into his scalp. “What a fool I’ve been.”
“What sort of fool?” Mona walked up beside him.“Thinking you agreed to too much and contemplating making a run for it?” Her fragrance settled over him as she sat down and so unraveled him he could only blink at her. “Sorry,” she said, looking worried. “Am I bothering you?”
He quickly shook his head, his heart galloping in odd rhythm. “Hey,” he finally croaked, “what brings you out here?”
“Stars,” Mona stated in a dreamy voice. She settled next to him on the rocks. “What are you doing out here?”
Joe gave her a sidelong appraisal, taking in her sweet smile, her buttery hair dancing in the wind, her sculptured cheekbones, and the moon twinkling in her eyes. She seemed so calm it made his own erratic heartbeat that much more profound. He struggled to answer.“Praying, actually.”
“Really? You’re a Christian?”
“Yep. Since I was a teen. I found the Lord one night on a solo camping trip. Counting the stars, I was overwhelmed that He’d made every one of them and yet also knew every hair on my head, as it says in Matthew 10.What was even more awesome was that Jesus, God in the flesh, left those magnificent heavens, came to earth, and paid for my sins so that I could know this incredible God. Since then, whenever I pray, it seems easier when I am staring at the sky, at His glorious cosmos.”
“I know what you mean.” Mona hugged her knees.“There’s something majestic about the North Shore.
I can clearly see God’s handiwork. The rhythm of the waves as they reach for my toes, the seagulls riding over the lumps in the water, the smell of the fir and birch trees. God made all this for us to enjoy. It always gives me peace to sit under the stars, surrounded by His creation.”
Her words lit a glow inside him. He couldn’t have said it better himself.
“So, Joe, who are you? I know you can fix gutters, and you drive a mean mower, but what are you doing here? Do you have family in town?”
Joe raised his eyes to the sky, fastening on the dippers and wondering why the air suddenly seemed nippy.“Not really.” Guilt stabbed at him. But he wasn’t about to bring his little brother into the picture, dragging with it dozens of questions and not a little bit of pity. That was the last thing he wanted from this beautiful woman digging through the rocks beside him. Besides, some things were private.
“Are you a handyman by trade?” She tucked her hands into her sweatshirt cuffs, kneading them together, as if chilly. He wanted to put his arm around her, but the image of Brian kissing her hand hit him like a cold spray.
“Off and on. I saw your ad and thought I could help.” That was true enough and sufficiently vague to keep curiosity tamed. The last thing he needed was to spark her interest and start her poking around his privacy. Worst-case scenario would have her asking the police to do some sleuthing, and it then it would only be a matter of time before his life—and Gabe’s—would take an ugly turn.
“Hmmm . . . lucky for me, I guess.”
Joe fished around at his feet and unearthed the perfec
t skipping rock. Winging it sideways into the water, he counted five skips. “I don’t believe in luck or chance,”he said quietly.
Mona turned her head, her cheek resting on her knees. “No, I don’t suppose I do, either. But the other side is sometimes hard to accept.”
The waves scraped the shore in syncopation. A seagull waddled near and ogled them with beady eyes.
“Other side?” Joe asked, shooting a glance at her.
“That God causes all things to happen, that everything filters through His hands.”
Joe saw pain flash through her green eyes. Hers wasn’t a throwaway comment. “The mystery of free will versus predestination. You’re going to tie yourself up with that one, Mona. Either God is in charge or He’s not. We can go round and round about the origin of evil, but the buck stops at God. The question isn’t who causes something to happen, but rather, whether you see the outcome with His eyes or yours. Whether or not you trust He’s got it all in His hands.”
Mona rested her chin on her knees and gazed out into the dark lake. “Romans 8:28. ‘We know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.’ See, I know it by heart, and I know He does take the bad and turn it into good. But you’re forgetting God also holds us accountable for our actions. If it is Him doing it all, then by justice, He can’t hold us accountable.”
Joe smiled. Beauty and theological smarts too. Wow.“We are accountable because we are sinful. The unfortunate truth is that Adam chose to sin, and so do we. But the good news is that God gives us a way out, through Christ. Accountability and forgiveness in one shot. All we have to do is accept it. It’s pretty easy.”
“Or the hardest thing in the world,” Mona murmured.
Her words hung between them. Joe threw another stone in the water, feeling personal indictment take root in his heart. She’d given him a glimpse behind the curtain of her pain and instead of measuring his words, he’d given her a nickel answer. It’s pretty easy. He knew better, and he wanted to snatch back his quip and try again. Silence thickened between them. Rip ran by and scared a seagull.
Happily Ever After Page 6