“Yeah!” Max scrambled into the garage, the Ninja Turtles toys abandoned in the shade of a juniper bush.
Zeke cut the corner out of a spare cardboard box to use as a wedge to hold the geode. Then he fetched a hammer, chisel, and two pairs of protective glasses out of a plastic toolbox. They needed three, so he fetched his sunglasses out of the SUV and put them on. He gave the clear plastic pairs to Max and Julia, and they all crouched in the middle of the garage.
Max wrinkled his nose. “We look funny.”
“We also look smart,” Zeke replied. “The glasses will keep any rock pieces from hitting us in the eye.” He’d been down that road once. Never again.
After smiling her appreciation to Zeke, Julia patted Max on the back. “That’s a good safety lesson.”
Zeke set the geode in the wedge, positioned the chisel, and tapped it with the hammer. He made three cuts, then turned to Max. “Would you like to give it a try?”
When Max’s eyes lit up, Zeke motioned for the boy to scoot in front of him. Knowing the hammer was heavy, Zeke put his hand over Max’s smaller ones, and together they made another cut.
When they finished, Zeke offered the tools to Julia. “Your turn.”
She gripped the hammer and positioned the chisel but checked with him before making a cut. “Is this right?”
“Close enough.” Perfection no longer mattered to him.
She gripped the hammer, shifted her fingers again, but still hesitated. “I don’t want to ruin it.”
“Here. I’ll help.” He put his hand over hers, and together they tapped the stone twice. At the third tap, the ugly rock split in two to reveal the purest, most stunning purple geode Zeke had ever seen.
Julia caught her breath. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s amethyst.” The semi-precious stone was one of his favorites, in part because it made appearances in the Bible. In Hebrew, the word for amethyst was ahlamah, and it meant dream stone. The tie-in to Dare to Dream wasn’t lost on him. In Greek, amethyst meant “not drunken,” and that seemed fitting too. Zeke had been drunk on his own accomplishments, and he was done with that now.
He picked up the two halves of the stone, handed one to Max and the other to Julia. “These are for you.”
Max said, “Wow!” and took the rock in both hands, but Julia refused to accept hers.
“I can’t. It’s too special.”
“Take it.” He pushed it into her palms.
“But—”
“Take it,” he said again. “We’ll find a special place to put it.”
We. She must have heard, because her cheeks turned the color of rose quartz.
He didn’t know what to say with Max present, so he kept it simple. “I’m not where I want to be, but I’m not where I was either. God’s working on me.”
Julia studied him for a moment. “It’s part of being human, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Being clay in God’s hands. Seeing our weaknesses, trusting Him to change us.” She ran her finger over the shell of the cut geode. “Some changes take a long time, but others are instant. One minute you’re standing on your own two feet, and the next you’re on your face in the dirt. Getting up takes a lot more time than falling down.”
No wonder he loved this woman. She understood him in ways no one else did, and he understood her too. Their journeys had started in very different places, but now they were on the same path. For today, that was enough.
They shared a companionable silence until Max announced he was hungry.
“Me too,” Zeke said. “Let’s get pizza.”
“Yeah!” Max leapt to his feet. “Let’s pretend we’re Ninja Turtles. Mommy can be April O’Neil and you can be Leonardo.”
Zeke reached for Max and tickled him. “How about you? Who are going to be?”
“I’ll be . . .” Max couldn’t stop laughing.
“How about Donatello?” Zeke suggested. “He’s good at science.”
“Cool!”
While Julia gazed sweetly at her son, Zeke studied the soft line of her mouth, the tender dip of her chin, and he thought of a rock of another kind—the diamond he wanted to slide on her finger. His career was hanging by a thread, but his faith was coming back strong. If God moved the way Zeke hoped, he’d be shopping for that ring very soon.
twenty-nine
On Monday morning, the paving contractor arrived at Golden Point with a machine that stank of oil, tar, and dirt. Julia was never so happy to see asphalt being laid in her life. She and Zeke visited the site together, traded high fives, and breathed easier. Later in the week, when the grounds crew brought potted trees and the decorators added custom touches in Tiff’s wedding colors, the walkway would be lovely.
Later in the day, George and Ellen returned from their trip. They took over everything to do with Max, freeing Julia to focus solely on the wedding.
On Tuesday, Tiff and Ginger drove up from Los Angeles and made themselves at home in the mansion. Derek and his parents arrived later the same day and moved into the cottage two doors down from Julia’s.
Even the weather was cooperating. It was Wednesday morning, and the forecast called for rain in the afternoon. With a little luck, the valley below Golden Point would perk up, the mountains would glisten, and Saturday’s sunset would be one of the most beautiful in the history of Caliente Springs.
Wedding preparations zipped along with surprising ease now that the path to the lookout was done. A little too easily, in Julia’s opinion, because a hundred things could still go wrong. She wouldn’t relax until Tiff and Derek left for their honeymoon.
She was going over her to-do list when her phone flashed with Ginger’s caller ID. Ginger never called before ten o’clock. On alert, Julia picked up the phone with one hand and a pen with the other.
“Julia, good morning!” Ginger never sounded that cheerful, especially not in the morning.
“What’s up?” Julia asked.
“I hate to do this to your seating plans, but I’m bringing a date to the wedding as well as two additional guests to the rehearsal dinner. We’ll need three extra seats total for the dinner.”
Julia did a mental calculation. The rehearsal dinner was planned for eight o’clock at the Travers house on the back patio. Derek’s parents were officially hosting, the evening was formal, and the menu included lobster and filet mignon. There were fourteen guests including herself, a courtesy extended by Ginger. The seating plan called for two tables of eight, one for family and one for the bridal party.
Julia saw an easy fix. “I’ll bow out.”
“Thank you, dear. You’ve been a joy to work with. I hope this wedding gives Dare to Dream a big boost, because you deserve all the success in the world.”
“Thank you. It’s been a pleasure.”
More than a pleasure. A painful lump pushed into Julia’s throat. This month at Caliente Springs had changed her life. But what happened next? When the wedding was over, she and Max would return to Los Angeles. What would happen with Zeke? There would be phone calls and FaceTime, but she wanted so much more.
Ginger’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other in the future. The way George is carrying on with your mom, you might have to start calling me Aunt Ginger.”
Julia was genuinely pleased. “They’re great together.”
“I think so too.”
Ready for work, she peeled off a fresh Post-it. “So the man you’re bringing . . . I’ll need his name for the place cards.”
“It’s Maury.”
The pen dangled over the note. “Maury Applegate?”
“Yes.” Ginger paused. “I’m afraid I owe Zeke an apology for admonishing him to keep his personal life and business matters separate. Maury and I met for dinner in Los Angeles. What started as a business meeting turned into a delightful time.”
“I’ve always liked him,” Julia admitted.
“I’m sure you’ll understand about the other two gue
sts. Since Hunter is here with Maury, it seemed rude not to include him. And since Hunter’s time with Max is so short, he asked to bring him. Derek’s parents are fine with it.”
But I’m not. Unless requested by the bride or groom, a four-year-old didn’t belong at a formal dinner. Max especially didn’t belong, and she didn’t trust Hunter to look out for him. “I appreciate the invitation, but Max can be a handful.” And a distraction to her. “I’ll find a baby-sitter.”
“Go ahead and bring him. Hunter tells me he’s an exceptional little boy. If Max gets bored, we’ll set him up with a movie in George’s den.”
Ginger meant well, but she didn’t know very much about four-year-old boys. “Thank you, but I still think a sitter is best.”
“Whatever you decide is fine. I suppose it’s between you and Hunter.”
Always. The never-ending tug-of-war. Rather than turn the rehearsal dinner into a war zone, she conceded a small battle to avoid a bigger one. “Well, if you’re sure it’s okay . . .”
“Oh, I am.”
Julia made a mental note to order a children’s meal. Lobster and filet mignon were far beyond Max’s pallet. “I’ll make it work.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Anything else?”
“No, we’re set.”
Ginger paused. “A month ago, I would never have guessed George and I would be talking to a man like Maury. We met with him last night. I can’t go into the details yet, but Maury’s making phone calls.”
Wincing, Julia pictured Hunter smirking at Zeke in triumph. If she and Zeke shared a future, Hunter’s jabs would be part of their family landscape. Who wanted to live with that? She didn’t. But maybe that was the challenge to them all.
To forgive daily.
To endure the stinging darts and arrows.
To love the unlovable.
She couldn’t do any of those things without God in her life. Even with God, every encounter with Hunter presented a new challenge to forgive as generously as she’d been forgiven.
Ginger changed the subject to the wedding. They chatted awhile longer about the weather, both agreeing a little rain would be wonderful but that too much could lead to a muddy mess.
When the call ended, Julia pressed back in her chair. There wasn’t a thing she could do about the weather or Hunter, but she could help Zeke fight for Caliente Springs. All she needed to do was pray, hope, and pull off the wedding of the century.
With rumors finding him like smart bombs, Zeke stayed home on Wednesday morning to compose a company-wide email about the possible sale of the resort. He started the memo a dozen times and deleted each draft. If he didn’t give solid facts, which he couldn’t, anything he wrote would fan the flames of fear burning in every office and hallway. He needed to put out the fire, but all he could do was type and delete.
Fed up, he shoved his laptop aside and bowed his head. “Lord, I need a break here. I don’t care if it’s the Carter account coming through or Maury giving up. This ship is going down unless you do something.”
And Zeke was going down with it.
He sat for a long moment on the couch, his neck stiff and his heart cold again. Did he need to pray harder? Fall to his knees? Cry and scream and pound the floor? He wanted to throw the laptop across the room. Instead, he put on his best suit and steeled himself to face the mayhem at the office. Maybe Julia could buoy him out of his dark mood.
He climbed into his SUV, set his phone on the console, and turned the ignition. He was backing out of the driveway when George’s Corvette whipped up the street. There was only one reason George would come to Zeke’s house. There had to be news about Applegate. Zeke pulled back into the driveway, pushed the car door open, and slammed it behind him.
George stood by the Corvette, his expression neither warm nor cold. “Get in. We’re going for a ride.”
“Let’s talk here.” Zeke tried to make a joke. “If you’re going to fire me, I’d rather lick my wounds in private.”
“Come on, Zeke. Humor me. Thanks to Ginger, Tiff, and two of the bridesmaids, the whole house stinks of hairspray, perfume, and salad dressing. I need some fresh air.”
Zeke glanced at the gray sky. The clouds were building in the southwest, and the air was heavy with humidity rare to California. Maybe rain was a good omen. “Fine. Let’s go.”
They rode in silence with the radio on an oldies station. After a couple of miles, George steered down a dirt road that led to an abandoned campground. With the Corvette bouncing in the ruts, they veered around a hill and made a sharp turn. The road ended at a cluster of picnic tables and campsites marked by broken lines of white rock.
George turned off the ignition, and they both climbed out. The campground seemed like an odd place to go, especially with the threatening sky, and Zeke wondered why George chose it. But then he saw the hard set of George’s jaw. Whatever he had to say, Zeke wasn’t going to like it. In his mind, the picnic table in front of them took on the form of an altar, and he knew with utter certainty that he was the lamb brought to slaughter.
Mouth tight, George stared at something in the distance. It wasn’t like him to hesitate, and the delay severed another strand of Zeke’s self-control. “Maury’s buying this place, isn’t he? That’s why you dragged me out here. You’re going to tell me you’re sorry, but—”
“You know,” George drawled, “you can be a real pain in the butt. I’m trying to be fair to you.”
“So you drag me out here—”
“I brought you here so we could talk without getting interrupted by your stupid phone, my stupid phone, or any other stupid thing. This isn’t an easy conversation to have.”
“So finish it.” Tell me I’m fired. Send me packing. Tell me I didn’t do enough, wasn’t strong enough or smart enough.
George looked him square in the eye. “Ginger and I met with Maury last night. I can’t give you the details, but I’ve changed my mind about working with him. He’s a good man, Zeke. He has resources we need.”
So Santa Claus had come to town, and it wasn’t even December. Zeke squeezed the back of his neck until it hurt. There wasn’t a superhero anywhere who could compete with the jolly man in red, but God could. Except God didn’t hand out candy canes or say “Ho ho ho.” He loved his kids, but he didn’t spoil them.
But neither did he abandon them.
Zeke jammed his hands in his pockets. He felt no peace at all, nor did he sense God’s presence. He didn’t see God anywhere, but maybe God was watching from a distance, sitting on His throne, waiting for Zeke to make the next move.
Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.
But the tapping felt more like a death blow. And the death blow had come from a man Zeke considered a close friend, a mentor, even a little like a father.
George planted a boot on the old wooden bench. “It’s not over yet, Zeke. I wouldn’t have said anything to you just yet, but Chet called Ginger about a rumor that you had already been let go.”
“So is it true?”
George hesitated. “Everything is on the table right now. But I want you to know I’m your friend. If worse comes to worst, I’ll fix you up with Home and Hearth again.”
“Great. Now I’m a charity case.”
“Forget your pride—”
“Pride?”
“Yes, pride.”
Far more than his pride was on the line. His whole life depended on what George, Ginger, and Maury decided. A good job meant food on the table, a roof over Julia’s head, and shoes for Max. His salary at Home and Hearth had been decent, but it was small compared to what he made now. He didn’t need to drive a black Lexus, but he wanted very much to give Julia and Max a secure future.
“You don’t get it, George.” His voice scraped at his dry throat. “I have plans, hopes. This will change everything.”
George folded his arms over his chest. “You’re jumping to conclusions here. You don’t know what the future holds.”
“Neither do you.”
“That’s right.”
“So?”
“So be patient. It’s not over yet.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” For Zeke, finding a new position could take months, and with Julia and Max in his life, he was tied to Southern California. So was she, because of Hunter. Why, God? I did my best. I tried to trust you. Fury crackled in his chest, caught fire, and threatened to explode in an outburst he couldn’t control. Zeke didn’t want anyone, not even George, to see him fall apart, so he turned his back.
“Get out of here. I’ll walk home.”
“Are you nuts?” George aimed one thick brow at the dark clouds. “It’s going to rain. You’ll get soaked.”
“Go,” Zeke said again, his voice rising. “I’m fine.”
“You’re angry. I get that—”
“Angry?” Whirling, he held out his hands, his arms wide and out of control. “You bet I’m angry. I had plans, George. Good ones. And now—”
“Hey.” George clamped a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “The situation is complicated. You have to trust me.”
Trusting wasn’t something Zeke did easily. He was far more accustomed to trying. He pointed at his own chest. “I worked my butt off and it wasn’t enough. It never is. Never. I’ve had it, George. I’m sick of trying. Sick of it all.”
“I bet you are.” George’s voice came out softer now, almost songlike. “You’ve been running on your own steam for a long time. I’ve watched you, Zeke. You live like you’re being chased by lions. But you know something? You can’t outrun them. They’re big and hungry, and if you run, they chase you. I know, because lions chased me for a lot of years. Sometimes you just have to stop and—”
“Drop it, all right?”
“Sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can.” Zeke stabbed a finger at the car. “You just close your mouth and leave. It’s easy.”
George let out a snort. “Rant all you want, but I’m not budging from this campground. I care about you, Zeke. I care too much to keep quiet right now.”
Someone Like You Page 26