The House at Rose Creek

by Proctor, Jenny

  Kate finally spoke. “But why run away? Why not discuss it with Ashley? Break it to her gently. I mean, to have an old roommate slip her the news . . .”

  “Ah, Valerie told you,” he said.

  “Ashley told me,” Kate said. “When she came upstairs this morning.”

  “To warn you, I guess,” Andrew said. “I shouldn’t have run away. I was wrong, and I know that. But I was running scared. Essentially, I knew I wasn’t just walking away from Ashley. I was walking away from my job, the company, from my home in Richmond. It just . . . I don’t know.”

  “Ashley told me she had no idea,” Kate said. “She thought you were her prince charming. She had no idea anything was wrong.”

  “I don’t know if that’s completely true,” he responded. “It wasn’t always an easy relationship. You know, I think about it every day. Every day I could kick myself for being so stupid, for carrying on for so long, living, waiting, and hoping for that one moment when I might wake up and suddenly find that I loved Ashley the way I was supposed to, the way she deserved. I didn’t want to hurt her; I just . . . life just got ahead of me. And I made a big mistake.”

  Kate took a slow, deep breath. Hearing Andrew’s side of the story, it was easy to have compassion for him. She could tell he was still struggling with conflicting emotions over hurting Ashley. His distress was clearly sincere. And yet, it was difficult to accept that there was a side of Andrew—a career, a life, a history—that she knew nothing about. It led her to question what she did know about him.

  “When were you going to tell me?” she asked. “We’ve been pretending this entire time that your life is here—living in Rose Creek, working for your uncle—but it’s not.”

  “Except it is, Kate. I know I walked away from a lot when I left Richmond, but I’d be kidding myself if I thought life up there was any more meaningful than helping out my uncle down here. I should have told you sooner. I wasn’t trying to mislead you, but what was I going to say? It’s not exactly something I’m proud of.” Andrew was more emotional than Kate had ever seen him. His face was flushed with intensity, and his arms were tense.

  Kate softened. “We all make mistakes,” she said. “We’ve all done stuff we aren’t proud of. Andrew, I didn’t go to my brother-in-law’s funeral. Did I ever tell you that? I didn’t go because I had a presentation at work that I didn’t want to miss. It was horrible and selfish, and it ruined my relationship with Leslie. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, and I’m still trying to pick up the pieces. We aren’t perfect, but we learn, we grow, we move on.”

  “It’s different though. What was I supposed to say to you? Yeah, I almost got married. I had a different job, a house, a different life. I spent a year pretending, a year trying to make myself accept and love a life I didn’t want. How was I supposed to tell you that I spent a year trying to feel for a girl what I felt for you after five minutes?”

  Kate closed her eyes, his words echoing softly in her ears. She reached out and lay her hand gently on his forearm. “I would have understood,” she said.

  “It was so hard, so hard to be around you at first.” His voice was soft now, full of tenderness. “I just felt so dumb. Had I known what this felt like, what it was to be around someone like you, I never could have pretended with Ashley for so long.” He wrapped his hand around Kate’s and pulled himself across the step so they sat side by side, then turned his body so he was facing her. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I’m sorry you had to deal with Ashley this morning, sorry that I didn’t tell you about all of this before.”

  Kate leaned forward, resting her head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I’m just glad you’ve told me now,” she said.

  Andrew sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around Kate’s back, pulling her close.

  “How is she?” Kate asked after a few moments of silence.

  “Who? Ashley?” Andrew asked. “I guess she’s okay.”

  “That’s a long way to drive. What did she need? Closure, I guess?”

  “We never really talked after I ran,” he said, voice a little distant. “I called once, just after, to apologize and try to explain. But she didn’t really want to talk then. I tried one more time, and she wouldn’t even come to the phone. I didn’t see or speak to her again until yesterday.”

  “She said she’d called though. You didn’t answer her calls?” Kate asked, not wanting to sound accusatory but still trying to make sense of his actions.

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “She just started calling a couple of weeks ago. I should have answered, but to be perfectly honest, I was spending a lot of time thinking about you. I didn’t know how to handle it. I was going to call her. I knew we needed to talk. But before I could get up the nerve, she just showed up.”

  “But you’ve talked now,” Kate reasoned. “That’s good, right?”

  Andrew stifled a laugh. “Yeah,” he said sarcastically. “We talked. Or rather, she talked and I listened while she called me a self-centered jerk who broke her heart, ruined her life, ruined her wedding plans, and ruined all of her dreams of happiness. And let’s not forget her telling me that she hoped I never found happiness again.”

  “Ouch,” Kate said. “That had to hurt.”

  “Really, it’s just frustrating,” Andrew said. “The thing is, with Ashley, it wasn’t ever about me. It was about the dream. The perfect pictures, the four-layer wedding cake, the temple wedding . . . It was as if she were in love with the idea of me and the idea of wedded bliss. But I don’t know that I ever felt she was really in love with me, with who I am. I was just a player, a pawn in her great orchestration of happiness. I don’t know; it doesn’t really matter,” Andrew said. “She seems to have her closure now, I guess. I don’t want to think about her anymore.”

  Kate smiled. “I don’t really want you to think about her anymore either.” She leaned against his shoulder, feeling the soft exhale of his breath as it blew gently through her hair. It sent shivers up her spine, the light hair on her arms standing on end. He shifted, and she lifted her head off his shoulder, her face just inches from his.

  Andrew tucked a loose strand of Kate’s hair behind her ear and then cradled her face with his hands and tenderly kissed her. She had experienced a lot of first kisses but none quite as emotional as this. She nearly cried as her heart seemed to open and pull him close.

  It’s love, she thought. Three weeks and one first kiss later, and I’m fully persuaded. She had dated a lot of men, kissed a lot of them in the seven years she’d lived in Atlanta, but it had taken only one kiss to convince her that this was very, very different.

  Andrew pulled away, still holding her face in his hands. Then he leaned in again, kissing her forehead and the top of her head as he pulled her tightly against him. She pressed the side of her face against his shoulder, just below his collar bone, which seemed to be carved specifically for her.

  “We fit,” she said softly.

  Andrew smiled. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think we do.”

  Dusk settled around them. The sinking sun was quickly ushering in the chill of a May evening in the mountains.

  “Can you stay?” Kate asked, feeling the cool breeze cut through the thin fabric of her shirt. “Come in, and I’ll fix us something to eat. Then I’ll tell you what I learned about my family today.”

  “Cooking for me already?” Andrew teased.

  “Ha! Don’t get your hopes up,” Kate said as she stood up from the porch. “I claim nothing beyond mere adequacy when it comes to the kitchen.”

  “Maybe you should let me cook.” Andrew smiled, standing up as well. “We can have waffles or scrambled eggs or french toast . . .”

  “Wow. What do you eat when it isn’t breakfast time?” she said playfully, nudging Andrew as they moved to the front door.

  Andrew caught her arm and pulled her into him once more. She was drunk with the closeness of him, soaking in the lingering traces of his aftershave, the hint of clean laundry scent from his clothes, and the overlyin
g muskiness from a day’s work on his skin. “Cereal,” Andrew joked in response to Kate’s question. “And a lot of take-out.”

  “I can at least do better than cereal,” she assured him. She looked up, leaned in on her tiptoes, and kissed him again.

  Chapter 28

  Inside, Kate started to chop vegetables for a Bolognese sauce and set water for the pasta on the stove to boil. While she worked, she told Andrew about her trip to the library and the county museum, detailing the specific things she’d learned about her ancestors.

  “I really didn’t expect to find anything so positive,” she said. “From land donations to rent-free farming, that’s got to influence the board of commissioners.” Kate’s positive mood filled her with more optimism than she’d experienced since she first learned of the highway plan.

  “And the farmhouse itself should contribute nicely as well,” Andrew added. “Whoever did the expansions, remodeling, and modernizing took great pains not to disturb the integrity of the architecture. From the roof line to the wooden columns along the porch, it’s the kind of house any architectural history buff would love to see. The house even has its original siding, though it has been covered with something else. But the bones are still there, and it’s an old set of bones.”

  Kate listened to his words and thought about all of Aunt Mary and Uncle Grey’s efforts to take care of it. “I don’t want to lose this house, Andrew,” Kate said, overcome with emotion.

  “Don’t give up yet. You’ve got a good story. If we can get it all organized, I think you’ve got a good shot at beating the highway,” he said.

  “Thank you for your help with this,” she said. She truly meant it. She didn’t know where she would have been if Andrew hadn’t been willing to help, had he not conveniently turned out to be an architect. If it was coincidence, it was certainly remarkable. If it was fate or destiny that brought this all together, then Kate was grateful God was looking out for her.

  They kept talking as she continued preparing their meal. They talked about their families and their work, and Andrew told Kate a story about rolling bowling balls down Main Street that had Kate laughing so hard she cried. When dinner was over, their conversation eventually turned to their faith.

  Kate had just finished the Book of Mormon the evening before. Logically, she wanted to believe and accept the goodness the religion had to offer, but something was still holding her back. She feared what her family would say. She was convinced Linny and Leslie simply thought this was a passing phase, a response to Mary’s death and a broad search for meaning that, when no longer motivated by Andrew, would fizzle out and die a quick, painless death. She did not know how they would react when they realized how serious she was.

  She also struggled with guilt made worse when she contemplated the nature of her relationship with Andrew. It wasn’t something she could easily vocalize. Kate knew what the standards of the Mormon faith were—the sacredness of the marital relationship and the importance of abstinence before marriage. She didn’t know for a fact that Andrew was a virgin but felt reasonably safe, with her knowledge of his background, including his near-miss temple marriage, in assuming he probably was. If he and Kate wound up together, would he be bothered by the fact that she wasn’t? It wasn’t as if she’d been with a lot of men, but her life had been very different in Atlanta, and she had been single for a long time. It wasn’t something she was proud of. She wished desperately that she would have preserved her virtue for someone like Andrew. Was it too late for her carelessness to be forgiven?

  Her mind jumped back to the lesson she’d had with the missionaries regarding the law of chastity. She remembered the peace she’d felt when they’d discussed the redemptive process of baptism.

  “You will be clean, Kate,” Elder Christianson had said. “Your sins will be washed away in the waters of baptism as you covenant and promise to live according to God’s law.”

  The peace and assurance of his words crept slowly back into Kate’s heart. Yes, God could forgive her, and He would; but what about Andrew? Did he not deserve something better than she could offer? And then there was Leslie. Kate still wasn’t certain Leslie had fully forgiven her. She seemed happy when they were all together, but there was still something there, just under the surface, that made Kate uneasy. She shook her head, trying to chase away the fear and doubt that so quickly crept into her head and heart.

  “What are you thinking, Kate?” Andrew asked. “I can almost see the wheels spinning in your head.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” she quickly responded, though the slight edge in her voice indicated otherwise.

  “I don’t believe you for a second,” he said, rising from the table and carrying their plates to the sink. “What’s on your mind?”

  Kate sighed. “I was just thinking about forgiveness,” she said, unsure if she could actually vocalize the true source of her worries.

  “What about it?” Andrew asked. He returned to the table and sat down next to Kate.

  She shook her head. He seemed so innocent, so boyish in his desire to help make her feel better. Finally, she responded, “What if I don’t deserve it?”

  “Have you killed someone?” Andrew teased, his voice a hushed whisper.

  Kate looked up, shocked but smiling. “Just my last boyfriend,” she joked. “Of course I haven’t killed someone. But I’ve got a . . . a past, Andrew.” Once she began, it was difficult to stop her spur-of-the-moment confession. “I know what your standards are, and I haven’t been living them. I’ve been feeding a coffee addiction for nearly ten years. I know what vodka tastes like, I’ve been to night clubs, to bars, I’ve been with men I wasn’t in love with, wasn’t married to . . .” Kate’s face flooded with color. “I’ve made a lot of stupid choices I’m not proud of. How can I just go to church, pretend like all of that, all of who I was, doesn’t matter anymore? What if it does matter? And what if . . .” She hesitated. “What if it matters to you?”

  Andrew leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He sat silently for a few moments and looked at Kate. With his lips pursed, he shook his head. “You know what, Kate, it does matter. The coffee is the deal breaker for me . . .”

  He smiled that crooked half smile Kate loved, and she threw her napkin at him. “Andrew! I’m being serious!” she scolded, though she certainly felt relieved that he didn’t seem bothered by her revelation. Andrew’s face settled into a more serious repose. He still smiled but this time with tenderness and sincerity.

  “Kate, when you are baptized, your sins will all be washed away. The Lord has promised He will remember them no more. If the Lord will remember them no more, why should I remember them?” He reached for her hand across the table. “We’ve all got a past, and none of us is perfect. But we aren’t expected to walk through life plagued and burdened by our past decisions, no matter how poor they are.” Andrew paused, flinching slightly, and Kate knew he was thinking about his own decisions over the past couple of years. “Acceptance of the Atonement of the Savior is a hugely personal process,” he explained. “But for me, true understanding came when I first thought about the Savior willingly choosing to suffer, when He felt the pains and frustrations and fears of a mortal body as He entered the garden, knowing what He would have to do yet still praying to His Father in Heaven, pleading with Him: if there’s any other way, please let this cup pass from me. But there wasn’t another way, so He chose to suffer. He didn’t have to. Mortal in body only, He could have stopped. He could have stopped it all, the Crucifixion, the mocking and torment He endured. But He didn’t. He didn’t stop it because of me and because of you, because of all of us. I get overwhelmed every time I think about it.”

  Kate sat silently, mindlessly tracing the back of Andrew’s hand with her thumb as she thought about his words. She felt something different from what she was used to. It was a small but steady feeling, a growing confirmation that what Andrew had said was true. The Atonement could and would apply to her. She needed only to accept it
.

  “So now it’s my turn to ask you a question,” Andrew said, leaning his arms on the table.

  “Go for it,” Kate said.

  “Are you ever actually going back to Atlanta?”

  Good question, Kate thought. In all of her conversing with Andrew, Kate had not told him how seriously she had considered moving to Rose Creek permanently. She spoke of her job as if she were simply on temporary hiatus, and he never questioned her. He knew she’d left her job and life back in the city, but then, he also realized how fiercely she was fighting to keep the farmhouse. He must have wondered if she planned to make it home for good.

  “Actually, I’m not really sure I will go back,” she said. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Leslie, you know? She’s basically on her own now. I think I should be here for her.”

  “You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

  “I think I am,” she responded. “I don’t know. I don’t know what kind of work I would do here. Mr. Blanton has agreed to let me telecommute, but I have a feeling I’d still be spending a lot of time in the city. I’m not sure it would be worth it to live here if I were still making the drive back and forth all the time. I don’t know. I think I’d rather be here full time. But it’s scary to just up and leave a place, you know?”