“Best of the best.” She liked saying the words, and couldn’t help the small smile. “I’m proud of our product and our commitment to health. But I also care about our employees. We have excellent benefits and give every employee a free pass to Denver’s biggest fitness center.”
He smiled, and she was struck once more by the difference it made. He seemed like a friend, the kind she wished she had.
Calista nodded.
“Our main goal is to provide a safe place where people can fill their spiritual needs. But we also want to make sure the people have healthy food that gives them a good start to the day.”
He lifted a tray from the stack and handed it to her. “I don’t recommend the hash browns but the breakfast burritos aren’t too bad.”
“I like having a food guide.” A quick peek at the hash browns supported his opinion. They were soggy and limp. The metal serving dish was full, proving the rest of the cafeteria avoided them, too.
He moved down the line behind her, sliding his tray along the counter. “If that’s a job offer, I have to warn you that I have great benefits here. Unlimited overtime, my own coffee machine, a corner office with a wonderful view of the parking lot.”
Calista couldn’t help laughing as she spooned a bit of scrambled egg onto her tray. “Sounds like my job, except I have a view of the roof of the building next door. And lots of pigeons to keep me company.”
A short, wiry woman smiled at him as he reached for a biscuit. “Mr. Monohan, is good to see you having breakfast. You have to eat and keep strong.” Her softly curling hair was covered by a hairnet and she wore a brightly colored apron that was missing one large pocket in the front.
“Marisol, this is Calista Sheffield. She’s a new volunteer.”
Calista hoped the emotion that flickered over the lined face was curiosity, and not skepticism. “We can always use more of those, eh, Mr. Monohan?” The thick accent was a bit like Jose’s but more lyrical, as if she was more used to singing than speaking.
“We sure can. When are you going to cook me some of your arroz con pollo? I’ve been dreaming of it all week.”
Marisol beamed with pleasure. “Anytime, Mr. Monohan, anytime. You tell me and I cook you a big dinner. Maybe you bring a friend, too? How ’bout that nice Jennie girl?”
Calista studied the biscuit on her tray, wishing she couldn’t hear this conversation.
“Sadly, Mari, I don’t think there’s much future for us,” Grant said, sounding not at all sad about it.
“Oh, no.” She wagged her finger over the glass case at him. “You let her get away. I told you, she’s a nice girl and you work too much.” She seemed honestly grieved by this new development.
“You wouldn’t want me to be with the wrong girl, would you, Marisol? And she wasn’t right for me.” Calista glanced at him and could tell Grant was trying not to laugh, his lips quirked up on one side.
“But how you know that when you only see her once or twice? You work all the time and the girl decides you don’t like her. That’s what happened.” She was giving him a glare that any kid would recognize from the “mom look.”
“No, I made time for her. But it just didn’t work out.” He smiled, trying to convey his sincerity but Marisol was not budging. Finally, he sighed. “I don’t want to gossip, but I’ll tell you something she said.”
“Go ahead,” Marisol dared him, frowning. Calista couldn’t imagine how long it was going to take to convince this little Hispanic woman that Grant hadn’t done Jennie wrong.
“She said I was too religious.”
Calista felt her eyes widen, a perfect mirror to Marisol’s own expression. They both stared at Grant, disbelieving.
“Oh, Mr. Monohan. That’s bad. Very bad.” Her eyes were sad as she shrugged. “Because you don’t drink? Did you tell that girl your mama drink herself to death?”
“It wasn’t that. And I never told her about my mother.” His words were light, with no hint of anger. He could have told Marisol to zip it, but he looked more amused than anything.
“Well, good thing she’s gone. You tell me when you want me to cook. Maybe I bring my niece, that pretty one? She’s in college and wants to be a social worker!”
Calista bit back a laugh at how quickly Marisol had let go of Jennie as Grant’s future wife.
“Thanks, I will.” Grant nodded at Calista and she figured it was safe to move on.
They got glasses of orange juice and he chose a table near the entrance. As they settled on either side of the long table, he extended his hand to her, palm up.
She stared for a moment, uncomprehending, then remembered how her sister, Elaine, always held hands with her husband as they said grace before meals. It had made Calista uncomfortable a few years ago but she felt her heart warm in her chest now. She placed her hand in his and bowed her head. The steady strength of his fingers sent a thrill of joy through her. He spoke simple words of thanks and asked God’s blessing on their day.
He let go of her hand and she put it in her lap, feeling strangely lonely without the pressure of his hand.
“Did she really say you were too religious?”
“I wouldn’t lie about that,” Grant said, grinning. He paused, as if choosing his words. “And I’m sorry about Marisol. Too much information on your first day, right? But she doesn’t mean any harm. She thinks everyone will accept people for who they are, not holding the sins of their parents against them.”
Calista dropped her gaze to her tray. She’d worked hard to reinvent herself from a poor girl from a tiny Southern town, the one with a mean father and a dead mother, into a polished and beautiful businesswoman. But there was only so far you could run from yourself. Then it was all about facing your fears and being bigger than your past. She was ready to be what God intended her to be, no matter how crazy it seemed to everyone else.
Chapter Two
“You don’t seem very upset about losing your girlfriend.”
He took a sip of his orange juice and paused, a small line between his brows. “You know that moment, when you’re not sure exactly which way to go, when opposite choices are equally attractive?”
“Of course.” She hated that moment. The indecision nearly killed her.
“That was how I felt about Jennie. She was smart, caring, made good conversation. Everybody thought we’d be a great couple.”
Calista groaned and he raised his eyebrows in question. “Every time a friend tells me that I’d be great with someone, I know it’s doomed.” Jackie, her assistant, never tired of setting her up. It was always a disaster and Jackie always enjoyed the dramatic story the day after. Which made Calista wonder if she picked the men for her own amusement.
Grant laughed out loud and nodded. “Maybe I should have known, but my best friend, Eric, set us up. Well, he brought her in to volunteer and he knew we’d hit it off.”
Calista took a bite of her biscuit and chewed thoughtfully. Eric thought they’d hit it off because they were so alike, or because Grant went for pretty volunteers? The idea that she was sitting in a spot where twenty other girls had been made her heart sink.
“She’s an attorney and spends most of her time as a prosecutor for the city’s worst abuse cases. She also handles some family law, but mostly fights for the weakest of our residents. He knew I’d appreciate her passion for protecting vulnerable kids.”
The buttery biscuit turned to ashes in her mouth. Grant would certainly not appreciate her own passion for building a vitamin-water empire. There was nothing admirable about getting folks to pay a lot of money for something that didn’t really make them any healthier.
“And I really did—I mean, I do—think she does a great job. But we just didn’t seem to connect.” His voice tra
iled off and he took a bite of scrambled egg. “But I knew that before she told me I was too religious, so it only made it easier to leave it at being friends.”
Calista took a sip of her juice and pondered his words. Elaine told her once that if a man wasn’t in contact with any of his ex-girlfriends, then he was a bitter and spiteful person. So, maybe staying friends with Jennie was good.
“I’m just wondering...” She shook her head, trying to formulate her thoughts. He watched her, waiting. “Why did she say that? Was it something you did? Or said? I don’t want to pry, but it’s an odd comment. Don’t you think?”
He grinned at her and she felt her brain go fuzzy around the edges. “Not odd at all. Most people consider anything more than a passing gesture to be too much. Sunday service is okay. Giving up a big promotion because God is calling you in another direction is not. Saying a blessing before eating is fine. Praying for your future spouse is not.”
Calista paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Future spouse? What does that kind of prayer sound like, if I can ask?”
He shrugged a little. “Uh, I don’t usually focus on that, since I have bigger fish to fry. But let me think. I usually pray for her health and safety, for her to grow in God’s grace.”
Her fork was still poised above her tray. She hadn’t spent much time praying in the past ten years, but if she had, it wouldn’t have been for anyone else. It would have been for herself. Was there a man praying for her right now? One she’d never met, but who cared for her already? She dropped her gaze as the thought brought sudden tears to her eyes. Could she be loved and not even know it yet?
“That sounds weird to you,” he said lightly, but she heard the hint of something in his voice, maybe disappointment.
“No, not weird.” She looked up at him. “It’s beautiful. I’d never thought of it before, praying for your future spouse.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised.
“Really. I’m pretty new to this.” She waved a hand between their trays, meaning the blessing. He frowned, trying to understand. “Blessing your food, asking for direction in your life.”
He nodded. “How new? Like, today new?”
She laughed. “Not that new!”
He grinned back at her, his broad shoulders relaxing a little. She wished she could tell him that there were years of prayer behind her, that she was a seasoned Christian. But she was practically a newborn, trying to understand what God’s will was in her life.
“New enough.” She sighed. “It’s a long story but I grew up in a place that was less about the truth and more about what made a good show.”
His eyes were sad as he searched her face. “That could be anywhere. I think once pride gets center stage, God’s truth is hard to hear over the noise.”
She nodded, thinking it through. “You’re right. It’s probably a pretty common thing. But I let it get between me and God for a long time.”
“But not anymore.” Grant’s eyes were soft, his biscuit forgotten in his hand.
“No,” she said, unable to keep her smile from spreading as she gazed back. “Not anymore.”
* * *
Calista slipped out the mission’s door into the mid-November chill. She had been so nervous about volunteering that she had forgotten her coat and gloves in the car, but now she felt the wind whip through her expensive sweater. Tucking her hands in her pockets with a shiver, Calista glanced up at the snow-covered Rocky Mountains. It was hard enough to be homeless in the winter, but it was downright deadly in Denver.
She walked to the secure parking behind the mission, hardly noticing the people passing her on the sidewalk. Her mind was full to bursting and she struggled to squelch the feelings Grant brought to the surface. She’d told Lissa the truth; she was way too busy to date and it never worked out anyway. No guy wanted to be known as “Calista Sheffield’s boyfriend” instead of by his own name. There were very few men her age who earned more than her or had more power. The ones who were eager to take on the role were only interested in the boost it gave their own business reputations.
Her mind flashed back to Grant’s face, his appraising glance. He hadn’t seemed interested in her job so he probably didn’t care. That would be a good thing. Her life had become so consumed by her success that she had let her soul wither away. She felt as if she was just a husk, dried up and empty inside. Where there should be something vibrant, something connected to God, there was a pitifully weak, underfed shadow.
But she was ready to change, to let God call the shots for a while. She wanted to feel joy, like the look on Grant’s face when the little girl had practically tackled him with her hug. She pressed the button on her key ring and her Mercedes beeped in response. Sliding into the leather seat and reaching for the buckle, Calista felt her whole self yearn for purpose in her life. Her God was a God of second chances so she didn’t have to wallow around in her sad and lonely life.
Now, if she could just get everybody else to give her a second chance at being a decent human being, then she’d be all set.
Her cell phone trilled in her pocket. And she answered it automatically.
“I’m sending you the report on the new building sites and you have four urgent messages.” The voice on the phone belonged to Jackie, her personal assistant, who sounded calm and collected as usual. She rattled off the messages in rapid-fire.
Calista tucked the cell phone into her shoulder and turned onto the freeway. “Tell Jim Bishop that Branchout Corporation’s new commercial is encroaching on the VitaWow brand and we need to send them a cease and desist letter. Also, get Alicia down to tech support and make them promise not to wipe the hard drive on my laptop ever again. They said they were cleaning it, but all my temporary files disappeared into thin air.” She could hear Jackie typing at a frantic pace.
“How was the appointment?”
“What appointment?” Calista asked, before remembering that she’d told Jackie she had a toothache and was going to the dentist. “Right. The dentist was great. All fixed.”
The sound of Jackie’s laughter made Calista glare at the freeway in front of her.
“This is why I have complete faith in VitaWow’s CEO. You can’t tell a lie to save your life.”
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
“You never forget details, but more importantly, nobody ever says their dental appointment was great.”
Calista let out a sigh. “Fine. I wasn’t at the dentist. But I’ll tell you about it later. This traffic is just crazy in the afternoon.” Cars were slowing to a crawl in front of her. “Good thing I’m always at the office until late. I completely miss rush hour.”
“Are you using your headset?” Jackie asked suddenly.
Calista already had one ticket for cell use while driving. “I was, but I dropped it when I got out of the car and it shattered.”
“New headset,” Jackie mumbled into Calista’s ear as she typed another note. “Okay, I’m hanging up now because it would be extra bad for the company image if you racked up another ticket.”
“All right,” Calista said. “See you on Monday.”
Jackie snorted. “And talk to you tomorrow, you mean. You don’t take weekends off. Which means I don’t, either.”
She frowned, easing into another lane of slow-moving traffic. “Well, that might have been true before. But I’m determined to make it a priority to enjoy some free time. I don’t want to wake up at eighty and realize I worked my life away.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that. How surprising.”
“Realizing your only friends are people who get paid to talk to you will do that to a girl.”
Jackie laughed and her infectious giggle made Calista grin long-distance. “I thought it was your biological clock ticking away.”
“I’m not that old! I just need to expand my horizons,” she said huffily. But the thought had crossed her mind, right about the time her sister, Elaine, had given birth and Calista had seen the pictures of all her friends gathered to meet the new baby. Calista wanted a family, but she wanted the whole picture. She wanted the faith that brought fullness to life, and the friends to experience it all with her.
“And I mean it about the weekends. I might pop into the office on Saturdays but no more Sunday work. I want to get a real life.”
“Hey, as a card-carrying member of your current life, I don’t appreciate you getting a new one unless I’m in it. But this is sounding stranger and stranger.” Jackie’s voice was still light, but Calista knew her words concealed real worry. And she had cause to be worried because Calista had made no secret of how her hypocritical father had ruined her life.
“It’s a long story.”
“Then Monday it is, and be careful driving in that traffic,” Jackie said, sounding uncharacteristically maternal before she hung up.
Calista focused on the road in front of her and tried not to think of the horror stories she had told Jackie. None of them had been exaggerated.
Her father had been the most respected man in their dusty, Southern town, but he ruled their little house like a dictator. He acted loving and gentle in front of their church family, but told his own family when to eat, sleep and pray.
The blaze that burned her house to the ground and took her mama’s life told her for certain that God couldn’t be trusted. So, she would have to make her own way in the world, without His help. Her choices were either go to college or settle down with Ray Collier, the football coach’s son. Ray was a good guy, but he would never have been happy with her. She had too many opinions, and didn’t like football. Her sophomore year in college she heard he’d married Tina Bowdy, a pretty girl whose father owned the gas station. She hoped they were a lot happier than she had been the past fifteen years. But her unhappiness was her own fault. There was ambition, and then there was insanity.
Season of Joy Page 3