Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

by Pamela S. Meyers

  “You can write out your work and Laura can use your father’s typewriter.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “I can already hear her complaining.”

  “It’s the least she can do for having left her case on the steps. And she’ll do it without pay.” Mom stood. “Let’s see if we can get you up. Moving will do more good for those muscles than lying here.”

  The phone rang and Jack cringed. If anyone else was sick… He lifted the earpiece. “Jack Wallace.”

  “Son? I just called the house and got no answer. Thought you must have gone to work—” A sharp cough ended his father’s greeting.

  “Oscar had a ruptured appendix, and I’m suddenly the temporary editor. What did the doctor say?”

  Silence filled the connection, and Jack hit the switch hook. “Hello? Hello?”

  “I’m still here. Is Oscar okay?”

  “Yes, but he’s out for a couple months. You have good news for me?”

  “Wish I did. I…have TB.”

  Jack tensed. He’d feared cancer, but TB was just as bad. Dad could be sent away to a sanitarium. Maybe the doctor was wrong.

  “Jack, you there?”

  He wiped the sweat off his free hand onto his pants. “Don’t you need a second opinion?”

  “I got one yesterday. I’m leaving for Colorado the day after tomorrow.”

  “Colorado?” Jack surveyed the piles on Oscar’s desk. The guys in Composing would soon fire up the Linotype and need direction. His calendar showed a lunch appointment with the mayor and, tomorrow, breakfast with the rec building’s contractor. His chest tightened. He should be heading to Chicago.

  “There’s a wonderful sanitarium in Colorado Springs. The mountain air does wonders, and most patients return home within six months to a year. Your mother can even stay in a guest residence on the property.”

  Jack drummed his fingers on the desk. He’d been ready to throttle Lester for walking out on his dad’s paper. He wasn’t about to do the same to his own father. “I need to decide how, Dad, but I’ll be in Chicago by tomorrow.”

  “Oscar needs you worse than me. I’ve got Will Snow, the managing editor, primed and ready. I left everything in order. Will’s a good man.”

  Jack’s thoughts spun. He couldn’t accomplish his plan while stuck in Lake Geneva. “How can you turn the Beacon over to me as we planned unless I get some time working there instead of here?”

  “I intend to return. I’m not going to let a little thing like TB—” The sound of his covering the mouthpiece muted a sharp cough.

  Jack swallowed back the vinegar-like taste in his mouth. So what if Snow was a good man? The Beacon had to stay in the family, to go to Kate like she wanted. Yet he couldn’t leave Oscar in the lurch. He had to trust God.

  Sunday couldn’t come soon enough to hear what Reverend Hellman had to say about acknowledging God in all one’s ways. Maybe he took personal appointments? Did Jack even have time for another meeting?

  “I’ll call from Colorado. I’ve hired a driver to take us in the Buick. That way your mother will have the means to get around.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of her catching TB from you?”

  “She hasn’t yet.” The connection went quiet. “But you should get yourself tested. I was coughing up a storm the last time you were here.”

  “I will as soon as I find a minute.”

  “Mr. Wallace, you got work for Gus and me?”

  Jack faced Leo Kelly, the other Linotype operator.

  Leo studied his shoes. “Sorry. Didn’t notice you were on the phone.”

  “I need to go, Dad. I’ll pray for you. Keep me posted, or have Mom call me.” He hung up and stood. “Okay, Leo, let’s get the show on the road.”

  “This is not how I expected to spend Saturday.” Laura hit a key on Dad’s typewriter and shot Meg a hard stare.

  “Nor did I.” Meg squirmed in an attempt to find a comfortable position on the dining room chair. “Maybe you should have thought of that when you left your clarinet case on the stairs. It won’t kill you to type two handwritten pages.”

  “Why do you get so excited about who visited whom or what child had a birthday? Who reads this?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Ever since Mom had informed Laura that she was to type Meg’s work, the girl had complained. Meg wanted to turn her sister over her knee.

  Laura huffed and began typing.

  With the sound of the typewriter keys smacking the platen, Meg stood and moved to the window. Across the street, Mrs. Branigan kneeled in front of her flower bed, her fleshy arms jiggling as she turned over the dirt with a trowel. Was it warm enough to go without a sweater? Three days inside had Meg feeling like a caged animal. A walk to the lake later might help.

  “This scribble of yours is atrocious, Meg. I don’t know how you expect me to read it.”

  She stepped over to the table. “Recital. Edna O’Leary’s students will be giving a piano recital on Monday.”

  The telephone rang. Relieved to escape, Meg went to answer it.

  Jack’s bright “Hello” lifted her spirits. “So how’s ‘Town Talk’ coming with your assistant?”

  “Don’t ever hire her. She has a terrible attitude. Not that she’d ever apply for a job. I think I’ve heard a dozen times how boring it must be.”

  Jack chuckled. “Still think you’ll come in for a while on Monday? Thelma says she plans to be here. Maybe she can help with your typing or we can call one of the other typists.”

  “Anything would be better than my grumpy sister. I’ll see you at eight on Monday.”

  “Not at church tomorrow?”

  Staying home, she’d lost track of the days. “I’ll have to see how I feel.”

  “Physically or spiritually?”

  How could he see into her heart so easily? “Physically, of course.”

  “A walk by the lake with a pretty companion suits me. What do you say?”

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach. “How soon?”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  A short time later, Meg greeted Jack at the door, unable to stifle a grin. “You’re a minute early.”

  “Caught the light when it was green. You sound in better spirits than you did on the phone.”

  “Knowing I’m going outside for a bit is better than medicine.” She took him into the dining room.

  Laura had her back to them, still pounding the typewriter. “I’m almost done, and I hope this is the last. I don’t even read this stuff if I read the paper.”

  Jack chuckled. “Sorry you feel that way about our content, Laura.”

  She jerked around, a smile pasted on her face. “Jack. I didn’t hear you come in. I was only kidding.”

  Meg chose to ignore the comment. “We need to proof your work before we can say you’re done.”

  Laura rolled her eyes. “You mean, if you find mistakes I need to start over?”

  “Maybe. Let me see it.” Meg held out her free hand.

  “This better be okay.” Laura pulled a pout and wheeled the paper out of the machine. “I have homework.”

  Meg read through each line. Like everything else she tackled, Laura was a good typist. “I only see a missed period at the end of a sentence. We can pencil that in for Composing.” She handed it to Jack. “You want to double-check it?”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ve seen enough copy this past week to last until Monday.” He pulled out his wallet. “Laura, let me pay you for your work.”

  Laura gave Meg a smug look as she held out her hand.

  “She’s not supposed to be paid, Jack. Typing for me was an agreement between Mom and Laura in payment for something else.”

  Jack’s eyes ricocheted between Laura’s outstretched palm and Meg. He put his wallet away.

  Ignoring Laura’s glare, Meg went to the front hall. “Do I need a wrap?” At that point she’d take a walk to the city dump over listening to more of Laura’s complaints.

  “I’d bring one,” J
ack said. “It might be cooler next to the water.”

  As they headed down Warren Street, Jack walked beside Meg, carrying her coat. “Does Laura always have such an attitude?”

  “My sister has been insolent since the day she came to live with us.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Meg’s step lightened. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” She glanced at Jack. Not seeing him beside her, she turned.

  He stood several paces back, staring at her as if she’d sprouted an extra head. “Is Laura adopted?”

  She frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  He caught up to her. “You said she came to live with your family. I take it to mean she’s adopted.”

  She drew in her lower lip. “I said that?”

  “Yes.”

  She must have. Was she losing her mind? “She doesn’t know.”

  They came to Main Street, and Jack took her elbow. “Maybe she suspects she is and that’s the reason for her attitude.” They crossed to the park and strolled between the budding trees. “How old was she when she joined the family?”

  “Six months. Her parents died in a car crash.”

  “And how old were you?”

  “Almost seven. Mom and Dad left the house one morning and were gone most of the day while my grandmother stayed with me. When they returned, Mom had Laura in her arms and announced that she was my new sister.” A chill ran down Meg’s spine as memories flowed into her thoughts.

  “When is she leaving, Momma?” Meg asked after three days of watching her parents dote on Laura as if she’d been dropped by special delivery from heaven. If Momma wasn’t diapering or feeding the little charmer, Daddy was walking her in the straw baby buggy that came with her, stopping for the neighbors to chuck the baby’s chin. By the fourth night, Meg stood before the bathroom mirror wondering if laundry bleach would make her brown, straight hair blond and wavy.

  She’d only managed to bleach her bangs and was unplaiting her braids when Momma’s curdling scream interrupted her.

  “You had no warning of Laura’s coming?”

  Meg pulled herself out of her recollection. “Not one hint. At first, I thought she was the answer to my prayers for a brother or sister, but I hadn’t realized that another child meant sharing my parents. When I turned ten, I told Mom it felt like they’d found a prettier daughter to replace me. Even though she assured me that their hearts had room enough to love both of us, I didn’t believe her. Now I know better, but Dad still favors Laura. She gets away with murder.”

  Jack gestured toward a bench. “Want to sit?”

  Meg sank onto the hard seat, suddenly feeling naked for having admitted so much. What must he think? She blinked her watery eyes.

  He settled beside her. “Most kids think their siblings get away with murder. My sister always thought I got away with stuff because I was a boy, and I watched my dad practically eat out of her hand because she was a girl. Maybe most of what you felt was misperceived.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “The warm breeze sure feels good, doesn’t it?”

  She faced him. “Warm? I was just thinking about how chilly it’s gotten.”

  He held her coat open. “We’d better get this on you.”

  With Jack’s assistance, Meg pushed her free arm into the coat sleeve. After he arranged the other half of the wrap over her sling, he fastened the top button, his fingertips grazing her skin and setting off a swarm of tingles racing down her spine.

  Jack gave his handiwork a look of satisfaction then raised his gaze to her mouth.

  An ache to feel his kiss pressed against her breastbone. He inched closer, and her world closed in. She lifted her chin and her eyes slid shut, anticipating his lips touching hers.

  “My dad is on his way to Colorado.”

  Her eyes popped open. He’d settled against the bench, facing the lake. Certain her burning cheeks must be as red as her lipstick, she averted her gaze. What must he think of her, begging for a kiss in broad daylight?

  “The doctor must have given him a good bill of health,” she said. “Is he going there on business?”

  His lips settled into a tight line as he stared ahead. Several moments passed before he faced her. “He has tuberculosis. He’s on his way to a sanitarium.”

  Biting her lower lip, she looked away. Had she been so focused on her own problems that she’d not noticed the sorrow in his eyes? She turned back and lifted her good hand to touch his arm but withdrew it before making contact. “Jack, I’m so sorry. Why are you here? Don’t you need to be helping at the Beacon?”

  He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the grass. “I can’t. Oscar’s laid up and no one else can take over. Besides, Dad’s already trained the managing editor to step in.”

  “And Lester left you in the lurch.” Heat filled her stomach. She wanted to go and find Lester and give him a piece of her mind.

  “Don’t get mad at Les. His mom needs him now as much as Oscar. What’s more, he’s been caught between pleasing his dad and what he’s really cut out to do.” Jack straightened and draped his arm across the back of the bench.

  “And what is he cut out to do?”

  “Not newspaper reporting, as much as Oscar would like it.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Funny, I’m aching to get to the Beacon and help my dad, but he doesn’t seem to want me there. Meanwhile, Oscar wants to hand the News-Trib over to Lester, but Lester doesn’t want it.”

  She wanted to comfort him with a hug but instead studied the shimmering lake. Hugging would only give him the wrong idea.

  Funny how they both had father problems. She a dad who didn’t think she could be a reporter, and Jack a dad who didn’t seem to think he could run the family business.

  Would Dad ever be proud of her like he was of her sister? Everything Meg wasn’t, Laura was. Smart, pretty, talented… Seemed that way with most people in her life. Dad favored Laura, Matthew favored tall, willowy Betty Watkins, and Jack favored Ginny.

  “Dare I ask a penny for your thoughts?”

  Meg’s face warmed, and she turned to him.

  Jack held out a penny.

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Keep it. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular.”

  “Judging by the expression on your face for the past several minutes, you’ve got a lot more on your mind than a broken arm or a troublesome little sister.”

  Meg let her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Nothing you care to hear about.”

  He cupped her good shoulder with his hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “Try me.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. How was a girl supposed to carry on a decent conversation when the guy beside her kept causing her stomach to dip and flutter when she didn’t want it to—or did she?

  He nudged her shoulder and tugged her closer. “Is it the move?”

  She straightened and put some space between them. She was falling for this man, and if she knew better, she’d head for California even if she had to hitchhike. “The move isn’t firm as yet. We’re still working out the logistics.”

  “Well, I have another question for you, then.”

  She tensed. “Okay.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Meg nearly jumped. That was the last thing she’d expected him to ask. She ached to say there was no one, but she needed to keep her distance. Twisting to look him in the eyes, she nearly crumpled at his lopsided grin. “There has been someone special, but we’re, um, taking a break right now.” Not exactly a lie, was it?

  His smile slackened as a large cumulus cloud covered the sun.

  Goose bumps rose on Meg’s neck.

  “It’s getting chilly. We’d better get you back home.” Jack pushed to his feet, and she took his proffered hand as she stood. He kept hold as they walked. Even through her gloves, the sensation of their touching palms caused a fluttery feeling in her stomach.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The
last thing she needed was for word to get out that she was holding hands in the park with the lady-killer reporter. If Emily heard, Meg would never hear the last of it. But then, if Ginny happened by, it would be deliciously wonderful. Meg’s spirits sagged. For a moment there she’d managed to forget about Miss New York Times. Ginny was probably busy this afternoon, or he’d have been with her.

  “After all this craziness calms down, I’d like to take you out for dinner. Would you be interested?”

  Her breath caught. “You mean as a date?”

  “Yeah. I presume I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes, since you and that other fella are taking a break from each other. Or did I misunderstand?”

  She looked up at him. “You understood right.”

  He flashed her another breathtaking grin. “Good. Then the answer is yes to a nice evening over dinner. And, just so you know, there’s no work talk allowed.”

  A bubble of joy filled her chest. They came to the crosswalk, and he gave her hand a squeeze before cupping her elbow. “I don’t know what I would have done without your support this past week, Meg. You’ve been a good sport, taking on all that work despite your broken arm.”

  A prick of disappointment burst the bubble. Was the dinner invitation a gesture of thanks for being a good sport? But if he only thought of her as a chum, would he hold her hand or make sure that she was available? They reached the far curb, and he took her hand again. She should pull her hand away. She was entering dangerous territory. As if reading her thoughts, he tightened his grip. She’d let herself enjoy the sensations for a few minutes more.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jack pointed the Ford toward the Elgin Club. A quick glance in the rearview mirror told him he still wore the same smile that had plastered itself onto his face since Meg had agreed to a dinner date. Before that, he’d managed to catch himself before he kissed her. But after finding out that she wasn’t officially seeing anyone, it was all he could do not to plant one on those pretty lips right then and there. So much for not getting involved with a woman. He’d fallen for a lot of girls over the years, but Meg was different than the others. A special kind of different.