Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

by Pamela S. Meyers

  “I’m going upstairs now to work things out with God. Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

  Chapter Forty

  When Meg reached the top of the stairs and saw Laura’s light glowing beneath her door, she fought the urge to knock and tell her that she knew everything. But she’d promised Dad she wouldn’t say a word, and besides, she had unfinished business with God to take care of.

  She slipped on her nightgown then climbed into bed and lifted the Bible from where Helen had left it on the nightstand. Hugging the book to her chest, she closed her eyes. “God, I’ve no right to come before You without saying I’m really sorry for not trusting You. I’ve been very wrong and selfish about a lot of things. Please help me get back into Your Word and learn to fully trust You for my life.”

  She flipped open the Bible and found Proverbs 3:5–6. She hadn’t studied the passage since that long ago Sunday when Jack happened upon her in the park. She read the words. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

  For as long as Meg could remember, she thought her father believed her old teacher’s words. The way he had tried to block her desire to advance in newswriting seemed to prove it. How wonderful to know she was wrong. And after Jack told her what his college professor said about other people having similar struggles, she’d realized it wasn’t her fault—it was the way she was made.

  She flipped to Psalm 139 and read the familiar words to herself. God had made her exactly as He wanted her to be, fearfully and wonderfully made. Made to write, for sure, but how and where? Even Mr. Zimmer had softened lately. Helen’s words from earlier in the evening echoed in her thoughts. Had God really answered her prayers by sending Jack into her life? Before he came, the only writing she’d done was on the sly, but now she didn’t have to hide it. She pressed her palm to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Lord.”

  She threw the covers off and knelt beside her bed. “Father, forgive me for not trusting You or depending on You. You do know what’s best for me. All the time I thought You weren’t answering my prayers, You were. I’ve been so selfish.

  “I admit that I was very jealous tonight. Help me to not jump to conclusions about the girl he was with until I know the truth. If Jack and I are meant to be together, I’ll let You work it out. I do love him, Lord. I only hope I love him enough to let him go, if You say it’s not to be.”

  She finished her prayer and crawled under the covers. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. Since it was deadline day, she’d probably have to wait until evening for a private conversation with Jack. She closed her eyes. By this time tomorrow night she’d either be the happiest she’d been in a long while or the saddest. But either way she’d be at peace for the first time in ages.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Meg stepped through the office door a little past seven the next morning and stared at Jack’s clean desktop. Usually on deadline day he was there by six thirty. Maybe he was in Mr. Zimmer’s office doing the layout. She scurried across the room, her heels click-clacking on the wood floor, and peeked into Mr. Zimmer’s office.

  Her boss looked up and blinked. “Miss Alden, don’t tell me you’ve come early to give me another letter. I’ve still got the other one right here and don’t need another unless it’s to say you’ve changed your mind.”

  Her heart squeezed at his words. How many times had Jack said that Mr. Zimmer loved her like a daughter? “No letter, but I was looking for Jack.”

  A grin split his face. “I keep hoping he’ll convince you to stay even when I can’t. Didn’t he tell you he’s taking a couple days off? How could I say no after all the hours he’s put in, keeping this rag afloat? You too. I know you worked hard, same as him. Purvis starts today, so we can handle it.”

  Meg’s thoughts darted into a world of doubt. Why hadn’t he told her he was taking a couple of days off? Was Jack with that girl? “Jack worked far harder than me. I guess he forgot to mention his plans for today. What I wanted can wait.”

  “Well, in the meantime, I could use some help while I get Mr. Purvis started. Do you mind doing some fillers to put in ‘Town Talk’?”

  She stepped into his office. “I’d be happy to.” She took the folder he held out.

  “Good. Get them to Composing after they’re proofed. We’ll get this paper out on time without Jack. He deserves some time off.”

  Meg frowned. Waiting a couple of days wouldn’t be easy, but with her new attitude, she’d manage to take each day as it came and trust God.

  On Thursday morning Jack arrived at the office, excited to finally see Meg. He hadn’t caught a glimpse of her since that day on his pier. He should have called her when he found he wasn’t going to be in the office, but after their last discussion, he’d thought putting some distance between them might be helpful.

  His eyes went straight to her desk, and his heart skipped a beat. Dark wavy curls, cherry-red lips, tan suit concealing the curves he found so appealing… He approached and came to a halt in front of her desk. “Morning, Meg.”

  She looked up. “Hi, Jack.”

  “Sorry I kind of disappeared on you for a few days. Unexpected company.” He waited for her to ask who his company was, but she didn’t. “There’s an exclusive unveiling of the Riviera ballroom this morning for the press and city council. Care to go with me?”

  She glanced away, and he followed the trail of her gaze to Mr. Purvis, the fill-in reporter. His sleeves rolled up, revealing hairy forearms, and his jaw looking like he forgot to shave that morning, the man seemed as if he’d be more at home reporting on the doings in the Bowery. “What about him?” Meg asked. “He’s the reporter.”

  The man could care less about the Riviera. He’d said so himself during his interview last week. “He doesn’t have your background knowledge. Besides, it will add strength to the piece you’re going to do about the event.”

  “What piece? I—”

  Jack held up a hand to stop her. “Oscar approved it. Nothing on the sly. Your angle is the society side, but it can be more than a report of who came with whom.”

  “Mr. Zimmer approved?”

  He loved telling her good news. “As long as yours is from a society point of view.” He glanced at the clock. “We need to leave at ten fifteen.” He ambled back to Oscar’s office, which was his for the morning, and closed the door behind him.

  Instead of sitting, he wandered to the window and looked out at the new mortuary being readied across the alley. Oscar would have an interesting view when funerals began over there. He supposed he deserved the lackluster greeting from Meg, given they were a couple and he’d not shared his plans with her. But if she missed him at all, wouldn’t she at least have something to say about his lack of communication?

  Was it time to begin thinking seriously about moving on to the Beacon? The problem was that by doing so, he’d push Mr. Snow out of the way. Was running the paper something Snow aspired to? Had his hopes soared at being given the opportunity? Jack turned and stepped over to the desk. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  Two hours later, Jack smiled at how Meg matched his stride as they set off down Main Street. He enjoyed how her hat rested on the back of her head with her brown curls spilling out around it. It suited her. “Still making arrangements for your big move?”

  “Yes, but we’re playing things by ear as to the exact date. Helen’s mom’s health has worsened. Helen’s worried about her, but her mother insists we go and follow our dreams. She does have a friend moving in to take Helen’s place in the shop, so she won’t be alone.”

  Jack’s spirits lifted. Not that he’d wish a woman bad health, but if it delayed Meg’s departure even a couple of weeks, he wouldn’t mind. It might help him get back into her good graces.

  Meg lifted her eyes to meet his. “I guess this is where trusting God has to prove itself, doesn’t it?”

  He gave a half smile. “You’re right about that.” Some
times he wished he could do something to help God along, like call that guy at the Examiner and strongly suggest he give Meg’s job to someone else.

  They turned south at the intersection and continued down the east side of Broad. Meg stopped when they came to the Geneva Hotel. “Doesn’t the Riviera look stunning?”

  Across the road, the sand-colored building with its terra-cotta-tiled roof looked as if it had always been there. The architect had outdone himself. Stunning wasn’t the word. Maybe magnificent. He couldn’t even remember the building it replaced, so insignificant it must have been.

  They crossed over, and Meg picked up her pace as though she were a child racing to get the last piece of candy.

  The closer they came, the more Jack’s insides trembled at the excitement of finally seeing the interior. Of course, half of his enthusiasm was because of Meg’s joy. She’d not said much about attending dances at the old building. Had she and Matthew spent time there? Was she a good dancer? He hoped to find out come Monday night.

  They arrived at the same cement steps he and Meg had raced up that long-ago Sunday. At the top of the staircase, a red-and-green-striped awning had been added to shield ticket buyers from the elements. Men’s voices drifted toward them from behind, so he turned. Mayor Taggart and several aldermen approached.

  The mayor grinned. “Glad to see the News-Trib here. I know you’ll write glowing reports about this place.” He kept his eyes on Jack, ignoring Meg.

  “We both will.” Jack stuck out his hand. “Good to see you again, Mayor. You know Meg Alden, one of our writers?” He pressed the small of Meg’s back with his palm.

  The man focused on Meg for the first time. “Yes. Of course.” He turned to his companions. “Shall we go on in?” He gestured for Jack and Meg to lead the way.

  Jack’s mouth fell open as he stepped inside and let his gaze rove from the white columns surrounding the dance floor to the promenade behind them. Other than the green-tinted walls that coordinated with the blue-green-and-tan tiles in the promenade floor, everything else was in shades of white or cream. He expected a line of chorus girls from a Busby Berkeley movie set to parade onto the floor at any moment.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Meg gave a twirl as she wandered to the center of the parquet dance floor, her skirt whirling out and giving a glimpse of lace before it resettled around her legs. She paused beneath the mirror ball that hung dead center from the tiled ceiling. It twinkled in the sunlight that streamed through the roof’s clerestory windows. He fought the urge to join Meg for a spin around the floor. Not exactly the proper decorum for a newsman, even in a small town.

  She wandered to one of the black table-and-chairs on the promenade and ran a hand over a chair back.

  Jack joined her. “I had no idea it would be this marvelous. The windows let in wonderful light. Too bad the effect will be lost at night.”

  “But think how the lights will play off the mirror ball. It’s going to twinkle like the stars.” Meg sighed. “Guess we’d better take some notes.”

  They simultaneously pulled out notebooks and burst out laughing. Meg’s eyes twinkled as much as the mirror ball. Her point of view would be so much better than his. Too bad he couldn’t step out of the project altogether. “I have an idea. I’ll write from the male point of view, and you take the lady’s.”

  “That’s perfect,” they said together, and Meg giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Meg’s father strolled up, an uncharacteristic wide grin broadening his face.

  “Dad, when did you get here?” She scooted up to him and hooked her hand through his arm. Whoa. What had happened since he’d last seen them?

  Mr. Alden patted Meg’s hand. “A minute ago. I hope that whatever is so funny has nothing to do with the decorating.”

  “Not at all, sir.” Jack stepped forward and offered his hand. “We both said the same thing about an article for this beautiful place.”

  Mr. Alden’s eyes lit up. “Did you see the terrace at the south wall? Great place for dancers to cool off and view the lake.”

  Following his suggestion, they headed toward an arched door next to an expanse of windows and stepped onto the veranda. Jack strolled to the waist-high wall. The lake shimmered in the morning sun, while a private yacht bobbed at the white dock below.

  Meg joined him. “I don’t know if I can find enough words to describe this place.”

  He leaned an arm on the wall, careful to not get his sleeve entangled with the wrought-iron trim, and fixed his gaze on her eyes. Who cared about lake views with beauty right beside him? “You will. I can’t help but notice that your father seems so…” He scrambled for the right word and came up empty.

  “Changed? He’s been like that since Laura and I buried our hatchet. Jack, the tension has left our home. He and I talked about a lot of things. And I had a long talk with God and realized how wrong I’ve been not to trust Him. In fact, I wanted to tell you—”

  “Meg, Jack, you’d better get in here.” Mr. Alden stood at the door leading inside.

  “Coming, Dad.” Her face a wonderful shade of pink, Meg pushed off from the ledge. “Shall we go inside?”

  He followed her to the door. Odd… She seemed to be embarrassed about something. But what? They stepped into the ballroom. A cluster of people stood around the man hired to manage the facility.

  “We expect Mr. King and his orchestra to arrive at the Geneva Hotel about midmorning on Monday,” the tall bald man said. “The mayor will greet them, and after they’ve checked in, they’ll come across the street here to practice.”

  “How will they get from the train depot to the hotel?” a reporter from Janesville asked.

  “The orchestra has its own tour bus. They won’t be taking the train.” He scanned the crowd. “Any more questions?”

  “What other bands have you booked for the summer?” Jack held his pencil over his pad.

  “Several, including Tommy Dorsey in July. The full schedule will be released within the next two weeks.”

  Meg stood on tiptoe and whispered to Jack, “I can’t wait to hear Tommy—”

  “You won’t be here.”

  “Oh. That’s right.” She stuffed her pad into her handbag and gave him a tight smile.

  The meeting drew to a quick close. After saying good-bye to Meg’s father, they took the back stairs to the lower level and strolled through the first-floor concourse running from the front of the building to the back, where it opened out onto the docks. Behind one counter, a workman scrubbed a griddle. Two other men installed a popcorn machine at the counter next to him.

  “I almost hate to go back to the office. Is there any chance we could get lunch somewhere?” she said as they walked.

  Jack jammed his hands into his pockets. “Isn’t it kind of early for lunch?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose so, but we haven’t talked in several days.”

  “I know. But I have to leave. Mom’s coming in from Colorado on the train, and I have to meet her.”

  Her eyes widened. “She’s coming for sure, for the grand opening? Maybe after she settles in at the house, you and I could chat a bit.”

  He lifted his fedora and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m meeting her in Chicago at that train station. We’re going to spend the weekend at our house in Lake Forest. We have lots to discuss regarding my dad and the Beacon. If I get a chance, I’ll give you a call and we can talk on the phone.”

  They’d arrived in front of the office, and he paused by his car, taking her hand. He hated seeing the disappointment that had registered on her face ever since he’d mentioned heading into Chicago. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss her right there, but he had to think of her reputation. On an empty pier with no one around was one thing, but on Main Street? He gave her hand a squeeze and let go. “See you Monday.”

  She smiled up at him. “I can’t wait to meet your mom. Please give her my best.” She turned and walked toward the door. He took a step in her direction. One brotherly kiss
on the cheek wouldn’t hurt. Movement in the window caught his eye. He waved at Emily, and she ducked out of sight. Jack turned and got into his car. He waved at Meg then watched her step inside. Something was bothering her. He could only hope it wasn’t him.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Meg glanced over her shoulder. “Come on, Helen. I need to be in the ballroom before the crowds arrive.” Her friend had stopped to study a coming-attraction poster on the Geneva Theatre’s wall. Helen’s scarlet-red halter dress, a copy of a Jean Harlow frock from a recent movie, fit her like a second skin. Other than Harlow herself, Meg couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing the dress.

  Helen laughed. “We’re a half hour ahead of when Jack asked you to arrive and only five minutes away.” She twirled toward Meg, her white-gold hair glistening in the late afternoon sun. Her skirt’s sheer fabric swished and lifted above her ankles to give a hint of her slender legs. Legs Meg would trade her more muscular ones for any day.

  They stopped at the intersection to wait for the light, and Helen looked Meg over with a satisfied smile. “I’m glad I convinced you to order that dress. It looks like it was tailor-made.”

  Meg fingered the ruffled trim of her chiffon print frock then lifted an edge of the skirt and let the breeze catch it. She’d hesitated to order the dress since, even from Sears Roebuck, it cost almost a week’s pay. But she had to admit, she loved how pretty it made her feel. Would the gown knock Jack’s socks off like Helen said? What would it matter? She’d only talked to him once since last Saturday, when he called from Lake Forest to say that he and his mom were having a good visit and he wouldn’t be coming back to town until Monday morning, the day of the grand opening. Well, tonight she would keep her dance card open only for him and get him alone as soon as possible.

  A car passed in front of them, and Helen stepped back from the curb. “Meg, can we talk a minute before we go in?”