Jo and Mrs. Stokes were in the kitchen when he knocked on the door.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Stokes said. “Is this the new Renny Jacobson?”
“New and improved,” he answered, smiling.
“Coffee?” Jo asked.
“Thanks. My first cup cooled before I finished it.”
Jo went to the counter and poured him a fresh cup. “I thought you were going to the office?”
“It can wait. I had some other business to take care of this morning.”
“Oh?”
“I went to confessional in my kitchen.”
“What?”
“In reading the Sermon on the Mount, I realized some of the creative ways I’ve sinned.”
Jo nodded. “That makes sense, but don’t say any more. Those times are confidential between you and Jesus, your High Priest.” Setting the cup in front of him, she asked, “What’s on for today?”
“Since I’ve done the serious work already, would you like to play tennis this morning?”
“Sure. Are there courts nearby?”
“It’s about a mile. We need to go early so we won’t have to wait in line.”
“Do you have an extra racquet?”
“I’ll let you use my good one.”
“Don’t give me an unfair advantage.”
“Let me fix you a good breakfast, Renny,” Mrs. Stokes said. “You may need extra energy.”
The tennis courts were past their prime. The green paint had faded through in spots, and the concrete was pocked with several small dips where moisture had undermined the surface. Jo had a smooth stroke, but Renny was able to hold his own. The first set was tied at five when Renny broke Jo’s service to take a one-game lead. Confident of victory, Renny served for the set, but Jo unleashed a succession of crosscourt backhands that left Renny gasping as the shots eluded him.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” he panted after failing to run down a shot to the back corner. “You can always tell a real tennis player from a hacker like me by the way they hit those ground strokes.”
Jo wiped the perspiration from her forehead with a towel. “You’re not a hacker. Remember, you gave me the best racquet.”
“Where did you learn to play tennis?”
“I played on my high school team. One of the other girls was a nationally ranked junior, and all of us who played with her improved.”
Jo broke Renny’s serve and won the tiebreaker five to two. Her last shot was a lob over Renny’s head as he charged the net. He watched the shot fall a couple of inches inside the baseline, and he sat down in the middle of the court.
“I thought Christians were supposed to be merciful.”
“I was merciful. I could have run you around for a few more points.”
They stopped at the video store on the way back to the house and rented Anne of Green Gables.
“We can watch it this afternoon before I take you to dinner,” Renny said. “It’s already too hot to do anything else outside.”
“I can fix you some popcorn. It’s one of my specialties. Mrs. Stokes offered me some the other night.”
“I didn’t know Mrs. Stokes had any secret sins,” Renny said.
“Oh yes, she even melts real butter and pours it on top.”
Renny turned into the driveway. “Have you decided if you can stay through tomorrow? I’d really like to take you to St. Catherine’s.”
Jo hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, even though you hit that last ball over my head.”
Jo laughed. “OK, I’ll call the travel agency and my friend who agreed to cover my shift at the hospital.”
Mrs. Stokes would be gone all afternoon visiting a friend who lived near the UNC-Charlotte campus. After cleaning up, Renny went downstairs and mentally replayed a few points of the tennis game in his mind until Jo, her dark hair wet from the shower, came into the kitchen.
“I called the travel agency and changed my flight to 5:35 tomorrow afternoon,” she said.
“Did you talk to your friend about taking your shift at the hospital?”
“Yes, she was glad to do it. She’s bought a new car and needs extra money.”
“Great.”
“And, most important, I found some popcorn in the pantry.”
Popcorn in hand, Jo followed Renny upstairs to his apartment. Brandy greeted them at the door.
“She’s not used to a lot of company up here. She likes you, but she didn’t tolerate my friend Morris until he started bringing her a bone every time he came over to watch a ball game.”
Renny gave her a tour of his dwelling. She stopped in front of a collection of pictures from Renny’s childhood.
Pointing to a shot of Renny as a small boy sitting beside a sandcastle complete with a tower almost as tall as he was, she asked, “Was this taken at Pawley’s Island?”
“No, that was on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We often vacationed on Okracoke, a barrier island with miles of deserted beaches. My parents liked it, but I wanted to go to Myrtle Beach because it was more fun for kids.”
“Did you build the sandcastle all by yourself?”
“I imagine I did. There wasn’t much else to do, and my father was not the castle-building type.”
“What about this picture, the one with the golf club?” Jo asked. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen. I look like David Duval with the sunglasses, don’t I?”
“Uh, maybe a shorter version.”
Renny ignored the dig. “That was at my father’s country club in Charleston, the same course where he had his heart attack. We played a round of golf, and I shot a hole in one on a par three. My moment of glory. I still carry the ball in my golf bag for good luck.”
In the lower left-hand corner of the frame a gap-toothed Renny with short hair and a plaid shirt buttoned up all the way to his chin looked out with childlike innocence. “And this one? It looks like a school picture.”
“That’s my absolute worst ever picture. First grade.”
“I think it’s adorable,” Jo replied.
“I didn’t have an older brother to help me along the way, so it took me a while to learn how to dress for elementary school success. Come on, we’ll watch the movie in the living room.”
Jo loved the film. From the opening scene in which Matthew Cuthbert picked up Anne from the train station and drove her in a horse-drawn buggy to Green Gables through the flower-bedecked avenue, until the Titanic-like incident when Anne floated down the river lying in the bottom of a leaky rowboat while quoting Tennyson, Jo was riveted to the screen.
Renny paused the picture. “Popcorn time.”
Jo hopped up and went to the kitchen. “Do you have a popcorn popper?”
Renny opened a cabinet door under the cooktop and handed her a stainless steel pan with a lid. “I have some oil in the cupboard next to the sink.” In a couple of minutes the kernels were playing a staccato beat around the inside of the pot.
“I memorized The Highway Man,” Jo said, referring to a poem recited by Anne in the film. “I would have thought it was impossible, but once I got started, the story carried me along.”
“I memorized twelve lines of Rudyard Kipling’s Gunga Din in the fifth grade,” Renny said.
“You’re a better man that I am, Gunga Din,” Jo responded.
“That line was repeated enough to let me catch my breath. If I ever own an elephant, I’ll name him Gunga.”
Jo laughed. “Good planning. It would be embarrassing to buy an elephant at the pet store and not have a name selected to put on the collar.”
Jo melted the butter in a small pan and poured it over the steaming white kernels. Taking a whiff, she said, “That’s the way God intended popcorn, the perfect snack.”
With the popcorn bowl between them on an end table between the sofa and chair, they resumed their seats.
“Do I remind you of Gilbert Blythe, Anne’s suitor?” Renny asked before restarting the tape.
“Y
ou mean when he teased her about her red hair and she broke a slate tablet over his head?”
Turning sideways, Renny said, “No, my profile.”
“Not as a boy. Maybe as a man,” she answered.
“Hmm, is that good?”
“Yes, it’s good.”
Jo cried quietly when Matthew Cuthbert suffered a heart attack in a field and died in Anne’s arms.
“That was different than the book,” she said as her sniffles subsided and the film credits scrolled across the screen. “In the book, Matthew died on the steps of the house when he learned they’d lost their life savings in a bank failure.”
“What did you think about Matthew’s dying words when Anne apologized for not being a boy who could help on the farm?” Renny asked. “You know, the way he said, ‘You’re all I ever wanted, Anne.’”
“Quit it, Renny, you’re trying to make me cry again.”
“OK, OK. I thought it was a good scene.”
The popcorn bowl was empty except for a few unpopped kernels rolling around in the bottom.
“Good popcorn,” Renny said, “but don’t eat anything else. I am going to take you to a nice restaurant tonight and don’t want you to ruin your appetite.”
“I need to go downstairs and get ready,” Jo said.
“Our reservations are for seven-thirty.”
“I’ll see you later, then. I enjoyed the movie.”
“Me, too.”
Renny opened the door for her and, leaning against the doorframe, watched Jo without an e descend the stairs.
The two men sat across from each other, a speakerphone between them in the middle of the polished walnut table.
“Do we have any other questions?” the heavily accented voice on the phone asked.
“Yes. Is the rate of return the same on all transactions?” one of the men responded.
“Always 100 percent.”
“Payable within sixty days?”
“Yes.”
The two men nodded to each other across the table.
“All right. We will make a trial investment.”
“How much?”
“We’ll start modest. Seventy-five million.”
“Excellent. I’ll give you the account information.”
After the phone connection ended, one of the men asked, “What about security?”
“I’ve contacted some local people. They have access to information within the organization and can let us know if anything goes amiss.”
“I hope this isn’t a rat hole.”
“Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
19
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.
SONG OF SOLOMON 1:2, KJV
Jo frowned as she zipped up the low back of the peach-colored dress. Although not immodest by most standards, the dress was the most revealing gown in her wardrobe. She liked to wear it with a double strand of pearls that gracefully looped around her neck. Now, she second-guessed her choice.
She stood in front of a full-length mirror in the bathroom. There was nothing artificial or contrived about her appearance. No Hollywood starlet, Jo possessed an intangible beauty, the same beauty Leonardo da Vinci captured when he painted the Mona Lisa and revealed to all the world a woman’s most important physical characteristic—her countenance. Like her young Italian counterpart, Jo’s countenance revealed the same qualities of poise and inner peace, coupled with a hint of mystery.
If Renny asked her to marry him, what would she say? She searched for direction in the eyes that faced her in the mirror. Nothing gave her the answer. However, she saw something else, a depth, a spiritual reservoir within her spirit, a source of strength that she knew would sustain her. But, in answer to her question. Nothing.
“Lord, why do you always seem to talk to me about something different than what is on my mind?” she asked softly.
“My ways are not your ways, and my thoughts are not your thoughts.”
She could see that. She would have to accept it. But she still needed to know what to do.
Trying not to become frustrated or anxious, she continued to wait. Then, after several moments, understanding dawned. She already had the answer. The living Presence within her would provide the wellspring of wisdom for responding to Renny. All she need do was draw upon the infinite resources of God’s grace. His grace is sufficient for any situation or circumstance. Confidence returned to her face. Rearranging the pearls, she straightened her shoulders and walked down the hallway toward her future.
The Clairmont was a yuppie bistro known for steak and lobster. Renny had reserved a table for two, and the maître d’ led them to the quietest corner of the busy restaurant. When they were seated, a voice behind Renny’s left shoulder said loudly, “I recommend the cheese fries and a bowl of chili.”
Turning in his chair, Renny said, “Jo, this is my friend Morris Hogan.”
Morris bowed and shook Jo’s hand. “Some people call me Hulk, you know, after the professional wrestler.”
“What do you like to be called?” Jo asked.
“I’d answer to any name you chose. Renny usually calls me Mr. Hogan.”
“Right, Hulk,” Renny responded. “Be careful or I’ll throw you into the turnbuckle.”
“What?” Jo asked.
“Wrestling term,” Morris said.
“Jo is not a big fan of the professional wrestling circuit, Morris,” Renny said. “She’s not up to speed on NASCAR either.”
“Stay in town a few days, and I’ll teach you everything you need to know about the WCW and NASCAR,” Morris offered.
“I’m sure you’d be a great teacher,” Jo said with a smile.
“And she could teach you a few things about tennis,” Renny added. “She has a backhand that could run Earnhardt into the wall of turn number three at Talledega.”
Morris glanced over his shoulder. “I wish I could pull up a chair and join you, but I’m supposed to be entertaining a couple of boring guys from Los Angeles. It’s nice meeting you,” he said to Jo. “Renny, I’ll see you in the ring on Monday.”
After Morris left, Jo said, “I can see you two spending an entire lunch hour trading one-liners.”
“That’s pretty accurate. Morris has a job with one of the megabanks. We get together regularly and compare notes from our respective cubicles. He’s the one who gave me the Duke cap you wore yesterday.”
“Next time you talk to him, tell him he has too much personality to be a brainy guy from Duke.”
“If I tell him that, his head will swell so much he’ll have to buy the biggest Duke hat they make.”
They both ordered steak. After the waiter brought their salads, Renny said, “Let me pray.”
Jo, a little wide-eyed, nodded.
Bowing his head, Renny said, “Thank you,” paused, “thank you,” paused longer, and said more softly, “thank you. Amen.”
“Amen,” Jo said.
“Short prayer, huh?” Renny asked. “Did it work?”
“I’m sure there is no more blessed food within a hundred miles.”
The meal was perfect; the conversation relaxed and fun. They finished eating and ordered coffee. The conversation waned.
Leaning forward with his eyes shining, Renny said, “Jo, I want to tell you something.”
Jo put down her coffee cup.
Without taking his eyes from Jo’s face, Renny began, “I think you are the most wonderful, beautiful person, inside and out, I’ve ever met.”
Everything in the restaurant faded, and they became a universe of two.
Speaking gently but confidently, he continued, “I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. We’re not perfect people, especially me, but I believe we’re perfect for each other.”
The previous day, Jo resented the internal upheaval caused by George Manor’s prediction. Now she appreciated the preparation his warning had given her. She was not caught off guard. Drawing from her well, she found the grace to an
swer.
“Renny, there is a big part of my heart that wants to say yes, but I know we are not ready to take this step.”
As the first flicker of disappointment crossed Renny’s face, she reached across the table, and took his hand firmly in hers. Remembering what Daisy Stokes told her, she said, “I want to encourage what is happening between us, but if we are going to join our lives together, we need a solid foundation. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks.”
“It’s been a great two weeks,” Renny countered.
“I know, but we need to go deeper before we build a home together. God’s doing things in our lives that take time.”
“What sort of things? I promise I would learn to enjoy Michigan cooking,” Renny said with a weak grin.
“It’s not about barbecue or bagels, and I wish I could be more specific. All I know is that we’re not ready to come together as husband and wife.”
When she said “husband and wife,” chills ran through Renny.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too, but not yet.” She squeezed his hand and let go.
Hope renewed, Renny signaled the waiter and asked for the check.
They pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. “Do you want to come up and look at some more of my baby pictures?” Renny asked as they walked toward the door.
Jo laughed. “Clever maneuver. I enjoyed the ones you showed me this afternoon, but I think I’ll go on inside.”
“What if I cued up your favorite scene from Anne of Green Gables?”
“Equally clever, but not tonight. What time do I need to be ready in the morning?”
“About a quarter till ten. The church isn’t far from here.”
Jo reached for the door knob, then turned. “I don’t want you to regret anything you said tonight, OK?”
“I don’t.”
Renny moved close. Jo lifted her face to his and looked into his eyes. He gently held her shoulders as their lips met.
It was a full kiss, sensual without being overbearing, intimate without being intrusive. Neither held back, their wills sacrificing every ounce of individuality on the altar of oneness. It was a kiss completely satisfying in itself.
Renny pulled back and opened his eyes. Jo met his gaze. “I love you,” he said, then put his finger on her lips before she could respond. “Good night.”
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