Million Dollar Dilemma

by Judy Baer

  “Just an assignment I took on. It’s turning into an entire series of articles,” Adam said vaguely before jumping to his feet. “By the way, I bought some Godiva ice cream. Interested?”

  Weak willed and famished, I took the bait. Yum.

  My answering machine was flashing when I got back to my apartment. I rarely pick up the phone anymore unless I recognize the name on the caller ID. This was one I hadn’t seen for a few days. Randy. I punched in his number and waited for him to answer.

  “Hi, this is Randy. May I help you?”

  “I don’t know. You called me.”

  “Cassia?” His voice brightened. “How are you? I’ve missed you around the old workhouse. Did you ever get a new car?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Really? I thought…with the money and all…well, it’s none of my business.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I was wondering if you were ready for coffee with an old workmate yet.”

  I hate being suspicious—and lonesome—so I followed my gut. “What did you have in mind?”

  “A coffee shop somewhere? Tomorrow after work? I’ll drive you. I don’t want to be responsible for causing that car’s last gasp of breath before dying.”

  After we hung up, I sat on the couch stroking Winslow and thinking about the people in my life I know for certain I can trust.

  Mattie and Jane, of course, my parents—but they are far away. The other winners, I suppose, who don’t need more money—except poor Bob, who is now probably even more sorry than I that we won. There is Ken, who has his own money and isn’t interested in material things unless there’s a picture of a hunting dog engraved on it.

  And Adam. It feels so easy and right to trust Adam. He never demands anything of me, yet is always there for me when I need him. It’s almost as if he reads my mind sometimes. Occasionally he acts a little strange when I start talking about the money, but who wouldn’t? He’s also very protective of Winslow, who would be bumped off by Pepto if the cat ever got the chance, a hundred and some pounds difference in weight notwithstanding. For the moment, that’s it. I have to tread carefully. Now that I’ve accepted God’s assignment, still murky and undefined as it might be, I have to do all I can to carry out His will. Part of that is not allowing into my circle any deceivers who might steer me in the wrong direction.

  CHAPTER 20

  Randy was waiting for me at the coffee shop on the corner two blocks from my apartment. I saw him through the window and stopped just out of his line of sight to study him.

  His height is similar to Ken’s, but that’s where the resemblance stops. Ken is brash, Randy is shy. Ken is forward and confident, Randy is often tentative and unsure. In both cases, I’m glad Ken and Randy know and respect my feelings about sexual intimacy. Ken knows I’m a virgin and accepts it as, he says, part of my “charm.” He has high regard for my standards and I really believe he likes me better for it. Despite his “good old boy” bluster, Ken is a man of principles and faith.

  Randy’s sweetness attracted me to him in my first days at Parker Bennett Manufacturing, and once I discovered he was a Christian, it made our relationship so much better. In other times and on other terms, perhaps Randy and I…

  The kind of man I want in my life is steady, solid and daring, all in one package. Someone who, while able to balance inequities, can see problems and fix them. Someone who can’t be easily swayed by circumstance.

  I looked at Randy again and felt a yearning in my chest. Sweet Randy…and Adam.

  But I’m very aware of the importance of not being “unequally yoked.” Grandpa sometimes said, tongue in cheek, that a Christian marrying a non-Christian was a little like “hooking up a cow and a cornstalk and hoping they’ll pull in the same direction.”

  It’s disheartening to think of it that way, but I’m an optimist and refuse to lose hope. Just because Adam has misplaced his faith for the time being, it doesn’t mean he’ll never find it again. How thrilling and satisfying it would be to be a part of his coming back to the Lord.

  But for now, Adam isn’t showing much interest. I shook myself like a wet dog and headed toward the coffee-shop door, disgusted with myself for having developed the equivalent of a grade-school crush on my neighbor.

  “Puppy love,” I muttered as I went to greet Randy. “Just puppy love.”

  It didn’t occur to me until later that Winslow had been a puppy once and he’d completely taken over my life and my heart.

  Randy jumped to his feet so quickly that his chair tipped backward and nearly toppled to the floor. He tried to grab it and greet me at the same time.

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Good as can be expected for a poor little rich girl.” As I sat down across from him, he pushed toward me a cookie the size of a Frisbee dotted with chunks of chocolate and macadamia nuts.

  “I hope we’re sharing this thing.”

  “If you want. What can I get you to drink?”

  It took some moments of awkward juggling on Randy’s part to get the beverages. It took some time, too, for either of us to think of something more to say. While I feel comfortable with Randy, I don’t really know him. A twinge of suspicion raced through my nervous system and I doused it with a swig of cappuccino. I can’t go through the rest of my life paranoid. Then I’d be like Paula, and that just won’t do.

  Cricket kept me up-to-date on Paula’s current obsessions. Paula had decided that if something so wonderful could happen to her, then the reverse could be equally true.

  “She’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Cricket told me. “If something amazing and completely unexpected can happen one day, then what about the next? She’s jumpy as butter on a hot pan, Cassia. Paula has never trusted the world, and now it’s even more uncertain. Since something so good happened, she’s now waiting for the bad that will balance it out. I think she’s more anxious than ever.”

  No, Paula was not who I wanted to be.

  “Cassia.” Randy nervously turned the coffee mug in tiny circles. “I need to say something to you and I don’t want you to take it wrong.” He hesitated. “Although I’m not sure there is actually a way for you to take it right.”

  I tipped my head to one side and listened.

  “Much as I’ve been trying, I can’t quit thinking about you. I’m not a forward kind of guy. When I meet someone I really like, it takes me a while to get up the nerve to say it out loud. Well, I like you. A lot. I knew it from the first day you came to Parker Bennett and so did you, I think.” He blushed until his skin was darker than the roots of his sandy hair. “I still want to get to know you better.”

  He looked at me with stricken eyes. “But now I know that no matter what I do or say, you’ll wonder if I’m telling the truth or if I just want to get closer to all that money. I still have to say this, Cassia. I do like you. I may even love you.”

  Oh, what a mess this money is making of my life.

  “Wa…well…oh, my…” I’m always at my most brilliant verbally under such conditions.

  “I just wanted to say it, Cassia. You don’t need to respond. I’m not expecting anything from you.” His hair flopped over one eye and I had an urge to brush it away from his forehead.

  His skin felt warm and he stared at me, startled by my touch.

  “You’re right, Randy. Things aren’t the same as when I couldn’t afford anything but baling wire, duct tape and chewing gum to keep my car together. I still have the same car, but everything else has changed. God’s got me in a headlock here, Randy. He’s calling all the shots and I’m glad to let Him do it. That doesn’t just mean about the money, but personal things, as well. Relationships. The future. Everything.”

  “I’m the king of bad timing.” He looked so despondent that it was almost comical. Ken was never downcast, and although I’m sure Adam has some very dark times, he doesn’t show them so fully in his features. Randy’s thoughts and emotions spread all the way from his head to his toes.

  I put m
y hand on his arm. “You’re my friend.”

  “That’s a start.”

  Pretty soon I’ll have to install a revolving door in my apartment to facilitate these men coming and going in my life. Ken wants to marry me, Randy wants a relationship and, though I’m just beginning to admit it, even to myself, I think I’m falling in love with Adam. And that’s the poorest choice of all, considering we don’t share the same beliefs. It’s either feast or famine in the men department for me.

  “So what exactly does ‘friends’ mean?” Stella asked the next day. Once she’d finished grilling me about Randy she started an inquisition about Adam. Cricket, who doesn’t have the ability to turn into an ice princess, looked pleased for me.

  It feels good to be with these, my…if not soul mates…money mates. We meet for lunch every few days to debrief and download. It’s good to hear how my friends are managing.

  “Friends friends. Coffee and conversation. An occasional movie. Shopping. Renting a video and making popcorn…”

  “Wait a minute. At your house?”

  “I suppose. Where else do you watch a video?” I eyed her speculatively. “Why?”

  “Sounds a little too friendly to me.” Stella stirred her iced tea and dumped another packet of low-calorie sweetener into the brew. She was wearing a pale blue cashmere sweater and white pants. On her feet were either Manolo Blahnik or Jimmy Choo sandals that revealed her exquisitely painted toenails. The nails were the same blue as her sweater and had a tiny white motif painted on each one. There was a minuscule pearl somehow attached to the design on the nail of her big toe. Stella obviously didn’t plan to go hiking any time soon. She also wore diamond earrings that looked too large to be real but were anyway—diamonds so large that in the right light they could start bonfires.

  “Stella, you’ve never trusted men. Don’t tell me it’s gotten worse.”

  She pulled a card from the front of her purse and handed it to me.

  Confidential and Accurate

  Helen Cross, Private Investigator

  Contact at 888-555-1212

  I stared at the business card until Cricket grabbed it from my hand and gasped, “You aren’t actually checking men out before you date them, are you?”

  Stella raised a cool eyebrow.

  That eyebrow thing is a move I envy. When I was younger I often tried to do that, but managed only to make myself look as if I suffered from serious and inoperable tics.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Poor Cricket’s face crumpled. When Stella was called away to the telephone, Cricket leaned closer and said, “I know she’s probably right, but I enjoy the attention I’m getting from guys. No matter what I do to myself, I’ll never look as good as Stella does right out of the shower. I might as well take advantage of the opportunities I have.”

  “The only thing that needs improving is your self-esteem. You look perfectly wonderful, Cricket.” And I meant it. Her dark curly hair, upturned nose and the extra pounds she refers to as “baby fat” make her about as cozy and appealing as a human can be.

  Cricket leaned close to me with an air of confidentiality. “So how is it for you? With guys, I mean. And intimacy?” She flushed so red she looked as though her cheeks had been painted on with crayon. “Like do you…” She held up her hands helplessly, as if she couldn’t find the words.

  “Do we kiss, hug, make love, you mean?” I smiled at her gently, hoping to ease her discomfort. “I’m a virgin, Cricket.”

  The cheeks I thought couldn’t get any redder did. “You don’t have to tell me….”

  “Actually, I want to. You aren’t the only one who’s wondered how we Christians manage that.”

  “So…” She urged me on.

  “I’m—all Christians—are created the same way as anyone else, Cricket. We’re built with natural desires. Not being intimate is a choice Christians make. No one ‘forces’ us. We save intimacy for marriage because we want to.” My friend looked so puzzled that I wanted to smile. “And we want to because it’s what God wants for us.”

  “And He wants it for you because…” Cricket was intent on our conversation.

  “Because He designed us. He put us here on earth and gave us the ability to love. And He gave us a sequence for getting the most out of that love. Marriage and intimacy are the ultimate steps in His divine sequence.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Cricket admitted.

  “Just that intimacy should be the culmination of the sequence of meeting, getting acquainted, falling in love and marrying. He’s right, you know. How many couples rush into intimacy before they know enough about each other, and the relationship fails? How many devalue one of the most loving, giving acts a couple can have together?”

  “When you put it that way…” Cricket mused.

  “Besides, as my grandmother Mattie puts it, it’s ‘a gift you can only give once.’”

  Cricket grinned. “Now I get it.” She paused and her brow furrowed. “It makes sense.”

  Curiosity satisfied, Cricket picked up the other conversation just where we’d left off. “Frankly, I think Stella is getting a little weird about the security thing. You and Thelma have the right idea, actually,” Cricket concluded.

  “What’s that?”

  “Thelma went out and bought a new side-by-side refrigerator freezer, a minivan and a treadmill. She says she wouldn’t have bought the treadmill, but she feels obligated to stay healthy and live long enough to enjoy putting her grandchildren through college. She’s putting the rest away for a rainy day.”

  It would have to be a very rainy day for Thelma to use up all her money. I had visions of Noah and his ark floating by her own personal floodworthy yacht.

  Cricket looked around to see if Stella was returning before she whispered, “What are you going to do about the men in your life, Cassia? I don’t want to live my life with mistrust and suspicion.”

  “Ken, back in Simms, has already got all the money he needs. Adam, my neighbor, doesn’t seem the least bit interested in my money. And Randy and I are just friends. Besides, I plan to give it away as soon as I can figure out how. So far not only has it been difficult to find the right place for it, but it keeps multiplying. It’s driving me nuts!”

  “Well,” Cricket said, reaching for a handful of goldfish crackers from the bowl on the table, “we’re a fine threesome. Instead of Larry, Moe and Curly, we’re Chary, Woe and Surly. This crazy lottery has made us into a very wealthy version of the Three Stooges.”

  When Stella returned, we got down to the business of eating lunch. Stella ordered the vegetable plate, no dressing. Cricket ordered a side salad and a cup of broth. I ordered a large cheeseburger, fries, a mug of hot chocolate, fried mushrooms for an appetizer and a piece of Death by Fudge cake for dessert.

  “I’ve heard that expression that a person can’t be too rich or too thin, but I don’t agree,” I told them as they stared at me. “I’m already too rich. No use losing weight, too.”

  We had almost finished eating when Stella choked on her final radish. Her eyes grew big and she stared at the door of the restaurant. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Who?” Cricket and I chimed in unison.

  “Is that incredible, handsome, breathtaking man who’s walking toward the table the guy you had at lottery headquarters?”

  “Now, there’s a man I’d willingly go out with, investigated or not,” Cricket said.

  I turned to look at this vision of manliness who had my friends melting and saw Adam striding across the room.

  He reached us and put his hand on my shoulder. “I just picked up Winslow. He smells like a perfumery and looks like an overstuffed poodle with blue bows in his hair. You’ve got to find another dog groomer, Cassia. Winslow and I had a talk. He’s beginning to question his masculinity. Are you ready to go?”

  Adam, who had taken Winslow for a trim and bath, pulled up a chair and straddled it backward. I felt more than saw Stella shift from her normal ice-princess mode to watc
hful, demure but sensuous hunter. Man hunter. I knew a girl in high school who could morph from a normal human into a flirtatious creature when the opposite sex appeared. She could also bat her eyelashes and emit a megawatt smile that could lead a ship through fog. It had fascinated me then, and it fascinated me now.

  Adam, however, was oblivious to Stella’s flirtation.

  He has a way of keeping people at bay when he chooses. When he lets his guard down, he shows his funny, charming and even playful side. Then something happens—as if a thought or reminder of something bad hits him—and he disappears, leaving only a shadow of himself in his place. When that happens, he grows distant and quiet, as though something is breaking inside him. Adam can build a barrier around himself with the speed of light. Stella didn’t even have a chance.

  But Adam was all there again as we walked back to the building—it was I who was in a bit of a fog. And without my quite knowing how it came about, we arranged that Adam would come over to my apartment at five that evening for a supper of burgers, salad and the homemade pie my grandmother and sister had dropped off last night.

  “How many dishes does it take to cook a burger?” Adam asked after dinner, holding a dish towel and eyeing the growing rack of clean dishes.

  “Too many. Let’s sit down and watch a movie.”

  Adam took one end of the couch and I the other. Then Winslow, jealous for “his” spot on the couch—the one in which I was sitting—started nudging me over with his nose. When he’d managed to edge me to midcouch, he scrambled aboard, packing us like three large sardines in a very small tin.

  As the movie played, Winslow yawned and stretched, cramming me more tightly into Adam’s side until I curled comfortably into the crook of his arm. Relaxed, I drifted in a drowsy haze as I heard Adam switch off the DVD player and begin to channel surf. The last thing I remembered as I fell asleep was his hand gently stroking my hair.

  I awoke gradually, in tiny increments, experiencing pins and needles prickling in my sleeping foot, hearing Winslow’s snuffly snore and feeling Adam’s hand in my hair, winding a curly strand around his finger.