Pressure. Quentin didn’t need it. Other people relying on him made him nervous. He didn’t want anyone depending on him, didn’t want to have to risk failing—letting them down.
“Things will be fine.” He tried to assure his friend as well as himself. “I promise.” If only he could be so sure. Business had been thriving three short months ago. Then he’d invested in new equipment, and now lost the third straight bid. Loans had to be paid, insurance, salaries. At this rate his business could go under before lunch.
“I have to get back to these plans, Russ.”
Russ nodded but seemed reluctant to walk out the door. “Is that the new project you’re thinking about?”
“Yes, but you can understand if I don’t want to talk about it until it’s firmed up. By the way, how’s Janice?”
Shrugging, Russ gave a half-hearted smile. “She’ll be OK, I guess.” But he didn’t look very convincing, nor did he sound as if he believed his own words. Was Janice sick? Is that why Russ seemed so upset and edgy lately?
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Of course Quentin knew there was, but maybe this was the opening to get Russ to talk about whatever was wrong.
Avoiding eye contact, Russ said, “Look, I’ve got to get back to work.”
Certain now that something was really wrong at the Miller household, Quentin frowned. “OK. Check out Integrity for me, but don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Maybe it was better not to push the issue right now. But he made a mental note to bring up the subject again. Soon.
“Russ,” he called out before his friend disappeared down the hall. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Yeah, sure.” Russ’s muttered response left Quentin more puzzled than before. Whatever was bothering his friend, Russ wasn’t about to spill it anytime soon.
Be with him, Lord. Help him through whatever the trouble is with his family.
“Quent?” Russ stuck his head through the doorway again. “You’ve got a phone call on line one. Louise says it’s Amy Welsh.”
Amy. He surprised even himself at how excited he was over the prospect of speaking with her again so soon. Maybe she changed her mind about Friday night. Only Russ’s presence kept him from snatching the phone.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Even though he snarled good-naturedly, he realized it was the wrong thing to do. A cloud seemed to wash over Russ’s demeanor as he backed out the door.
Angry at himself, he buzzed the secretary before taking the call. “Louise, next time I have a call, tell me yourself.”
“Amy, hi.” He hoped his lousy mood didn’t shine through in his tone.
“Bad day?”
So he’d failed. But just hearing the concern in her voice lifted his spirits.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work.” Her voice broke through the silence. “I’ll make it quick.”
“No, don’t worry. I’m glad for the diversion.” Then a thought struck him. Shayna. He tried not to panic. “Is something wrong with Shayna?”
“No, no. She’s fine. I don’t even see her until the last class period of the day.”
That was good then, he thought. But what wasn’t good was the fact that he’d thought of Amy before he’d thought of his daughter. That rankled. His daughter was first in his life and always would be. No, he mentally corrected himself. God was. By putting the Lord first, he would do right by his daughter and put nothing and no one but God before her.
“So what’s up then?” He held his breath, hoping she’d changed her mind and was now willing to see him Friday.
“I just had an interesting conversation with Miki Loretta. She’s the drama teacher. She told me about this whiz kid who designs and builds sets for all the plays.” He could hear the excitement in her voice, imagine the smile playing on her face.
“I thought maybe you could use him with your youth group since you said you needed someone to design the time machine.”
He really did need help designing the set. Not the structure of it, but the visuals, the murals, the desert scenes. The kids in the group were anxious to help pound nails and paint, but none of them—including himself—could draw worth a fig.
“Sure Amy. Who is it? I’ll give him a call.” He owed her big for this. He’d try again to talk her into going out on Friday.
“Bradley Baxter.”
He wasn’t prepared for her answer and his response was an immediate, deliberate growl. “No way.”
“But Quentin—”
“No. No way. I’m not calling that kid for anything.”
“But Quentin—”
“No buts, Amy. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“All I’m asking is for you to give him a chance. You need something and he can provide it. What better way for you to get to know him, to give him another chance?”
Quentin laughed. “I gave him a chance once. He’s not getting another one. As far as I’m concerned, he’s already proven himself.”
“Quentin.” Her voice was soft, wispy, and he didn’t like what it did to him—commanding his attention, entreating him to listen to her. He steeled himself against her words, certain she meant to manipulate him into seeing things her way. No way. Not this time. “Maybe this is a chance for you to serve the Lord. Maybe you can provide something he needs.”
He groaned and opened his mouth to protest, but Amy continued on with her one-sided dialogue.
“Can’t you give him a second chance? You, more than anyone, should know how it feels to be prejudged.”
That he did. She was right. Her father had prejudged him based upon his brothers and their reputations, as well as one little mistake on his part. Two, he reminded himself grimly. But that second one didn’t come until after the fact and without the facts, it appeared to prove her father had been right about him all along. Just like Quentin was right about Baxter.
“No.” He spoke louder this time.
Her disgusted sigh came through the phone loud and clear. Now was not the time to try and change her mind about Friday.
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“No, I’m preventing one.” Preventing the jerk from hurting my daughter the way I hurt you.
“I don’t believe you, Quentin. You teach Bible school, teach kids about love and forgiveness, teach them about Jesus. Yet at the same time you’re refusing to reach out to a kid who perhaps has never had one bit of Bible teaching in his life. You have a chance to be an influence on him, to introduce him to the love of the Lord, and you’re turning your back. Out of selfishness. Selfish because you’re afraid he’s going to replace you in your daughter’s affections. I’m ashamed to even know you, Quentin. Don’t call me again.”
Stunned, he stared at the phone. She’d hung up before he could respond to her outrageous tirade. And in the process, Amy forgot one thing. She’d called him.
****
Quentin couldn’t believe Amy’s outrageous suggestion that he ask Baxter to design the time machine for the children’s church. What kind of idiot did she take him for? The guy was after his daughter, and she knew he’d had to fire the kid for harassing one of his other employees. She knew it. Yet she still had the audacity to suggest he put all that behind him and invite Baxter to be around Shayna more than he already was.
Not a chance.
“You have a chance to be an influence on him, to introduce him to the love of the Lord, and you’re turning your back.” Amy’s words came back to taunt him.
She was right, of course, but influencing Baxter and throwing him together with his daughter were two different things. He could forgive the kid, but that didn’t mean he had to like him, didn’t mean he had to give him another chance.
The conversation had him so steamed he couldn’t concentrate on work.
Amy’s reminder about the way her father had treated him hit a nerve. It wasn’t a reminder he needed. Not now, not when his business was failing. Her father had been right all those times he’d
said Quentin would never amount to anything, that he was a loser and would break Amy’s heart.
“Louise, I’m taking off a couple of hours early. Russ can handle things here. I’ll be at home if anyone needs me.”
Louise cast him a puzzled look, but didn’t say anything. She merely nodded as he walked out the door. He never took off early, never turned things over to Russ. He knew the building would be buzzing with speculations as soon as he left the parking lot.
The disagreement with Amy stayed with him on the drive home, but as soon as he parked the truck in front of his house, he discovered he had other problems. Glancing at the front door before he got out of the truck, he spotted the pink slip tacked to the door. He approached slowly, with wooden steps, knowing instinctively what it was. He read the wording with dismay.
City code #713a appendix c, states that farm animals may not be kept in the city limits. You are hereby ordered to remove the duck from these premises within seven days. If you choose not to comply with this order, the animal control officer will place the duck in the animal shelter for adoption. And in case you aren’t aware, animals are only kept in our shelter for two weeks.
Crumpling the pink paper in his fist, Quentin groaned and glared across the lawn at Mrs. P.’s house. Lucky for him, she was nowhere in sight. He wanted to march right over there and...and what? He certainly couldn’t attack a defenseless elderly woman. Nor would he, no matter how angry he was. But Shayna...she would be so crushed. How would he tell her?
School let out at two o’clock, so he didn’t have long to wait.
When she walked through the door at two-thirty, he still hadn’t figured out a way to tell her.
“Dad, what are you doing home so early? What’s wrong?”
Great. It was that obvious. “Sit down, sweetheart.”
“Dad, you’re scaring me.”
“Oh, Shayna, no. It’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just that you know how Mrs. Parsons is always complaining about Rufus?”
“Yeah, she’s always threatening to call the police and have them take Rufus away.”
“Well this time she’s done it.”
“No!” Shayna ran to the back door. Quentin saw her shoulders slump in relief when she saw the duck still in the yard. “Rufus.” She pressed her nose to the window in the door, staring outside. “I won’t give him up. I won’t.”
“Honey, if we don’t find a home for him the city will come and take him away.”
“It’s not fair.” She sobbed and flung herself into his arms. “It’s just not fair.”
“I know sweetheart, I know.” Quentin held his daughter while she cried, all the while thinking mean thoughts toward his neighbor. It hurt...watching his child in pain. “We have until next Monday. I’ll call Nick and see if he’ll take Rufus.”
“But we did that once before, remember? Rufus was miserable with Nick’s ducks. They were mean to him. We can’t put him back into that situation again.”
“Shayna, we may not have a choice. We’ll hold off on Nick’s until the last minute, but if we can’t find anywhere else, then that’s what it’ll have to be. I know Nick will let you visit as often as you like.”
“It won’t be the same.”
No, it wouldn’t. His mornings with Rufus, silly as it may look to a casual observer, were important to him. He’d miss it. True he wouldn’t hurt as much as his daughter, but he’d still miss the duck.
He shuddered to think what would happen if the animal shelter had to take him. Rufus would undoubtedly end up in someone’s roasting pan. Probably that of his neighbor’s. He was sure Mrs. P. and Foster would get great delight out of Roast-of-Rufus or Rufus Soup.
“What about Miss Welsh?”
“What about her?”
“She lives outside of the city limits. She lives in the old Kincaid place, and they have a huge yard. I bet she’d take Rufus for a while. Long enough for us to build a house in the country.”
A house in the country? Is that what Shayna wanted? This was the first he’d heard of it. A dismal sense of failure coursed through him as he realized he wouldn’t be able to give his daughter such a simple thing as a house in the country. If this house wasn’t paid for, he’d be in danger of losing it as well as his business.
“Why don’t you call her? She’s probably home from school by now.”
Somehow he doubted Amy would want to hear from him. Not after their last conversation.
“Come on, Dad, give her a call.”
He took one look at the hopeful expression on Shayna’s face and stepped toward the phone. He’d humble himself to Amy if he had to. Anything to keep that heartbroken look from his daughter’s eyes.
10
There were three messages on her answering machine. All three were from Quentin, each one a bit more desperate than the last. Certainly not what she expected to hear when she pressed the button on the machine. She wasn’t calling him back. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been said. Quentin Macmillan had an unforgiving heart.
So do you.
No, she didn’t. She forgave easily and never held grudges.
What about Quentin? Aren’t you holding a grudge against him?
No, she wasn’t. She didn’t hold a grudge. She was just protecting herself against getting hurt again. It wasn’t the same thing at all.
Or was it?
How could he possibly hold a year-old indiscretion against Bradley? Didn’t he realize a year was a very long time in the life of a teenager? Bradley’s actions a year ago did not indicate the type of person he was today.
Intolerance and unforgiveness, as well as a lack of understanding, were all qualities Quentin had disliked about her father. She’d reminded him of that, but apparently it was something he chose not to remember.
She couldn’t believe she could fall in love with someone so unforgiving. Of course, she wasn’t in love with Quentin. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She wasn’t the same person who had loved Quentin, and he definitely wasn’t the same person she’d loved. Half a lifetime had passed and now that Amy finally understood it, she could get on with her life.
That’s why she was poring over ads, applications, and updating her resume. It was time to get next year’s teaching position lined up, and it wouldn’t be in Goose Bay. She circled two. One, a teaching position at a high school in Bellevue. The other, a tutoring job for a family in Forks.
Nothing had been accomplished by coming here. Her purpose for coming to Goose Bay at all, to try and settle the past so she could get on with her life, was at a dead-end. She’d failed. She probably would never be able to move on since she still didn’t know why Quentin had stood her up that night. She would never know. Worse, she might not ever be able to put him out of her heart and fall in love with a man who was everything she’d always imagined Quentin to be. And that, quite possibly, was the biggest disappointment of all.
There was no place for her here and there never would be. Not until this very moment had she realized just how much she’d been hoping Quentin would confess his reasons to her and they’d walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
****
Amy hated to admit to herself that she was disappointed when she checked her mailbox at school the next day and there were no messages from Quentin. Sometime in the middle of the night she’d had a stray thought that his message may have been about Shayna. If it had, then he would have left a message here. Which meant he wanted to talk to her for personal reasons. And she didn’t want to talk to him.
When Shayna walked into class that afternoon Amy noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Her complexion was pale. Something was wrong. Perhaps Shayna really was the reason Quentin had called. Though curious, she refrained from asking even as Shayna came up to Amy’s desk. “Please call my dad, Miss Welsh. He tried to call you several times yesterday.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it at school.” Shayna bit her lip and the glint of
unshed tears shone bright in her eyes. “Just call my dad. Please?”
Why hadn’t Amy stopped to think something might be wrong? What made her conceited enough to think he’d be calling her for anything personal after the way she’d spoken to him last night.
“All right, Shayna. Since it’s an emergency, I’ll call him.”
“Oh it’s not an emergency like that.” Shayna immediately looked as if she wished she could call back the words.
Amy shook her head, puzzled by Shayna’s games. Was it, or was it not, an emergency? “I don’t know, Shayna. Your father and I have nothing further to discuss. And you’re my student. I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you. Take your seat.”
“It’s not about your argument. It’s something else. I promise. Please call him.”
Shayna looked so dejected. Amy immediately felt she’d been too harsh. At the same time, she was curious about how Shayna knew about the argument. Had Quentin been talking about her? Should she be flattered or offended? More likely, Shayna knew just because she was the kind of girl who kept an eye on everything to do with her father. “Shayna, I’ll think about calling him, OK?”
Shayna’s half-hearted smile was all the answer she needed. Something was really wrong, and it appeared she’d said just the right thing to give Shayna hope. When class was over, Shayna again begged Amy to call her dad. She didn’t want to make the call in front of Shayna, so rather than use her cell, she started to head to the office to use the phone in there. But there still wouldn’t be much privacy. Amy knew Quentin would still be at work when she got home, so she opted to wait until then since Shayna assured her it wasn’t an emergency.
While walking back to the office to drop off some papers with the school secretary, Amy noticed Bradley and Shayna standing close together in the hallway by the lockers. She walked toward them feeling guilty for spying, but they looked much too cozy and she’d never be able to forgive herself if something untoward were to happen.
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