Diamond Lake Series: Complete Series (Bks 1-7) Boxset

by T. K. Chapin

  Seeing Connor leave, I felt a twinge of sadness creep over me as I glanced his way.

  CHAPTER 16

  The morning following the funeral, I became anxious at the thought of Connor flying out to New Zealand. Maybe it was what Charlie had said about how you never know how much time is left, as he stood by Emma’s casket at the front of the church.

  Sitting on the couch upstairs, I rubbed the corner of the heart-shaped pendant he had given me, contemplating calling him. I’m leaving though . . .

  Serenah came into the living room and I sat up, swinging my legs over the cushion to sit up straight. She sat down. Glancing over at me, she forced a smile.

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  Serenah’s eyes turned toward the fireplace. She must have been formulating some way of answering it as she hesitated for a moment. She shrugged. “I don’t know. The phone calls I loathed are slowing, and now, I’m starting to miss them.”

  Reaching over, I hugged her and she let herself fall into my shoulder. Rubbing her back, it felt as if I could feel every ounce of pain. Loss was something I felt I was an expert in.

  Charlie came into the living room from the kitchen a short time later. Serenah and he left to go into Spokane. They were going to grab a bite to eat with a friend of Emma’s.

  I decided to call Connor.

  “Angela,” he said, answering in a smooth voice I found comforting.

  “You said you wanted to talk?” I asked.

  “Mind if I come over really quickly? My plane doesn’t leave till tonight.”

  Letting out a sigh, I shook my head. Tears and my emotions rattled in my core. “I’m flying out in the morning at six. I’m tired, and I’ve already had an emotionally draining week. I just didn’t want you to think I wouldn’t call when you asked me to. Can we just go on living our lives?”

  “Sure. If that’s what you want, Angie.”

  “I do.”

  Hanging up with Connor, I felt an ounce of regret, but then I reminded myself that life would go on without Connor. It did after Ted, and Ted was the love of my life. This, too, would pass.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Zone one is now ready to board,” a young woman’s voice chimed. Standing, I grabbed my purse and suitcase to board my plane. As I waited in line, I checked my phone out of curiosity if someone had called. I kind of hoped a special someone would. Clearing my mind, I lifted my chin high and looked forward in line.

  In my seat on the plane, I began making mental bullet points of what I’d do once I returned home. Go through all the burned up leftovers of my old life and replace the furniture with the insurance money. Maybe I’ll get a job. My time at the tree lot made for certain I’d never do that job again, but working back at the soap factory like the good ole’ days wouldn’t be so bad. Yeah, something to fill the time. At least a few days a week.

  Knock, knock

  Startled, I lifted my head from my relaxed position of my seat and looked out my little window beside me.

  “Connor?” My eyes widened and my heart cleaved against my ribcage. “What are you doing?” I shouted as I jumped out of my seat, landing almost in the man’s lap beside me. I knocked the man’s newspaper into his lap, and he grumbled. I jolted back to the window and Connor. My heart was racing as I shouted as close as I could to the window, “What are you doing here?” I repeated.

  Muffled, but still understandable, Connor spoke. “I don’t want to just ‘go on living my life’.” My heart fluttered, and then something distracted him from below. His eyebrows shot up.

  “What is all the commotion about?” a flight attendant asked, leaning into the row to see out the window. Her eyes widened as she saw him and quickly made her way back toward the front of the plane, alerted the pilot, and called security.

  I turned back to the window, and Connor was gone. Pushing my face up against the window, I tried to see below and I couldn’t. My heart began pounding, and I got up out of my seat, grabbed my purse, and headed for the exit. Stopping at the flight attendants, I asked, “Excuse me. What is going to happen to that man?”

  The flight attendant turned to me and said, “He’ll probably go to jail. You can’t just be on runways in this day and age. Security got him.”

  Hurrying, I maneuvered through the people trying to get on the plane and headed back into the airport to go find him.

  Lips pursed, back straight, and my phone dead, I waited for Airport Security to release Connor. He had been in there for close to three hours now, and I was becoming increasingly worried about what would happen to him.

  He was finally released.

  The gray door opened and he came waltzing into the room. He didn’t seem to have a bit of remorse. He was all smiles. Standing up, I went over to him and we hugged. His embrace was warm, perfect, sublime. I was worried about him for hours. I thought they’d water board him, maybe throw him in a federal prison. Those ideas came to me an hour into waiting when I saw two federal agents arrive and go into the room, causing my imagination to take off running.

  Releasing from our embrace, he tilted his head and his eyes bounced between both of mine. “I was stupid, Angela. Really stupid. I know we can probably go on living our lives and whatever, but I was about to go to New Zealand yesterday, and I realized I don’t want to.”

  He gently touched my hands, holding them in his. “I could go on, but my heart cannot. I feel alive when I’m with you, Angela. Even when I’m just in the same vicinity as you, I feel better, like my heart is beating for the first time. You make me want to be a better person. I got you that necklace with the coordinates of where we prayed because through that storm, we had a moment—a moment that blossomed into something beautiful, Angela. I believe God uses the storms we go through in life to not only bring people closer together with each other, but closer to Him. I love you.”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I felt his words touch my soul. He looked like he was about to say more, but I stopped him. “I love you too, Connor.” Leaning up onto my toes, I kissed him.

  Relaxing his shoulders, he pulled me in and we continued to kiss.

  “Hey,” the security guard at the desk interrupted. “Can you not?”

  We both laughed, and Connor put his arm around my shoulders as we started walking through the airport.

  “What did security say? What’s going to happen to you?”

  “I’m getting a huge fine and will probably have to go to court.”

  Stopping, I gently grabbed his arm to stop him. “Why aren’t you upset about it? That seems really bad. How did you even get up there?”

  A grin snuck in from the corner of his lips. “I tried to call you, and when I didn’t get an answer, I hijacked the luggage lift. I had to get to you. As for being upset, I got the girl. How could I be upset?”

  Pulling him close to me, I leaned on my toes and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me and smoothed my hair with his hand.

  From that point on, Connor and I would be together. After finding a place for breakfast that morning, we mapped out a plan to get me relocated to Spokane. I didn’t have to, but I sold my shares to Robert after I broke the news to him and found out he had been interested in buying them ever since Ted had passed.

  I hated flying, but I’m glad I had that Monday morning in November. It was through One Monday Prayer that I’d found Connor.

  The End.

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  One Tuesday Lunch

  Diamond Lake Series: Book 6

  By:

  T.K. Chapin

  www.tkchapin.com

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for choosing to read One Tuesday Lunch. I wrote this book to help people who are going through what feels like an impossible situation. Sometimes, we feel as if the whole world is against us and we want so badly to control things, but oftentimes, while we are busy trying our own way, God is working behind the scenes elsewhere. This story centers on a woman who helps a stranger. M
y hope for this story is that it blesses you as much as it did me while writing it.

  And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who[a] have been called according to his purpose.

  Romans 8:28

  When we use the Scriptures as a blueprint for our life, blessings follow. God doesn’t promise everything will be perfect, but He does promise to lift us up when we fall. If you need help aligning your life with the Bible, I recommend picking up a free thirty-day devotional that will be delivered to your inbox to get you jump-started. To claim, visit tkchapin.com/devotional

  CHAPTER 1

  Sliding my index finger around the rim of my cola at Dixie’s Diner, I sat in a booth, attempting to enjoy the last few minutes of my lunch break. Attempting was all I was doing, though, I couldn’t shake my latest funk I was in. I hadn’t been out on a date in three months, and the only friend I saw outside of Serenah was my co-workers, which were not really ‘friends.’ My hopes of starting night school this coming spring were reduced to a pile of rubble last week. My own fault, of course. A run down to the Newport Emergency Room for a late-night visit because I thought something was wrong has a way of costing a bit more on the back end, as in I hit a curb in the parking lot and had to get my bumper repaired. The funny thing is my abnormal heartbeat I went in for fixed itself before I ever saw a doctor. They still ran a slew of tests at my request. Perhaps, part of me wanted something to be wrong. It’d given the daily mundane drip of life a bit of flavor.

  The routines of day in and day out work were wearing thin on me. With no savings and the only money I ever saw coming in was in the form of crumpled dollar bills stuck between salt and pepper shakers on tables, I felt stuck.

  Life wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  “Miley,” Wendy, my manager, said with that same dry, stern voice that I had come to loathe over the years. She’s never been the same after her husband of twenty years left her for his secretary years ago.

  “Yeah?” What I wanted to say I couldn’t. She’d fire me if I told her to leave me alone on my lunch hour. That wouldn’t be kind either, though, and I think I’m a fairly nice person. At least, that’s the image I try to keep up when I’m around people. They don’t see or hear the thoughts I have on the inside.

  “I need you to take an order to a man that moved into Paul’s old place up the road. You know where I’m talking about?”

  “Yes.” Paul was a frequent customer before he passed away a couple of years ago. “The old blue house on Claremont Street?”

  “A simple ‘yes’ would have been sufficient. The order will be ready after your break; it’s already paid for.” She turned and went back to the manager’s office without another word, slamming the door behind her. Cringing at the sound, I thought, what a miserable life she must live. To let the pain of the past dictate and seep into the future. I had my moments too, though they were secret, in the comfort of my own home.

  After finishing my break, I picked up the order and headed out the door. The sun shone brightly that afternoon, but it did little to warm me. Early January wasn’t exactly the best time of year for a walk, but I surely wasn’t going to waste gas driving. Plus, I’d enjoy every second of time outside of that diner. A little chill in the air wasn’t going to stop me.

  The thought of calling in sick crossed my mind daily as I would lay in bed and dread getting up only to go to work. The work itself wasn’t the issue—it was the boss. At least when Charlotte and Serenah worked with me, I had a friendly face to look forward to. They made the painful experience of working under Wendy at least bearable. Diego did also. It was too bad Diego quit a couple of months ago after being chastised for being five minutes late, he couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t like that woman.

  Arriving at the sidewalk in front of the old blue house, I fidgeted with the gate on the chain link fence. It was jammed. It appeared rusty and crusted over with snow and ice. It made me curious how often it was used. Finally, after a few smacks and a couple of yanks, I got the gate open. Walking up the crumbling walkway to the house, I could hear a faint bark coming from inside the house. Please don’t have a big dog, I thought to myself as I came to the door.

  I knocked.

  The muffled sound of footsteps shuffling around inside mingled with the anxious bark of a dog. Spotting a small table on the porch near the door beside a chair, I noticed a small metal box not bigger than the size of a can of tuna. It had a combination lock on it. Part of me wanted to go look, but then the door opened.

  “What do you want?” an attractive yet hostile appearing man asked, gripping the door with white knuckles.

  I froze, saying nothing.

  “Who are you?” the man demanded grumpily. His unshaven stubble on his chin was just enough to give him a rugged look. He took a hop through the doorway toward me as he held himself up with a hand against the door frame. He glanced to his left and then to his right at the neighbors’ houses. I did notice he was missing leg, but I didn’t look. My eyes couldn’t shy away from his gaze when he turned it back on me.

  Taking a step back, my heart raced. “Miley. I’m from Dixie’s Diner . . . I’m delivering your order.”

  “Oh.” He dropped his hand that was clutched to the door jamb. His face softened, and his tone lightened. “Sorry about that.” A part of me still felt uneasy, maybe even a little scared—scared to appreciate just how easy he was on the eyes. Every muscle in my body was rattling like a window on a house near a set of train tracks. My mind was still fixated on that look he gave me a moment earlier.

  “Here,” I said, shooting out my hand. Once he took the plastic sack with his meal from my hand, I turned and left, nerves still rattling as I walked away. Once I got to the sidewalk and out of his sight, I booked it back to the diner.

  Arriving back at Dixie’s Diner, I discovered Wendy had already left. That was probably for the best because I was about to walk up to her and quit for making me do that. There had to be some rule about not endangering employees. Home trips weren’t part of this job when I signed up, especially home trips to attractive, crazy men who could crush me with one hand. After speaking with Melanie, another server, for a few minutes after I returned, I was able to calm down and hand it over to God. That part was hard . . . for me, at least. Handing it all over to God required letting it go. I do love God, pray and read my Bible daily, but I often find myself struggling to let go of controlling certain parts of my life. I struggle to not let my emotions take the steering wheel in the heat of a moment.

  I was off by three that afternoon, so I decided to pay a visit to the wisest friend I had—Serenah. She always seemed to give all to God. She was so inspiring to me. My heart longed to someday be like that woman in my own walk with Christ. After the incident, I clung to the idea of visiting with her the rest of my shift. She would know how to help calm my anger toward Wendy.

  She was good like that.

  When Brody Jenkins and I broke up, I was an absolute wreck. I think I went through more tissues and chocolate covered raisins in a period of a week than most people do in a lifetime. Anyway, Serenah was there immediately after I told her about the breakup. She stayed with me for a couple of days and helped me through it. She was the best.

  Arriving to the inn, I parked and went up to the door. Giving the door a few good knocks, I stepped back and waited.

  Charlie answered. He looked tired, worn out. “Hey.” His voice was cold as the cool, still air of winter. “Serenah’s not feeling too well today, Miley.”

  “Oh.” His words shattered my hopes in an instant. I wanted to speak to her, tell her about the difficulties with Wendy. It had been a while since I saw her last, probably about a month’s time. It was at the funeral for Emma, Serenah already had a cute baby bump at the time. Charlie must have sensed something was wrong with me. He turned and hollered into the living room, asking Serenah if she wanted to see me. She insisted he invite me in, which brought a smile to my face and a touch of warmth to my heart. Se
renah was a good person. I think that quality came to her naturally.

  Charlie led me inside.

  Finding her lying on the couch with a dark blue checkered blanket draped over her lap and a washcloth on her forehead, my smile fell away.

  Serenah looked worn out. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face had a pale, ghostly appearance. If I were a good person, like she, I would have turned around and not bothered. But I was a bit selfish. I felt helpless over the situation with Wendy. I was going to go mad if I didn’t figure out a way to cope. I needed my friend. A dose of her Heavenly wisdom might be the key to unlocking happiness and bliss. Probably not, but she’d know what I could do to help myself.

  I sat down in the chair that was adjacent to the couch she was on. Charlie came over to Serenah and bent a knee to remove the washcloth. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead and took the rag into the kitchen. He was so gentle, so kind to her. My heart longed for a man like that, one who cared.

  “First off, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well . . . hope everything is okay with the baby?”

  She nodded. “Don’t worry about me. Please, go ahead.”

  “I’m struggling at Dixie’s . . .” I admitted. Going on, I told her about what happened with the delivery and how I had anger with Wendy. After I got done venting all, she didn’t speak right away but rolled onto her side and reached down to the floor between the coffee table and the couch. Peering down, I saw her fingers searching the floor.

  “Can you see my Bible?” she asked finally, glancing over at me.

  Surveying the carpet, I saw it. It was on the far end of the couch on the floor. Standing up, I went over and picked it up for her. Serenah slowly scooted her body to sit up. Each movement looked like it ached. I handed her the Bible. Her fingers slipped right in, and she began flipping pages as I sat down on the couch.