*
Olivia heard her father’s snores before she opened the front door. She smiled in spite of her foul mood. The television was blaring the news, so she crossed the room to turn it down before waking her father.
“Dad.” Olivia tugged on his big toe. “Dad, I’m home. Go on to bed.”
Her father grunted, then shifted the recliner to an upright position. “You have a good time at Maggie’s?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Huh,” her father said. “So why do you look so mopey?”
She sank onto a nearby ottoman. “Jonathan said he’s buying another boat.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that when I saw him shooting the breeze a couple weeks ago with Pete Celucci.” Her father reached for the remote control and muted the TV. “Best thing that could happen to the boy.”
“He was pretty happy about it.” Olivia bit her lip. She was tired, and her head still hurt. Of course her father would understand Jonathan’s point of view.
“And you’re not happy.”
She shrugged. “He said he was working on carpentry.”
“All I can say is that the boy’s born for the water. It goes way back in his family. Came here from Portugal a couple hundred years ago, even before we Sheas came from Ireland. If his dad’s health wasn’t so bad, he’d be up here instead of down in Florida year round.”
“You see things his way because you’re a fisherman, too.” Her protest sounded feeble, petty to her ears. Of course Jonathan had a right to head for the ocean, to chase that dream again.
“Jonathan’s a smart boy. He knows what he’s doing.” Her father’s level gaze forced her to study the television screen where a woman was gesturing to a weather map.
“I know.” Olivia sighed. “I’m just tired, and the news was a shock. I think I’ll go to bed now.” She headed up the stairs, the steps creaking.
Sleep refused to come when at last Olivia had changed into her nightshirt and crawled under the covers. She sighed, kicked off the blankets and found her Bible on the shelf. The Psalms always brought comfort to her. No one else seemed to understand her feelings at the moment.
Olivia turned the pages until they stopped at chapter 46. “God is our refuge and strength, a present help in time of trouble. Though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea, though the oceans roar and foam, we will not fear.” So she shouldn’t be afraid. God would be her strength and her refuge. Then why didn’t she feel strong and secure? Jonathan had every right to want his dream back. She had no business telling him what he ought or ought not to do. Why did the fear keep trying to wrap her in its tentacles and smother her like some great underwater beast? Had the psalmist ever felt the earth give way beneath him, or felt the fury of the ocean?
She finished reading the chapter, hoping to pull some reassurance from the sacred words. Tears pricked her eyes.
“Father God, I’m sorry. I’ve tried to trust You before, and look what happened. It didn’t work. You…You let me down. How do I know it won’t happen again?” Olivia closed the leather cover and set the Bible on her desk instead of on the shelf.
Out went the light, and the darkness seemed tangible. She slipped back in bed for another attempt at sleep. Lights from the street below flickered with passing cars. The television, now back to its former volume, bellowed about the concert earlier that evening with the Boston Pops. Olivia stared at the ceiling, then gasped.
She’d left her lobster at Maggie’s. Jonathan must really think her a heel now. And she had to face him at the boat come morning. Some friend she was.
*
The four-day work week should have felt shorter, but time on the boat dragged for Jonathan. Olivia barely spoke to him except when necessary. What could he say to calm her fear? Part of him wondered how much she cared for him if she seemed to worry so much. Could it be that maybe a chance remained they could someday be more than friends?
By Friday he’d had enough of the silence. With Maggie’s prize lobster perched on the seat next to him, Jonathan drove to the Sheas’ house. He’d finished Todd and Maggie’s bookcases last night and delivered the set to their house. The pride of his accomplishment, plus Maggie’s encouragement that Olivia had cooled off, boosted his confidence to bring the lobster as a peace offering.
An express delivery truck blocked the Sheas’ driveway, so Jonathan parked behind Olivia’s car on the street. The silly lobster grinned at him as he grabbed it from the front seat. “Here goes, Smiley. If I get shot down, so do you.”
Jonathan nodded to the departing deliveryman, and pounded up the front steps. Good. The screen door was open.
Sam answered his knock. “Jonathan, c’mon in. You get to be the first to see my new toy.” He appeared to study the lobster in Jonathan’s hands.
“Toy?” Jonathan tucked the lobster under one arm and opened the screen door. He followed Sam to the living room.
Olivia was kneeling beside a box printed with the name of a mega-computer firm. She shook her head, glossy brown hair streaming past her shoulders. Jonathan liked her hair down. Had she been growing it longer this summer? His palms felt damp around the plastic creature in his hands.
“Dad, I’m shocked. I’m proud of you. Your own computer…” Her voice trailed off when she looked up and Jonathan held out the lobster.
“Hi. Smiley’s missed you.” He waved it at her.
A flicker of humor sparked in her eyes. “He has?”
He nodded, taking a seat on the floor across from her while Sam settled into his easy chair. “He’s been hanging around the house with Thelma all week.” Jonathan couldn’t believe he was discussing plastic lobsters and naming them in front of Olivia’s father, no less.
“Poor guy. Welcome home, Smiley.” Olivia gave the lobster a pat and put him on the coffee table. “Wait there while I open this computer.”
“I decided it was about time I get modernized here,” Sam’s voice boomed. “You ever use computers, Jon?”
“Some.” Jonathan watched Olivia carefully unpack a monitor, along with a keyboard and speakers.
“My sister down in Boston was nagging me to get online, so I figure this old dog can learn some new things.” Sam chuckled.
Olivia stood, clutching the monitor. “Dad, where do you want this set up? Your old desk in the entryway? Or do you want to have one built? I know this guy who’s a good carpenter.”
“The desk in the entryway’s fine.”
Jonathan followed Olivia to the entryway and watched her set the monitor on the cluttered desk. How in the world did Sam keep everything straight? At least they wouldn’t have to move the mammoth piece of furniture. Its broad surface would leave plenty of room for the computer. Sam had ordered one of those all-in-one computers. Nice.
Olivia sighed, shoving papers out of the way, and set the monitor down in the middle of the desk. “All right. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have you hooked up. Are you sure there’s a plug behind this desk?”
“The lamp’s plugged into the wall back there.”
She fed the cables through the space between the desk and the wall. “Now, all I have to do is get under here to plug everything in.”
She crawled under the desk. “Dad, you really need to clean behind the desk.” Her voice sounded muffled. “It’s a fire hazard with all this paper down here… Hold on, I found the plugs.”
Sam looked at Jonathan with hopeful eyes. “Hope this works. Say, you got plans for supper?”
“No.”
“Well, stay, then. I’m sure Liv will make enough for all of us, won’t you, Liv?”
The cords had stopped their wiggling between the top of the desk and the wall. Olivia hadn’t emerged from under the desk.
“Liv?” Sam ducked his head down.
Olivia scooted backward on her hands and knees. She stood, tossing crumpled papers and a wrinkled envelope onto the desk. Then she sneezed.
“What’s wrong?” Jonathan glanced at the small pile of papers.
“Look
at the envelope.” Her face had blanched.
Jonathan picked up the letter-sized envelope, first noting the Fairport postmark, then the return address. Sent from Robby O’Leary to Olivia Shea, the letter was postmarked the same day the Lady Jane had shipped out two years ago, never to return.
Chapter 6
Olivia stared at the envelope. “Dad.”
“Go ahead.” Pop placed a hand on her shoulder, and its warm strength did battle with her pounding heart. “You read it. Jonathan and I’ll see to supper.” The hand lifted. Heavy steps left the entryway.
She didn’t venture to meet Jonathan’s eyes. “Did you know?”
He drew a ragged breath. “Yeah, I knew Robby had written you a letter.”
Olivia reached for the envelope. “I’ll go read it.” At last she glanced at him. Their fingers touched, a gentle pressure through the paper as Jonathan kept her hand in his. Shadowed eyes revealed nothing. His stubble of beard made him appear older and tired.
She wanted him to smile for her, to reassure her that this letter would serve to remind her of the special place Robby once had in her life. Yet a gnawing began in her stomach.
Stop it. What harm could it be, reading a letter written by a dead man? But what did Robby have to tell her that he needed to put in a letter? He’d never been given to letter writing.
“I’ll be here.” He released her hand and the letter. Her hand felt cold without his touch.
Olivia turned and climbed the stairs to her room. Shutting the door with a firm click, she settled onto her bed. Should she rip into the envelope? Or should she open it carefully to respect Robby’s memory? And what would she want to do with the letter after reading its contents?
Within seconds, the letter lay unfolded on her lap. Olivia filled her lungs with air, then began to read:
Dear Liv,
Tomorrow I head out for another month. But I can’t leave without telling you how much you mean to me. You’re a wonderful young woman with a bright future ahead of you.
I think we should call off the wedding and step back to take a look at things. For the past year it’s been all you’ve talked about and focused on. You need to make sure you’re going to be happy spending your life waiting for a guy like me to come home to you all the time. After the wedding, it’s back to the same old, same old.
I don’t want you feeling like you settled for less than God’s best for you. I know God watches over us, but we never know when we will lose loved ones. I couldn’t bear leaving you if I knew you’d spent your life loving me more than anything else.
I hope you understand. I love you, but I don’t want you missing out on something better. If you need help with the wedding stuff, ask Mom. I know she’ll help out canceling orders. We’ll talk more when I get back.
Love,
Robby
He’d wanted to call off the wedding? How could Robby have thought she’d be settling?
The words squeaked out. “I can’t believe it.” Olivia flopped onto her back.
How ironic. Olivia remembered she had indeed canceled the caterer, the musicians, the florist. Frances had been too numb after the shipwreck to offer much help, although while planning the wedding Frances had tried to push her own ideas until Olivia was ready to scream.
She also remembered she’d closed herself off and shut down her emotions when Robby’s boat was lost. She hadn’t even cried at the memorial service. When a young woman had needed a wedding gown in a hurry, Olivia had given her the dress without a qualm. She no longer felt attached to a dream dress that she would never wear.
What difference would it have made if she’d found it back when his boat was lost? Would she have even left Fairport and tried to start a new life?
She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in the comforter, inhaling the scent of fabric softener.
“What does he mean that I was so focused on the wedding for that whole year? How dare he?” She had done everything a good fisherman’s woman was supposed to do. She’d waited, she’d prayed. She hadn’t complained. What else was there for her to do besides work on her degrees and plan a wedding?
She sat up, glaring at the paper on the floor. Robby had made her sound as if she’d been smothering him and had been superficial for focusing on their wedding. Of course, all brides were caught up in the moment. Olivia shook her head. He’d wanted to postpone the wedding.
Not that it mattered now.
*
“So what will it be? Pot roast or meat loaf? I’m throwing a stir-fry dinner in the microwave for Liv.” Sam’s thick upper torso was hidden behind the freezer door, but the top of his shaggy gray head appeared over the top.
“Pot roast.” Jonathan watched the older man open the frozen dinner boxes.
By the time the meals were heated through, Jonathan learned more than he thought he’d ever want to know about lobstering. Sam Shea had to be lonely. Never had he heard the fisherman say so much in one stretch of time.
His thoughts remained with Liv upstairs. On the Lady Jane’s last trip Robby had mentioned he’d come to some decisions on their relationship.
“Here you are.” Sam slid the pot roast dinner onto a plate. “Guess we’ll eat now. Liv will come down when she’s ready.”
Jonathan was halfway through his meal when he heard Olivia’s footsteps on the stairs. Sam continued to eat as though he’d heard nothing.
Olivia’s smile warmed his heart, but her blotchy cheeks made his gut tighten. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be okay.” She glanced at her father, then took her seat at the weathered table.
“Your dinner’s in the oven. I gave you the stir fry,” Sam said around a mouthful.
“Thanks.” After sitting down with her meal, Liv bowed her head briefly, then picked up her fork. “Robby sent the letter because he wanted to call off the wedding…indefinitely.” Her brown eyes glistened as she took a bite of rice.
Jonathan had clenched a hand into a fist before he realized it. He’d let Sam speak first. The older man chewed his bite, not looking up from his plate.
If Jonathan had Robby here right now, he’d be tempted to slug the guy. Robby never had gotten around to saying what he’d decided about Liv. What had changed Robby’s mind? Liv could be a little intense sometimes, but her passion for life had always appealed to Jonathan.
Even after taking a sip of his iced tea, Jonathan waited for Sam to speak. But maybe Robby hadn’t really wanted to marry Olivia at all. The thought struck him like a punch.
Jonathan recalled the morning Robby had announced the engagement. The two of them were hosing down the deck of the Lady Jane.
“Liv’s wanting to get married, so I went ahead and asked her,” was what Robby had said. “She didn’t come out and say it, but I could tell.”
From that point on, Olivia had run the show. Even at the time, Jonathan had told Robby he should have made more of an effort with the proposal. Cold feet, indeed.
The sound of Olivia’s voice jolted him back.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“Did you know Robby was calling off the wedding? You said you knew about the letter.” Her voice sounded hard.
“No. I didn’t know he’d said that.” Jonathan refused to tear his gaze from hers. “Robby said he’d made some decisions about the relationship, but he never got the chance to tell me.” He unclenched his fist, wanting nothing more than to move to Olivia’s side of the table and take her in his arms.
Sam sighed. “It’s a shock, and it’s a shame. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t want to knock some sense into Robby if I could right about now.” He patted Olivia’s hand. “But what’s done is done. Can’t go back. All you can do is go ahead.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re right. And Jon, I’m glad you’re here.” Olivia focused on her supper.
Sam pushed back from the table. “Of course we’re here for you. I’m going to put my plate in the sink and catch the news, and let you young people be. I’m sure y
ou’ve got some things to talk about.”
What an understatement. Jonathan took the last bite of his meal.
After they cleared the dishes from the table, Liv refilled their iced tea glasses. Jonathan took that as a hint for him to stay.
“Do you want to sit on the porch? Dad and I like to go out there some evenings.” Her eyes looked like sweet chocolate.
“Sure.” His palms had gone sweaty again, but it was probably because of the wet glass.
The July sun was swiftly disappearing to the west, lighting the street in a midsummer glow. A salty breeze drifted through the air. Jonathan would never tire of the smell.
They sat side by side on the ancient porch swing, just like Olivia and Robby had sat side by side after they’d started seeing each other long ago. Jonathan remembered leaving earlier after supper back then. He’d felt like a fifth wheel.
“You doing better?”
Olivia nodded.
“Good.”
Then she sighed. “I just…”
“What?”
“I just wonder if I was as all-consumed by the wedding as Robby said I was…and so totally focused on him that I didn’t see anyone or anything else.” She sipped her tea, then let the ice cubes swirl around the glass.
Jonathan wanted to choose his words carefully. “Does it matter now?”
“No, not really. I just wonder if I knew him as well as I thought I did. He seemed excited to be getting married.” Olivia studied her tea glass. “I mean, aren’t grooms supposed to be?”
“Uh, I would guess so.” Jonathan cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s not like some of the stuff women worry about is a big deal to us guys.”
“True. I know that. He fell asleep one night here on the couch when I was showing him bridesmaids’ dress ideas.” Olivia smiled, then laughed. “I guess I did obsess a little.”
But Robby had been almost nonchalant about the proposal and everything. A man shouldn’t be nonchalant concerning the woman he loved. Jonathan pondered that for a moment. He didn’t see the point in bringing that up now.
Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents) Page 5