“Dutch, I suppose. My grandparents spoke a form of German that our people refer to as Dutch.”
He glanced at her covering. “I see. Charmed to meet ya.”
When everyone was seated, Fletch gave her hand a squeeze from under the table.
Lil quietly sized up the situation. Marshall, who was footing the bill, had called the group together and was the man in charge. Frank, who had a commanding presence, seemed the most at ease. Conversation lulled in an almost awkward silence as they looked over the menu, which Marshall chose not to read to the others.
After the orders were taken, bowls of chips and salsa appeared.
With the lively background music, Lil couldn’t catch all of the conversation, but she had just raised her water to her lips when she clearly heard, “I guess ya’ll know about my absurd situation?”
Peering over the rim of her glass, she saw that Marshall had directed his gaze at Frank.
“It is tragic. I suppose it’s those nasty cigars.”
Lil choked, and quickly brought her napkin to cover her mouth.
“That’s the spirit. I hate when ya’ll gush over me. Just wanted to get it out in the open and over with. Now we can enjoy ourselves.”
Lil dipped a chip in the small bowl of salsa she was sharing with Fletch, who at best looked dismayed.
“It is wonderful to see ya’ll again.” Marshall was talking to Fletch’s parents. “But it is for Fletch’s sake that I called this little rendezvous.” He tapped a chip with a ringed finger, then brought it to his mouth. She got a flash of his watch, its face encircled in clear jewels, and Lil guessed that they were real diamonds.
“For me?” Fletch asked.
“Yes, I know we’ve been playing a little cat and mouse lately, but let’s just say I have a new perspective. Cancer does that. I want to offer ya a real job.”
Lil joined the others in staring at Fletch. She saw his jaw clench and knew that he was bracing himself for yet another of Marshall’s schemes.
“You’ve already done more for our family than we can ever repay. Perhaps we’ve … I’ve leaned too heavily on your generosity. I need to learn to … make my own way.”
“Of course. Ya want to prove your manhood. Maturity includes the ability to recognize opportunities. Life-changing opportunities.”
Lil clasped her hands in her lap, her face on fire in embarrassment for Fletch. How could he have been so enamored and under the spell of this condescending man? If not for Fletch’s parents and Marshall’s cancer, she might not have been able to hold her tongue.
Beside her, Fletch said, “I’m listening.”
“I’m going to set ya up at the shelter. The shelter of your choice. If you’re not happy at the Plain City Shelter here with my Marcus, there’s the farm in Indiana. I believe we need a full-time veterinarian on staff.” He waved a flash of diamonds. “Take your time to decide.” He ran a warning gaze over Lil, and it sent a chill down her spine. She jutted her chin and met his disdainful gaze, but beneath the table, she twisted her napkin.
“It’s a generous offer.”
And it was, because Fletch had told her that getting started wasn’t easy.
“But the shelter is not my cause.”
Lil felt relief flood over her. She’d never felt as attracted to Fletch as she did at that moment.
“I’ll probably take an internship after I graduate. I’m sure the school will have some recommendations.”
“I find your rejection quite disrespectful.”
“Now wait a minute,” Frank interrupted. “You don’t own my son.”
Marshall set down his water glass so forcefully that it spilled onto the table. “I’ve been more of a father to him than ya have.”
“Gentlemen,” Bonnie said, “please, calm yourselves.”
“And lower your voices,” Marcus added. “People are staring.”
“Let them stare! I’ll buy this restaurant,” Marshall cursed. “See if I care about gawkers!”
Lil’s family may have had their share of arguments around the kitchen table, but they never had made themselves a public spectacle.
Marshall glared at Frank. “I’ve a mind to withdraw my support.”
Frank replied calmly, “Marshall, that is not the important thing here. Nor any of your charitable causes, commendable as your life has been in that area and appreciative as I am for your support over the years. But now is the time for you to search your soul. You don’t have time for anything less.”
“I don’t want to hear ya’ll—”Marshall suddenly coughed and lost his voice. The southerner slumped, took several deep wheezing breaths.
“Dad?”
“This isn’t finished,” he gasped, standing up. He clenched his fists, then turned abruptly and left the dining room.
Marcus slapped a couple of large bills on the table and hurried after his dad.
“Sorry, everybody,” Ashley mumbled, then scurried to catch up with the Lewis men.
They could hear Marshall coughing as he left the restaurant.
“He’s a changed man,” Bonnie gasped. “I don’t even recognize him.”
Fletch turned to Lil. “He wasn’t like this before.”
“Are you sure you just never crossed his purposes before?”
“No, he and Frank have had a few differences,” Bonnie explained. “It must be the cancer.”
“He’s a desperate man,” Frank observed. “He’s worked hard to buy his way into heaven. And he’s afraid he hasn’t done enough.”
After Marshall left, everyone was subdued. Frank made an attempt to praise his son for holding his ground, but Fletch simply withdrew. And when he dropped Lil back off at the doddy house, he was still restless, as if the argument was working on him.
They stood on the doddy house porch while Lil looked for her keys.
“Sorry for a terrible evening.”
“Almost made me feel at home.”
“Hardly.”
“I like your parents, but your dad isn’t the way I had him pictured.”
Fletch gave a bitter laugh. “How’s that?”
“I expected a missionary to be gentle, but he’s so bold.”
She saw Fletch flinch and wished she’d kept her observation to herself. He didn’t need more ammunition against his father.
“Domineering. And I need to get him out of my house before he drives me crazy.”
“Your mom is sweet.”
“Yes, but she’s spunky. She has to be to live with him.”
“Are you worried about Marshall?”
“Of course I am,” he snapped. “The man’s dying. He’s trying to tie up loose ends, and we picked a fight with him. He’s always been there for me. Now when he needs me … I’m rejecting him.”
“It was almost like he came trying to pick a fight.”
Fletch narrowed his eyes. “We told you, he’s changed. That’s the whole point. He’s struggling right now. What if that whole scene was a struggle of wills. And the only reason my dad came was to win?”
“Win what?”
“Me. You heard what Marshall told him. That he was more of a father than my dad had ever been.”
“Well if he came to win you back, then that’s a good thing, isn’t it? That he realizes he made a mistake and—”
“Not to win my affection. Just to win out over Marshall.”
“Oh, Fletch. I don’t know, I—”
“I don’t expect you to understand any of this. Look. I need some time to sort through all this. I need to go. I’ll be in touch.”
“In touch?” Lil felt her stomach knot with confusion and dread. “Fletch, what are you saying?”
“Don’t try to put words in my mouth.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.” He reached up and touched her chin, stared into her eyes, but she felt like his soul was miles away, perhaps back at the restaurant or even traveling out to the shelter where Marshall was staying. Would he go out to see him once he left her? Or would
he go back to his apartment to his sleeping bag on the floor?
His caress on her chin was a far cry from the good-luck kiss he had promised earlier in the day, the one Megan’s dad had spoiled for them. She nodded, leaned her cheek into his hand, hoping he would understand her need. But he pulled away and strode silently to his car.
Lil sank to the stoop in despair, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Just when she’d decided to give her all to this relationship, he’d pulled away. She wondered if this was how miserable he’d been feeling when she was the one dragging her feet. But then she remembered the promise she had made him. I trust you, Fletch Stauffer. You may not believe in yourself right now, but I do.
She gazed up at the expanse of glittering September stars and realized that she hadn’t spoken to God for a while. She dipped her face in the crook of her arms and apologized to the One who had formed both their souls. Marshall’s face popped into her mind, and she wanted to squirm out of praying for the man whose cold eyes had warned her to stay away from Fletch. Or were they daring her to pray for him?
“You didn’t have to wait up.” Fletch patted Buddy on the head and put his car keys on a small hook.
“This is close quarters, dear. We are rather in this all together,” Mom replied. “We’ve been sitting on the patio. But it got chilly so I made us some decaf coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“Sure.”
Fletch slipped to the floor, careful not to spill his coffee, and leaned his back against his bed.
“That’s a lot of sighing going on down there,” she said from her seat at the table.
“It just feels like we’ve used Marshall for his money, and now that he needs us to walk with him, we’re tossing him aside.”
“If that were the case,” Dad replied, “we would be staying all the more in his good graces in hopes of getting something out of his will. A friend tells the truth, even when it hurts.”
“But does it have to be so harsh?” Fletch asked, which really was a major issue he had with his dad.
“I was proud of your firmness with Marshall.”
“He called it disrespect.”
“No, you weren’t disrespectful, dear. It’s just that Marshall wanted you to accept so badly that he lashed out. And Frank, put some sugar in your coffee beans.”
“So you both think I came across too strong.”
“He could be the apostle Paul’s twin,” Mom observed.
Dad ignored her comment. “What I told him, about searching his soul? That goes for you, too, son.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I sense restlessness in you.”
Not until you came.
“Just make sure you’re following your calling, not man’s.”
“Marshall was there for me when I didn’t know what classes to take. He pointed out my natural gifts and talents when I didn’t think I had any.”
“There’s more than one reason your mother calls me the apostle Paul. When I was young, I resisted God’s call. I was a rebel. My dad forced me into a box so I fled. I’d turned my back on God altogether until I was in a motorcycle accident and fell in love with my nurse. But she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. That’s when I looked inside. Tried to figure out why.”
He chuckled. “And there it was all the time, the call to adventure. Only not motorcycles, but Africa. I guess that’s why I never tried to interfere with your life. I didn’t want to push you to rebel, like my dad did me.” Sadly, Dad swirled the shallow contents of his cup. “I guess I gave you too long of a leash. And I certainly didn’t expect a stranger to step in and do what I tried not to do.”
“I guess the leash was so long I didn’t realize it existed. I felt alone in a big world. Bigger than most kids’. I didn’t have a backyard to play in. I had a jungle. You know?”
Mom stared into her cup.
“Just don’t make the same mistake I did,” Dad replied, “and run from your calling just because your father didn’t do his job right.”
“And …” Mom shot Dad a stern look.
“And … God’s been nudging me to come to you. I didn’t know why until I got here. But now I understand. I need your forgiveness for how I’ve treated you.”
Fletch hadn’t hoped for affection from the man who never showed him the acceptance he craved. But when it came, it deeply moved him. It carried something divine in it that couldn’t be denied. He was ready to forgive. Ready to find healing. He went to his dad. Opened his arms.
Dad gripped him in an ironlike embrace.
Fletch whispered, “I forgive you.”
“I love you,” Dad said, releasing him and clapping his shoulders.
There was more shoulder clapping and bear hugs and manly sniffles, and finally Fletch realized that some of them were feminine, too. He went to his mom and gently embraced her.
“Love you, Mom.”
When they’d finished, Fletch sank back to the floor, clasping his bent knees and swiping his arm across his eyes. “Thanks for coming home.”
“Well!” Mom exclaimed. “Tomorrow is job hunting. Won’t that be fun!” And with that, they all fell to laughing and yawning and getting their beds in order.
But Fletch couldn’t fall asleep. First of all, Dad snored. Secondly, if God had blessed him by healing the rift he’d always felt toward his dad, then maybe he needed to take what his dad had told him to heart. The part about searching his soul and hearing his calling.
Had he ever really done that, or had he just assumed Marshall’s guidance was right for him? He had never questioned Marshall until lately. Had he been rejecting his dad, or had he been rejecting God’s calling? He plumped his pillow and turned to his side. And what about Lil? Would she be patient while he sorted through this? She was a girl who’d always known what she wanted. What would she think of his uncertainty?
CHAPTER 34
Lil blew her bangs out of her eyes, not wanting to reposition her bobby pins, because then she’d have to wash her hands again. The pins were no good, too loose. She might as well toss them in the trash. She was going over her supply list one final time because yesterday they’d run low on mozzarella cheese and had to skimp.
“Hi, Lil.” Megan now had the run of the restaurant, being given the VIP treatment every time she popped over from nearby Char Air.
Lil looked up. “Is it one o’clock already?”
“Yep. I just have five minutes though, because I have to run some errands for the boss.”
Lil glanced up, forever searching her friend’s expression at the mention of her good-looking, off-limits boss. But Megan had become good at concealing her feelings about him.
Megan sniffed with pleasure. “Got a doggie bag for me?”
Lil yelled over her shoulder, “Elaine! Bag some spaghetti for me?”
“What time will you be home tonight?”
“I’ll be late. Fletch came over last night and invited me to go to dinner at his boss’s.”
Megan made an ugly face. “Another dinner? The last one had you in a funk for over a week.”
“I know. But Vic’s never asked him before. And Fletch wants to talk to me about something. I’m thinking it must be something good. He wouldn’t take me to his boss’s to break up with me, right?”
Megan leaned on the counter. “He’s not going to break up. He loves you.”
“It’s rocky right now. You know that.”
Elaine brought the doggie bag, and Megan thanked her. “He’s probably going to apologize for his behavior the last couple of weeks. Sorry. I’ve gotta go.”
Lil had just started concentrating on her list again when she heard the hostess take a reservation for a large party of Ranco customers. The back room would have to be prepared. She was going to have to hustle to make her date.
Lil felt dazzled from the moment she stepped into the softly lit foyer of the Fullers’ two-story, track home and handed her coat to Britt. The other woman wore a jean skirt that skimmed her knees and a pink sw
eater set. She had silver hoop earrings that flashed in and out of her dark bob. Soft, side-swept bangs fringed expressive brown eyes. She still carried some of her baby fat from her last child, but it softened her in a pleasing way, as did her generous smile. “Come into the kitchen. I have some appetizers. If we don’t get to them soon, the kids will.”
They moved past a magazine-worthy living room and stepped into a tiled, open area that served as kitchen, breakfast nook, and family room. Vic motioned Fletch to a sectional where he was watching a sports game on the television.
Fletch squeezed Lil’s hand, and she whispered, “Go ahead. I’m fine.”
Britt called to her husband, “Vic! Why don’t you turn the TV off?”
“Oh.” The thin, redheaded vet shot Lil a contrite expression and reached for the remote. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to do that on my account,” Lil said. “But thanks for the offer.”
“You sure?” he asked, looking to his wife for validation.
Britt shrugged, and Vic returned the remote to the side table.
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, just pull up a barstool. Only, I can’t believe I’m cooking for you. Vic told me you’re head chef at Volo Italiano.”
Lil shifted in the stool. “Where I was on my feet all day. But then, I suppose you were, too.”
Taking the sour cream container from the refrigerator, Britt replied, “Not all day. I shuffled the boys off to school, did two loads of laundry, and some dinner preparations. But before I had to pick them up again, I watched my favorite reality show. I tape it and treat myself each—I’m sorry.” She dropped the sour cream lid on the counter and shook her head. “I’m as bad as Vic. Watching television isn’t all we do. I mean—”
“Please,” Lil interrupted. “I’m in your home. I understand that most people watch television. In fact, a lot of restaurants have them, too. Although the church I attend doesn’t allow them, I’ve broken the rules a few times.”
Britt added the sour cream to her stroganoff, turned off the burner, and stirred the sauce until it was blended. She whispered, “Don’t tell the kids, but I’ve been known to bend a few, too.”
Plain City Bridesmaids Page 61