by Dana Corbit
He accepted the phone, covering the mouthpiece with his fingers. “Thanks. I’ll take this in my room.”
Chelsea started down the hall and then turned back. “Can I have some more enchiladas?”
Alex nodded. When she disappeared around the corner, he went into his room and closed the door. Only after he’d taken a seat on his bed did he finally speak into the handset. “Hey, Dinah.”
“So you really haven’t dropped off the face of the earth,” she answered in a tone he hadn’t heard before.
“Why would you say that?” His chuckle sounded forced in his ears.
“Oh, I’d been just kind of wondering how you were.”
Alex frowned at the phone. She easily could have said, because he’d been avoiding her for the last three days, but it just wasn’t in her to be confrontational. She probably wasn’t even comfortable being the one to call him, but he’d put her in that awkward position by not calling as he’d said he would.
“Hey, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. It’s been crazy around here the last few days.”
“Is everything okay with Karla? She hasn’t had a setback, has she?”
Her question only made him feel guiltier. Even when she had every reason to be angry with him, her first concern was still for his sick cousin. He filled her in on the details about Karla’s infection and even Mike’s delay. He didn’t bother to tell her about his argument with Brandon because it would sound like overkill. And just another excuse.
“I’m so sorry, Alex. I’ll keep you all in my prayers. You’ve had all of this to deal with, and here I was worrying about—Oh, forget it.”
He could almost picture Dinah shaking her head, her fair skin coloring with her embarrassment, and he hated himself for being the heel who’d made her feel that way.
“I should have called,” he blurted. He probably sounded like a million other guys in the history of dating, guys who should have called and, for whatever reasons, good or bad, hadn’t.
“I did sort of think we’d made plans for dinner or something.”
“Yeah, we did, but—I don’t know. With everything that’s been going on…” He let his words trail away, not sure what else to say.
“I would have understood.”
Dinah was right. She would have understood or at least tried to, even if the situation wasn’t crystal clear for him. He wasn’t sure how to explain it to her, but he had to try.
“It’s just that the other night when we were talking, I started thinking.”
“Thinking. That could be a good thing.” She paused before adding, “Or not.”
He cleared his throat, searching for the right words. “Well, things between us seem to be developing quickly. Maybe too quickly.”
For several seconds she said nothing, but when she spoke again, it was in a small voice. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s just that the timing…Well, it isn’t the best.”
“I know that things have been tough for you at home with caring for Chelsea and Brandon and your worries over Karla and—”
“No, it’s more than that,” he said to interrupt her. “I don’t even know who I am or where I’m going.”
“I see.”
“You do?” How could she when he’d done such a bad job of explaining himself? “Maybe…later. There are just some things I need to figure out. Brandon helped convince me of it tonight. Until I know the answers, I can’t be with you. Or anyone.”
Again there was a long pause. “You say that as if we had a relationship or anything more significant than a few dates. We haven’t made any promises.”
Her words took him aback. No, they hadn’t made any promises, but he’d wanted to, and he’d suspected that she might, as well. Someday. When the time was right.
“I guess I misunderstood,” he told her.
“I guess you did.”
The conversation ended quickly after that with polite words but no warmth. Dinah even made a point to have him tell Chelsea she would see her at school in the morning. It was another reminder, as if he needed any more, that a boundary between them had been drawn.
Alex stared at the handset after he clicked it off, and then he dropped it on the mattress. The finality of the things they’d said pressed like a car sitting on his chest. His arms ached to hold her, but he was only clinging to air.
That he’d misinterpreted her feelings for him was just another miscalculation in a life filled with gaffes.
“It’s just as well,” he whispered. Though his heart disagreed, the point was moot. He’d thought he needed to step away to get his life in order. He’d gotten what he wanted but to the nth degree, and he would just have to deal with it.
Maybe later he could try again with Dinah. Maybe he could convince her that there really was something between them, something worth pursuing.
Alex shook his head to push away the thought. He couldn’t think about that now. He was juggling so many issues already, and the story concerning his birth would only be one more.
But it was time.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” The verse from Ecclesiastes appeared in his thoughts. He wasn’t even the Scripture-quoting type, though it was one of those things he liked about Dinah. Still, the words spoke to him now.
The time had come for him to find the answers to his questions regarding his birth. He simply couldn’t go forward with a relationship—or even with his life—until he learned the truth.
Crossing to his bureau, he retrieved his wallet and pulled out Ross Van Zandt’s business card. Ross had written his home number on the back. Ross had said it was okay to contact him, day or night, so Alex hoped it had been a serious offer. A glance at the bedside clock announced it was nearing Chelsea’s bedtime, so he waffled on whether it was something that could wait until morning.
Haven’t you waited long enough?
Alex returned to the bed, grabbed the phone that he’d tossed aside and dialed.
Dinah lowered the phone into its cradle but didn’t immediately release the handset. When she realized her jaw had gone slack, she clamped it shut, lowering herself to sit on the bed and letting her hand fall away from the phone.
She felt numb. Though she’d suspected that Alex was pulling away when he hadn’t called, to hear it with her own ears made it painfully real. For the last two days, she’d been telling herself he would have some reasonable explanation for not calling, and everything would be fine. He didn’t, and it wasn’t.
Dinah hated the way the backs of her eyes burned, hinting at tears she couldn’t let herself cry. She hated being a silly woman who’d let a few wonderful weeks matter too much. They weren’t even a couple yet. Not really.
Just as she’d told him, they’d only shared a few dates. Too bad her heart had taken the situation a lot more seriously than was wise. She hadn’t lied when she’d pointed out to him that they’d made no promises, but she’d chosen not to say that her heart had made some commitments all on its own.
Alex had offered all kinds of reasons for backing away from her. Though they’d all sounded like excuses to her, she wondered if, perhaps, he hadn’t mentioned the biggest excuse at all.
No, he hadn’t come out and said it, but she suspected all the same that this was about her family.
It felt like some cruel déjà vu from her romantic history. He’d once indicated that it didn’t matter to him that she was a preacher’s daughter, or at least he’d asked why it should have mattered. Now it was clear that it had.
At once, snippets of their conversation from Sunday night drifted into her thoughts.
“What were you thinking?” she said in a low voice that wavered more than she would have liked.
At the time, sharing those stories about Bill and the other mishaps of her dating history had seemed so natural. She’d wanted him to really know her, to understand her. When he’d returned the favor by sharing stories of his own past, it had felt like such a gift. They’d
connected on a deeper, more personal level, or at least so she’d thought.
Why hadn’t she considered what Alex might read into her sharing those stories? Why hadn’t she realized that he might think she was giving him some sort of subliminal message to warn him he’d better have honorable intentions? Had he thought that? Alex hadn’t said so, but her instincts told her this was where his distance had stemmed from, and her history told her to trust her instincts.
Besides, if he had come to that conclusion, would he have been right? Just a little bit? She couldn’t deny the truth in it, here in the privacy of her own thoughts. Though their relationship had been new and as fragile as a seedling, she’d secretly prayed for deep roots. For permanence.
With a moan of frustration, Dinah flopped back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. She lifted her hands from her cheeks, surprised when they came away wet.
“No,” she said aloud, shaking her head. She wouldn’t cry, at least not more than she already had.
Dinah sat straight up in the bed, planting her hands on the mattress on either side of her. She’d had it. As sick to death as she’d become of losing yet another boyfriend because she was the minister’s daughter, this time she was just as fed up with apologizing for the family she loved.
She was a Fraser. She was proud to be Reverend John and Naomi Fraser’s daughter. She understood now that the role she shared with Jonah and Ruth as the preacher’s children was a blessing, not a challenge, as she’d previously believed. Her parents were wonderful role models, living their faith every day of the week rather than just Sunday mornings.
Being a part of a preacher’s family came with certain expectations and responsibilities, and any person marrying her would buy into both of those. Maybe she used to pity that guy, but she was so over it.
Tough toenails!
She supposed she should thank Alex. He’d helped her to realize that any man who couldn’t see how wonderful the Fraser family was, who couldn’t picture himself as a part of the family’s important work, didn’t deserve her or them. That man wouldn’t be the one God intended for her. Even if he happened to be Alex.
Dinah tried to ignore the fresh stab of pain in her chest over the finality of that thought. Not the death of a relationship, really, but of the possibility, of the hope. It was all in the past now. They were in the past. He’d chosen it; she had to accept it. She couldn’t let herself cling to the empty promises he’d made with words like maybe and later. He’d probably only used them to soften the blow, like a breakup where the couple promises to stay friends.
Clearly, God had other plans for her—and for him, too, though she found it difficult to think charitably today. She needed to stop thinking about the situation altogether. Instead, she should focus on the important things in her life, like her students and her church. She could probably increase her volunteer time at the youth center and even find another project at the church.
She would stay busy and let God take care of the rest. She could only hope along the way He would heal her broken heart.
Chapter Fourteen
A lex’s second visitor of the day entered Station Four Friday morning even before his first guest had left. His chest tightening, Alex came to his feet behind the long table to greet the older gentleman he’d come to respect so much.
“Good morning, Reverend Fraser.” He stepped around the table to offer his hand. “Is there something I can do for you?”
What he’d really wanted to ask was how Dinah was. Days without hearing from or seeing her had felt more like weeks. If there was nothing between them, then why did he feel so alone without her there?
“I don’t want to interrupt,” Reverend Fraser said. “I see that you have a guest.”
Ross Van Zandt, who’d been sitting across from Alex and with his back to the door, turned and came up from his seat. “You go ahead, Reverend. We were all finished here, anyway.” Turning back to the table, he picked up a file folder and tucked it back in his briefcase.
“Oh, hello, Ross.” The two men shook hands. “I thought that was your SUV I saw outside. It looks as good as new.”
“Except for a few scratches, it probably is. I thought about leaving it how it was, with a built-in fresh air vent in the front, but Kelly insisted on having a windshield.”
The minister chuckled and then looked back and forth between the two younger men. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
“A business association.” Ross clutched the briefcase against his chest and his gaze darted to Alex, but he didn’t add to his vague comment.
As much as he appreciated Ross shielding his privacy, Alex no longer minded sharing the secret. “My birth records were some of the ones Barnaby Harcourt buried in the walls of his house.” He shrugged. “My parents adopted me through Tiny Blessings.”
“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Reverend Fraser used his thumb to push his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and studied the younger man. “Regarding the records, I can’t decide whether to offer my congratulations or my condolences. It must have been a shock to learn about it.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” But rather than go into all those details, he decided to focus on the present. “Anyway, I think it’s a matter for celebration. Ross here just gave me the name of the woman who could be my birth mother.”
“That is a blessing.” With a gentle wave of his hand, Reverend Fraser encouraged the other two men to return to the table and to sit with him. “So have you located the woman whose name is on the birth records?”
The minister addressed the question to both men, but Ross answered for them. “Oh, no, not yet. We’re just starting on this file.” He indicated Alex with a tilt of his head. “I just got the go-ahead.”
“I had to think about it,” Alex said with a shrug.
“It’s always good to proceed with caution,” the minister said. “Have you already determined whether the birth mother still lives in Chestnut Grove?”
“She’s not in the White Pages, if that’s what you mean,” Ross said with a smile. “We haven’t ruled out that the woman could live in this area, but these records are well over thirty years old. We’re assuming it’s a maiden name.”
“Well, go ahead and try me.”
Both of the other men looked over at him, but Alex spoke up for them this time. “Try you for what?”
“Tell me the name and pick my brain on it. Unlike you two newcomers, I’m a fixture in Chestnut Grove. Maybe I’ll be able to help.”
“I don’t know,” Ross began. “We haven’t even proven the validity of the records yet. If we do find her and she is the birth mother, she still might not want to have any contact—” He stopped and shot an uncomfortable look at Alex.
If she decided not to have anything to do with him, Alex wasn’t sure how he would handle it, but he decided not to go there just yet. “Ross, I think we can trust Reverend Fraser to keep the details quiet until we know for sure. He is a member of the clergy, after all.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”
Ross started to reach for his briefcase he’d set at his feet, but before he could open it, Alex withdrew the pad of sticky notes he’d stowed in his pocket. On the now-crumpled top sheet was a name, the name of the woman who might have given him life. Holding the pad in the palm of his hand, he placed it in the minister’s hand.
“Cynthia Harcourt?” He pushed up his glasses and read it again.
“Don’t tell me, she’s your next-door neighbor, and you can call her right now,” Ross said sardonically.
“That sure would make it simple, wouldn’t it?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t know the young woman. But her last name is certainly familiar. The Harcourts have been a powerful family in Chestnut Grove for generations.”
“Kelly and I picked up on that one right away,” Ross said.
Alex raised his hand. “And even I know all about the Harcourt mansion. We’ve been out there responding to a fire alarm. It turned
out to be a false alarm.”
“Did you also know that Harcourt was one of the more common surnames on the Eastern Seaboard?” Reverend Fraser’s eyebrows shifted behind his glasses. “I thought not. There are a lot of Harcourt families all over Virginia, and many of them aren’t related—at least not closely.”
Ross held his hands wide. “So it’s a needle in a haystack. My favorite type of investigation.”
Alex felt like a human balloon that was being deflated. First, Dinah, and now this. What next, a fire at the shopping mall? “After all this time, now we probably won’t even be able to find her.” He tried not to think about how unfair it was because he’d learned a long time ago that life wasn’t fair.
“No, I wouldn’t say that,” Reverend Fraser told him. “Not when you have Harcourts right here in town. Neal and Helene have offered to do anything they can to help make up for Barnaby’s crimes. They might not know who this Cynthia Harcourt is, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.”
Ross grinned at both of them as he came to his feet. “It’s a place to start, anyway. I’d better get going on it, so I’ll leave you two to…”
With a gesture of his hand, Ross indicated the minister, who’d never told them why he’d come. Shaking both of their hands, Ross left through the side door that led first to the open vehicle bays and then to the parking lot.
When Alex turned back to John Fraser, he was smiling after Ross. “He was already planning to talk to Neal and Helene before I suggested it.”
“Probably. He’s a smart guy.” He narrowed his gaze at the man sitting across from him. “But I don’t think you came here to talk about Ross. Is this something about this year’s toy drive?”
When he shook his head, Alex’s stomach tightened. Had something happened to Dinah? Was she okay?
“It’s about Dinah,” he said as if he’d heard Alex’s thoughts. “She’s suffering from a broken heart. I thought I would come to the source.”
The source? Alex couldn’t wrap his mind around that thought, so he focused on the other thing the minister said, something equally perplexing.