by LoRee Peery
She turned right into his arms without his asking.
He moved and wrapped her up close.
“My job is what I want,” she mumbled against his chest. Then in the barest of whispers she said, “But I like being here at home too.”
“Follow your heart, dear one.”
She leaned back and made eye contact. Her eyes were flooded with tears.
“Just one thing. I’d follow you anywhere you’re led to be. Now that you’re in my life again, you’d carry half my heart if we were apart.” More like ninety percent, but he wasn’t ready to let her know that.
Could she value him more than her fancy job?
He couldn’t resist, and bent his head.
She stretched.
He zeroed in on her full lips, wanting nothing more than to taste them.
She gave that cute little moan again and closed her eyes.
A hair away from their lips finally meeting, the front door opened.
10
Blythe’s inclination to burst into laughter at their second interrupted intimate moment faded before it hit her throat.
Dad limped in, leaning heavy on his cane. Neither he nor Mom bothered taking off their boots.
She hurried to get the pillow to prop up Dad’s leg.
Mom led him to his chair.
Werner secured the front door. He even grabbed paper towels to wipe wet snow spots on the wood floor. What a guy.
Her phone signaled a text. Now what? So quiet one moment and then everything happened at once.
She tossed the pillow and then went to her phone still on the kitchen counter.
Werner helped both her parents out of their coats and put them on hangers in the front closet.
Blythe took it all in, warmed by his thoughtfulness. Then she looked at her phone. “That creep.”
Werner scowled. “Who?”
“My ex.” She ground her teeth and swiped. I hear you’ve been called back to the home office. I can’t wait to see you. She wasn’t about to answer.
Mom opened the freezer door for ice packs. “What does he want?”
Blythe wouldn’t look at Werner to gauge his reaction. “To see me.”
The sound of her phone made her jump. Him again. Where are you? The Balkan Islands? Hahaha.
“The jerk.” She clenched her jaw.
Dad growled. “Can’t you block his number or something?”
“We’re kind of in the same business, so I kept his info in my phone.”
Another signal. The finest months of my life were spent with you.
Blythe tilted the phone so Werner could read the text.
He nudged her shoulder. “I can’t believe this guy. Is he still with the woman who took your place?”
“No idea. I don’t know why he’s doing this either.” She moved to delete the messages, but another ran across the screen.
I’d give up most anything for another chance with you, B.
Blythe’s thumb flew as it tapped the screen. What’s with you? I don’t believe you’re done with her. You texted and called her while we were still together. Leave me alone. She flipped over her cell.
Werner covered her hand where it rested on the deep, rose-colored phone case. “You’re probably right if that’s his pattern. He may very well be doing the same thing. Flirting with you while dating her.”
Mr. Twain bounded up from his basket near the fireplace and streaked across the kitchen to the laundry room.
Within seconds, flashes of light outside the sliding doors brightened the deck.
Blythe made eye contact with Werner and read bafflement in his expression.
Thunder boomed.
Mom squealed.
Dad roused. “What in tarnation?”
“I’ve got to see this.” Werner reached for Blythe’s hand and led her toward the window overlooking the deck.
The sky lit up again.
“I’m not going out there.”
Dad chuckled. “Third week of December. Twenty degrees. Flashes of lightning. The thunder rolls. Only in Nebraska.”
Within five minutes, the wind howled.
Jagged balls of sleet hit the glass.
Blythe jumped. “I’ve seen nothing like this in Barbados or Antigua, that’s for sure.”
Mom spoke from behind Blythe, who didn’t know her mom stood so close. “Aren’t you glad you’re here? Look what you would have missed if you were on an island somewhere.”
Just like that, she remembered. Blythe reached back and put her arm around Mom’s shoulder then rested her head so their temples touched. “It’s been a crazy half hour. I forgot to tell you. I have to leave for Atlanta.”
~*~
Werner rose blurry eyed and sleep deprived. Weighted, he imagined his heart as ugly as a muddy robin’s nest blown to the ground by last night’s storm. Hollowed out and jagged around the edges.
He’d been awake and listened as Blythe left her room, took the stairs, and rolled her travel bag to the door. Noise came from the kitchen as well, so either she fixed herself something to eat, or Bette Jean was doing the mom-thing. The shuttle pulled into the drive, the engine rumbling as it idled. Tempted to go to the window, he’d clenched his teeth, fisted hands at his sides, and angry at the single tear that traveled his cheek as much as anything.
“God, why did she have to go? I can’t believe it’s Your will for her to leave Nebraska for Atlanta. She’s not a southern girl. Blythe is a small-town sweet thing who needs to come home and stay.”
Oh, what he’d imagined through the dark hours of night. He and Blythe, side by side, hand in hand, gliding on the trail. Through every season, they’d glory in what God displayed in nature. The early budding trees of spring, the smell of rain cooling their sweaty brows on a hot summer day. Then during his favorite season, autumn, where the brilliant changing colors gilded the world around them.
With Blythe no longer in the picture, the next time he took a walk, he’d be alone.
I will never leave you nor forsake you.
“Forgive me, Father. I know You are with me always. Be with Blythe. Reveal Your great love to her.”
A half hour later, he smelled breakfast. Ross stood in the middle of the kitchen, one hand on his walker. He pointed to the fridge with his other, which held a coffee mug. “We’re on our own. Bette Jean got up early and fixed an omelet so Blythe had good food in her. My wife’s in the auto shop now. She plans to bring the appointment calendar home and hopes to be able to forward calls here.”
“I’ll be on my own then?”
“You’ll manage. You’ve got God on your side.” Ross set his mug in the sink and got ice for himself. “I’ll roll out of your way.”
Werner opened the cupboard for a plate, helped himself to what was left of the oven dish in the fridge, and manned the microwave. The odor of sausage and peppers at least woke up his sense of smell. He leaned against the counter as he ate in order to talk shop with Ross.
Anything but think of Blythe, yet she was ever on his mind.
He soon finished and cleaned up his dishes.
“There’s a thermal go-cup in the cabinet above the fridge. Bette Jean figured you’d rather have this coffee than mess with the maker in the shop.”
“Your wife is one thoughtful woman. I hope to be so blessed someday.”
Ross released an audible sigh. “I hear ya. I was actually hoping the Eiseley sell-out thing was a blessing in disguise. That Blythe would stay here and you two would get romantic. Guess it’s not in the cards.”
There it was. Out in the open. If someone else saw the futility, his own dreams were dashed to pieces.
“Send that woman of mine home, would ya? I hate to admit it, but I still fear losing my balance and falling. I don’t want to be alone.”
At that very second, Bette Jean dashed through the door, bringing in a cold draft of air. “Goodness me, I’m getting spoiled by spending so much time indoors. As much as I like fresh air, it’s cold outside.”
Werner zipped up his coat, donned hat and gloves, and wrapped his fingers around the go-cup. “Thanks for breakfast, and the coffee. It’s December in Nebraska, you know. Supposed to be cold for Christmas.”
Bette Jean shook her head. “I sure had looked forward to having our baby here with us again this year. Guess it wasn’t meant to be. Werner, I printed off a sign and taped it to the inside of the window. The shop number is there as well as instructions to ring the buzzer outside the middle overhead. That camper came in. How he managed over these roads, I don’t know. Anyway, the keys were in the drop box. I labeled them and put them on the hook for you."
Werner entered the gray day. He stepped onto the sidewalk just in time for a cardinal to land in the bare redbud tree. The bird looked right at him, tipped a wing as if shrugging, and his mate shot to a lower branch. She lifted her wing twice then stilled.
Why did the gift of spying cardinal pairs show up for him while Blythe yearned to see them land in front of her? “Why, Lord?”
They flew off.
The first thing he saw inside the office door at Travis Auto was his mini cardinals where Blythe had left them next to the computer screen.
How in the world would he get through the day without her at work with him, visible through the open door?
His mouth drooped. How would she take it if she knew he sensed her watching him?
~*~
Blythe replayed her phone frustration of the night before. If she wasn’t speeding east to the Omaha airport, she’d follow the urge to dig her fingers into her eyes. She slid her left hand over her forehead and through the ends of her hair. Her shoulders felt as solid with tension as the frozen interstate outside.
Last night, she’d spent twenty-five minutes on the phone. Her charge card with Eiseley was no longer in force. A recording announced the phone number for the travel assistant was no longer in service. She’d called the airlines herself. Due to the holidays, an open plane seat was next to impossible to obtain. Finally, she found one. At her expense.
Fifty minutes since she left Edgewood, the first airport sign read it was three miles to the exit. Her mental battle raged on. What was she doing? She didn’t have a job waiting in Atlanta, but the new owner wanted her to clear out her office. The employer who’d rewarded her with the necklace Werner found had sold out. The necklace meant nothing to her now. What did Werner mean to her?
Her parents weren’t ahead of her in Atlanta to spend Christmas with. They were behind her.
She’d never made that swanky, upbeat condo apartment home. The furnishings were expensive and cold, most not even her choice in personal decorating items.
Though he was pestering her, the infamous ex no longer mattered. He’d moved on, and she wanted to keep it that way. That man had never meant home to her. He’d never wanted to visit Nebraska and meet her parents.
What about Werner? Ah, what about him? Her parents had become like parents to him. As for Blythe, without Werner, she felt alone.
All she could imagine for fulfillment, all her love of home, and any hope of a meaningful future lay beyond the miles she’d just traveled.
The driver took the airport exit.
Blythe longed for nothing more than to ask him to circle around and get right back on the interstate headed the way she’d just come from. Headed back home.
No. The business in Atlanta had to come first, no matter what faced her. Even if that included her despicable ex.
Like Werner’s philosophy, what will be, will be.
11
Back in Atlanta, Blythe yawned as the cab driver lifted her bag from the trunk. She handed him a cash tip in exchange. “Thank you. Merry Christmas.”
He tapped the brim of his cap. “Same to you, Miss.”
She ran her eye over the renovated high-rise on Peachtree Street. The bronze plate proclaimed the building was on the Registry for Historic Places. Had she ever appreciated the history? Nope. She’d been drawn to the pricy, up-style location, and only moved in due to pressure from her ex, who had a place higher than hers, closer to the penthouse. A doorman greeted her, and she took in the gold and green, ornate frescoed ceiling. She rolled her suitcase across inlaid marble and then punched the elevator button.
Off on the seventh floor, she entered her condo. Immediately, the contrast struck her. Compared to Mom’s home, this place was stark and cold, despite original oil paintings. Unwelcoming. Not that she lounged around much in her expensive digs. She spent most of her time on her phone or laptop. Once in a while, she’d watch a movie.
Mom’s messy living area always felt cozy with handmade blankets and decorated pillows. Hayley had given Pastor Gregg’s house the feminine touch, filling the former bachelor pad with love. However, at the moment, floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to her screened balcony called for respite where she could breathe.
She unzipped the outside pocket of her tote where she’d stuck her phone and felt the binding of a book. A soft teal cover read, Peace in My Presence.
Mom had slipped a devotional Christmas gift in Blythe’s travel tote. She pressed the perfect-sized book against her heart. “Just what I need.”
While waiting for water to heat for tea, she opened to the ribbon bookmark, where in Mom’s handwriting, she read. The song of a cardinal in winter reminds me of Isaiah 1:18—“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”
Mom must have been influenced by Werner.
“Oh, no. I left his gift of mini cardinals at the garage office.”
She wiped her eyes and carried her stress-formula tea to the balcony where she set the mug on a white woven table. Rather than sit, she stepped to the window and stared at the courtyard below. A bird flew up from the winter king hawthorn tree and landed on the ledge to Blythe’s right. A female cardinal with a red berry in its orange beak.
Where was her red mate? Blythe tried to move only her eyes so she wouldn’t startle the bird.
Breathless moments passed. No crimson male appeared.
The female cocked her head and looked directly at Blythe. The pretty capped creature seemed to be asking her what she was doing.
What was she doing? Here on the balcony, here in Atlanta, so far from home?
The bird opened her beak and the berry dropped. Impossible, but did the cardinal whisper Werner’s name? Then she lifted her wings in what looked like extreme effort, and flew off.
For some reason, the single bird brought tears to her eyes. Blythe searched below, in the tree branches and all around the sky for the red streak of wings. No male cardinal showed.
Werner. What if he sighted a bright red bird without its mate? He claimed to see them in pairs.
Blythe moved back. At the touch of the bench against her calves, she sagged. Her separation from Werner and the plight of the lonely female cardinal struck her at the same time.
She was alone. Probably without a job. Away from her parents. No future, and without a mate of her own.
Her cell signaled a text, but Blythe ignored the intrusion. She dipped her teabag, took a healthy sip of the spicy licorice, and opened the devotional.
I have never deserted you.
Ah. Her soul sighed. “Forgive me, Father. You are ever present. Thank You.” She opened her Bible, sipped more tea, and read until unexplainable peace filled her to overflowing.
Her doorbell pealed. She picked up her mug and left it on the cold counter on her way to peer through the peephole.
Ex held an orange tote with the lucky bamboo he’d given her in the shape of a heart.
She opened the door. “What are you doing with the plant from my office?”
He shouldered through the door. “It’s no longer your office. I have all personal items with strict instructions not to hand them over until you give me the keycard.”
How could she have thought him appealing? Not a blond hair was out of place. His sandy sideburns were cut with unchanged precision. He’d removed
the jacket to a finely striped slate suit that cost more than Dad made in two months at the garage.
She crossed her arms. Swallowed bile.
He got rid of the tote, carried the bamboo to the counter, and then turned with his hand open.
Her useless keycard was in a pocket of her purse. Neither spoke as she retrieved it. She refused to meet his gaze as she slapped it in his hand.
“All you needed to do was come back at the very first text.”
She jerked around. “My parents needed me.”
“Well, as associate vice president of Roberts Resorts, I needed you to let me know face to face where you wanted to be placed in the reorganized management.”
“You could have called.” This was a blessing in disguise. She refused to work with the man in front of her. “How many Eiseley employees did you keep?”
He tapped his ridiculously expensive watch. “None. But you’ll all be highly recommended in references. Plus, there’s a nice severance in your checking account.”
She went to the door and held it open for him. She slammed the bamboo into the trash, and then deleted his contact info from her phone.
It took seventy minutes to go through her vast walk-in closet and separate what was worth keeping and what could be donated. The warmest clothing she owned filled her international bag on wheels. It was time to clear her head outside.
Clouds had replaced any blue in the Georgia sky. She wandered through silent throngs of people, where very few met her eye, let alone answered her smile. Smiling proved more refreshing than body movement. Rather than a heavy heart, she sang inside.
She recognized none of the nameless people who now huddled under umbrellas of all colors. Rush hour. They were leaving work for transportation home, be it feet, wheels, or rails. A hustle and bustle that she was done with.
Blythe wiped a tear at the clarity, as though a proverbial film had been removed from her eyes. Atlanta was not her home on earth. Her home was back in Edgewood, Nebraska.
Hair now plastered to her neck, she shut her eyes, faced the sky, and drank in the kiss of the rain against her skin. Lighter than air, her soul took flight.