“Jo … I hope we’ve both done a lot of growing up in the last couple of years.”
She nodded. “I hope we have too. We’ll talk more, I promise. But right now I … I really need to go inside before my sister starts worrying.”
Ben looked confused, but he didn’t argue.
She opened her door and climbed from the car, bending to wave at him. “Thank you for the evening.”
“I’ll call you?” It was a question.
But she only nodded in reply, closing the car door.
She turned and picked her way up the uneven walk to Britt’s cabin in the dark, overwhelmed by sadness, and feeling more disappointed than she could remember in a very long time. And not just in the way the evening had turned out. Disappointed in herself.
CHAPTER 29
JOANNA WOKE THE NEXT MORNING to the roar of a truck crunching down the lane toward the construction site of Quinn and Phee’s new home. She rolled over to look at the flea market clock on the nightstand, which read four o’clock. That couldn’t be right. It was light outside and she knew she hadn’t slept the whole day away.
She threw off the covers and went to retrieve her phone from her purse hanging on the knob of the bedroom door. It was a quarter after seven. They’d had a week of temps in the nineties, and no doubt the construction crew wanted to beat the heat.
Joanna padded out to the kitchen where the windows were still propped open from yesterday to let in the cool night air. The early morning breeze was already humid, but Jo left the windows open, hating to run the noisy window air conditioner yet.
She pulled a package of coffee beans from the cupboard, ground the beans, and started a pot of coffee. Once it was brewing, she went into the bathroom and leaned across the clawfoot tub, trying to look out the high window over the tub. But all she could see was the tops of the trees swaying in the breeze. Hanging onto the side of the tub, she climbed inside, the porcelain surface cold on the bottoms of her bare feet.
“Do you always take a bath in your pajamas?”
Jo started at Britt’s groggy voice and turned to see her sister standing in the doorway, her hair sticking out every which way from a loose ponytail holder.
“Sorry. Did the coffee grinder wake you?”
Britt yawned. “I don’t know what it was. But what are you looking at?”
“The construction crew is here already. It looks like they’re pouring the foundation today.” Still clinging to the side of the tub, she peered out to watch a cement mixer churning beside the gaping hole that was—or soon would be—Quinn and Phee’s basement. Quinn stood in front of the crater, directing the driver to its edge, while Mabel, Quinn’s dog, pranced at the cusp of the excavation.
Britt climbed over the edge of the tub, elbowing Jo to one side for a spot at the window.
“Hey, I was here first.” Jo gave her sister a playful shove.
“Wow, it looks like something serious is going to happen today. I was starting to think there was no way that house could be done by Christmas, but maybe it will be after all.”
“Phee thinks it will.”
“That would be so awesome to have Quinn and Phee living here by then. Then Dad would have a real place to stay when he comes home for the holidays.”
“You don’t think the cottage and cabins are real?” Jo teased.
“You know what I mean. He’ll be with family in a house that’s never been rented out.”
“Speaking of which, have you heard a peep out of our guests this weekend? I haven’t seen them since they checked in Thursday night.”
Jo shook her head. “I haven’t, but then it was late when I got in last night.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in.” Her sister took in a breath. “Oh, that’s right. You went out with Ben. How’d it go?”
“It was … okay, I guess.”
“Wow. That’s not exactly a glowing report.”
“No, we had fun. It was nice.” That was all true. But something had been missing. Despite the physical attraction she felt for Ben, it hadn’t been like she’d hoped between them. Even though they seemed to recapture their easy way with each other, it bothered her that he’d been so ready to jump right into the way things had been before they broke up. Without even talking about what had happened.
And her physical reaction to Ben felt like a betrayal of Luke. Which seemed crazy given that Luke had never even tried to kiss her.
Even though she wanted him to. What was wrong with her? Was she so set on having a man—any man—that she would make herself “love” anyone who showed her the least interest?
“It was nice, but … ?” Britt’s voice broke through her conflicted thoughts.
But before she could answer, Phylicia appeared in the bathroom doorway. “What was nice? And why are you two standing in the bathtub?”
“Where’d you come from?” Jo climbed out of the tub and sat on the edge of it.
“I rode along with Quinn. They’re pouring the foundation today.” Phee pointed out the window.
“We saw the trucks.” Britt slid down to sit on the opposite edge of the clawfoot tub, her bare feet still resting inside.
“So what did I miss? It sounded like I was missing out on a good conversation.”
“Jo had a date with Ben last night.”
Jo gave Britt a playful shove. “You little tattletale.”
“Ben Harven?” Phee hopped up on the bathroom counter, swinging her sandal-clad feet.
“Yes, Ben Harven. Good grief. Is that such a big deal?”
“Wow. It kind of is, Jo.” Her older sister spoke softly, her gaze somber. Phee’s expression was so like Mom’s it took Jo aback.
And told her clearly what the real problem was. What she’d known all along but had done her best to ignore. Why, she wasn’t sure. And even now, the reply to her sister was a defensive one. “It was one date, okay? It’s not like I’m going to marry him tomorrow or anything.”
“I know, but why would you go back into that, Jo?” Britt held her hands and feet out in front of her, inspecting her new mani-pedi from the spa.
“Unless Ben has changed.” Phee looked so hopeful, Jo wished she could assure her sister he had changed.
“He has,” she said. “I really think he has.” Maybe she was the one who was stuck.
“I’m glad then.” Phylicia tilted her head. “I always liked Ben. I just didn’t like … how things ended with him. Why it ended with him.”
“No. I didn’t either. And we talked about that.” Until Ben changed the subject.
“Did he apologize?” Britt wasn’t backing down.
“He did.” But the truth was, he’d given more excuses than apologies.
“Good.” Phee nodded, looking thoughtful.
Britt frowned. “His timing sure is funny.”
Phee shot a warning look at their younger sister. “Maybe he’s just been waiting for a little time to pass … you know, since Mom … before he let you know he wanted to get back together.”
“Maybe,” Britt said. “But is he going to drop out of your life every time something hard comes along?”
“Britt. That’s not fair,” Phee scolded.
Britt gave Phee a look that challenged, then turned to Jo. “Sorry. But how can you be sure he won’t?”
Jo held up a hand. “It’s okay. It’s a fair question.”
“But, Jo … what happened with Luke? I thought that was getting serious.”
“She can’t get past the kid … Mateo.”
“I’m right here, Britt.”
“Just filling her in.”
Jo rolled her eyes at her younger sister and turned to her older with a sheepish grin. “I can’t get past the kid … Mateo.”
Phylicia laughed, but her smile faded quickly. “Well, maybe this is God’s answer then … running into Ben.”
“I had that thought.” But the only thought she was having now was that she needed to ask God if Ben was her answer. She’d felt that still, small voice p
rompting her, and she’d ignored it again and again. But she had gotten into too much trouble in her life assuming things. And this was no small matter.
As if Phee had read her mind, she said, “Hang in there, Jo. There’s no rush to get back with Ben. God will show you what to do. Just look at how things worked out with Quinn and me. I didn’t think there was any way. But oh, what I would have missed if I hadn’t let God do the deciding. He knows what’s best for you, Jo. You can trust Him.”
Luke picked up his phone for the third time in an hour and stared at Joanna Chandler’s image in the circle above her phone number on the screen. So many times today, he’d come so close to hitting Send. But what he would say when—if—she answered, he had no idea.
It wasn’t really his place to make the call. The two weeks she’d said she needed—to think and to pray—had come and gone. And he’d heard nothing from her.
Thankfully, the weekend had passed quickly with two DJ gigs, including a wedding last night. Mateo was becoming a big help at these events. Luke got a kick out of seeing him grow more confident, both with helping Luke haul and set up the equipment, and in poise as he interacted with the people attending the events. He was so proud of that kid.
Even though he and Mateo had gone to church and Sunday school this morning, the day had dragged. Tonight, part of him just wanted to call Joanna and get the whole thing over with. But what if that was the end of it? Would that be better than the constant wondering and the infernal hope that she might yet come around?
No, the ball was in her court. She was the one who was uncertain. Luke was only uncertain if she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he’d made promises that he was determined to keep. And he refused to feel guilty about that.
He looked down the hall toward Mateo’s room. The patch of light that had spilled from the partially open door earlier had disappeared, and all was quiet in the apartment.
Luke laid the phone facedown on the kitchen table so those pretty blue eyes wouldn’t cloud his judgment. Joanna had made it crystal clear that Mateo was a deal breaker. Luke didn’t have a choice about the boy being in his life, so why was he wasting his time even thinking about her? Even if he’d never promised Maria that he would take care of her son, Luke couldn’t imagine loving a child of his own more than he loved that kid. He had no desire to go back on his promise. So why couldn’t he let it go at that? Let Joanna go?
And yet somehow, he couldn’t. Because despite her spelling out the vision she had for her life—a husband, a baby, time alone together with her ideal little family—Luke kept picturing Joanna as part of his family. With him and Mateo. It was wishful thinking. It had to be. And yet the images he saw in his mind’s eye were as clear as photographs. And in them, Joanna was smiling, laughing, her arm around Mateo’s shoulder like a mother with a son.
If he was honest with himself, his feelings for Joanna grew stronger every day. There was just something about her that he couldn’t easily brush aside.
He left his phone on the table and walked out to the patio. The flagstones were warm under his bare feet, the air heavy with humidity. Still, his thoughts were always clearer out here beneath the stars.
He turned on the garden hose and filled the fountain, then pulled a few weeds from the edges of a flower bed, remembering the night Joanna had sat in the chaise lounge across from him. Looking up at the night sky through a network of branches and leaves, he whispered a prayer. “Lord, only You know what’s best and right. If it’s not Joanna, please … please take away this longing I have for her. Show me what You want me to do, and give me the strength to do it.”
He wasn’t sure where those last words had come from, but he was afraid the fact that he’d spoken them, almost without thinking, meant he would need strength for whatever was ahead.
CHAPTER 30
JOANNA CLIMBED THE STAIRS TO the office early on a Monday morning and found Trent in the waiting room, shirt sleeves rolled up and sans his usual suit jacket, sorting through old magazines from the trio of coffee tables. He’d apparently been at it for a while as a stack of periodicals overflowed the trash can beside her desk.
“Are you trying to put me out of a job?” she teased.
He waved her off. “Don’t mind me. This is just my form of pacing.”
“Why are you pacing? What’s going on?” It wasn’t like her boss to pace, and it certainly wasn’t like him to bother himself with menial tasks like culling the waiting room magazines. He hadn’t mentioned last Friday that anything out of the ordinary was coming up this week. At least she didn’t think so. But she’d been so bound up in her own confusion that she wouldn’t have sworn to anything.
Even so, it had been a good week and a good weekend. She had finally put everything else aside and taken the time to pray about her situation. She’d prayed while she hung curtains in Far Cottage, and while she painted cabinets in the tiny bathroom there (praying she wouldn’t splatter paint on the quaint checkerboard floor Britt had worked so hard on). She’d prayed while she mixed up dough for cinnamon scones and while they baked, filling the whole cottage with their aroma. She’d prayed in church yesterday, and in the shower this morning. And she’d finally remembered to be still before God, to simply listen for His voice.
She couldn’t say that God had given her any black-and-white answers. But she’d heard His still voice as she read her Bible, and felt His gift of peace. And if she had any direction, it was a compelling sense that she was simply supposed to wait.
Wait. Oh, that had never been an easy thing for her. And yet, it had been in the waiting that she’d found the peace.
She felt mildly guilty because she hadn’t called Luke. And when Ben called to ask her for a date, she’d put him off until “next month.”
He hadn’t seemed too happy about that, but she’d stood her ground. She had her marching orders. And this time, she wouldn’t ignore them.
“—are coming in later this morning.” Trent’s voice cut through her thoughts. “They’ve gotten themselves in another pickle.”
“I’m sorry. Could you say that again?”
“Which part?” Trent squinted and cocked his head at her. “Earth to Joanna …”
“I apologize. It’s Monday. I was … um … back in the weekend.”
“I was just saying that Cinda’s parents are coming in for some … financial counseling. Bob’s trying to figure out how to drink champagne on a beer budget, and Lillian is trying to figure out how to keep her champagne away from Bob.” Her boss rolled his eyes, then studied her with genuine concern. “Is everything okay? You seem a little—”
“Sorry.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Everything’s fine. And I’m sorry about your in-laws. That can’t be easy.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been dealing with it for twenty years. I should be a pro at handling them by now.”
She cleared her throat. “I had planned to do lunch with my sisters today. Is that a problem? Or will you need me?”
Trent straightened his tie and propped his hands on his hips. “What? You three don’t get enough of each other living together? You’ve got to have lunch too? If your sisters are anything like Cinda’s, you must be a glutton for punishment.”
She gave a tentative smile, not sure if he was chiding her or teasing. “We like to get away from the property for planning sessions, but it doesn’t have to be today. I can cancel—”
“No, no, not a problem.” He tamped down the thin pile of magazines remaining after his purge. “In fact, if you want to take a little longer lunch, I’ll probably close the office once they get here … in case Cinda’s dad gets out of control.”
Joanna grimaced. “Out of control? He’s not … dangerous is he?” She’d never met Cinda’s parents, but she’d heard stories about Trent’s father-in-law’s temper. And she couldn’t help but think of the night they’d called her in because Maria Castillo had gone berserk.
“The man is only dangerous to himself. And to their portfolio. He’s all blow and
no go. But the blow part can get pretty loud.”
“Okay … if you’re sure …” She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like something I wouldn’t mind missing.”
“Meanwhile, can you please clear my calendar for anything after eleven? I knew better than to schedule anything after their appointment, but given Bob’s latest uproar, I think I’d better clear out the waiting room before they get here.”
“Sure, I can do that.” It was only a couple of appointments, but she dreaded making those calls. People were never happy about having their appointment delayed, and of course, she would be the one they took out their frustration or disappointment on. It seemed like Trent had been canceling more often recently. Ever since the incident with Mateo’s mother, Jo thought Trent seemed a little … disillusioned. Or maybe burned out was a better term. But it wasn’t her place to say anything. Maybe this thing with Cinda’s parents had been brewing for a while and that was what had him stewing.
By ten o’clock, Joanna had the cancellations confirmed and was caught up with her part of the billing and scheduling. She’d be able to go to lunch with her sisters guilt-free.
When she went down to the lobby at ten till noon, Phee and Britt were waiting in the parking lot in Phee’s car. Grateful for the extra time Trent had allowed her, she climbed into the back seat only to be blasted with Kenny Chesney’s twangy baritone.
“Could you please turn that down?” she shouted. “Phee! How’d you let her talk you into that? In your car.”
Phee laughed. “We’re taking turns. You just have bad timing. Every other song is my choice.”
“Well, please put me in the rotation with a little jazz, would you?”
Still laughing, Phee reached for the radio knob and turned it off. “How about we compromise with some nice silence.”
Joanna leaned back in the seat with an exaggerated sigh. She’d forgotten how crazy her little sister’s country music had made her when they’d lived in the cottage together. Britt had been more thoughtful recently, wearing earbuds whenever Jo stayed with her because the main cottage was rented. But Jo was grateful they’d soon each have their own places to stay when the cottage was in use. Except for the times they rented the two smaller cabins out, and then the tables would be turned—Britt at Jo’s mercy, staying in the cottage with her.
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