Meredith looked away and set about cutting her birthday cake. Before she cut the first slice, she silently sang, Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Meredith, happy birthday to you.
She stood for a moment, wondering what she would wish for if she did, in fact, have candles to blow out. But there were no candles, and she had no wishes. Only guests waiting in the living room for their dessert.
“You know what surprises me,” Helen said, as her fork slid into the cheesecake, “is that you haven’t said one word about Jake’s movie career. You’re the only one I know who seems to be able to ignore that side of his life.”
Meredith sat next to Helen and answered without looking at Jake. “Someone once told me that what you do is simply what you do; it’s not who you are.”
Jake caught her eye as she looked down at her plate. Once again he seemed pleasantly surprised.
“Turned into a philosopher on me now, have you?” Helen said.
Meredith kept her thoughts to herself and took a bite of birthday cheesecake.
“This is very good,” Jake said. “Another island specialty?”
“Yes,” Meredith answered without looking up.
“It’s marvelous,” Helen agreed. “Now let me do my job as Jacob Wilde’s literary agent and brag on him some. Jake’s success with Falcon Pointe didn’t come out of thin air as many of the critics want you to believe. He’s been working steadily in Hollywood for the past five years, but his break came a number of years ago with a pain-reliever commercial that ran longer than any other for that product.”
Helen took a breath, ready to go on with her praises of her client, when Jake cut her off. “It’s all in the bio. I’m sure Meredith can read it over when she has a look at the manuscript proposal.” He kept working on his cheesecake without looking up.
Meredith sensed tension in the air. And it wasn’t necessarily between the client and the agent. Was Jake embarrassed that Helen had gone over his résumé with Meri? Or didn’t he want to divulge anything that could be considered personal to her? Either way, she felt slighted. She could understand his desire to keep his career separate from who he was, and after seeing how he was mobbed in Glenbrooke, Meri honored that. But what good was such a division of life and career when he also chose to keep his life off-limits to others?
“One other tiny, interesting fact isn’t listed in Jake’s bio.” Helen went on bragging about her client the way an overly protective mother brags about her only son at his first piano recital. “Jake plays the bongos. Isn’t that fun? Have you ever known anyone who plays the bongo drums?”
“No, I don’t suppose I have.”
Jake seemed to light up with renewed interest in the conversation. “Did Shelly ever tell you about the bongo fests Brad and I used to have in Pasadena?”
“No, I don’t think she did.” Meredith had casually met Jake’s gaze when he looked up, and now she was having a hard time releasing it. Sitting in the easy chair, he was the antithesis of Guard Man Fred. They were about the same size and filled the chair more or less the same way. But Fred only stared into oblivion. Jake’s eyes were warm, full of life, and, oh, so intriguing. It made her mad.
Why do I feel this way when I look at him? He might as well be a big inflatable dummy for all the heart he seems to have. Why, oh, why am I so attracted to him? It’s not because he’s an actor, is it? No, I was intrigued by him before I knew who he was. I’m just drawn to him. Or, as Jake would say, I’m experiencing a chemical reaction. According to him, I should be able to choose to turn it off right now. So why can’t I?
Jake spoke lightheartedly of the evenings in the backyard when he and Brad donned French berets and spontaneously beat their drums under the California night sky.
It really isn’t fair that I should be struggling with this chemical reaction while he isn’t having one. He’s more excited about playing bongo drums than about me. Is it me? Am I that unappealing?
Meredith knew that wasn’t the case. Dozens of men over the years had testified to her appeal and would have done anything to have her return their affection. She suddenly felt sorry for those men. Now she understood what it was like to be the one having the chemical reaction while the intended recipient of that interest, attention, and affectionate feeling was shut down, dormant, and unresponsive.
She considered for a brief moment sending a letter to each of those men, apologizing for her lack of response when he had opened his heart to her. She would let them know that her aloofness was coming back on her tenfold at this very moment while she sat here with Jacob Wilde, knowing that, to him, she was nothing.
Chapter Sixteen
Helen and Jake left in a flurry when they realized they had to scramble to catch the last ferry off the island. Jake had reservations at a hotel near the airport. He planned to fly down to Eugene at six o’clock in the morning and then drive to Glenbrooke for his early morning meeting with Jonathan and Kyle. Helen had reservations on a red-eye back to New York and left in a panic that she wouldn’t make her plane.
Their hasty good-byes consisted of a kiss on the cheek from Helen, a warm smile and happy-birthday wish from Jake, and a promise from Meri that she would look over the proposal first thing in the morning.
Helen’s rental car peeled out of the driveway, tossing gravel and sounding much louder than anything Meri was used to in her quiet corner of the world. With a sigh, she stood on the porch, watching the moon play peek-a-boo with her through the thin layer of pale clouds. The rain that had threatened to fall earlier was either holding off or had blown over. So the phantom storm left the fainting spring flowers begging for one last drink.
Meredith knew exactly how they felt. It’s one thing not to have rain. You accept that. But when the scent of rain is in the wind and the air is heavy with the promise of moisture, hopes rise. Thirsty souls become expectant. Then the rain never falls.
Meredith had experienced disappointment tonight, too. The hint of romance had come billowing into her life, heavily spicing the air with intrigue. Then it all had blown out the door.
As she stared at the moon, Meredith thought again of the verse she had underlined a few days ago. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” she recited aloud. “And, boy, do I know that is true.”
Maybe it wouldn’t seem so overwhelming if I hadn’t just prayed again tonight for God to prepare and send a man into my life. I’m not trying to be selfish about this, Father God. It’s so that we can do what my dad preached all those years—work together for your kingdom. You said two are better than one. Did you really mean that? Is there really someone out there for me, or am I best suited to be single?
She thought she knew the answer already. To her, single meant Aunt Jane. That wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to become or the kind of life she wanted to lead.
All I have to say, God, is if Jacob Wilde isn’t the man for me, I dare you to find someone better.
Meredith’s hand flew to her mouth and covered it tightly. One shouldn’t go around daring God to do anything, should one?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the cool night air. “I didn’t mean that. I just don’t understand. Why did you wire us frail humans to have all these emotions and deep longings if they’re nothing more than a stupid chemical reaction? You made me this way. Now what am I supposed to do with all this passion and hope?”
Frustrated, Meredith turned on her heels and marched inside, slamming the door behind her. She glanced at the stack of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter and knew she was not going to spend the last hour of her birthday cleaning the kitchen. Instead, she headed for the bathroom, where she took out her contacts, washed her face, pulled back her hair with a wide stretchy headband, and crawled into her favorite pajamas. She stomped back into the kitchen, found herself a diet soda, and made a bag of microwave popcorn. Flopping onto the couch, she switched off the music and turned on the TV. The volume was so loud that poor Elvis nearly jumped from his bowl.
Switching channels until she found an old John Wayne movie, Meredith smiled contentedly to herself and settled in with a fistful of popcorn. Nothing like the Duke’s swagger to take a woman’s mind off her woes. She fell asleep on the couch and didn’t wake up until three-fifteen when a loud commercial roused her. Turning off the noise box, she snuggled under the soft throw comforter and spent the rest of the night on the couch.
Meredith woke at seven-fifteen, stiff and with an aching stomach. She felt awful and wanted to go to bed, this time her own bed. Stumbling out of the living room and into her bedroom, Meredith crawled between the sheets and tried for more than an hour to fall back to sleep. It was useless. She might as well get up and enjoy the sunshine that was pouring through the windows.
A shower helped. The fresh breeze from her open bedroom window helped. A look at the mess in the kitchen didn’t help.
Meredith decided to take herself out to breakfast. This trick had helped her more than once feel as if she had a life when the home office became stifling. After all, it was Saturday. She didn’t have to work. She had promised Helen she would look at Jake’s manuscript, but she could do that later, after she felt a little better.
Grabbing her purse and heading out the front door, she saw a car turning into her long driveway. It was a Buick, a familiar, steady old Buick with her dad at the wheel. Mom was right beside him.
Meri waited in the warm sunshine on the front deck until he stopped the car. Mom waved pleasantly.
Unsure how she felt about her parents’ arrival, Meredith casually waved back. She loved her parents and enjoyed their company, but couldn’t they have called ahead? Just this once. The trip from their house to hers was nearly an hour. Meredith could have spent that hour cleaning up the kitchen.
“Hi, what are you two up to?” Meredith asked, shading her eyes from the sun as they came toward the house.
“I didn’t get your card in the mail,” Mom said holding out a card-sized envelope. “We had to come over here to camp anyhow to drop off the steaming trays we borrowed last week for the men’s breakfast. It was such a nice day we thought we would combine the two errands.”
“Were you about to leave?” Dad asked, noticing the purse slung over Meredith’s shoulder.
“I was going to take myself out to breakfast,” she said. “You want to join me?”
“Breakfast!” Mom said with surprise, checking her watch. “Perhaps a late brunch or early lunch. Were you up late last night with your guests?”
“Not too late,” Meri said. Everything inside her had gone on alert. She refused to melt down into a child in front of her mother.
“Did you have a happy birthday?” Mom asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“I’m interested in going out to eat with you, Meri. But I was hoping for a little walk along the lake.” Dad had on his casual clothes and what looked like a new pair of tennis shoes. “What do you say we walk first and then go out for a bite?”
“I’m not up for a walk today,” Mom said. “You two go ahead, and I’ll wait here. Do you have any coffee on, dear?”
Meredith clenched her teeth and tried to understand why this was upsetting her so. She had been all set to take herself out to her favorite little coffee shop, Brewed Awakenings. There, she would have indulged in a full morning of French roast with lots of sugar and cream and at least one, and maybe two, wonderfully decadent pastries. Her mind would have leisurely wandered through all the information she had gathered about Jake, and she could have sorted it into neat piles the way she stacked the abundance of manuscripts in her office.
Now she was under her parents’ rule. How could she not walk along the lake with her dad? When was the last time he had wanted to do that? Never in the almost two years she had lived here.
And how could she let her mom see the disastrous kitchen? Meri suddenly understood why one sister had moved to Brazil, another to the east coast, and why Shelly had gone to Los Angeles right after she graduated from high school.
Her parents stood there, waiting and looking pathetic in their eagerness.
“Okay.” Meredith relented. “A walk and then food, but you’re paying.”
“Of course,” her father said, not giving any indication that he understood she was joking.
“We’ll be back in a little while,” Meredith said to her mom, who was heading up the front steps as Meri was going down. “And no, I don’t have any coffee on; yes, I know my kitchen is a mess; and no, I don’t want you to clean it for me.”
They were only a few yards away from the house when Mom said, “Meri, the door is locked.”
Meredith walked back, handed the keys to her mom and said again in fair warning, “Brace yourself. The kitchen is a disaster area.”
Mom gave her a funny look. “We didn’t expect you to clean things up for us.”
“How could I?” Meredith said. “I didn’t know you were coming.” She said the words nicely without changing the sweetness of her tone.
Dad read meaning into her words and brought them back for examination the minute they hit the trail. “Did it bother you that your mother and I didn’t call before coming over this morning?”
“It’s okay. You’re both welcome, of course, anytime. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
Dad continued to walk at a brisk pace. “It’s beautiful here,” he said. “Just beautiful. Fresh air, sunshine, and look at that water. Might be a fish or two waiting to be caught in there. What do you think?”
“Maybe.”
“Have you ever fished the lake?” Dad asked.
“No.” It seemed a funny question to Meri.
“Then let’s go fishing next time I’m up. Just you and me. Can we rent a boat from the camp?”
“I suppose so,” Meredith said. She had the feeling her dad was trying to make up for lost time from her childhood or something. Some hobbies he had never managed to transfer to his four daughters. His love for fishing was one of them. They had all gone with him a few times during their formative years, but none of the Graham girls took a liking to the sport. So Dad had kept all his hooks and lures to himself.
“Perfect day for fishing,” he said, looking up at the clear sky. “Wish I would have brought some gear with me. Didn’t even think of it.”
They walked on, Meri trying to keep up with her dad’s quick strides.
“Look. Over there.” He pointed to the flat surface of the water near the shore. “Did you see it jump?”
Meredith looked but didn’t see anything.
“Come over here,” Dad urged, heading for some smooth, gray boulders near the shoreline. He sat down in the shade and kept a steady eye on the water. “This would make a nice fishing spot,” he said.
“Yes,” Meredith agreed. She didn’t feel connected to his thought processes at all. Why was fishing so important all of a sudden?
Dad turned and looked at her. A pleased smile spread across his face. “We’re proud of you,” he said suddenly. “You know that, don’t you?”
Meri smiled.
“Your mother and I are proud of all you girls. No matter what, we can always point to the four of you and feel confident that we did something right.”
“You’ve done a lot of things right,” Meredith said.
Dad looked down. He sighed and said, “Not according to the board.”
Meredith felt a catch in her throat. Her whole life the worst nights at the dinner table were those right before or right after a meeting of the church’s board of elders. They were the ones who made the decisions as to how things were run at the church, even if their choices were completely opposite to her dad’s ideas of how things should be done. The board was to her what the boogeyman was to other children. It wasn’t that her dad ranted and raved about specific people or specific issues. It was the way his demeanor changed when he was about to defend himself to the board or when he came home defeated after a board meeting.
“What happened?” Meredith asked. She knew her dad wouldn’t share
specifics. He never did. It was obvious, though, that he was disturbed about something.
“They voted last week for me to take early retirement and for a new, younger minister to take my place.”
“You’re kidding!”
Dad shook his head. “We’ve known about if for some time, but your mother and I kept hoping that when the vote was taken the motion wouldn’t pass. We wanted to stay on for another three or four years. But there’s concern about my not attracting young families. They’ll hire a man right out of seminary.”
“Daddy, this is awful.”
“It’s not so awful. It’s just a change, and changes are hard the older you get. We believe God is working out his plan, and we don’t question him.” He sighed again. “It’s been the hardest on your mother. She’s held it in for several weeks now. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how it’s worn on her. It’s been, well …” He looked out at the water. “It’s been hard on her.”
“What are you going to do?”
Dad squared his shoulders and said, “Since the vote is final, I’ll have to make the announcement from the pulpit tomorrow. We’ll be at the church another month or two until the new minister and his family can move here. Next week a gentleman from the district office is coming to meet with us. It’s a new program the denomination has to assist pastoral staff and their families as they cycle out of ministry.”
“Cycle out of ministry?” Meredith repeated, folding her arms across her chest. “How do you cycle out of ministry? That’s all you’ve done your whole life—and at the same church. What are you supposed to do now?” It angered her that anyone would try to patronize her parents. Didn’t the denomination recognize that her parents had both given their lives to this church? This was their home. How could they be cycled out of their home?