by Amanda Tru
Uncle Wayne may be exuberant and eccentric at times, but he did have a few acorns of wisdom that showed up every now and then.
“Thanks, Uncle Wayne,” she said quietly. Brooke looked up to see her family seated at the table and Dallas gesturing wildly for her to come sit so they could say the blessing. Even Chloe was seated in her high chair.
“I’ve got to run, Uncle Wayne. Mom has dinner ready, and they are waiting for me. Thanks for the encouragement. Merry Christmas!”
Brooke hung up and hurried to the table. Everyone bowed their heads as Brooke’s dad said the blessing. Dad’s prayers, though not overly long, always found a way to mention everyone at the table, as well as those who were absent, thanking God for each person and asking His blessing on their lives. He still managed a beautiful reminder of what Christmas truly means and packed everything into around two minutes.
After the ‘amen,’ the food started making the rounds, and her dad turned to her. “No boy with you this time, Brooke?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
“No,” Brooke said simply, piling a little too much salad on her plate in her distraction.
“He should be,” Geneva muttered under her breath.
“Brooke, do you have a boyfriend?” her oldest brother, Israel, asked. “Why am I the last to know?”
“I do not have a boyfriend!” Brooke said emphatically.
“She should,” Geneva muttered again.
Shooting her sister a dirty look, she turned back to Israel. “I brought a friend for Thanksgiving dinner since he had nowhere to go. A few of my siblings got a little excited and seemed to over-react to me bringing someone home. I checked with Dylan this past week, and he was going to Arizona to celebrate Christmas with his sister and mom. End of story.”
What Brooke didn’t say was that her conversation with Dylan had been very brief and was the only time she’d spoken to him in the last few weeks. The two minutes on the phone had been very stiff and awkward. It was clear that the night at the community center was still very much in both their minds, and Brooke realized that she had hurt Dylan to the point that he may never want to talk to her again. It really seemed like any kind of friendship was off the table.
Thankfully, the subject shifted from Brooke to an interesting case that had come across Dallas’s desk. When Chloe finished eating and got restless, Brooke hopped up from her seat and reached to take her niece to play so her parents could finish their meal.
She retrieved a little ball and tossed it to a giggling Chloe when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered. “Hello?
“Brooke!” came the whispered voice. “It’s Tylee!”
“Hi, Tylee. Merry Christmas!” Brooke said, her voice normal. “Why are we whispering?”
“I don’t want anyone to hear.” Tylee paused, and Brooke imagined her looking around suspiciously. “I just had to call and let you know that Grammie just announced to the family that she is closing the shop and selling the building!”
“Really?” Brooke asked, surprised. She didn’t think Helen would ever close the shop.
Losing her concentration momentarily, Chloe tossed the ball and Brooke forgot to catch it. Brooke winced as it hit her nose.
“Yes!” Tylee confirmed, her voice losing its whisper quality. “She said business has died, and she isn’t making money anymore. Of course, she blames you, saying that the shop just couldn’t recover after the mess you made. But I know that isn’t true. The number of orders didn’t decrease until you left. Then Grammie couldn’t find another floral designer, so she tried to do the orders herself. They looked terrible! It didn’t take long for customers to decide that they didn’t want those kind of flowers. She also never could get the online order thing to work right. It’s not easy trying to phone in each of your cross-country or overseas orders, especially when the florist on the other end doesn’t speak English well. I’m pretty sure Grammie had her share of order mistakes too! At least it sounded that way from all the angry customers.”
After the fun of hitting Brooke in the nose, just tossing the ball wasn’t so entertaining for Chloe. As Tylee talked, Brooke followed the little girl to a stack of magazines and watched as she began unloading them.
“I’m sorry, Tylee!” Brooke said sympathetically. “I know that means you are out of a job.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t any fun after you left anyway. I really think it’s time that Grammie retires and that it’ll be best for everyone. It’ll just be really strange that for the first time in thirty years, there will be no Crossroads Floral.”
For some reason, Tylee’s words sent a jolt of electricity through Brooke. There will be no Crossroads Floral.
“Someone’s coming!” Tylee whispered. “Gotta go!”
The line went dead.
Riiippp!
“Oh, no, Chloe!” Brooke said, looking down at the ripped magazine in her niece’s hand. “I’m not sure Grandpa wants his fishing magazine torn up!”
“Let her do it,” Lydia said, coming into the room. “Your dad has way too many magazines. If Chloe wants to do the downsizing for him, then I think that’s putting them to good use.”
With Grandma’s permission, Chloe used both hands and began ripping the magazine to shreds.
“Did you have a good talk with Wayne?” Lydia asked.
“Yes, I actually did,” Brooke answered. “He was quite encouraging and made me remember that God has reasons for everything and can bring good out of my worst mistakes.”
Lydia smiled. “I’m glad, sweetheart. You’ve seemed so sad the past couple weeks. I’ve been concerned.”
“I’m having a hard time right now, Mom,” Brooke admitted. “I know I have to trust God, but I also know that I may not see the good God intends to bring out of a bad situation.”
Brooke usually didn’t intentionally take her mom as a confidante, but she really didn’t have anyone she felt comfortable sharing with. And sometimes, Lydia would use just the right tone of voice that transformed Brooke into a little girl who needed her mom.
“You’re right, Brooke,” Lydia said, her gaze filled with love and understanding. “Sometimes we never get to see the ‘why’ this side of heaven. Sometimes it is very clear. And still, sometimes we have to look for it. I think this is a good thing for you, sweetheart. I’ve been worried that you’re stuck, not allowing yourself to step out of your comfort zone. But now is the time. Take a risk and do something you want to do. Find your good, Brooke. Don’t let fear keep you from finding the good God can give you.”
Find the good, Brooke. Find the good.
It was the same thing Wayne had told her.
Then, like a curtain being drawn back to reveal sunlight, Brooke realized something. They weren’t telling her to just wait and let the good find her. They were urging her to go find it.
“What happened to my magazines?” Brooke’s dad entered the room to find Chloe sitting in a pile of magazine scraps.
Brooke didn’t hear her dad’s response. Her mind was too busy as an idea slowly began to form. At the thought, her hands became clammy, and her breath became shallow. Did she dare do such a thing?
Her mind said it would never work. It would be too difficult. She would fail and be the laughingstock of Crossroads yet again.
But her heart said she had to try.
Brooke knew she’d made a mistake as soon as she stepped through the front door of the bank. But she resolutely made her feet move forward.
Then she saw Dylan.
He wasn’t supposed to be here! It was 9:00 in the morning on December 26th! He was supposed to be in Arizona for Christmas!
Pivoting, she abruptly turned around to make a run for the door, but she didn’t make it before Dylan looked up and saw her.
“Brooke!” he called.
She seriously thought about pretending she didn’t hear him. If she had two more seconds, she might be able to make it.
He called her name again, and she reluctantly
stopped. Even if she tried, he’d already seen her. He would either outrun or call her and ask why she had sprinted out the door.
“Oh, hi!” she said, trying to sound casual as if she just noticed him. “I was just… Why are you here?” she blurted irritably. “I thought you were supposed to be in Arizona with your family for Christmas.”
“I was,” he answered, looking at her curiously. “I was there last weekend, and we celebrated early. I flew back here on the 24th so I could be at work today.”
“Dylan!” Brooke chided. “I asked about your plans for Christmas, and you told me you were going to Arizona. If I’d known you would be spending Christmas day alone, I would have insisted you have dinner with my family.”
“Honestly, Brooke, I knew you assumed I would be celebrating with them on Christmas, and I didn’t do anything to clear up that misconception. I didn’t really feel like I could join you for Christmas, so I may have misled you to some degree.”
“Now I feel bad!” Brooke exclaimed, hating the idea of him sitting home alone on Christmas. “Why couldn’t you come with me?”
Then she saw his face and stopped. He couldn’t come to Christmas dinner because of her. Because there were too many uncomfortable feelings between them and because “just being friends” wasn’t going to be possible for him.
Never answering her question, he asked a question of his own. “So what can I help you with? Why are you here?”
Brooke looked around at the bank, seeing the bank tellers busy and working. She obviously couldn’t take time away from Dylan’s work to talk, and right now, she wished she’d started with a different bank. She’d only come here because the bank had the best reputation in town, and she knew Dylan wouldn’t be here!
“I need to speak with a loan officer,” she said, wetting her lips nervously.
Dylan’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is this about an existing loan or a new one?”
“A new one,” she replied, tapping every ounce of her bravery to stop herself from turning around and walking out.
A wave of nerves gripped her, and she couldn’t take it. This was a stupid idea. “You know, never mind. I don’t want to take anyone’s time. I’ll just go and talk to you later.”
“Wait, Brooke,” Dylan said, and he reached for her. Thinking the better of it, his hand dropped to his side. “It’s no problem. There’s no harm in checking if you can get approved for a loan. Even if you don’t, you’re no worse off than you are now.”
Brooke nodded reluctantly. “Who do I talk to?”
“Richard Dunst usually handles the bank loans. His office is right over here.” Dylan led the way to an office in the corner, then paused with his hand on the doorknob. “If you don’t mind, I usually stay to hear loan requests. Though I primarily deal with other types of investments with my job, I still monitor the total investments made by this and other branches.”
Of course she minded! Just the thought of him being in the room made her feel ill. But she nodded anyway, and chirped a meek, “Sure.”
Dylan led the way into the office. “Richard, I’d like you to meet Brooke Hutchins. She wanted to discuss obtaining a loan.”
Mr. Dunst was an older man with a fringe of gray hair around a shiny bald head. He looked grouchy and entirely too serious for Brooke to feel the least bit optimistic.
“What kind of loan are you interested in Ms. Hutchins?” Mr. Dunst asked, getting right to the point after shaking Brooke’s hand.
Dylan took a seat beside his coworker, facing Brooke.
Trying to focus, Brooke fixed her eyes on Mr. Dunst and worked to tune out Dylan’s presence. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to jump in. “I would like to purchase the Crossroads Floral building and open my own shop. I would like to get a loan in order to do so.”
“What is your credit like?” Mr. Dunst asked briskly. “Do you own your own home?
“I do not,” Brooke stated. “I rent an apartment. I pay my bills on time, but I’m not sure about my credit score.”
Mr. Dunst shifted in his chair uncomfortably, but with his large girth, there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room. “The way I understand it, the business for Crossroads Floral has been declining drastically. What makes you sure you can succeed when Helen Garrison has not?”
“I would like to offer more than just flowers,” Brooke stated, trying to sound confident. “There seems to be a lot more tourists coming to Crossroads, and I would like to feature gifts, home décor, and other products that would appeal to that industry. Plus, I will get the online order situation figured out, which is something Helen just wasn’t able to do.”
“What products would you offer?” Dylan asked with interest.
“Besides the gift shop and handmade items targeting tourists, I’d like to feature wreaths, diaper cakes, maybe some edible arrangements that could also be purchased online and shipped. I would like to order a variety of things that can be sent as gifts or used as home décor here in Crossroads or anywhere. And of course, I would also provide all the products and services of a traditional florist.”
Reaching in a drawer, Mr. Dunst pulled out a large sheaf of papers that he slid across the desk to Brooke. “We will need you to make an application that includes all of your financial and employment history. We will then assess everything and notify you in a few days as to whether you’ve been approved for the loan.
“Thank you,” Brooke said, swallowing with difficulty at the sight of the intimidating application.
Mr. Dunst started to scoot his chair back and stand, thereby signaling the end of the interview, but he paused as if debating whether or not to say more. “If I were you, Ms. Hutchins, I wouldn’t wait for our response. Go make applications at other banks as well. My initial feeling is that you will not be approved. Without a good credit history and an employment record that shows you could handle loan payments with your current skills, it will be a challenge. Of course, your application will be viewed objectively, but I will be surprised if our analysis shows that a business such as you suggest would earn enough revenue to support yourself and a business mortgage. And it certainly won’t if you intend to hire an assistant.”
Brooke nodded, realizing that there was absolutely no way she was going to get the loan. No matter at what angle she considered her idea, she couldn’t figure out how she could run the business herself. By her calculations, she would need at least one other person who could handle the calls and at least some of the business side of things while she worked on the design side.
Standing up, she put out her hand to give Mr. Dunst a firm handshake. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Dunst.”
During the whole interview, she managed to not look at Dylan. Now her eyes slid to him, and she read compassion in his gaze.
“I’ll show you where you can fill out the paperwork,” he said, leading the way out of the office.
Brooke didn’t feel the threat of tears. She simply felt numb. Dylan led her to an empty desk, and she wordlessly sat down. A pretty brunette came by and told Dylan that he had a phone call, so he left, following after her clicking heels. Brooke seriously thought about leaving without filling out the paperwork. What was the point when she knew there was no hope that a loan would be approved?
She didn’t know if it was stubbornness, desperation, or just the knowledge that she’d already come this far, but she sat there and filled every line out, despite her misgivings. Her mom didn’t want her to be stuck anymore, and there was no way she could get unstuck by doing nothing. So she would try, even if she failed. When she received the rejection, maybe there would be a little comfort in knowing that at least she’d tried.
Dylan came by a few times to check on her. He didn’t say anything, but looked over her shoulder at her progress, only to leave again. The bank itself was quiet, except for the annoying clicking of the brunette’s shoes as she made near-incessant trips across the tile floor. Brooke wondered if all of her expeditions really were necessary, or if she just liked to hear the sharp c
licking.
Finally finishing the packet, Brooke quietly took it up to one of the tellers, asking them to deliver it to Mr. Dunst. Then she made a quick exit before Dylan noticed.
Brooke spent the rest of the afternoon and all the next day filling out loan applications for every bank in Crossroads. She even made a trip to Brighton Falls and filled out a few there. She didn’t know why she did it, but she had no other ideas to even attempt.
By the following day, she had exhausted all options and succumbed to tears. Not even bothering to change out of her pajamas, she spent the day in her robe, alternately watching sappy movies and blubbering into her Ramen noodles. Every single bank, credit union, and private lender had turned her down. Even after crying all day, she still had more rejections than she had tears to mourn them. She had received an emphatic ‘no’ from everywhere but Dylan’s bank. Now, as the minute hand ticked past 5 o’clock, she knew it would be at least tomorrow before she received that final official rejection.
She tried to tell herself that at least she could rest well knowing that she had tried everything, but she must not have been very persuasive in her argument. The reasoning just fell flat with the knowledge that her rent was due at the beginning of next month, and she had no way to pay it.
Brooke’s breath caught in a sob. I just don’t understand, Lord! What would you have me do?
Brooke angrily brushed away the tears and swallowed down any further sobs. She had cried off and on all day, and it hadn’t changed anything. She really should stop wishing things were different and accept her fate. After all, she didn’t really have another choice.
She had come to the difficult decision that she would have to talk to her parents tomorrow. Borrowing the rent money from them just didn’t seem smart considering she had no employment opportunities on the horizon. The better course would be to move in with them while her siblings tried to work their magic to get her a job, even if that job meant moving to Hollywood to pursue opportunities with her sister, London.
Brooke dejectedly eyed another package of Ramen noodles. Should she eat dinner or watch a movie first? Maybe she should just go to bed. Was 5:02 too early to go to bed for the night?
