“I know.” Hearing his own weak tone, he repeated, “I know,” more forcefully, even though he didn’t feel it.
“Okay, then. Text me your flight time and I’ll pick you up from the airport myself.”
Josh couldn’t be sure if the offer was made out of friendship or enforcement. SymphoCync needed him. He owed his loyalty to the company he’d built.
Only now, another loyalty divided him. More sharply than he’d ever expected.
Chapter Nine
Jean recounted the whole comical scene of Jonah’s “big fish” with Josh as she sat on Kelly’s back steps Sunday morning before church. As single mothers, Jean and Kelly alternated bringing each other coffee and goodies before Sunday service in an unofficial support group. “Mom’s Night Out” wasn’t a luxury either of them could afford very often, so “Mom’s Sunday Coffee” served as a creative stand-in.
“It was quite a scene. I think Josh was wearing every piece of fishing gear Bill stocked. I know he did it to impress Jonah, and that’s sweet, but he looked ridiculous.”
Kelly smiled and waved at her daughter, Lulu, who was pushing Jonah on a swing. “It is sweet. And not cheap.” She lowered her voice, even though the children were several yards away. “Did you know Jonah’s father was so successful?”
Jean picked up a leaf off the steps, turning it to catch the morning sunshine. “Sort of. I mean, it was clear while we were out there that Josh would do big things, and I followed his career for a while until it didn’t make sense to keep pricking myself on that thorn. The life Josh lives consumed him. I felt like it made me invisible. So I decided I’d rather have none of his attention than have to beg for whatever was left over from SymphoCync. It seemed the right choice then. Now, I’m coming to see how much that choice hurt him. Hurt all of us, really.”
“And then he shows up on your doorstep.” Kelly leaned back, propping her elbows on the step above. “Seriously, Jean, you have to believe God’s up to something. Even if I believed in coincidences—which I don’t—this one’s too much of a reach to be anything but God.”
Jean had come to the same unsettling conclusion. “I know Josh is Jonah’s father. And I know it might not have been a perfect choice to keep that from him. I’ve made a bunch of imperfect choices in my life. But that’s exactly why I don’t want to make a bad one now. I don’t know what kind of father Josh will be to Jonah. I don’t think even Josh knows what kind of father he wants to be. It could all go so horribly wrong.”
Kelly gave Jean a look. “Or it could all go so wonderfully right. I mean, the guy’s going out on a limb—or is it out into the creek, in this case? He’s letting you call the shots, letting you set the pace for how and what Jonah knows, right?”
“Not entirely. He wants Jonah to know who he is. Right now. But I’m just not ready. If Jonah sees Josh as his father, and then Josh leaves...”
“Hey, I’m on your side here. You’re protecting your son, and that’s a good thing. But this isn’t a new relationship—Josh is already Jonah’s father. You’ve just got to figure out how to factor that into Jonah’s life in the best way possible.”
Jean rested her head on her hand. “And what way is that?”
“I’m not the answer lady. I’m just the flower lady. But I do know that if some handsome West Coast tech exec turned his schedule upside down to stay a couple of extra days to get to know the son he never knew he had, I’d pay attention. I’d be shooting for cautiously optimistic.”
“At the moment, I’m settling for thoroughly confused.”
“Well, there’s that, too.” Kelly wrapped a comforting arm around Jean as Lulu giggled at a face Jonah made. “How do you feel about the whole thing? About him?”
“I’m still in shock, I think. And I feel guilty for keeping such a secret, I suppose. I could have told Josh. I could have stood up to his father. I could have believed he would stand up to his father.”
Kelly chose a doughnut from the bag she had brought. “Done all that and raised a special needs son?” She broke off a piece. “And dealt with your father’s health? And fought for Josh’s attention and defense while he was out playing tech tycoon? Don’t be so hard on yourself. You chose your battles while you were outnumbered. Jonah’s had a happy, loving life because of it. That life is just going to get a bit more complicated now.”
Jean gave a resigned laugh as she chose her own doughnut. “A bit?”
“Okay, maybe a lot. I’m just saying there could be some good coming with all that complication.” Kelly ate the piece of doughnut before continuing. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I told you. I feel guilty. Scared. Worried.”
“I meant the part about him. You and Josh have some serious history together. He’s the father of your child. You were in love with him, were willing to marry him. What are you feeling now?”
Jean hid in her coffee cup, taking a long swallow while she figured out how on earth to answer the question. “I’m feeling a million different things. He’s the same Josh I knew—brilliant, mesmerizing, dashing—but different. In some ways he’s still laser focused, and then in other ways he seems...I don’t know...drifting. Unsettled. Like the foundation is coming out from underneath him—which is a perfectly human reaction for a man who’s just discovered he’s a father, I suppose.” She dunked her doughnut in her coffee. “I threw him a monster of a curve, I know that.”
“And he could have balked. He could have done a lot of things other than try to make a connection with Jonah the way he has.” She sighed. “This parenting stuff is hard alone. You know that. Even having him as just a bit of a partner is going to help, don’t you think?”
Jean set down the coffee. “That’s just it, I’m not so sure. I want Jonah to have a real daddy in his life. The kind that will show up at baseball games and help with homework and be there. How can Josh ever be that? Jonah’s idea of ‘father’ will always be fractured now. That makes me sad.”
Kelly swallowed. “Maybe fractured beats none at all.”
Jean wanted to bite her thoughtless tongue. Kelly had lost her husband in an aviation accident two years ago when Lulu was six. Kelly fought every day to keep Lulu’s memories of her father alive. “I’m sorry, Kelly. That was a lousy thing for me to say. How can I sit here and gripe about Josh coming back like this? Mark can never come back for you or for Lulu.”
Kelly blinked hard, her voice thick with emotion. “Well, this side of Heaven at least.” She ran a finger down a section of deck railing. “You’ve got a chance here. Maybe only for Jonah, but maybe for you, too. Take it from a girl who’s lost her chances. This one might be worth taking.”
“You mean me? With Josh?”
Kelly pointed at Jean. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Come on. Money, looks, over-the-top daddy antics? I know I’d be thinking about it.”
“He’s got no faith, Kelly. That man’s spiritual side lives inside a computer case. Or his checkbook. Or nowhere. No thanks, I’m not in the market for that.”
“But you just said he seemed unsettled to you. Maybe God’s shaking up more than Jonah’s parentage. It’s good marketing, when you think about it.”
Jean balked. “What on earth do you mean?”
“What does it say about a town called Matrimony Valley if we can’t pair off our own mayor?” Kelly stood up and called to the children. “Lulu, bring Jonah in to wash up. Church starts in thirty minutes.” She winked at Jean. “And we can’t be late this morning, can we?”
* * *
They were all staring at him, right? The pretender from California infiltrating the sanctity of a humble mountain congregation. The guy who wasn’t even sure God was out there sitting among all these people who seemed to think God was close. Friendly. Comfortable, even.
The church was impressive in its unimpressiveness—if that made any sense. It had pretty stai
ned windows and arches that graced the ceiling as rows of pews filled the floor. It was pleasant enough to look at, but that wasn’t at all what made the place so memorable. The warmth of the space—a warmth that had nothing to do with the May morning—wouldn’t let him leave despite the imposter impulse that kept him glancing back at the door.
Still, when he looked around, no one did anything but smile at him. And then there was the singing. The hymns that had been sung at Dad’s funeral were mostly done by impressive soloists with a thin smattering of voices joining in from the congregation. In this church, everyone sang, and sang loud—even the guy behind him who had less of a sense of pitch than Josh had. By the end of the second hymn, Josh ventured a quiet bar or two and didn’t feel embarrassed at all by his lack of talent. As a matter of fact, Jean smiled and sang with a little more enthusiasm herself. And Jonah? He “sang” in his own way, zealously waving hands as if conducting some imaginary orchestra. The whole thing captured him.
But how? He was in church. In Jean Matrim’s church. And it didn’t feel weird. New, maybe. Startling for sure, but not weird in a “you don’t belong” sense. In fact, Josh had the inexplicable sense that he could belong here. That the people around him would let him belong—welcome him, even—if he so chose. As if all the missteps of his past and all his shortcomings wouldn’t bar him from entry, but just make him like everybody else who sought comfort and solace from this place.
He tried to follow along with the service, but mostly struggled to keep his focus despite the rush of awareness that seemed to come at him from all sides. He kept waiting for the bubble to pop, for the impossible warmth and welcome to evaporate, but it never did.
Sincere. That was the improbable word that kept thumping in his brain. The faith here, in this place and in this town, was sincere. Real. He knew lots of people who claimed to have the wondrous sort of grounded peace he felt here, but this was the first place he actually thought it might exist. And even though he wasn’t at all sure he had a shot at having such a faith, it sure was nice to just sit here and bask in it for an hour.
An hour that seemed to be up as fast as it began, and Josh wanted to blink and shake his head to clear it as he filed out of the church with Jean and Jonah and the other congregants. Several of them he had met during his short time here. There were older ladies in hats Violet would classify as “vintage.” There were older men in starched clean shirts and suspenders. In fact, there were people of every age: some in their late twenties like himself, some older, gawky teenagers, fidgeting kids and cooing babies. It was like a slice of the whole country boiled down into one little pot where everyone called everyone else by name.
The whole experience was so far from the coffee-bar-power-brunch kind of Sunday morning he’d known in San Jose that it wasn’t hard to realize there were thousands of miles between the two.
It wasn’t just the inside of the church. The whole valley was intensely green—plants and blooms seemed to erupt from every square inch, as if the town was barely holding back the mountainside from its march toward the Atlantic on the other side of the state. Droughts had reduced California’s landscape into a palate of browns and tans that made him treasure the loud city colors. Now, the neon combinations felt forced next to how the colors here naturally fit together.
Surely, Jean would make some remark about the beauty of God’s creation if he voiced such thoughts. In this morning’s service, as the little church organ pumped out accompaniments to heartily sung hymns, Josh found he wouldn’t argue.
He couldn’t deny it: there really was something about the valley. He wanted to stay longer, even though he couldn’t. He’d stretched his absence to the limit, and still an annoyingly large part of him would be sorry to get on that plane today. That regret was partly due to Jonah, partly due to the place itself and partly due to Jean. Actually, it felt more than partly due to Jean. All those parts were adding up to too much, and he didn’t know what to do with that.
“I expect you’re used to something a bit slicker than our little congregation,” Pastor Ryan Mitchell said as he shook Josh’s hand at the church entrance after the service.
“I’m not used to anything at all,” Josh admitted, regretting the puzzled look that brought to the pastor’s face. “This has its charms,” he backpedaled, not wanting to admit his lack of faith. “I enjoyed it.” He had—surprising as that was.
“Well, you’re sure to enjoy what comes next,” Mitchell said, gesturing to the spread of folding tables covered in brightly colored tablecloths. “Best meals there are, our potlucks.”
“So Jean tells me.”
Jonah tugged on Jean’s arm, then flurried through a sequence of signs. Jean laughed and replied with the nodding fist Josh now knew meant “yes,” after which Jonah took off into the crowd of children like any other young boy would do.
“He do okay this morning?” the pastor asked Jean.
“Wiggly, but that’s to be expected,” Jean replied.
“Jonah’s teacher, Gina, spends the weekends down in Asheville with her mama, so we get an interpreter in here once a month,” the pastor explained to Josh. “I wish it were more often—it ought to be more—but that’s the best we can do for Jonah right now. I’ve learned the basics like everybody else in town, but it isn’t enough.”
“You do a great job. If I’d been Jonah, I’d think the whole service was just for me,” Josh replied. He’d been impressed at the number of signs the pastor had worked into his service—certainly enough to convey the essentials to a young brain.
“It is just for you. It’s just for each of us. I always say the air between my mouth and your ears is holy ground. What you get out of service is Spirit work, son, not cleverness on my part.”
What did he get out of the service? He was still working that out. He was still working out a lot of things.
“I’ve got to get my salad fixings out of the car,” Jean interrupted. “And that lemonade duty’s going to start in a minute, so you’d best get stirring.”
That brought a laugh from the pastor. “Her Honor get you working already? I thought you were just a guest.”
“Mayor Jean gets everybody working, doesn’t she?” Josh replied. He walked off toward the table set with a dozen pitchers of water and an enormous can of lemonade mix, not liking how the words just a guest sat wrong in his gut.
Bill Williams came up to help just as Josh was scooping the last of the mix into the final pitcher. “How’d all your gear work? Good fishing?”
“Well, I can almost cast without endangering everyone around me,” Josh said with a laugh. “But I look the part, that’s for sure.”
“Fake it to make it, I always say.” He leaned close. “Any fisherman will tell you it’s never about the catch anyway. Mostly just gives a man time to think. Life doesn’t leave much time for that these days, especially out where you’re from.”
Jean came up from behind Bill. “You done good, Bill. I saw our friend here go a whole hour without checking his cell phone. That’s not like the Josh I knew.”
Her eyes widened for just a second as she realized her slip. Josh stepped in to cover. “Jean and I actually went to the same college. Small world, huh?”
“Seems so,” said Bill. “And now you’ll be walking Miss Violet down the aisle as our first bride.” The man gave Jean the same warm smile that made Josh like him in the first place. “Fine thing Jean’s done for the valley.” He touched her shoulder with a fatherly air. “Your daddy’d be busting his buttons with pride if he were here, hon. I expect you know that.”
Jean’s eyes teared up a bit, and her cheeks pinked in a way Josh felt tingle under his skin. “I do, Bill, I do.”
Without asking if Josh needed any help, Bill simply took two of the mixed pitchers and walked over to set them on the nearest tables. “He gave Jonah a toy fishing game for his second birthday,” Jean said as she looked after the man. “It w
as Jonah’s first birthday with Dad gone, and Bill just appeared on our doorstep with the whole thing, big blue bow and all, saying how birthdays were important to little boys.” Jean’s voice was thick with emotion.
Josh had received a dozen texts on his last birthday, a handmade card from Violet and a few offers for rounds of drinks after work that he didn’t have time to accept. “Is Bill that nice to everyone?”
“Mostly,” Jean said, “but I think he has a soft spot for Jonah because he and Rose lost their own son in Afghanistan three years ago. Rusty had the same birthday as Jonah.” Her voice went soft and quiet. “Bill and Dad were fishing buddies. He and Rose have been great to me and Jonah, really.” Jean held his eyes for a moment, loss and memory glistening there in the threat of tears. Then she straightened herself in the way he’d seen her do so often, and grabbed two pitchers herself. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Let’s get this lemonade on the tables so we can get you fed before you hop on that plane.”
Josh stopped her. “What day is Jonah’s birthday?” It seemed such a sorry thing that he didn’t know and hadn’t yet thought to ask.
“August 10.” She said the words with importance.
Josh looked at her for a long moment before he promised, “I won’t forget. Ever.”
He wanted her to smile and say, “I know you won’t,” but she simply smiled, nodded and walked toward the table with the lemonade.
Chapter Ten
Jean felt as if her insides whirled. Today was supposed to make a happy end to the surprise entrance of Josh into her life. Instead, Josh’s presence in the service and beside her at a “family” event like the Sunday potluck just churned old and new feelings up together in an unsettling torrent.
Not that anyone was making assumptions—most of the valley presumed she was paying special attention to the members of the first bridal party. Yes, a few eyebrows rose in question—Josh was a very handsome single man, after all. Kelly hadn’t been the first to hint that Matrimony Valley ought to be able to offer up a match for its mayor someday. It was the full history she and Josh shared, though, that gave the day such weight. Not only the history, but the uncertainty of the future. Josh belonged in Jonah’s life, she could see that now. It was just how, and how much, that she couldn’t predict.
His Surprise Son Page 9
