A Journey by Chance

by Sally John

  The view was breathtaking. An unhindered panorama of skyscrapers shimmered in the evening sunlight. As they neared window tables, she saw him.

  Reece stood. The room faded from her vision, but she sensed that heads turned. The silver in his hair glistened in a sunbeam. He was as trim and handsome as ever in his black tuxedo. His wide mouth broke into an easy smile. He wore his glasses, a sign that his eyes were tired. With a start she realized she didn’t even know where he had been this past week.

  He stepped toward her and took her hands in his, leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Reece, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

  His gray eyes bore into hers. “Margaret.” He paused. “Maggie, it’s all my fault.”

  She couldn’t find her voice as he held the chair out for her.

  “Do you want to prop your cast up on this other chair?”

  “N-no. It’s fine for now.”

  He sat across from her, scrutinizing her face as if he’d never seen her before. “You’re more beautiful than ever. I like your hair that way.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I’ve already ordered for you. The special is a salmon I think you’ll like. But if you want to look at the menu…” His voice faded. “This feels like our first date.”

  “All right, I give up. Who are you?”

  He smiled. “And what do you mean by that?”

  “Reece doesn’t kiss me in public. He doesn’t call me Maggie. He doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t order dinner for me because he hasn’t a clue what I like. And he never, ever talks about feelings.”

  His smile broadened into a grin, and his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. “You noticed.”

  “Rushed off at 8:00 A.M. by a stranger wearing a chauffeur’s uniform to an unknown destination? Oh, I noticed all right.”

  “And? How do you feel?”

  She picked up her goblet and sipped the mineral water, delaying the honest answer that might hurt him. “I-I’m fighting it. Feeling means I’m vulnerable again. Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense, Maggie. And it’s fair. I don’t expect you to trust me just because of a few gifts. We’re obviously at square one.”

  A waiter interrupted momentarily, placing fragrant potato-leek soup before them.

  “Reece, we’re not exactly at square one. We never ate at a place like this during those square one days.”

  “I tried to get us a table at that little French hole-in-the-wall. Evidently they’re closed.”

  She laughed. “We thought we were so sophisticated. Gina would call it a dive.”

  “I thought perhaps we wouldn’t talk about Gina tonight. Let’s talk about us.”

  Maggie swallowed a mouthful of hot soup, coughed, and quickly gulped water. “Reece, will you please warn me when you’re going to say something like that?”

  “I’m going to say something like that.”

  “Again?!”

  “I just realized that I’m only being myself in all this. I’m simply treating you the same way I’ve been treating clients and business associates for years.”

  The delectable soup turned to sawdust in her mouth.

  “Not to today’s extreme. I mean, I never knew anyone else’s brand of lipstick or dress size, but I have sent limousines and arranged hotel rooms and surprise schedules. It’s just a part of business.”

  She laced her fingers together in her lap.

  “But I’ve never personally shopped or called a florist or gone to the hotel room and hung up clothing and set out cosmetics.”

  “You did all that?”

  “Yes, I did. Of course I had to call Gina a dozen times to find out where to buy certain items. I’ve memorized Brady Olafsson’s phone number, of all things.” He rolled his eyes in the same way their daughter did.

  “We’re not talking about her.”

  “Anyway, it is a despicable way to live. Margaret, I mean Maggie, will you forgive me for ignoring you all these years?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m never going to get through this soup.”

  He smiled softly.

  “Forgiving takes time, Reece. I’m working on it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Will you forgive me?”

  “As I said, it was my fault. I can’t blame you for finding a friend.”

  “But can you forgive me?”

  “I have, Maggie, because I love you.”

  “And I do love you.”

  “Thank you. Ah, here’s the salad. Honey-mustard dressing on the side, right?” When the waiter left, Reece said, “Speaking of dives, remember our first apartment?”

  “That wasn’t a dive! It was cozy.”

  They laughed and talked through the remainder of dinner, reminiscing about the happy early days of their marriage when they lived downtown. The city was full of their memories.

  “I ordered raspberry cheesecake. Did you save room for some?”

  A favorite of hers…of course. “Oh, Reece, this has been an unparalleled day of self-indulgence. I see no reason to stop now. Thank you. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

  “It’s not over. There’s still the opera.”

  “You don’t like opera.”

  “But you do. I promise to listen this time when you tell me why.”

  “Well, for one thing, it’s extremely energetic, like you.” The waiter slipped a dessert plate before her. A small gold foil-wrapped box with matching bow sat on it. “Reece, this isn’t cheesecake.” She locked her eyes with his.

  “Will you open it? Please.”

  Something in her hesitated, but she did as he asked. Beneath the paper was a box. Inside that was a black velvet ring box. She lifted the lid. The loveliest of diamonds sparkled up at her. Not too small, not too ostentatious, a solitaire on a band of gold. Simple. Elegant.

  “Maggie, will you marry me? Again?”

  She saw the crease between his brows, the intense concentration in his eyes. “Reece, it’s gorgeous.” She bit her lip.

  “It’s all right. You don’t have to answer tonight.”

  “I didn’t the first time either, did I?” She looked down at the original tiny engagement ring still on her left hand.

  “Will you just wear it, on your right hand, until you decide?”

  “This is difficult, Reece. I have to be honest.”

  “I want you to be honest, no matter what.”

  “I don’t know yet. Will you…will you keep it, until you know for certain what my answer will be?”

  He blinked a couple of times, thoughtful, probably trying to follow her line of reasoning. A smile slowly spread across his face. “You think I’ll get to that point?”

  “After today? Oh, most definitely.”

  Reece slipped his arm along the back of the limo’s soft leather seat, behind Margaret. Maggie.

  During the opera their shoulders had brushed. She had touched his forearm twice, whispered in his ear. But he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

  She looked up at him as Julius maneuvered the car through the after-theater Chicago traffic. “Reece, I think I’d like to go back to Valley Oaks tonight.” Her tone was cautious, as it had been much of the evening.

  “My darling,” words of endearment rolled easily now, “you don’t have to. I have my own room, on another floor. And a cold shower will do me good.”

  “And Julius?”

  “I don’t know why he’d need a cold shower.”

  She poked him in the ribs.

  “He has a room, too. But if you’re determined to leave, he’ll take you. No problem.”

  “All right,” she breathed. “I am tired. If I get back by nine in the morning, that’ll be early enough. Thank you, Reece.”

  “My pleasure.” He fingered the ring box in his jacket pocket. She wasn’t making this easy. He would win her back though, even if it took the rest of his life.

&n
bsp; Forty-Five

  Brady was as handsome at the wedding as Lauren had predicted. His blond hair glistened, his tan was deep against the white tuxedo, his eyes reflected more green than blue above the chartreuse shirt that matched Gina’s dress.

  He caught her gaze, crooked his elbow, and held it out to her.

  It wasn’t time to walk down the aisle yet, but she slipped her hand through his arm anyway. Close proximity to Brady had become her favorite place. They stood outside the sanctuary with the other attending couples, listening to the final notes from the string quintet before the doors would open and she and Brady would lead the group inside.

  She glanced back at Lauren and Uncle Dan. Her cousin’s face radiated pure joy.

  “Hey,” Brady whispered and touched the corner of her eye with his little finger. “Not yet. Let me see that Miss America smile.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “That’s better.” He grinned. “Oops, show time.”

  The doors swung open as a trumpet sounded. Brady squeezed her hand, and they stepped onto the white carpet just as the chamber group joined the brass.

  It was the most beautiful wedding Gina had ever been in or witnessed. It was magical. No, more than that. It was supernatural. Lauren and Aaron were clearly being joined in Christ, a dimension of immeasurable depths.

  The guilt hit Gina again. She could never deserve a man who would gaze at her as Aaron did at Lauren now. She always knew her cousin was a good person, at times nearly even a Miss Goody Two-Shoes. But she didn’t realize until this moment how exceptional that was nor how precious that made her to her husband.

  The group turned when the pastor presented the new husband and wife. Brady caught Gina’s eye and winked. She tried to smile while biting her lip. This whole scene was becoming way too emotional. The sooner she told Mr. Olafsson goodbye, the better. She was the snob he had imagined and worse. An irrational feeling of emptiness hit her like a blow to the stomach.

  Oh, Lord, help me get through this day!

  Brady stuck beside her in the receiving line outside the church and diligently introduced her to the half of the community she somehow hadn’t yet managed to meet. It was a perfect July 1 afternoon with sunshine but low humidity. From the church’s front sidewalk she could see the town square. It was a photographic moment, a genuine Podunk moment with white steeple, green grass, most of the town wearing their finest…

  “Gina, are you all right?”

  She blinked up at his concerned, handsome face. “No, Brady, I’m not all right, and I won’t be all right until I get on that plane to California.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. Right there in front of everyone, in the middle of Valley—Podunk. It was Podunk. Always had been, always would be.

  The reception was in full swing. Reece held his hands out toward Maggie. “Dance?”

  She eyed the cast that hadn’t been there three weeks ago and fought back the niggling resentment toward him for missing the reunion dance.

  “Come on, Maggie, I want to dance with you. We’ll just inch ourselves around in a circle. Pretend like this band knows how to play slow music.” He grasped her hand and led her to the edge of the country club’s dance floor.

  They danced carefully, the same way they had been interacting since he arrived at Aunt Lottie’s on Thursday, a day earlier than planned. Her schedule had been packed full of wedding preparations…and Reece had graciously helped. He even took Aunt Lottie to the hairdresser. But he gave her space, hadn’t barged in and taken charge as he used to do. He seemed extraordinarily sensitive to her needs. She was grateful, yet wary still. His behavior didn’t undo the years of being nothing like this. It didn’t impart automatic trust, and it didn’t ignite emotion.

  “Mar—Maggie, are you having a good time?”

  “I am.”

  “Gina looks a little out of it.”

  Maggie spotted their daughter in Brady’s arms. He was leading her adeptly around the dance floor. One wouldn’t guess that she limped. But she wasn’t smiling. “It’s Brady. I think she’s falling for him.”

  “Falling—?” Reece stopped them in their tight tracks. “In love?!”

  Maggie nodded.

  “But she has a new job! Her dream job!”

  “Precisely.”

  “Poor kid.”

  His sympathy surprised her. “Reece, this is an Olafsson we’re talking about. A true-blue Valley Oaks’ resident.”

  “Gina wouldn’t fall for a jerk. Besides, I like his books. Not to mention he taught me a thing or two about sending flowers.” They resumed dancing, his face thoughtful. “I’ll put the pressure on that development. We can force him out. Then he’s free to go where she goes.”

  “Oh, good grief, you’re serious.”

  “It’s Gina we’re talking about. Of course I’m serious.”

  “Reece, you always want to fix things. We don’t need a fix here. She—they just need to work it out and that will take time.”

  He leaned back and intently studied her. “Is that where we are? No quick fixes?”

  “Yes.”

  Slowly he twirled her in a circle, then slipped his hand around her waist. “No problem. I’m in it for the long haul.”

  Long haul. She felt a hint of comfort in that phrase, but... “Can you prove it?”

  “You drive a hard bargain, lady.”

  She shrugged a shoulder and looked him square in the eye. “Take it or leave it.”

  He smiled, but his chin tilted and his eyes narrowed slightly. It was his determined business man’s expression. “I accept the challenge, Maggie Lindstrom Philips.”

  “Gina,” Brady murmured, his cheek nestled against her hair, “I don’t want to leave things in limbo.”

  She didn’t reply. He let it go.

  They sat in two outdoor padded lounge chairs that he had carried from his parents’ deck to the middle of a grassy field behind the barns. His invitation had been to watch for shooting stars. It was after midnight, after the reception, after the mosquitoes had retired. Gina sat near enough to lean her head on his shoulder, but not too near. The aluminum chair arms protruded between them. He tried not to think about how the two of them could probably fit rather nicely together in one of the chairs.

  He plucked tiny bits of dried baby’s breath sprinkled about in her hair, most of which was pinned up in a twist. “Can I take these out? They tickle.”

  “Mm-hmm. These stars are absolutely incredible. Almost as good as a desert sky.”

  “Did I tell you how absolutely, incredibly beautiful you looked today?”

  “Once or twice.” She shivered against him.

  He slipped off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her. Reclining again, he put his arm back around her shoulders, ignoring the pain in his ribs where the chair arm poked.

  “Thanks. You’re warm enough?”

  “Been warm enough all day. I cannot figure out why we guys get stuffed inside these long sleeves and jackets and cummerbunds in the middle of summer while you bridesmaids run around in short sleeves. Did I tell you how piercingly emerald your eyes were today?” He hadn’t been able to take his own from her.

  “Brady, stop talking. I can’t hear the stars. Listen. They make this magnificent, macroscopically hushed sound.”

  “Macroscopically?”

  “Shh.”

  They sat quietly for a long time, listening, until he reached his limit. At the wedding and reception, her demeanor had been highly agitated. When he asked her a few times what was wrong, she replied “not now.” “Gina, how about now? What was bothering you earlier?”

  For a moment she didn’t answer. “You.”

  “You’re supposed to say ‘ nothing.’”

  “Another irrational game women like my mother play.”

  “What’d I do? I didn’t tell any jokes, did I? Just that one—”

  “Brady, I was coming to terms with our situation. I don’t want to leave us in limbo either.
The fact is…” She paused. “There is no ‘ us’ to leave in limbo. We’ve had this…this moment together, but our lives are just too different. The summer fling is over.”

  He felt like a rodeo cowboy atop a bucking bronco fresh out of the chute. His breath was ripped from him. “Then why are you sitting here with me in the middle of the night with your head on my shoulder, wrapped in my jacket?”

  “Well, I’m not gone yet. We can still be friends.”

  “I don’t snuggle with friends. You can’t deny you don’t feel anything but friendship.”

  She straightened. “I deny it, Brady,” she whispered.

  “That’s just your logical self talking. I’ll visit you in Seattle, give you time to get to know me better, because I know all I need to know about you, which convinces me that I want to spend the rest of—”

  She yanked off his jacket and threw it at him. “Don’t you get it, Brady? You don’t know me, but I do know you, very well in fact, and I know I don’t belong with you! Not in Seattle, not in Podunk!” She swung her feet to the ground and strode away.

  Gina had stomped halfway across the dark field before his frozen brain connected with his legs. Podunk? What was going on here? He caught up with her near the truck. “Gina!”

  “I need a ride. I’d walk, but I think that’s an unrealistic expectation considering we’re out here in the middle of miles and miles of nothing but corn.” She opened the passenger door and climbed in.

  He got in his side and had the truck started before he slammed the door shut. “We call them acres, not miles.”

  It was a quick, silent ride to Lottie’s house. The porcupine had returned with a vengeance, and Brady was at a loss as to how to handle her. He pulled into the drive, nearly rammed the front of the truck into the neighbor’s hedge, and cut the engine.

  She looked toward her window. “I can’t get out.”

  “Gina, please don’t leave things like this.”

  “It’s for the best. Actually, maybe we had better say goodbye right now.”

  “Why do we have to even say goodbye? Give us a long-distance chance at least.”

  “What did you think, Brady? That I don’t have another life to pursue, one that doesn’t include ‘ us’? That somehow my dream to be a vet would just cease to exist?”