“I know.”
“I love you.”
He nodded, smiled, looked at her. “Um-hmm.”
“I love Brooke and Beau.”
“Especially when Brooke keeps her mouth shut?”
“I heard that!” came a voice from behind them—a voice a little less irritable than it had been a few minutes ago.
Lauren continued as if Brooke hadn’t interrupted. “I believe that if it’s true love it must be unconditional, which means Brooke can talk a blue streak and I’d still love her.” She turned to find the twins standing side by side beneath the archway at the far side of the great room.
Beau had an enigmatic smile on his face—which for Beau translated into a broad grin.
Brooke still had her arms crossed and still wouldn’t look Lauren in the eye.
Beau walked to Lauren and put his arms around her. “We love you, too, don’t we, Brooke?”
Brooke remained conspicuously silent.
Lauren returned Beau’s hug with enthusiasm.
Chair legs scraped noisily against the hardwood floor. “I’m not into the group hug thing yet,” Brooke snapped. “Keep it up and we’ll all lose our appetites.”
Reluctantly, Lauren released Beau and turned to find that the typically blunt Brooke Sheldon veneer was safely in place. Lips in a grim line. Gaze directed toward the window at the far side of the room.
“Please, can’t we just clear the air so we can have a meal in peace?” Lauren asked. Without waiting for Grant’s reply, she said, “Brooke, I know you’re still upset with me about Saturday. I’m sorry you felt that I stood you up. I did need to get away by myself and think about things but I’ll check with you next time I do that, okay?” Oops. Watch the sarcasm.
“Brooke the probation officer,” Beau muttered.
“Shut up, Beau,” Brooke said. “Dad wanted us to drop the subject until after dinner.”
“Too bad,” Lauren said. “He isn’t the only one who gets a vote.” She risked a look at Grant and found him calmly placing the food into serving dishes.
She looked back at Brooke, who had taken her seat at the table. “I don’t feel like sitting down and pretending to have a peaceful family dinner while you continue to make your snide comments.”
“It never bothered you before,” Brooke said.
Lauren sat down directly across from Brooke. “You’ve never roasted Lauren McCaffrey for dinner before and it sure isn’t going to start now.” They might as well focus on the basics. “No one’s kept tabs on my daily whereabouts since I moved out on my own in my twenties. Frankly, I was insulted by the implication last Saturday that I might have been with Archer on some tryst just because I didn’t check in here when I left.”
“I never implied that,” Brooke said. “But you were so upset when we told you about him and you just raced off to his house to—”
“To comfort Jessica, because I knew—”
“It was like our feelings didn’t even matter.”
“They did, Brooke, but at that moment Jessica’s feelings mattered more,” Lauren said. “I felt Jessica needed reassurance more than you did at the moment. She was the one whose husband was missing and I couldn’t help putting myself in her place.”
Brooke looked down at her empty plate. No one else spoke. The silence became oppressive.
“You always matter to me,” Lauren said more gently. “But there will be times when I’ll act without consulting you. I’ve always been that way and at my age I doubt that’s going to change.”
Brooke pressed her lips together and stared at her clasped hands—hands so tense their nail beds were white.
“I agree with Lauren,” Beau said. “At her age she’s pretty set in her—”
“Beau,” Grant warned. “You’re not helping.”
“A true family wants to spend time together, not avoid each other,” Brooke said.
“That isn’t fair, either,” Beau said. “You never feel the need to be alone. Lauren’s the kind of person who needs time by herself.”
“Want to know what I think?” Brooke asked. “I think that if Dad didn’t have kids he and Lauren would already be married.”
“No we wouldn’t,” Lauren said.
Grant paused as he transferred a platter to the table. “We wouldn’t?”
Lauren narrowed her eyes. He didn’t seem to be taking this conversation as seriously as the rest of them.
“Mom never took a day just to get away from us,” Brooke said.
Lauren felt the sting of those words. “Brooke, I’m not your mother.”
Brooke flinched as if she’d been slapped.
“I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “That obviously didn’t come out the way I meant it to. It makes me feel inadequate as a person when you continue to compare me to Annette Sheldon. I am Lauren McCaffrey—”
“But we’re talking about you becoming Lauren Sheldon,” Beau said. “We would be upset if Lauren Sheldon ever left for a whole day without telling anyone.”
Lauren Sheldon. “If I was your stepmom I would never do that.”
The telephone rang and Grant picked it up. He listened for a moment, frowned, then switched the call to his office and excused himself, muttering something about a confidential conversation.
“Go ahead and eat, you three,” he said over his shoulder as he walked from the room. “And cool your jets until I get back. I don’t want to miss a single word of this fascinating conversation.”
Sarcasm again. Lauren sighed. The world was filled with sarcastic people.
***
Grant felt like the turkey wishbone after Thanksgiving dinner. The last thing he wanted to do was walk out of the dining room and leave Lauren, Brooke, and Beau discussing the whole future of this family—his future! —without his helpful input.
It was insanity.
Not that he’d been contributing much. But he hadn’t intended to. He had no desire to play referee between Lauren and his kids for the rest of his life. He had a feeling that if he did that position would become a barrier between them.
Lauren might not have any experience as a mother but she would soon discover that she had a lot more influence over his kids than she realized. They were both crazy about her and appearances to the contrary Brooke had attached to Lauren emotionally months ago.
He closed the office door, picked up the phone, and punched the button to release the hold. “Mitchell, I’m back with you. Do you want me to come over to your place?”
For a moment there was no answer.
“Mitchell?”
“Yes. I’m still here.” Another pause. “I... need to know what you meant when you offered to help me with my... drug problem.”
Grant sat down heavily on the edge of the desk. “I would help set you up for professional treatment—and the hospital’s insurance would pay for it. I would help you find someone to take over your practice while you’re gone.”
“And if I’m in prison?”
“Prison! I seriously doubt you would go to prison for this.”
“Evidence seems to suggest that I had an accident Friday night. At the time, I would have been under the influence of Tranquen.”
Grant collapsed into his chair. “Evidence? Mitchell, don’t you remember?”
“No. Tranquen has an amnesic effect, especially in doses higher than prescribed. I woke up Saturday morning with a knot on my head. It wasn’t until today that a few indications led me to suspect that I might have been involved in an accident that Archer—”
“Hold it. You only had a few indications? What makes you think—?”
“I found his cell phone on the cliff,” Mitchell said. “I’ve already called Tony Dalton and the search has been redirected.”
Grant caught his breath. Oh, Mitchell, what have you done?
“My daughter is here,” Mitchell continued. “She is the reason I called.”
“Trisha? Is she okay?”
“She’s—” Mitchell’s voice broke, fell silent.
“She is addicted to methamphetamine. She needs my help. I don’t know how to give it.”
“We can help her.” Grant was still scrambling to comprehend the situation. He cleared his throat. “Of course we’ll help her. You tell me what you need and I’ll see that it happens.”
***
Lauren had no appetite. Obviously, neither did the twins. “Do you two remember when we had this little talk before? On our way back from Knolls when my brother died?”
“We said a lot of things that night,” Beau said. “It’s an hour’s drive, and Brooke talked most of the way.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did. I remember because—”
“Okay.” Lauren raised a hand for silence. “But remember when I told you that the adjustment to a stepmom would be a hard one for you and that you couldn’t expect her to take your mother’s place?”
“That was when Brooke was nagging you to go out on a date with Dad,” Beau said. “It worked, too. You two went out on your first date soon after that.”
“I remember,” Brooke said softly. She reached for a napkin, unfolded it and then instead of laying it on her lap she wrapped the end of it around her left forefinger. She watched her own hands instead of looking at Lauren. “You said it would be difficult for us to adjust to someone else in our lives because we would have different habits, a different family history, stuff like that.”
“So you did listen,” Lauren said. “So you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Brooke shrugged and unwrapped her finger, twisted the napkin into a rope.
“I took your father’s marriage proposal last week seriously,” Lauren said. “And I have not been looking for an excuse to reject it. Maybe I would have married your father without quite so much thought if he didn’t have children but that isn’t because I don’t want those children.”
“Then why?”
“I think partly because I’ve heard so much about Annette Sheldon that she seems almost too wonderful, too perfect. I can’t live up to the expectations of a family who’s lived with a woman like that. I can’t be what she was. I think part of my problem has been fear of disappointing you.”
“But I already love you because of who you are,” Brooke said quietly. The twisted rope tautened and some of the edges started to fray.
Lauren put her hands over Brooke’s. “Honey, I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well this past year.”
The fingers continued to twitch, as if Brooke couldn’t prevent the nervous tic.
“In all that time have I ever lied to you or done anything that would make you believe you couldn’t trust me for some reason?”
The hands grew still. Brooke cleared her throat. “No.”
“Then would you please trust me now?”
Brooke hesitated, cleared her throat again. “If you were already my stepmom I would trust you. Even if you agreed to marry Dad, I’d trust you then. But right now I just can’t take the stress, okay? If you’re not looking for an excuse to ditch us then what are you waiting for?”
“I’m not waiting.”
“What?”
In her peripheral vision Lauren saw Grant walk into the dining room. She didn’t turn. “You know that porch swing you got me for my birthday? Do you think you could put it up for me on your back deck?”
Brooke screamed.
Beau shouted, “Yes!”
Lauren turned to Grant who rushed across the dining room and grabbed her up into his arms and swung her around, laughing out loud.
“Does this mean you’ll marry me?”
Beau tackled them from Lauren’s right side.
“Yes, it means I’ll marry you.”
Brooke tackled them from Lauren’s left side.
So much for the tender romantic moment. Lauren decided this suited her better.
***
Mitchell sat alone in his kitchen staring out into the night through the plate-glass window of the dining room. Trisha slept peacefully at last, hopefully feeling more secure than she had when she first came home.
Could he continue to provide that security?
After talking to Grant he had begun to believe that there was hope.
He stared at the stars and the sliver of moon that crept over the eastern horizon. “I may have made a hasty judgment earlier—maybe you are out there and you do care,” he said to Whomever was listening. “And if that’s the case, I apologize. I sincerely apologize.” His voice cracked.
“I plead for Archer Pierce’s life. I know it won’t ease the guilt I feel over what I’ve done but because Archer believed in you with such determination, I beg you to save his life for his sake, for the sake of his wife, and for the sake of the people he touches.”
He stared into the night for another moment. “My daughter needs another chance. If you can work in Archer Pierce’s life, you can work in Trisha’s.”
Mitchell felt he hadn’t yet done enough. He picked up the telephone and dialed Jessica Pierce’s number. Before it could ring he hung up, realizing that he would be calling her out of a need to assuage his own guilt. It wouldn’t help her right now.
Later. He would speak with her later.
Chapter Thirty
The telephone awakened Jessica Wednesday morning and she rushed to pick it up before it could awaken her in-laws.
“Yes?”
“Jessie, it’s me.”
She sat up and glanced at the clock. Seven in the morning. “Heather? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine on this end. Have you had any leads on Archer?”
“I received a call last night from Tony Dalton. They’ve broadened the parameters of the search because of new information. Someone found his cell phone upriver from the bridge, buried in the mud of a cliff bank.”
“You’ll let me know if you hear more?”
“Of course I will. How did the show go last night?”
“It went.” There was a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Same as Saturday and Sunday.”
“Did something go wrong?”
“Not a thing but it’s just not the same without you. That’s why I called Garth Hammerstain and told him I didn’t want the solo show.”
Thank you, Lord. “You turned him down?”
“Sure did. He gave me the whole spiel. I knew you’d die of embarrassment if you saw some of those outfits he wanted me to wear. Whoa, talk about cleavage city. And the songs were brainless.”
“You’re staying with me at the theater?”
“Yep. I don’t want to have my own show. We’re a team. It isn’t the same unless we do it together.”
“Sis, that’s the best news I’ve heard...in a while.” She thought about the baby and decided not to say anything yet. She still wanted Archer to be the first person she told.
“Dad there yet?” Heather asked.
“I haven’t seen him.”
“He’s probably already out searching. He called me last night—you believe that? I’m surprised he knew my number.”
“He needs to know about the change in search location.”
“I’ll see if I can get in touch with him.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon?”
“Sure you will. Talk to you later.”
As Jessica hung up, she recalled a dream she’d had last night. She had never put much stock in the portent of dreams but she knew immediately that something had changed for her.
The dream, which even now threatened to disappear from her last wisps of memory, had been more of an impression, really. In it she had been in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, where she and Archer had spent their honeymoon. She’d been standing before the seven-story-tall statue that depicted Christ. Impressed into the shape of that open-armed statue had been many familiar faces. Archer. Mom and Dad Pierce. Shirley Boucher. John and Helen Netz. Jade Myers. Lauren. Grant and Brooke and Beau.
Together, with many others from the church and others fr
om Jessica’s life, they had formed the body. Together, she knew they truly formed the body of Christ, not just some statue.
Of course, intellectually, she had grasped that concept long ago but ever since she joined the Dogwood Springs Baptist Church she had been so overwhelmed by her attempts to be a “pastor’s wife” that she’d been unable to interact with the church the way she needed to—simply as another church member. Part of the problem was that she still didn’t fit into this tightly knit community. Another part of it had been her relationship with Helen Netz.
That had changed. Somewhere along the way she had come to understand Helen, a woman who had been lost in despair since the death of her children and who apparently continued to blame herself for their deaths. She was an injured part of that same body of Christ and she would need extra attention and kindness.
Jessica left the house quietly, allowing her in-laws to sleep in. They had been up late last night and she knew they were tired.
When she pulled into the upper parking lot of the church a few minutes later she saw three other cars parked there, none of which belonged to John and Helen Netz. She had known that the church was being kept open for a round-the-clock prayer vigil until they found Archer—Helen had reminded her of it several times.
She walked silently through the carpeted foyer and entered the sanctuary, then stopped. She had never been in this place without feeling Archer’s presence here.
His presence.
Not God’s presence. Archer’s.
Is that what I’ve been doing?
Five people sat together at the far right front of the sanctuary, and someone spoke in a deep prayer voice that didn’t carry clearly to the back. It sounded like Leo Latshaw. Jessica crept down the aisle as she listened to Leo’s voice grow more distinct.
Not wanting to disrupt them, Jessica crept to the steps beside the communion table and knelt silently. When that prayer ended another began and a soothing presence stole over her. This was her church now. Lauren was right; she needed them. They also needed her.
“Jessica?” someone whispered beside her and placed a hand on her arm.
She looked up to find Jade Myers kneeling down next to her.
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