A Past Refrain

by Brenda Barrett

  "You are quite right; you should get a personal secretary. Make sure she has level two clearance."

  Jayce sighed. He was not in the mood to go secretary hunting. That was the main reason he had been putting it off. "I'll ask Simone to do it; she's the HR person."

  His father shrugged. "Knowing how picky you are, I thought you would want to choose this person for yourself."

  "You are right." Jayce rubbed the back of his neck contemplatively. He knew whom he wanted to be working by his side as his personal assistant. He had one candidate in mind.

  He smiled ruefully at his father. "I'll choose my own secretary."

  "Good. Can you choose her by next week?" The General said, sitting down and frowning. "You have a whole slew of reports for me."

  Jayce got up. "Fine."

  He went to his office, past the empty area where a secretary's desk would fit quite nicely, and sat in his chair. His office was nowhere near as neat as his father's. He had banks of monitors and computers and two desks. One of them was piled high with technical paraphernalia. It was a geek heaven, and it was not all for work, either. He had been working with Xavier on several gaming applications for smart phones. He turned on a monitor and put his feet on the desk, leaning back in his chair and staring at the air vents.

  He wondered what Abigail was doing now; was she breaking some other dude's heart for breakfast? He remembered how he had reached out to her and she had stopped him in his tracks, saying, "It's not you, Jayce, it's me."

  Whenever a person said that it was just a throw-away statement to soothe the other person's ego. Of course it was him. She found something wrong with him. She was just not interested. He could live with that. It was not his first rejection. It's just that this particular rejection hurt. For some strange, unfathomable reason, he was drawn to her like he hadn't been drawn to another woman for more years than he cared to count.

  He contemplated asking her to be his secretary. He didn't even care if she didn't have secretarial experience. He just wanted her close to him.

  The internal phone rang and he picked it up—he should get into work mode. He glanced at the clock. It was eight o'clock on the dot, and the call was from the front desk.

  "Hi Jayce," Cordell, the receptionist, said politely. "A Mr...er...Doctor...Pastor Greenwald is out here to see you."

  Jayce swallowed. He was? Why?

  "Jayce?" Cordell prompted.

  Jayce realized that he had been silent for too long. "Yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes, send him through to my office."

  He put down the phone slowly. From the days he used to date Haley, Pastor Greenwald had always made him feel nervous. He had heard that Greenwald had tried to visit him when he was bedridden from that gunshot wound but Melody had managed to hold him off.

  He should thank Melody once more for the splendid job she performed as his social secretary, nurse, and general dogsbody. He wondered if she wanted to work as his secretary. He dismissed the thought instantly. She would hate it; she loved being the one in charge and would organize and boss him around in his own office. He wanted someone more pliable or obedient as his secretary.

  He smoothed out his shirt and stared at his computer screen, hoping to appear busy. He didn't want the critical eyes of the pastor to find anything wrong with him. Why that should matter now, he wasn't sure, but Pastor Greenwald always had that effect on him.

  Pastor Greenwald's perfume preceded him into the room—a strong, overpowering scent, kind of like the man himself. When he appeared at the door, he opened his eyes widely and looked at Jayce.

  "You look good," he said in greeting. "Younger. Slimmer."

  "Thank you, sir," Jayce said nervously. His last meeting with the man was when he had visited him about the band performing some months ago, and that had been super uncomfortable, with Jayce itching to ask about Haley and the pastor glowering at him as if he had committed some recent sins that he neglected to atone for.

  He had managed to avoid him at church ever since that meeting. That wasn't hard to do because Greenwald was in high demand. The church flock loved his heavy-handed fire and brimstone hard-nosed style. As one person said, "The Lord's presence is back in the church." He had asked why she thought it had gone.

  Greenwald had a friendlier expression on his face now. He was a big, blustery fellow with dark skin, a thick body, and a booming voice. "I heard you were not having visitors when you were ill. I prayed for you nevertheless."

  Jayce nodded. "Thank you. Have a seat." He gestured to one of the three chairs in front of his desk.

  Greenwald sat in the middle chair, placed his briefcase on one of the others, and straightened his tie. He was dressed formally. Jayce sat down, facing him.

  "So how can I help?" he asked.

  Greenwald shook his head. "I am just here to see you as your church pastor. I can never seem to get the chance to see you otherwise. I figured it was the start of the business day and you were at work; you shouldn't be too busy yet."

  "Oh," Jayce said. "Thank you for the concern. I am fine now. I have been back at work for two months now."

  Greenwald nodded. "It is a miracle that you are alive."

  "Yes." Jayce nodded. "It is, and I am grateful."

  "You should share your testimony at church," Greenwald said, leaning back in his chair.

  "I will," Jayce said. "There is nothing much to tell, though—no grand story. I didn't even know what really happened. I was standing at the food line and then I was shot and then I fainted."

  Greenwald half smiled. "The Lord must have spared you for a reason, Jayce. Maybe he is giving you one more chance to make your life right."

  Jayce cleared his throat. "There is nothing overly wrong with my life. I am trying to walk the Christian pathway. Like everybody else, I have my struggles."

  Greenwald nodded. "So are you in a relationship now?"

  "Er..." Jayce felt like fidgeting. Why was Greenwald asking him that? Had he forgotten their history, when he had kicked him out of his house and told him never to contact his daughter again?

  "No, not yet," he said, thinking about Abigail. Maybe he would pursue her despite her deep reluctance to have anything to do with him—and then again, maybe not. Maybe he would ask her if she wanted to work for him. He hadn't made up his mind yet.

  One thing he knew for sure was that he was not going to let her reject him as she had done last night and just let it slide. He needed to know why she couldn't date him.

  Greenwald coughed. "Well, it is not seemly for a Christian man your age to be playing the field."

  Jayce laughed. "I am not playing, nor have I ever played, the field."

  "Really?" the pastor said. "Remember Haley?"

  Jayce grimaced. How could he forget? He didn't think he would ever forget her. "I loved Haley. I wanted to marry her. She was my only girlfriend. You saw us kissing and like a demented madman, you forced us apart."

  "She was too young," Greenwald said, "and that was the right decision."

  Jayce sighed. "Where is Haley now?" he asked, a tendril of pain pinching his heart. Despite himself, he still cared about her. She would always be his first love. What he felt for her had been so potent that he still felt vestiges of the emotion whenever he said her name.

  "I have no idea," the pastor said uncomfortably. "She left the house when I wasn't there and she has not tried to keep in touch. I say good riddance to her."

  "That's cold!" Jayce said. "You don't even know if she's dead or alive."

  "She's not dead." Greenwald snorted. "If she were, I would know. One day she'll be back like the prodigal daughter. If she's no longer rebellious and willful we'll welcome her back with open arms."

  Jayce winced. He wondered how Pastor Greenwald could so easily write off his own child but as he remembered, Haley had not really liked her parents and their rules much. They had gone overboard in their strict routine with her. He wasn't surprised that she hadn't kept in touch with them.

  He had a special apprecia
tion for The General now. As bad as he was and as gruff as his attitude was, Jayce knew that The General would walk through fire before he lost touch with him. The General would rather die than have him out of his life. Of course, The General wouldn't admit that.

  He absently answered all of Pastor Greenwald's questions and said goodbye to him inattentively. The pastor's visit disturbed him. It brought to the fore all his past thoughts about Haley.

  He looked at the clock again. He had tons of work to do, but for just ten minutes he would indulge himself in walking down memory lane. Maybe then he could shake the feeling of unease that he had gotten after talking about Haley.

  September 1994

  At Cedar Hill High the school year had just begun and already Jayce and his friends, Aaron, Logan, Carson, and Ian, were sitting under a tree near the tenth grade block. They had spent most of the summer together in their band and now they were back at school. School could not compare to the excitement of the past summer. They had traveled to other parishes and played at concerts, fairs, and fun days. They had been the main band for a series of evangelistic meetings in July.

  Jayce had still not adjusted, to the rigidity of the school mode after his summer and he had taken with him a fixation on Beres Hammond, the best singer in the entire world in his humble opinion. He had memorized most of his songs over the last few months, even the old ones like I'm So in Love, and he was humming it now.

  Carson snickered, "Jayce, when you love something do you have to sing it over and over again? You are killing us with this one."

  Jayce grinned. "Hush."

  "Well, it would be nice for you to find a girl to sing it to, instead of singing it to us," Logan said.

  "I'll do just that, but it won't be easy," Jayce said. He looked over the crowds of students walking toward their classes. There were several girls walking about briskly. He knew most of them. Cedar Hill High was a private church school, and they were the popular New Song band and well-liked by the girls. Even the shy ones made up excuses to talk to them on a regular basis.

  He hadn't found any girl that he liked yet. Unlike his friends, who would discuss the virtues of several of the females on the campus, he just didn't find anyone attractive. He was actually wondering if something was wrong with him, developmentally. According to most of the health education classes he had been to, teenage boys his age were supposed to be raging balls of hormones just waiting to pounce on the innocent virtues of any girl.

  He certainly didn't like any of the girls he came in contact with—well, maybe at one time he had felt something for Alice Murray but Carson had made it clear to them that Alice was out of bounds to everyone but him. She was the only girl in the band and she only had eyes for Carson, so there wouldn't be any luck there for him, even if he defied Carson and pursued Alice.

  He always wondered what that felt like: the infatuation, the breathless anticipation that his friends seemed to have for some girl or the other. He wondered what it would be like for that girl to look back at him adoringly, and what the ritual of cherishing her and being a couple felt.

  He was still humming the Beres Hammond song when he saw her; she was walking toward the 9th grade block, a book in her hand and a rucksack over her shoulders.

  She wore glasses and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a ribbon at the end of her plait. Who wore ribbons anymore in high school? he thought fondly. She looked refreshingly different to him.

  "I am going to sing the song to her one day," he said, pointing to her even though she was in the distance.

  "Good luck to you and that," Logan snorted. "Her father teaches Biology here. Though I hear that he was a pastor in another parish. I would be afraid of him if I were you. He is built like a tank and when he talks the buildings shake like an earthquake. Besides, she is probably his youngest daughter. I think her name is Haley."

  "How old is she?" Jayce asked, not really hearing Logan's warning about her father. He was staring at the girl in wonder. It was as if on seeing her he was thwacked in the chest with a fist.

  "I don't know," Logan said. "Go ask her, or you could ask her what she's reading, start a conversation. I must warn you, that's my pick-up line."

  The other guys laughed when Jayce got up. "I used to think your pick-up line was corny but not today." He straightened his spine and walked over to where she was standing.

  She had stopped in front of the library. She pushed her glasses, which were a shade too big for her, up her nose and stopped him when he approached.

  "Excuse me," she said. Her lips were the deepest shade of red, almost bordering on black. "Can you help me please, where is 9A?"

  Jayce was pondering if she had on lipstick. He was staring at her so fixedly that he barely heard the question.

  She looked like a cute nerd who was wearing makeup; her skin was that smooth and perfect.

  "You have to tell me your name first…how old you are, and you have to have lunch with me."

  She gasped and clutched her book to her chest. He expected her to storm off. He looked back at the guys and they were watching him intently. He tensed himself for the guffaws that would follow when she walked off but instead she said primly, "The name is Haley. I am fourteen, and of course I will not have lunch with you. I don't know who you are."

  Jayce grinned. "Jayce Morgan, I am sixteen and in final year. Is that too old for you?"

  "You are not too old, just too bold for me," Haley said, grinning. "Besides, I can't be seen with boys. My father thinks all boys are up to no good. Where is 9A?"

  Jayce chuckled. "Your father sounds ominous. I hope I don't have him for Bio class."

  "Me too." Haley grinned. "It's bad enough to have to endure him at home."

  She moved away and then turned back. "Where do you normally have lunch?"

  "At the cafeteria," Jayce said readily.

  "Well, I could sit near to you at lunch time," Haley said, shrugging. "See you then."

  He walked her to her class, and by the time she turned inside and waved to him he knew that he had found her, the girl that would inspire him to be a teenage boy with raging hormones.

  Chapter Four

  Jayce was jerked out of his reminiscing by a telephone ring. He answered it almost reluctantly, so engrossed was he in his memories.

  "We have to meet now," Xavier said excitedly. "I think I made a breakthrough."

  Jayce whistled. "But we just started working on the prototype. You are a genius."

  Xavier chuckled. "Not really. I have a lot of downtime these days, and since Ian finished the house, I was thinking of incorporating some of the security features that you had proposed in the concept. Want to come up to my place? You haven't been there since the housewarming."

  "No," Jayce said, "let's have a lunch meeting close to the office, instead; your place is too far away. I have gazillion things to do this morning. Want to meet at the Searock Cafe?"

  "Sure," Xavier said, "prepare to be amazed."

  "I know I will be," Jayce said.

  He hung up the phone and turned on his monitor. He was looking forward to going to the Searock Cafe for no other reason than that he would see Abigail.

  He sighed. It felt as if his life was mirroring his past. Haley had inspired his teenage heart with longing, and now Abigail was doing the same thing to him as an adult.

  *****

  The Searock Cafe was just a four-minute drive from the office. In fact, he could have walked it and he would have if the day hadn't looked so overcast. The air felt still and heavy, as if there was going to be a serious downpour later on. Even the sea, which was a yard away from the cafe, looked calm—too calm, like it was preparing for some mischief later in the day.

  Jayce glanced in his rearview mirror. He had still not gotten used to his new physique. His gigantic belly was gone and in its place was the beginning of a six-pack. His face was now chiseled, almost like The General's. If he hadn't inherited his mother's light complexion, he could have passed as a younger looking versi
on of his very muscular father.

  He had never seen himself like this before. In high school, he had been skinny. He had gradually packed on the pounds during college, but now he looked just right. Well not quite. He still had a way to go; he wanted to look as fit as The General.

  He straightened up from the mirror, not wanting to appear vain, and looked across at the cafe; as usual, the lunch crowd was swarming the place.

  The Searock was one of those places where the food tasted good and the prices were super-reasonable. He headed to the VIP area, which was upstairs in the air-conditioned section of the restaurant. He could discuss the new prototype with Xavier without the distraction of the downstairs buzz and he could also get to observe Abigail without the usual mad rush. He hoped she would be working in the VIP section.

  Xavier was already ensconced in the far corner of the restaurant when he entered. He was engrossed with something on his computer screen.

  "What's up?" Jayce asked, looking around for Abigail. He sat down, disappointed that she wasn't up there. He saw another waitress, Rachel, working.

  He frowned, trying to concentrate on what Xavier was telling him, but he knew the instant she came into the room. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He watched as she looked around with a notepad in her hand. She made eye contact with him and then inhaled deeply.

  So she isn't uninterested in me then, he thought gleefully. Her body language screamed that she was tense.

  She walked over to them slowly. Today she was wearing the requisite white t-shirt and blue jeans but she had on a colorful red bandana that tied back her long hair and exposed her high cheekbones.

  "What can I get you folks today?" she asked, her voice husky.

  Xavier's head snapped up from the computer and he stared at her with a frown. He looked across at Jayce's dreamy, spaced-out look and pushed him.

  "Uh," Jayce cleared his throat. "Have you always wanted to be a waitress?"