by Myra Johnson
It had to be Micah. We hadn’t really settled anything last Sunday, except to agree to continue exploring where a relationship between us might go. But he still kept a part of himself closed off from me, the part that stubbornly refused forgiveness for a childhood mistake.
Snarling his impatience, Sneezy sidled past me and paced on the landing. With a warbling meow, he stretched his forelegs up and batted the doorknob.
“Suppertime, I know.” I clambered to my feet and opened the door, careful to watch my balance as Sneezy and Brynna rushed into the kitchen ahead of me.
A gasp alerted me to Renata, who stood behind a pile of luggage beside the kitchen table. I skimmed past my usual annoyance at her chronic anxiety around the dog and dove straight into my surprise at seeing her packed and ready to leave.
I set the puppy basket down next to the door. “Wow, when you said your two weeks were up, you meant it literally.”
“It’s been an interesting experience, I’ll give you that. But I must attend to pressing matters back in Little Rock, things that require much more attention than I can manage over the phone.” She checked her diamond-studded Rolex. “I know it doesn’t allow much time for good-byes, but Martin will be here at six with the car.”
“So that’s it? I thought you wanted to talk.”
She cocked her head with a questioning look that reminded me of Brynna. “I meant we could talk on the way to Little Rock.”
“On the way—” I staggered like she’d punched me in the gut. Queen Renata had taken it for granted I’d be returning with her to Channing Castle.
“If you want to shower first, you’d better hurry. I laid out one of my sundresses for you. I think it should fit all right.” She pulled her cell phone from the front pocket of her handbag. “It was just plain thoughtless of me not to bring along a few of those nice outfits we bought you. I was simply too rattled by your suggestion—or maybe I should call it your ultimatum—that I spend two weeks working in a flea market.”
Too stunned to speak, I sank into the nearest chair and watched as she thumbed some buttons on her phone, then informed her chauffeur we might need a little more time.
Two weeks. Two wasted weeks of trying to get beneath Renata’s high-society façade. Now that her tour of duty was up, seemed she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
She tucked the cell phone into her purse. Noticing I hadn’t budged, she shot me a frown. “What are you waiting for, Julie? Don’t you want to freshen up before we leave?”
I leaned back in the chair and stretched out my legs in a wide angle. Toying with the hem of my tie-dyed T-shirt, I glared at her. “How’d you ever get so manipulative, Renata? Does it just come naturally?”
Her eyes widened, and for a split second she appeared genuinely hurt. Then her gaze turned steely. “Control is everything. Someday you’ll learn it for yourself.”
“I hope you’re wrong.” My palm smacked the tabletop, the explosive sound sending both Brynna and Sneezy cowering behind the sofa. “Because I’d never want to live in a world where everything I got came at someone else’s expense. Where the rule is to do unto others before they do it to you. That’s the total opposite of what my grandpa raised me to believe, what everything in me tells me is right.”
“Jenny, Jenny, how can you be so naïve?” Renata turned away, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other resting on her cocked hip. “You’re pretty good at the manipulation game, yourself, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I was too incensed by her accusation to take much notice of the fact that she’d called me Jenny. I rose in a huff. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, please.” She angled a contemptuous smile in my direction. “I concede the importance of my seeing firsthand the life you’ve led up until now, the sacrifices you had to make because of your upbringing. But don’t try to convince me you didn’t have ulterior motives. Admit it, you enjoyed watching me endure such awful drudgery again.”
“Enjoy? No!” I stepped toward her, hands extended. “What I hoped more than anything was that you’d rediscover something of who you really are. Rennie Pearl, from Hot Springs. The girl who used to hope and dream and . . . love.”
Her jaw trembled. Her mouth twisted into something hideous. “Rennie Pearl doesn’t exist anymore. And whatever hopes and dreams she may have had are at the bottom of Lake Hamilton with—”
The slamming of a car door interrupted her. She hurried to the door and peered out the glass. “Martin is here,” she said without looking at me. “I assume I’ll be returning alone?”
In two long strides I was at her side. I seized her elbow. “Finish what you were saying. At the bottom of Lake Hamilton with Jenny, is that it? Renata, have you looked at the DNA results?”
“I told you, I don’t need to. I meant—” Shaking off my grip, she closed her eyes in silent despair. Martin appeared on the other side of the door and tapped softly. She drew in a rasping breath and reached for the knob. “Come in, Martin. My bags are over there.”
I had no choice but to back away and allow the chauffeur inside. Renata held the door as he hefted her luggage and started downstairs. When he was out of earshot, she slid her gaze toward me, and a strange, mad smile curved her lips. “You’re my sister, Jenny. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”
Before I could blink twice, she’d closed the space between us and wrapped her arms around me. I stood stiff as a two-by-four as she planted a kiss on my cheek and whispered sweetly in my ear, “Do come for a visit soon, dear. Your room will always be ready.”
A moment later she was gone.
~~~
“I think she’s crazy. I honestly think she’s certifiably insane.”
It was Tuesday, and Sandy asked me to meet her for lunch at the Dixie Café in Hot Springs. She sliced off a bite of her chicken-fried steak and swirled it through the thick, peppery cream gravy. “Then you’re lucky she’s gone. I suspected it from the start, Julie. And Micah warned you too. The woman is nothing but trouble.”
“I know, but . . .” I pushed my practically untouched hamburger away and stared through the front window as noontime traffic crept along Central Avenue. “If she really is my sister, I owe it to her to try to help somehow.” The memory of all those pills on the bathroom counter brought a twinge to my belly. I still wrestled with unspoken fears that if both Renata and our mother suffered from mental illness, I might someday be in the market for a straightjacket myself.
“Key word—if she’s your sister. And even if it’s true, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. Renata Channing may be too far gone even for someone as persistent as you. Face it, Julie. She isn’t another one of your strays that you can win over with patience and affection.”
Our waitress came over with a pitcher of iced tea. “Can I get y’all anything else? Blackberry cobbler? Coffee?”
“I’ll have some cobbler.” Sandy took a gulp of iced tea. “With ice cream and decaf, please.”
“Nothing for me, thanks.” As the waitress sauntered away, I grinned at Sandy and shook my head. “Only someone with your metabolism could get away with chicken-fried steak and blackberry cobbler a là mode in the same meal.”
Sandy polished off the last of her baked squash. “Couldn’t keep eating like this if Micah didn’t have me hopping around all day like a jackrabbit on steroids.”
Even though Micah and I had been spending more time together, we seemed to have reached a tacit agreement not to discuss Renata or anything connected with the past, so I’d avoided asking where things stood with the resort. I twirled the straw in my iced tea glass. “What’s he got keeping you so busy?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been running redrawn plans and documents back and forth to city hall, contractors, architects, you name it.”
“Redrawn—? I don’t understand.”
She shot me a wide-eyed stare. “You really don’t know?”
I crossed my arms, irritation lacing my tone. “If I did, would I be a
sking?”
“Let’s see.” Looking toward the ceiling, Sandy tapped her jaw with her index finger. When she met my gaze again, her reply dripped with sarcasm. “Only completely revising every plan he’d ever made for the resort.”
Something told me I should be worried. Very worried. “Revising how, exactly?”
Chewing her lip, Sandy studied me as if she couldn’t quite decide how to answer. Finally she said, “If Micah hasn’t told you, I’m not sure it’s my place to say. You should hear it from him.”
“But you’re my best friend.” I reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “Sandy, please!”
“I’m sorry, Jules. I love you, but I value my job too much.” Her apologetic frown only went so far in soothing my extremely ruffled feathers.
I ground my teeth. “Then at least tell me when this all started.”
She dropped her gaze. “Exactly one week ago yesterday.”
One week ago yesterday. The day after Micah had admitted his feelings for me.
Micah Hobart, what in heaven’s name are you up to?
I snagged my purse and shoved out of the booth. “Are you finished? Let’s go.”
After dropping Sandy at the La Quinta, I drove straight to the old resort. I’d had enough of Micah’s secrets, and if he didn’t care to fill me in on his change of plans, I’d have to see it for myself.
Only there wasn’t much left to see. Beyond the chain-link construction fence, Micah’s crews had leveled the cabins, bulldozed the cracked driveway into a pile of concrete rubble, ripped out tree stumps, and planted surveyor’s flags in a hodgepodge pattern only an expert could interpret. The only original building still standing was the main house, but with the rotted porches torn away and the windows boarded up, it gaped like a toothless monster.
A temporary access road had been carved along the south side of the house. Down the hill where the road branched off to the boat dock, I spotted Micah’s pickup. He stood on the dock with another man in a yellow construction helmet, both of them poring over a fat wad of curling blueprints. I shuffled down the road, red dirt sifting through the weave of my huaraches. When I called Micah’s name, he looked up, his initial surprise morphing into a boyish grin.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” I said with a wave. It took great effort to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Just thought I’d see what all you’ve done so far.”
With a funny half-smile, Micah returned to his conversation, and I picked my way across the demolition debris until I was standing about where I thought the cabin used to be where we’d found Brynna. A sadness crept into my heart, like I was missing something I’d never really had the chance to know.
I felt Micah’s hand on my shoulder. “Looks different, huh?”
“I hardly recognize the place. You’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” My gaze swept the back of the house, and I noticed the brick patio and retaining wall were gone, leaving a wide swath of bare ground. I released a shaky breath.
Micah drew me to his side. “I know it looks bad right now, but when we finish, it’ll be like new.” A strange light came into his eyes. “Like nothing ever changed.”
“Like new?” I shot him a puzzled frown.
“Come with me, Julie. I’ve got something to show you.” Taking my hand, Micah strode toward his pickup. He reached in the open driver’s side window and pulled out a long cardboard tube. Uncapping one end, he withdrew a rolled drawing and spread it open across the hood of the pickup.
Looking past his shoulder, I studied the architect’s full-color rendering of the completed resort. It looked nothing like the modern split-level condominium complex I’d seen in the drawings Micah had posted in the La Quinta suite.
It looked everything like how I’d pictured Pearls Along the Lake in its heyday, from the sky-blue gingerbread trim on the main house to the string of pristine white cabins marching along the shore.
And in the legend at the bottom right corner, instead of HAMILTON HAVEN, the artsy block lettering read PEARLS ALONG THE LAKE.
“Micah, it’s beautiful.” Prickles danced up my spine. I stared at him with puckered brows. “But . . . why?”
He leaned against the front grill of the pickup, tucking me under his arm as he gazed across the lake. “For you, Julie. To give you back what was stolen from you. And for me. Because I realized it’s the only way I’ll ever put the past to rest.”
CHAPTER 35
Work continued on the resort through the rest of a long, sultry summer, and I visited often to check the progress. Micah seemed so proud of his work. He smiled more and laughed freely, as if some neglected garden deep inside him were springing to life. In mid-August he canceled the lease on his Hot Springs apartment and rented a small house with a fenced yard, then selected one of Brynna’s puppies as his own. The other two also went to loving homes, I’m happy to say, one to my pastor’s family and the other to the Swap & Shop’s own Maddie Barton. (Maddie’s five cats raised a protest, but I was told they adapted quickly.)
I sat next to Micah on his back stoop one evening just enjoying the quietness, his company, and a few stolen kisses that made my lips tingle with the hunger for more.
Much more.
We drew apart from one such blissful moment to see Micah’s puppy, aptly named Pepper because of the black-and-white flecks on his chin, chasing a grasshopper across the lawn. He tripped over his own big feet, tumbling like a roly-poly bug, and Micah and I both laughed out loud.
Then a shivery sigh shook me, and I reached for Micah’s hand.
He squeezed back. “What are you thinking, Julie?”
“Oh, same as always.”
“Renata?”
“Who else?” I propped one elbow on my knee and rested my chin in my hand. “I was just thinking it’s a shame she’ll never know the joy of loving on a puppy.” I’d given about five minutes’ consideration to driving one of the pups over to Little Rock and offering it to Renata. What better way to show her what a devoted companion a dog could be . . . and maybe breach the stone-cold wall she’d erected between us?
Except I figured the puppy and I both would get the same chilly reception.
Pepper got bored with the grasshopper and presented his belly for Micah to scratch. Micah willingly obliged. “Have you heard from Renata even once since she spent those two weeks at the Swap & Shop?”
“Believe me, I’d have told you if I had.” The only word I’d gotten from her after she left was a big brown UPS truck pulling into our parking lot to deliver a large parcel addressed to me. Inside were the clothes I’d arrived with that first day, plus all the shoes and outfits she’d given me. Those items I’d promptly turned over to Dovie and Royce Buckles to be tagged for resale in their Glad Rags booth. I needed no reminders of my bizarre and thankfully short-lived stay in the lap of luxury.
Micah’s jaw muscles worked beneath his beard. “It’s for the best, her leaving you alone.”
“I know, and I’m trying as hard as I can to put it behind me and move on.” My shoulders sagged under a weight that only grew heavier and heavier, no matter how hard I tried to shrug it off. I leaned my head against Micah’s arm. “You—us—it’s the one good thing that’s come out of this mess.”
Pepper yipped and nibbled my bare toe. Laughing, I tickled him behind his ears. “And you and your mama dog, of course.”
“Speaking of dogs . . .” Micah shifted so our knees were touching. A shy grin lit his face. “I’ve been working on a surprise. I hope you won’t be mad that I went behind your back, but I didn’t want to say anything until . . .”
“Micah?” I tilted my head to stare into the shadowy depths beneath his thick, dark brows.
He lowered his gaze, and his voice softened to barely above a whisper. “In the short time we’ve known each other, it’s become pretty clear what’s most important to you. Your grandpa. The Swap & Shop. All your friends in Caddo Pines.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and smirked. “And your pets, natur
ally.”
His words made me smile deep down where all my best memories reside. I sat straight as a broomstick and tucked my hands into my lap. “You’re leaving out one hugely important thing.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“You.”
Grinning, he pulled me into the crook under his arm and released a huff, his breath hot against my cheek. “Are you going to let me tell you my surprise or not?”
“Okay, okay. Tell me your surprise.”
“Humph. If that’s your attitude—”
“Micah!”
His raspy chuckle drained off some of my crabbiness. “Okay, here goes. I’ve asked my architect to draw up some plans to remodel the Swap & Shop.”
Not exactly the surprise I was imagining. My eyes got wide, and I pulled in a long breath through my nostrils. “Wow, that’s really nice of you, Micah, but we can barely cover our expenses as it is. There’s no extra money in the budget for remodeling.”
“You don’t understand. This is something I want to do for you.”
“But you’re already rebuilding the resort for me. I can’t let you—”
“Now hear me out, okay? Instead of those flimsy plywood booth partitions, I’m thinking office-grade cubicles with adjustable shelving.” He spoke with his hands, his eyes taking on a distant look. “And we can enlarge and modernize the apartment, add some conveniences to make life easier for your grandpa. I’ve seen how he huffs and puffs going up and down the stairs, so we’ll put in an elevator shaft accessible from inside or out. Then maybe a deck and pergola out back, and a fenced yard where the pets can play . . . Julie?”
My mouth must be doing that fish thing again. There were a jillion things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t seem to put two sensible words together.
Micah just laughed. “Is my Julie finally speechless?”
“No—yes—but why—?” While I tried to decide whether I should be thrilled or annoyed or downright terrified at having him move into my life in such a huge and tangible way, one teensy part of me got stuck on those two little words—my Julie.
