Josh and Emma fell asleep on the ride home. Dorie snuggled them in bed, then fixed herself a cup of hot chocolate. She let her gaze roam the living room. She should buy the house from Daddy, make it truly hers, rather than rent it. Remodeling ideas took root. She’d take more responsibility for her life and not depend on Daddy or any other man to arrange it for her.
And if she lost her job? God had provided so far and He’d continue to do so. She also would soon have a sister-in-law to share new recipes with. Amazing how the whole family wound up together in this town, a town four years ago Dorie didn’t even know existed. A town she initially despised. Now, Midville owned her heart. A butterfly doesn’t know the moment it becomes a butterfly. One day, the cocoon breaks and it flies away, forever changed.
Her thoughts drifted to Jamey’s news. She wanted to be happy for him. Instead anger filled the place where she’d hoped love would bloom. How dare he desert Midville and the people who admired him? Mary Hatch knew the same simple truth that now welled within Dorie. Home is not an address. It’s where the heart lives.
Chapter Twenty-six
Dorie awoke ahead of the alarm, the air like icy fingers gripping her legs. If only she could stay under the covers for the rest of the day. She listened for footsteps. All was quiet on the home front, the children still sound asleep—she hoped. She opened her Bible and read from Romans chapter twelve:
Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
How differently she viewed her circumstances than she had a month ago. Had God begun the process even before she realized she needed an overhaul?
“Mommy! My bed’s wet.”
So much for sitting down to worship. She sang a medley of choruses as she stripped the bed and threw the soiled linen into the washing machine. A quieting presence followed her through the morning rituals. Who says praise has to be done on bended knee in a closet?
She helped Emma wash up, then woke Josh. While he dressed, she made scrambled eggs and packed his lunch. When she put money in his backpack, she gasped with delight. His books were stacked and folders neatly labeled, by a six-year-old’s standards at least.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Josh tumbled down first and then Emma without Mr. Bear.
“Sweetie, where’s Mr. Bear?”
“He doesn’t want to come to school with me today. I told him that would be okay.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dorie checked her watch as they headed for the car. How could they be early? She must have forgotten something. She ran a mental checklist. No, all systems were go. She’d even remembered to put Boomer in the cellar.
“Routine,” Jamey had said. Had she finally found that elusive, predictable existence?
***
Dorie arrived before Sherrie. That feat alone should find its way into the Midville Record. Dorie prepared the coffee, headed to her office, and booted up the computer. Soon the comforting scent of French vanilla wafted upstairs, inviting her back to the break room. She filled her cup without spilling a drop.
Sherrie bowled in.
The one person Dorie hoped to avoid today if she were to keep Jamey’s secret. “I’m going back up now. I expect a phone call from the point of sale tech team any minute.”
“They called after you left Wednesday. They want to install the new registers tomorrow. I left the message on your desk. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. By the way, Mr. Sullivan should be in late this afternoon. He got back from New York City late last night. He has meetings lined up all morning. He sounded real mysterious, he wouldn’t give any explanation, and he’s had a lot of conversations with his agent. Now Mr. Sullivan’s bringing Mr. Harwood by to look over the stores. Don’t like the sound of that. Branson Harwood’s been trying to buy out Sullivan Industries for years.”
“I met Brandy Harwood at the Boy Scout banquet. He didn’t seem like the greedy type.”
“You met Branson Harwood, Sr.? His son took over the business ten years ago. I’m telling you, the apple fell far from the tree when it came to young Branson. He’s nothing like his father. I would hate working for him.”
“I’m sure Jamey knows what’s best for the business.” Sherrie had the most to lose of anyone if Sullivan’s was bought out. “Water finds its own level, they say.”
“More like it sifts through the cracks and breaks up a good foundation. I like the old way better.”
Dorie trudged upstairs, her good mood obliterated.
The morning stole by like a thief on the prowl. At noon, Elton brought her a paper plate loaded with pepperoni pizza. As she wolfed it down, Jamey and another man approached her desk.
“Dorie, I’d like you to meet Branson Harwood.”
If Jamey didn’t sell out, she’d fix that too-quiet stairwell. She swiped a napkin across her mouth and then wiped her fingers. Jamey smiled at her, but she refused to smile back at a traitor. She extended her hand to Sherrie’s worst nightmare.
“A pleasure, I’m sure.” The younger Branson flashed the same polished smile as his father, a living portrait of the mayor at age forty. If Sherrie’s assessment was correct, their similarities ended with appearances.
“As you can see, the layout’s a little awkward. I have to intrude on Dorie’s space to get to my office.” Jamey gestured to his left. “Please make yourself comfortable in my cubicle. I need to go over a few things with Dorie.”
“My father mentioned Jamey’s good fortune in hiring you, Mrs. Fitzgerald.” Rather than taking a seat, Branson leaned against the wall like a panther ready to pounce.
Jamey spoke in low tones. “Gillian told me that you know about my moving to New York City. She never could keep a secret.”
“Congratulations, Jamey. I hope it’s what you want.
***
Dorie drove home, her carbonated emotions bubbling non-stop. Gabe entered her thoughts for the first time since they’d ended their relationship. It was too late for regrets. She shook her thoughts aside. No, marriage to Gabe could have brought only disaster for both of them.
Until Devon died, she never imagined being anything besides a wife and mother, roles she loved. But these past few weeks given her a taste of a career. She craved more.
How could Jamey do this to her—and to Sherrie and Elton? She gripped the steering wheel, wishing it were Jamey Sullivan’s neck.
***
Jamey tossed his pen onto the desk. Could he really sell Sullivan’s? Pop wanted him to. So why the hesitation? This piece of paper was not permanent, just a mere memorandum of understanding while negotiations continued. Jim Brody and Pop’s attorney had drafted it, putting Sullivan’s under Harwood receivership until the sale was finalized.
Jamey reread the clauses and financial assurances. The gentleman’s agreement he made with Junior would secure Dorie’s future. These were reasonable solutions to a situation requiring immediate action, and Harwood would be well compensated for stepping in on short notice. Everyone benefited.
Could life be that perfect? There had to be a glitch, but what? This purchase agreement seemed right on many levels—a win-win proposition.
Jamey wiped his brow. Then why did his heart ache?
“Problem, Jamey?” Harwood might as well salivate for all his eagerness.
“No problem whatsoever.” Jamey clicked his pen and scribbled his signature.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dorie scanned the auditorium, drinking in the buzz of last minute theater production routines. Zeke slumped into a seat next to Dorie and pulled his greasy cap half over his eyes. “The set looks pretty good, don’t you think? Danny designed it. Men in Baseball Caps built it.”
Dorie laughed. “Is that a description or a club?”
“Pretty clever how they put all the sets on a turntable.” Dorie scoured the auditorium for Josh. She spotted him two rows behind, sitting with the Stanton boys.
Zeke rested his head against the back of his seat. “When are your parents coming home?”
“A week from Wednesday.”
“Bet you’ll be glad.”
Evie held up her hand for silence. “Now that you’re all seated, here are your production notes.” Each player received an individualized booklet containing costume instructions, needed props, and a drawing of the stage with exits and entrances. “There’s no curtain except at intermission and the end. We’ll have blackouts between scenes. Wait until the exiting actors get off and the table turns before you go onstage. I’ll be backstage to cue you.”
Reverend Stanton raised his hand. “Where’s the prop table?”
“If you turn to page four, you’ll see a drawing of the prop table and where each prop belongs. You’re all responsible to get your own props and to make sure they are returned to the proper place.”
Zeke stiffened. “If Evie weren’t so skinny, I’d like to bring her down a few sizes. She gets on my nerves with this commando routine of hers. You’d think every prop belonged to her personally.”
The players took the stage as Jamey entered. Evie’s face drooped into a deeper frown than usual. “Nice of you to make it, Mr. Sullivan. I’m sure you have a good reason for being late.”
“That I do. I’ll tell you later.”
Dorie sighed. Hadn’t God heard her prayers that Jamey would change his mind? How could he leave? Resentment twisted her heart.
Danny Riley came to center stage. “Places, everyone. Let’s take it from the top.”
Dorie noticed Jamey and Danny huddled in the wings. She moved her thoughts toward Gabe and Susan as they rehearsed. Did Gabe deliberately try to imitate Jimmy Stewart, or were his halting phrases a cover-up for not knowing his lines?
“Do you want the moon, Mary?” Gabe held Susan in a romantic embrace, much closer than the script required. They rubbed cheeks and gazed at an imaginary sky. Apparently, Gabe’s shattered heart mended quickly.
Danny yelled from behind the curtain. “Everyone take a ten-minute break.”
Before Dorie could get out of her seat, Zeke jumped off the stage and rejoined her. “That Gabe is always the last one to learn his lines. At least he nails them by opening performance.”
Jamey sneaked up from behind. “You should talk, Zeke. You’re nearly as bad. And you always have the fewest to learn.”
Zeke laughed and elbowed Dorie. “He’s right, you know.”
Jamey turned toward Dorie, his eyes red as if he hadn’t slept in two days. “I’d like to talk with you—someplace private.”
Well, I don’t want to talk to you. Not if this is goodbye.
***
In Jamey’s fantasy, Dorie cried when he told her the news. She kissed him and begged him not to go. Reality rarely mimicked his beautiful dreams—only his nightmares. He ushered her into an empty music room, then closed the door. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Go ahead. Just say it.”
“You confuse me.”
“Speaking in precise terms has never been a strong suit of mine.”
Apparently, Dorie was determined to dig a trench and park. Not what he hoped for. Jamey leaned in. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I like you.”
Dorie folded her arms and inched toward him. “I like you too.”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” Her thin smile answered for her. “You know how I feel about you.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” Could he say the words and still leave her?
“I love you.”
“How can you say that and then skip town? You are leaving, right? Isn’t that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“There are reasons to stay.”
“Like what?”
Why couldn’t he take her into his arms and end this turmoil? “For one thing, Pop’s not good. The doctor doesn’t think he’ll see spring. Leaving him like this is hard enough.”
Her eyes misted. “I’m sorry, Jamey. Anything I can do?”
“Not really. I appreciate your prayers.”
“Prayers are a given between friends.”
She shredded him with that last remark. “Is that what we are now?”
“I don’t know what we are. You tell me.”
He stepped back a few paces. If he stayed this close to her, he’d lose every bit of resolve. Anger reared—resentment toward a town and a sick father that put him in this position. Now he railed at an innocent whose only fault was her desirability. “I can’t get involved right now. Your kids deserve permanence. I’m done with comment. I’ve given everything I had to this town and now it’s my turn. What I deserve. If I don’t go now, Midville will devour me and everything I ever dreamed of.”
He gripped her shoulders and her eyes widened. Had he been too rough?
Dorie backed away from him.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the first moment I saw you—at tryouts. And I was relieved when you started dating Gabe, even though I knew you two were wrong for each other.”
“I don’t understand. What are you trying to tell me?”
“Being an actor was all I ever dreamed about when I was growing up. After college, I filmed a few commercials, landed a bit part in a movie, and I was on my way. Or so I thought. Then Pop got sick, so I came back to Midville. I thought my career was over. Then an agent happened to be vacationing in the North Country and caught our last production, Ten Little Indians. He signed me on, and now, the opportunity of a lifetime with Branson Harwood offering the sweetest deal we could hope for. My dream is about to come true, and all I can feel is the pain of losing you.”
“Could be that I’m just another excuse.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe you’re afraid you’ll fail.”
No matter how true, the words still stung. “I’m not afraid to love you, Dorie.” He pulled her to him and their lips met—a short taste of heaven until she pulled away from him. Fear gnawed his insides. “Come with me, Dorie.”
“You know I can’t.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“It’s too complicated. I won’t uproot the kids again. And I won’t have this between us. Life isn’t a script. Mary Hatch should have encouraged George to fly, not trap him into a life he didn’t want. She used his love for her, and he stayed.”
“They were happy.”
“But would we be happy? I love you too much to do that to you. Midville will be poorer without you. Everyone will move on and I will too.”
With that she walked away, leaving him with the only exit possible.
***
Dorie wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Jamey’s footsteps, six paces behind hers, resounded through the hall, echoing her despair. She welcomed the darkness when she returned to the auditorium.
Jamey scuffled past her and up onto the stage, where he pulled Danny Riley into a huddle. Within moments, Danny moved upstage. “I need everyone’s attention, please.”
Quiet took residence.
“Before we get going again, I have a cast change to announce. Zeke Fournier will play the part of Clarence in Jamey’s absence.”
A chorus of surprised exclamations preceded an oppressive hush.
“Jamey is heading for New York City tomorrow. He’s landed a part in a revival production of Our Town.”
The auditorium exploded with enthusiastic congratulations, but Dorie’s arms sta
yed at her side. How could she applaud with a broken heart?
Susan Davidson rushed toward the group shaking Jamey’s hand but stopped when she saw Dorie. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She covered Dorie’s hand with hers. “Even in this light, I can see you’ve been crying.”
Dorie let a few tears fall as Jamey rushed out of the auditorium and away from Midville. He’d made his choice.
What now? Branson Harwood would have his own managerial staff who would streamline Sullivan Enterprises to his idea of efficiency. Dorie would be one data analyst too many. She envisioned a new stack of rejection letters as she began the whole job-hunting process again.
Mary Hatch gave up her honeymoon to keep the Building and Loan afloat when the stock market crashed. She understood the Bailey legacy would wind up in evil Mr. Potter’s control if she did nothing. Sacrificing a honeymoon was small potatoes in the overall scheme of things.
Dorie rarely wished she was wealthy, but if she could have bought Sullivan Enterprises, she could have prevented the company from sliding into Junior’s slimy hands. She’d have kept the name too.
Though she lacked no creature comfort, she suddenly felt poor. Nothing more she could do except pray.
***
Josh fell asleep on the ride home from rehearsal, and Dorie hated to wake him. He stumbled out of the car and into the house. She helped him off with his coat and let him crash on the couch, while Sherrie put on her coat.
“Thanks again for offering to babysit Emma for rehearsals until my mother gets back.”
“My treat. Emma is so much joy to be around. You’re very blessed to have such beautiful children.”
That I am.
“How was practice?”
Dorie couldn’t answer.
“I already heard the news about the sale of Sullivan Enterprises. Mr. Sullivan called me to let me know before he went to rehearsal. I’m truly happy for him, but that Junior Harwood gives me the creeps. And it takes a lot for me not to like a person.”
Dorie pushed her fear inward. “His father seems nice.”
It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long Page 15
