“I’m taking an early lunch because I’m watching my grandson’s football game this afternoon,” Mrs. Jamison explained, unwrapping her chicken and salad sandwich.
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Phoebe opened her lunch box and wished she’d made a sandwich instead of bringing leftover pasta.
“Yes. I don’t get to watch often.” Pausing, she turned and faced Phoebe. “So, how are you doing?”
Phoebe winced. This was the exact question she’d been dreading. It was the last thing she wanted to discuss, and Mrs. Jamison would be very aware of that. “Oh, you know,” she replied with a fake smile as she twiddled her fork.
“I may know a lot about human behaviour, Phoebe, but that doesn’t mean I know what’s going on inside your head.” Her eyes were filled with kindness. “If you ever need to talk to anyone, you know I’m here, don’t you?” Mrs. Jamison patted her arm lightly.
Suddenly losing her appetite, Phoebe set her fork down and stared at her nails. Could she tell Mrs. Jamison what she was really thinking or feeling? Could she tell her about the grief that still weighed her down daily? Would she understand?
Phoebe wasn’t the first person to lose a fiancé, but that didn’t make handling it any easier. It didn’t stop her from feeling alone. It didn’t stop her from wondering why God had allowed her to lose Reed, just weeks before their wedding. She tried so hard to trust Him, and she knew that God loved her, but nevertheless, she struggled to understand. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “It’s been hard to find anyone to talk with who really understands.”
Mrs. Jamison nodded, her eyes full of compassion. Most people didn’t know what to say, and simply offered their condolences, but they had no idea of the extent of the grief she still felt. Phoebe didn’t blame them. How could they know if they hadn’t lost someone special?
She took a deep breath. “Trying to explain how I felt after Reed passed away has seemed impossible, as if all of the words I had died with him.”
“Grief does that sometimes,” Mrs. Jamison said. “It’s easier to keep it bottled than try to explain it.”
“Yes,” Phoebe replied. “I don’t think I’ve truly accepted that Reed will never be my husband. All those years of loving him and planning our future together, they mean nothing anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“It takes time, Phoebe, and it’s okay to grieve. But it’s also good to talk about it,” Mrs. Jamison said softly, passing her a tissue.
Phoebe nodded and dabbed her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m mourning most. The Reed I miss, or the Reed Fisher I dreamed of as my husband. We should have been married by now.”
“I understand. It seems that all of your dreams died with him.”
Phoebe nodded. That was exactly it.
“But I’m proud of you, Phoebe. The way you’ve handled yourself has been an example to all. But you don’t need to pretend you’re strong if you’re not. It really is okay to show that you’re grieving. People will understand.”
Phoebe smiled weakly as memories of that day flooded back, three weeks before their wedding, when she got the phone call that changed her life. She recalled the dread that filled her when she heard that Reed was in critical condition. She couldn’t believe it was him. They’d gotten it wrong and it was someone else. It couldn’t be him.
But it was. And he didn’t make it. Her fiancé, the one she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with, was dead.
She burst into tears as the all familiar ache tore through her heart once again. Mrs. Jamison shifted closer and embraced her while she wept against the older woman’s chest.
After she calmed, Mrs. Jamison suggested she take the rest of the day off, but Phoebe said no, she was fine. It was better to be at school with her class of five-year-olds than to be at home, moping.
“That’s exactly the attitude I was talking about, Phoebe. You’re doing so well, but if you need time off, make sure you take it. Okay?”
Phoebe nodded, but doubted she would.
She’d made plans to meet up with her closest friend, Holly Mathison, later that afternoon. After the emotionally draining day, she was tempted to cancel, but in the end, decided to go.
Arriving first at Aroma, their favourite coffee shop, she chose a booth. Holly arrived a few minutes late, which didn’t surprise Phoebe at all since Holly was always late for everything. Phoebe raised her hand and waved her over, standing to give her friend a hug.
Tall and curvy with fair skin, blue eyes and straight sandy hair, Holly was Phoebe’s complete opposite. Being petite, Phoebe had to stretch up on her toes to hug her friend.
“Sorry I’m late,” Holly said, wincing as she slid into the booth opposite Phoebe.
Phoebe tried not to laugh. “You mean this time, right?”
“Yeah, okay, I know. I’m always late. Funny,” Holly replied with sarcasm.
“True, but I love you anyway.”
“Good! How are those chicks of yours doing?
Phoebe chuckled as she sipped her water. Every year she borrowed eggs from a local farmer and brought them into her classroom. She set them under a heat lamp, and her class of five-year-olds watched and waited eagerly for the little chicks to hatch. “They’re doing great. Come and see them before I send them back to the farmer.”
Holly smiled. “I might just do that.”
The waitress delivered the coffees Phoebe had ordered when she arrived. Holly stirred a sachet of sugar into hers, and then, wrapping her hands around the mug, put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “So, remember what I was saying about having the travel bug?”
“Yep. I seem to recall you told me that it’s the only infection you’d ever volunteer for,” Phoebe replied with a laugh.
“Exactly. I’ve been thinking through a few things.” Pausing, Holly sipped her coffee. “Let me tell you my thoughts, then let me pose a question.”
Phoebe tilted her head. This wasn’t the sort of conversation they typically had.
“So,” Holly continued, “I’m planning to go travelling for three months, and I finally decided, due to finances and proximity, to do a backpacking trip in Southeast Asia.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Phoebe smiled as she imagined her adventurous friend travelling through the countryside, seeing amazing sights, riding elephants, visiting temples.
“Yeah, it’s going to be amazing. I’ve already looked into the details and requirements of visas and shots. I’ll start in Cambodia and stay until I feel like moving on to the next place. There are some amazing organisations to volunteer at as well. I’ll be going as a tourist, but I’ve already contacted a few places about volunteering for a few days or even a week, just helping wherever I can.”
“That sounds great.” Phoebe tried not to sound jealous.
“Yeah. I’ve already had one orphanage say they’re inundated with volunteers, and it breaks the kids’ hearts whenever they leave. I don’t want to be a part of that, but another place has invited me to do a three-day English tutorial with some of the older kids they work with,” Holly continued.
“Seriously? That’s great. Is it an orphanage as well?” Phoebe asked.
Holly shook her head. “No. They’re mainly girls who’ve been rescued from brothels they were trafficked into.”
“Oh, gosh.” Phoebe’s hand flew to her mouth. She knew these things happened, but the thought of it was too horrific to imagine.
“I know. And that leads me to my question.” Pausing, Holly twiddled a lock of hair and held Phoebe’s gaze.
“Yes…” Somehow, she knew what Holly was about to ask and her heartbeat quickened.
“You’ve had a rough year, Phoebe. You’ve suffered pain and trauma—”
“Yes, but nothing like what those girls have gone through,” Phoebe interjected, unable to move her thoughts past what she’d just heard.
“Maybe, but that doesn’t lessen your pain.” Holly gripped her hand. “You’ve been making such an effort to be brave and to get through your suffe
ring, but Phoebe, you need time away.”
Phoebe knew exactly where Holly was going, and she didn’t take much convincing. Both Mrs. Jamison and Holly were right. She needed some time off. Drawing a steadying breath, she held Holly’s gaze. “I’m in. When do we leave?”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Just like that? My practical friend is willing to make a spontaneous decision?”
Phoebe smiled. “I’m more than willing. I’m raring to go. When do we leave?”
Chapter 3
From the moment he laid eyes on Kailey, the woman his brother had recommended he take to dinner, Nicholas knew she wasn’t his type, despite Alden assuring him they had much in common.
After arriving at the restaurant and being shown to a table, he made the mistake of complimenting her dress. He didn’t know what else to say, and as soon as the words flowed from his mouth, he wished he could take them back. The story that followed was a run-on sentence about the fact that she’d purchased a different dress the day before. Apparently, after trying it on again at home, she didn’t feel it highlighted an ample part of her body that she clearly took pride in. Well, this outfit certainly did. Nicholas made every effort to not be completely distracted by the dress that showed off her favourite feature very well. For a first date, it didn’t make the right impression at all. Well, not for him, at least.
Maybe she was just nervous. He’d give her the benefit of the doubt, but if first impressions were anything to go by, there wouldn’t be a second date.
“So, I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t like it that much. You know what I mean?” Leaning forward, she revealed even more of her ample features while sipping her wine.
Nicholas nodded, planting a fake smile on his face. “Y-yeah, I get what you mean. I have trouble finding dresses all the time.” He hoped a joke might distract her. It didn’t work. She tilted her head like she was confused. Maybe she thought he was some sort of freak who liked to wear women’s clothing. Jokes obviously weren’t going to work.
He gestured for the waiter. They already had their wine, but it was time to order and he’d been subtly perusing the menu during the previous conversation. “You order first,” he said with his smile still firmly planted.
“Thank you.” His date looked up at the waiter and batted her long eyelashes. “What’s the duck comfort? It’s really expensive, so I’m guessing it’s good?”
Nicholas managed to keep a straight face while the waiter smiled politely. “Oui, Madame. The duck confit is one of our best dishes. C’est très bien.”
Nicholas had chosen this restaurant not only because they served authentic French cuisine, but it was owned and run by a family who’d emigrated from France and they were passionate about their food and culture. The fact that the dinner was likely to cost him an arm and a leg was moot point until he actually met Kailey. Now he knew the dinner would likely be wasted on her.
“So, what do you enjoy doing?” he asked once they’d placed their orders.
She took a large sip of wine. “Hmmm… let me see.” Pausing, she adjusted the straps on her dress. Nick averted his gaze. “I like to watch football.”
“Really?” Interest piqued, he turned his head and faced her. “I love football. I play occasionally, but I don’t know many women who enjoy it.”
Her eyes lit up. “I started watching when my ex was playing. I could barely take my eyes off all those hunky guys.”
Nicholas groaned inwardly. So much for thinking they might share an interest. But maybe they had other things in common. “What about reading?” he asked, suggesting another pastime he enjoyed.
“Oh, I love to read!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “There’s a new local author who’s especially good. Helen something or other. She writes modern romance about witches in Sydney. It’s so entertaining!”
Again, Nicholas was left disappointed. He hadn’t expected Kailey to be his perfect match, but everything she said confirmed they weren’t suited at all. He let her talk, which she had no trouble doing, but he wasn’t listening. He was relieved when the waiter finally arrived with their meals.
“Right. Well here’s the food.” He rubbed his hands together after nodding his thanks to the waiter.
“Finally.” She blew out a breath as she picked up her silverware. “Maybe next time we can go somewhere that has faster service.”
Nicholas shook his head. Was she for real? After taking a few mouthfuls of his bœuf bourguignon, he asked her how the duck was.
“Um…it’s okay I guess. I don’t know, I just thought it would be more chicken-y.”
“You mean, the duck doesn’t taste like the chicken that cost half the price?” He tilted his head in mock surprise.
“I know, right? I’m thinking that maybe they don’t even use real duck.” She lowered her voice, as if it were a conspiracy.
He ate a few more mouthfuls and then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He couldn’t prolong the agony any longer. “You know, Kailey, I have to be honest. We’re very different, and I don’t think this is working.”
“You noticed it, too? We have really different energies,” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Exactly,” Nicholas said, deciding to simply go with her explanation.
“So, like, what do you think we should do?”
“I think we should go our separate ways. I’ll head home, if you don’t mind, but you’re welcome to stay if you like. Or I can organize a lift for you.”
“Right. So you’re dumping me?” She raised a finely plucked brow.
Nicholas bit his lip. He hadn’t meant it to come out that way. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. It was only a first date, after all, but I don’t think we should do it again.” He gave an apologetic smile.
“Okay then, sure. I’ll finish this fake duck and you can run off,” she replied offhandedly, swirling her wine glass.
He had no idea if he ought to interpret her response as offense or relief, but after offering another apology and bidding a polite goodbye, he asked the waiter to charge his card and to package up his meal while he waited outside. It was an awkward exit, but he didn’t want to waste the food.
Finally pulling out of the car park, Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief as he headed his car towards his home. The date had been a disaster. He’d been out with shallow girls before, but Kailey certainly took the cake for being the worst. He had no idea why Alden thought they had anything in common.
Fifteen minutes from his home, he passed by the church he’d been attending. He’d gone to the mid-week service a few nights before, but was surprised to see the car park almost full on a Saturday evening. He wasn’t aware anything was on.
With nothing to lose, he turned into the car park and found a spot. He glanced at his dinner which the waiter had placed in an insulated bag and hoped it would keep until later. Either way, he was interested in what might be going on inside.
Not wanting to be recognised as ‘that rich guy’, he slipped a pair of glasses on and removed his tie. He had no idea if his attempts to disguise his identity worked or not, but so far it seemed he’d flown under the radar, although he normally slipped in the back and sat by himself, and then slipped out again before the service ended. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn’t.
A table had been set up in the foyer and was hosted by two young women he hadn’t seen before. He wouldn’t be able to slip in unseen tonight.
“Hi!” one of the girls greeted enthusiastically. “Do you have a ticket or do you want to buy one?”
Nicholas scratched his head. “Well, first I’m curious about what’s going on. I wasn’t aware there were any events on Saturdays.”
“Oh, it’s great! Tonight we have two of our missionaries from Thailand speaking. They’re hosting a benefit dinner for their organisation, ‘Regenerate the Nations’,” the girl explained.
“That sounds interesting. What kind of organisation is it?”
“They rescue and rehabilitate victims of sex trafficking. I
t’s an amazing centre. I went earlier this year on a mission trip, and it was awesome. The dinner started about ten minutes ago, but I think you’ve made it in time for the presentation.”
“Perfect. I’ll take a ticket, thanks.” Nicholas felt a sudden urge to do something out of the ordinary. He could eat his fancy French dinner tomorrow. Tonight, he’d have a dinner that fed his soul.
After buying a ticket, he walked hesitantly into the fellowship hall. It was filled with tables. Most were taken, but he found one towards the back with a spare seat. After confirming it wasn’t reserved, he sat on the plastic chair and pulled up to the table. It wasn’t long before the waiter, a volunteer he recognised from the worship team, brought him a plate of Pad Thai that smelled wonderful.
The couple beside him introduced themselves as Bill and Norma. After introducing himself as Nick, he engaged in polite conversation with them. They told him that while they were too old to travel, they’d been blessed financially and supported the organisation because they believed in what they were doing. Nicholas nodded respectfully.
After only a few moments of interaction, the speaker, a shortish man Nicholas guessed might be in his mid-thirties, moved to the stage and adjusted the microphone. A slide on the screen behind him displayed an image of Bangkok at night—a vibrant city, filled with colour and light.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for coming. My name is Thomas Edwards. Many of you know me, but for those who don’t, I and my lovely wife, Judy,” pausing, he gestured to a woman seated near the front who raised her hand, “are missionaries in Bangkok, Thailand.
“We moved there eight years ago after spending three years in training. In those three years, we visited Thailand several times and worked in a number of mission organisations. By the time we moved there, we were certain that the Lord had called us to work in serving the young women who’d been trafficked through numerous brothels in the city of Bangkok.
“With the help of this church and the rest of our partners, we were able to set up this facility you can see on the screen.” He clicked to the next slide. “This shot was taken on the day we purchased it. As you can see, it was quite run down, but now, after a lot of TLC, it looks like this.” He clicked again and soft gasps moved around the room. The difference was truly amazing. They’d done a great job improving the run-down building and now it looked attractive with fresh paint, a small garden at the front filled with colourful flowers, and a sign hanging over the doorway that Nicholas couldn’t read, but assumed said ‘welcome’. It looked like a place young girls might feel safe coming to.
Billionaires with Heart Boxset: Christian Romance Series Page 2
