by Cheryl Wyatt
“She’s full of grace now. Put it this way: God got her heart but not her mouth yet.”
Colin smiled. “I can imagine. I’d like to see her again. She helped me even though I didn’t deserve it. Even with her temper and sharp tongue, she had a love for all kids.”
“She’s the reason I went to chef school after design school to diversify my business. She always said I could. I eventually believed her over all the negative voices, including mine, telling me I couldn’t.”
Meadow’s transparent admission surprised Colin. Stopped at a red light now, he studied her lovely profile as she faced forward. His gaze dropped to that rogue lapel. It sat even more askew than before. He and his OCD couldn’t stand it another second.
He reached over and smoothed it down, hoping to bypass notice.
Her atomic glare told him she noticed.
He pointed. “Your collar was crooked.”
Her nuclear expression didn’t change. Which meant the subject needed to.
His mind raced for something neutralizing to say. He’d overstepped.
To be honest, he’d hoped to impart through his hands the message that he admired her dignity and resilience. No doubt she felt the blossoming care and unexpected wonder surge through the innocent contact, same as him. He guessed that, like him, she didn’t know what to do with it.
The last few days of being around one another when she’d insisted on tromping up the ladder to help him with her roof had been filled with much of the same. Chemistry and their dancing around it. Trying to pretend it didn’t exist was hardly working for Colin.
A blaring series of honks told him the light had turned green. Probably awhile ago. Thankfully the cacophony of horns broke the awkward moment.
Paying better attention to traffic, Colin navigated through the intersection. “Even though I gave Miss D trouble, I admired her. She was one of those teachers who tirelessly reached into the lives of troubled kids.”
Meadow grew quiet. “I should know.”
“As should I. My life wasn’t perfect either, Meadow. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
As Colin spoke the words, he added to his Meadow Agenda: Get her to open up by being transparent myself.
What about him didn’t she know?
Bitter defiance was easier to contend with than this cozy camaraderie metastasizing in the truck with each mile, but his ready presence and help this week had gotten to her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I made poor choices to protect the facade that my home life was perfect. I was afraid if people saw my agony over my parents’ inattention, I’d be made fun of. I know you were, and I’m sorry about that. I guess I thought if I befriended or defended you, I’d be made fun of too. That rationale was wrong.”
“You were young, Colin.”
“Age is no excuse for cowardice. You went through so much. I wish I’d befriended instead of bullied you.”
She shrugged, tempted to fake a blow-off. But Colin’s confession wouldn’t let her. “The stigma surrounding my family was hard. It made us who we are today, though. For all of us to have risen—even financially—above abuse, poverty, and losing our parents to their bad choices is a miracle.”
“Rough road to success, though. I’m glad your siblings are all okay.”
“God-loving grandparents taking us in made the difference. Plus, teachers like Del, Sunday school and church youth workers, and coaches who invested time in us.”
“I always wanted siblings. One of these days, I’m gonna have a huge family.”
She genuinely hoped that dream came through for him. Yet in that cushion of well-wishing plunged a pinprick of doubt. Colin hadn’t been in town long. Would he revert to old patterns when he reconnected with old friends?
Construction zone looming, he decelerated and settled into silence.
God may have sabotaged her kitchen to set her on a non-negotiable path to forgiving Colin, but that didn’t mean she should trust the man.
She looked up to realize that, as he’d shared earlier, they’d passed her old street. She’d memorized his profile by now but suddenly saw him anew. “You did that on purpose.”
He bit his lip. “What?”
“Distracted me.”
His grin escaped. “Maybe.”
After a tiny mile of enjoyment seeing him squirm, she whispered, “Thank you.”
His gentle nod and tender smile touched her heart despite her not wanting them to.
Once at the hospital, he offered to wait in the visitors’ lounge. His contrite countenance made her regret overreacting to his innocent correction of her minor wardrobe malfunction in the truck. Yet it had also seemed a gesture of affection. Meadow didn’t want to under- or overreact, but his past mistakes still screamed louder in her mind than his present acts of kindness.
Her conscience won this round.
“Colin, come visit Del. She’d be glad to see you. I doubt she’s had many visitors. She’s too stubborn to let people know she’s in the hospital ‘incarcerated by tyrants bearing sharp objects,’ as she put it. She won’t want us to ask how she’s doing, either. If she’s in pain or drowsy from meds, she’ll probably just hide it.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like Miss D.” He pressed the elevator button. “If you’re sure seeing me won’t upset her.”
“No, but seeing the two of us together and not one broken bone between us may send her into seizures.”
He chuckled again, and the sound should not have been as pleasing to her as it proved.
“Or it may make her believe in miracles.” Colin pocketed his hands.
“She already does.” That Del had lived through the last decade was a miracle. Meadow didn’t want to reveal Del’s history of domestic abuse yet wanted to prepare Colin for her appearance.
Before reaching Del’s room, Meadow halted him. “Hey, listen. She has facial scars she’s self-conscious about.”
“I won’t mention it,” he said with understanding. “Del’s story is hers to tell.”
And Meadow’s to keep.
They’d become catering partners after forming a friendship at church. Del’s ex had pressured her to quit teaching, and Meadow provided shelter after Del’s escape. Then, Del insisted, Meadow had boosted her confidence by giving her a second career in catering. Only fifty, Del could recertify as a teacher, but she’d assured Meadow that creative catering was where she wanted to be.
Meadow may’ve been instrumental in Del thriving after divorcing her ex, but Del was instrumental in steering Meadow to hire troubled teens to assist with catering. She grinned, missing Del’s daily on-the-job antics.
At Del’s room now, Meadow knocked on the partially open door. “I’m here with a special visitor. You up for company?”
At Del’s permission, they entered. Meadow knew Del trusted her discretion in whom to bring.
Del smacked hands to her cheeks. “My word! I think they shoved hallucinogens in my IV. I’m having a terrible time believing my eyes here, kids. The two of you didn’t exactly get along in high school. You back in town for good, Colin? Furthermore, how’d you manage to sweet-talk this former rival into becoming friends?”
Meadow wanted to correct Del’s notion that she and Colin were friends, even though she couldn’t deny he seemed befriend-able now. Still, she’d be stupid to trust so soon.
He hadn’t been as caustic as his friends and girlfriend in school, but he’d tormented her plenty. The lake exploit had been hurtful, but the birthday party prank had—pun intended—taken the cake. That incident had mortared the final brick in Meadow’s wall. Remembering it made her blood pressure seem to rise.
So did the feeling that her self-fashioned fortress suddenly felt more like a prison.
She quieted her qualms for Del’s sake.
Colin leaned to hug Del. “I bought the property across the street from Meadow’s.”
“On purpose?” Del wiggled her eyebrows.
Colin stiffened. “I moved bac
k after a broken engagement.”
Meadow caught the sharp look that said he wasn’t in the market for matchmaking. Fine. Neither was she.
She’d believe herself, too, if his obvious slight wasn’t stinging. Pride. Had to be. Because she couldn’t possibly be interested in Colin McGrath.
To Del’s credit, she looked contrite instead of compelled to borrow Cupid’s arrows where Meadow’s love life was concerned. “Sorry to hear that.”
He shifted foot to foot. “The engagement never should’ve happened.”
Del’s hand brushed her scars. “I know the feeling. What happened?”
“My ex was a fellow service member who got PTSD. I mistook sympathy for love. She figured it out and broke things off.” He paused. “But I actually moved back here to help Mom with Dad’s construction business.”
Her respect for him ramped. Until he added, “Meadow and I are just working out a business barter. I’m sure you already know about her cave-in.”
That was all their . . . arrangement meant to him? Disappointment stung until the rest of what he said came back to mind. “Is your dad okay, Colin?”
“Not really. But sometimes when things look like they’re falling apart, they’re actually falling into place. That’s my hope, anyway. I’m glad to be back.”
Meadow tried to tamp compassion but couldn’t as she recalled his reveal in the truck that his upbringing wasn’t as perfect as portrayed.
Del eyed her curiously. They’d become close. She could read Meadow like a one-ingredient recipe. Del wouldn’t question her in front of Colin, but that didn’t keep the shrewd inquiry out of her eyes. Meadow had questions of her own. When had her heart thawed to the idea of hoping for a coveted spot on Colin’s friends list?
When Colin stepped out to visit the restroom, Del smirked, and Meadow hissed, “This isn’t funny, Del.”
“I disagree. This is the funniest thing in a century. Your life has turned into a soap opera starring Murphy’s Law.”
“That’s not funny either. Be nice to him.”
“Say that to yourself.” Del whistled. “He’s a looker. Single, too, like you.”
“Don’t tread there, Del. We have a history that can’t be—”
“What? Forgiven? Forgotten? Renovated?”
Meadow clamped her mouth shut. After all, she’d been the one to drag Del to church. Now here Del was, having to preach to the choir. Meadow needed to be more mindful of how she represented Jesus. Besides, was Del right? Was she unforgiving?
“Wanna know what I think?”
“Since when do you ask? You say it whether I wanna know or not.”
Del’s finger shot up. “True. Here’s the deal, kid.”
Del’s eyes took on a sparkle that clanged warning bells up Meadow’s spine.
“I get feelings about these things. And let me tell you, when you two walked in together, I got God-sanctioned goose bumps.”
“Because it’s forty degrees in this room, Del.”
“Nope. It’s in my knower.”
Meadow sighed. Knew she should listen, but part of her was scared to hear it.
“I really sense that once you get past the hurt of what happened, God has specialness in store for you with Colin. Something more permanent than a business barter.”
That ear bomb was not what she’d expected Del to drop.
Didn’t Del see Colin’s negative reaction to her Cupid conspiracy before?
“You’ve been relentlessly badgering me to trust my instincts, Meadow.”
She grinned. “Badgering? Isn’t that your territory?”
Del chuckled. “Guilty. Through your relentless encouragement, you finally convinced me, despite my staying in an abuse system so long, that I have the gift of discernment and need to not only use it but pay attention and trust it. So . . . can you?”
The warning bells moved to Meadow’s brain. “What do you mean?”
“Despite only interacting with Colin again for a few minutes, my discernment tells me he’s way different. I’m not sure you’ve noticed.”
Unfortunately, she was starting to. Although it’d be easier not to.
“I’m just saying give the man a chance.”
“Chance for what?”
“Shh. There he is.”
Upon Colin’s return, Meadow forced herself to look anew. Striking, how tall and filled out he’d become. He’d always been well muscled and athletic from sports. But his well-constructed demeanor was what captured her attention most.
Del was exactly right. Something about him seemed very different from before. It was dynamic and deserving of her notice. It seemed time and trial had forged his character into first-rate greatness.
Question was, could Meadow see past the boy he used to be?
Honestly, she couldn’t.
Couldn’t risk heartache that hoping for a friendship with him could bring.
She just needed to bide time, get through the month, and avoid him as much as possible until she could be out from under the will-softening power of his presence.
He was busy. So was she.
Avoiding him should be as easy as baking boxed pie, right?
“You what?” Meadow stared Flora down Tuesday after catering an Italian wedding, an unusual event for midday on a Monday. Actually, what she’d catered was a disaster. She’d barely kept up without Del, who was still unwell, in the hospital, and deciding with her doctors what to do about the gallstones they’d found. Del had some preexisting health problems that made surgery a risk to consider.
Normally Meadow had the luxury of her dependable waitstaff, teens with troubled backgrounds who helped serve and clear meals and dishes, but they were at school during the event. Plus, they usually only helped on-site. Del was her prep and cooking help.
There’d been so many glitches, Meadow was sure the couple wouldn’t recommend her despite a discount. Now her account looked grumpier than ever. Red was not becoming to a bank statement. She’d forgotten key items Del usually handled. She’d improvised so much due to her Italian-centric catering supplies being destroyed in the cave-in that nothing about the gig went smoothly. It had shown.
Now, after her worst cater ever, her sister dropped this bomb.
“You heard me right. Del and I decided I should hire Colin to build my wedding props.”
“What possessed you, Flora?”
“Del. She’s been hospitalized so long she’s concerned she won’t have time or feel like making my props when she gets out.”
“Pete probably could’ve built them, so why Colin? I smell a joint Cupid conspiracy here.” Meadow stirred the meat loaf gravy simmering in a stockpot. Her next wedding bride had selected meals Meadow could precook to freeze and reheat to taste just as fresh.
That saved her time to help Colin with her roof, even though he protested every time she invaded his workspace. She felt guilty otherwise. It still seemed like he had the worst end of their bargain.
Likewise, was guilt the only reason Colin was befriending her—only guilt about the past? After all, his high school history and failed relationship were proof he was prone to being led by malformed motives. The last thing Meadow wanted to be was Colin’s next pity case.
She checked pizza dough rising in the window and sprinkled flour on wax paper, where she’d roll out and carve dough into heart shapes. The Valentine bride had requested veggie pizza for her rehearsal dinner. Meat loaf would be served at the wedding feast.
Her sister was too quiet. Meadow eyed her.
Flora fiddled rabidly with Meadow’s heart-shaped banquet dish.
“What?” Meadow grabbed a cloth to polish her large silver chafing pan.
“I suppose I should also warn you Del invited him to church. Colin asked if you go there too.” Flora’s grin widened.
Meadow set the chafer aside and went for the tongs. “I could pinch your nose off with these. Del’s too. I understand if he needs a home church, but hiring him? Really? Are you two desperate to torture me?”
Flora fingered gold trim on Meadow’s plate rack. “You’re overreacting.”
Meadow felt like pulling her hair out. Flora’s too.
Didn’t she understand Meadow was trying to avoid Colin? Scowling, she pulled heart-shaped cookies from the oven and distributed them on cooling racks. Then she spooned meat loaf balls into deep, heart-shaped muffin pans.
Flora folded the regal fuchsia banquet table drape Meadow handcrafted for the buffet. “Wanna know Colin’s reaction when I told him you go to the same church?”
“I do not.” She stuck the pan in the oven, washed her hands, and then counted china place settings, annoyed that she was speculating about his reaction and why he asked about her. She needn’t ponder it. Pondering put her nowhere but vulnerable to pain. She threw ingredients in a blender for Valentine fruit smoothies. A grinding sound rent the air until a dreadful thought hit.
Meadow shut off the blender.
“Where exactly is he building these props?”
“Here in his shop, of course.” Flora’s smirk sent Meadow over the edge.
“You’ve gone mad.”
“Ladies?”
Meadow gasped. “Will you stop sneaking up on me, McGrath?”
Colin sauntered over with tools. “I knocked. Four times. Promise.”
Flora crunched a carrot from the veggies Meadow planned to carve into romantic food bouquets. “Meadow couldn’t hear you over the shrieking tantrum of protest going on inside her head.”
Colin looked from sister to sister. Meadow shot Flora a look meant to silence her for the next century.
Carrot eaten, Flora grabbed an apple. “What’re these for?”
“Empanadas for the Tex-Mex rehearsal dinner.” One she’d only been able to cater thanks to Colin’s kindness in opening his pole barn to her. Now she’d have to share space with him. There’d be no getting around it. Every attempt to avoid him resulted in seeing him more. At least when helping him on her roof she could avoid conversation, because who could talk over construction ruckus?
The kitchen was away from the woodwork area for health reasons, so she wouldn’t have to work directly by Colin. Except when she made banquet cloths. Flora had set up Meadow’s sewing center near his table saw. Now Meadow knew why. She suddenly needed to be alone.
