The sweet comment winged its way to the center of Meghan’s heart and lingered. She swallowed and managed to rasp, “Thank you, Sheila. That means a lot.”
Sheila sat up and smiled through tears. “Thanks for being so nice to me even when I’m a pain.”
Meghan laughed and pulled Sheila into a hug. “That’s what moms are for. But you know…” She released her and grinned. “So are big sisters. Since I’m not really old enough to be your mom, is it okay if I be your big sister instead?”
Sheila’s tears disappeared behind her bright smile. “I’d really like that.”
“Good.” Meghan stood and pulled Sheila up with her. “Let’s get home then, Sis.”
Carson Springs, Arkansas
Sean
Sean stood with the refrigerator door open, frowning at the contents. A bag of browning chopped lettuce, a shriveled slice of days-old pizza, and a half container of sweet-and-sour chicken were the most appealing options available.
“Blech.”
Cool air flowed over him, raising gooseflesh on his bare legs and torso. He closed the door and ran his hand through his damp hair. After housecleaning and yard work, he’d needed a shower. He’d intended to spend the evening vegging out in front of the television in his boxer shorts, but maybe he should get dressed and go to the grocery store. Good thing Meghan wasn’t there. He’d have nothing to feed her.
He sighed. He was too pooped to shop. He’d pop a bag or two of microwave popcorn for his supper, watch a little television, and head to bed early. Tomorrow after church he’d do some shopping. The decision made, he crossed on bare feet to the cabinet above the built-in microwave and pulled out the popcorn. As he removed a plastic-wrapped bag, the front door opened.
His heart fired into his throat. Hadn’t he locked it before he got in the shower? He dropped the items on the floor and lurched for his work pistol, which lay on the cabinet next to the back door.
“Sean, I’m home!”
“Meghan?” He changed course so fast his feet slid on the tile floor and he nearly went down. He regained his balance and scrambled for the front door. Meghan met him in the wide doorway between the kitchen and living room and lunged into his arms, laughing. He rocked her, his face buried in her hair. “You scared me out of a year’s growth. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“And miss surprising you?” She pulled back and grinned at him. “Besides, at our ages, the only direction we grow is out, and I’m happy with the shape you’ve got now.” She teasingly patted his belly, then melted against him again. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her to the sofa. He sat and tugged her down half on top of him. “But why are you here? Is the case done?”
While toying with the curling hairs on his chest, she explained the latest developments in their investigation. She nestled her head in the curve of his neck. “Since Monday’s Memorial Day and we can’t really do anything more until Tuesday, we decided to come back.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “I’m glad, too. I really needed to see you.”
A hint of desperation colored her tone. He shifted so he could look into her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, crinkling her nose. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. For now, I’m hungry.”
“Well, I can tell you, there’s nothing in the fridge worth eating.” He slipped free and stood. “If you want something more substantial than popcorn, I better get dressed.” He turned toward the hallway.
She caught his hand. “Sean, I’m hungry, but not for food.” Her grin turned impish. “And you’re dressed just fine.”
Laughing, he captured her in a hug. “Ah, Meghan, I love you.”
She gently tugged a chest hair. “Show me.”
He led her up the hallway.
* * *
After church on Sunday, Sean took Meghan to their favorite Italian restaurant for lunch, and then they visited the grocery store. He pushed the cart while she loaded it with lunch meats and cheeses, frozen vegetables, pasta, ground beef, boneless chicken breasts, cod filets, and a variety of boxed and canned goods. As she added a bag of rice to the cart, he shook his head.
“Babe, what are you doing? We’ve got enough food in here to last three months.”
“No, we don’t.” She pulled the cart a few feet up the aisle to the selection of dried beans. She dropped a bag of mixed beans on top of the other items, then picked up a bag of black beans and tossed it back and forth between her hands. “Mom used to boil beans in the evening and leave them soaking on the back of the stove in the water all night to soften them. But there’s gotta be an easier way to cook these things. Maybe a pressure cooker? Or a slow cooker?”
He rounded the cart and took the bag from her. “Meg, seriously, we aren’t home for lunch, and a lot of the time we’re home late for supper. Just cooking on the weekends, we won’t use this stuff up before some of it goes bad. We’re wasting money.” He reached to return the beans to the shelf.
She plucked the bag out of his hand and added it to the cart. “If I’m going to cook more often, I’ve got to have things stocked and ready to go.”
He caught her hand and looked in her eyes, searching for hints of what she was thinking. “Are you going to cook more often?”
“I think so.” For a moment, uncertainty flickered in her brown irises. She slipped her hand free. “I want to. Is…is that okay?”
“It’s perfectly okay. I like home-cooked meals.”
“Good.” She frowned into the cart. “I need onions. And potatoes. Not frozen, fresh ones.” She offered him a quizzical look. “How about a bag of little white new ones—those are so good steamed—and some whole sweet potatoes for baking? Of course, we’ll want brown sugar and cinnamon to put on top of the sweet potatoes.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re pretty bland otherwise.”
As much as he appreciated the domestic turn she seemed to be taking, curiosity got the best of him. He gripped the cart handle and held it in place. “Meghan, what’s going on? Why’re you suddenly morphing into Betty Crocker?”
She turned her head and gave him a view of her sweet profile for a few seconds, then faced him again. “It’s time, don’t you think? You’ve put up with fast food and boxed meals and frozen dinners for three years. Don’t you want me to…well, morph?”
“Not if you’re doing it out of some sense of guilt, like you’re not living up to your obligations.” He stepped around the cart and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I love you. Whether you cook every night or not doesn’t change that.”
“I know.”
“So all this…” He gestured to the full cart. “Do you still want to take it home?”
“I do.”
She commandeered the handle and pushed the cart around the corner and up another aisle. He followed her, still confused but unwilling to start a serious conversation in the Carson Springs grocery store. He glanced around. They weren’t anywhere near the vegetables department.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
“No, I’m not. I forgot something.” She turned one more corner. They’d returned to the meat counter. “I want a couple of steaks for you to grill for us tomorrow. Would you rather have a T-bone or New York strip?”
“A T-bone.” He leaned on the edge of the counter while she examined the steaks sealed behind plastic wrap. They bought steaks only for special celebrations or the rare occasions they had guests for dinner. “Is someone coming over tomorrow?”
“No.” She held up one steak. “This one’s yours. I think I want a rib eye.” She inched the cart forward, scanning the displays.
Sean trailed her, his confusion mounting by the minute. “Okay, no guests. So then what are we celebrating?”
Picking through the sparse selection of individually wrapped rib ey
es, she barely glanced at him. “Memorial Day.”
“We’ve never celebrated Memorial Day before. How come we’re doing it this year?”
“Because I want to.”
What in the world had happened to her while she was in Fort Smith? On one hand, she was still his loving, spunky, sweetly ornery wife, but on the other hand, a stranger seemed to have replaced her. He positioned himself into her line of vision. “Meg, what’s going on?”
She bit her lower lip and blinked several times, her gaze aimed at the meat. Then she looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Not here, Sean, okay? We’ll talk. I promise we’ll talk. But not here. Maybe not even today. I gotta get my thoughts sorted out first.” She begged him with her expression. “Okay?”
Even though he wanted answers now, he nodded. “Okay.”
Las Vegas, Nevada
Kevin
Why couldn’t he sleep? Sure, noise from the Strip filtered through the walls and windows, the same as it’d done every night of his time in Vegas. Footsteps, voices, occasional laughter intruded from the other side of his door. But this restlessness under his skin wasn’t caused by outside noise. No, a yearning—like an itch he couldn’t scratch—kept him awake and uneasy.
“Life ‘to the full’ is what He wants for us, and He knows we cannot have it unless we have Him.”
Hazel’s comment repeated itself again and again in his mind, refusing to be stilled. The Las Vegas buzz of activity didn’t drown it out. The television’s drone didn’t cover it. His own determination to focus on something else hadn’t sent it to the recesses of his mind. What was it about the words that held him captive?
“Life ‘to the full’…” People would say he already had it, given his wealth and status. Think of all he’d attained. Sure, his marriages had flopped, but that wasn’t all his fault. Marriage was a fifty-fifty partnership, so his wives had to hold part of the blame. Yes, he’d made some mistakes along the way—who hadn’t? But think of what he had. Think of what he was adding to his list of accomplishments. He had it all.
So why did he feel so empty?
He clicked the television remote, removing one source of noise. He plodded to the bathroom and dug out a pair of earplugs from his shaving bag. Situating them in his ears shut out the sounds of the city. But the voice in his head continued.
“Life ‘to the full’…”
That’s what he’d always been after.
“He knows we cannot have it unless we have Him.”
Kevin stared at his reflection in the mirror. At his haggard face, his lifeless eyes, his empty soul. “You want it, don’t you?” The question rasped from his tight throat, and he nodded, observing the action in the mirror.
He sank onto the edge of the tub and buried his face in his hands. “I want completeness. I want a foundation. I want…” He’d never been one to talk to himself. Was he losing his mind? Or was he finally reaching for something he’d needed his whole life long? A groan emerged, and it took a moment before he realized he’d been the one to emit it.
He’d never get any rest until he satisfied this deep longing in his soul. Answers waited. And he knew where to find them. With a jerk, he bounded to his feet. He half stumbled, half ran to the dresser and yanked out the drawer containing the books he’d seen when he checked in. The Bible slid to the front. He lifted it out and flopped across the bed. But his fingers froze. Where should he begin? He huffed. Why not at the beginning?
He peeled back the cover, and the opening line on a piece of paper glued inside the front flap caught his attention. Do you want to be saved? An outline of step-by-step directions followed. And Kevin followed the directions.
Thirty
Kendrickson, Nevada
Diane
Diane turned off the ignition and sighed. She turned to Mother, who sat quiet and somber in the passenger seat. “I wonder why he didn’t come.”
Mother sighed. “I don’t know, but I’m as disappointed as you are.”
Diane doubted Mother’s disappointment matched hers. She never thought she would formulate a friendship, shaky as it was, with the man who’d abandoned her thirty-two years ago when she needed him most. But after the intense conversation they’d shared yesterday—the way he opened up and exposed a piece of his soul to them—she expected him to accept the invitation they’d given to join them for church and lunch afterward. But she and Mother had sat alone during the service, and they’d eaten alone at Mother’s favorite buffet. No sign of Kevin.
He’d abandoned her again.
“Maybe…sometimes…it is too late.”
“What?”
Diane hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. She shook her head and pulled her keys free. “Never mind. We’d better get in and let the dogs out. They’ve been locked up for almost three hours. Duchess especially will need out.”
They entered the house through the garage to a chorus of yips and yelps. Diane ushered the trio of dachshunds out the back door into the small enclosed backyard, then went to her room to change. She dropped her purse on the bed, and her cell phone bounced out. The little red light that signaled a missed call winked at her. Had Meghan finally called back?
She picked up the phone and pressed the Home button. The screen lit, and she pulled up the list of missed calls. At the top of the list wasn’t Meghan’s name and number but Kevin’s. He’d called, but he hadn’t left a voice mail. She chewed the inside of her cheek. Should she call him and ask what he’d needed? Or should she let it go and wait to see if he’d call again?
Mother wandered around the corner. “Margaret Diane, I just turned on my phone. I have a missed call from—”
Diane held up her phone.
“You, too?”
“Yes. Did he leave you a message?”
Mother checked her phone. “No, he didn’t.” She pressed the phone against her bodice, worry etched into her features. “Do you think something’s wrong?”
If something was wrong, he wouldn’t call them. He’d call his lawyer. “He was probably trying to let us know something came up and he wouldn’t be at church, that’s all.” She turned on her phone’s ringer and returned it to her purse. “If it’s important enough, he’ll call back.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Mother ambled out of the room.
Diane scowled at her purse, envisioning her phone inside. “I hope I’m right.”
Dallas, Texas
Kevin
Kevin checked his cell phone one last time. Still no call from either Diane or her mother. He grimaced and set the phone to Airplane Mode. He dropped it into his pocket, rested his head against the first-class seat’s cushioned headrest, and released a long, slow breath. He shouldn’t be surprised neither had called him. He hadn’t left messages. For all they knew, he’d pocket dialed them by mistake.
“Sir, would you like a beverage? We have beer, wine, soft drinks, and a variety of mixed drinks.” The pretty brunette in a stewardess dress held a notepad and pencil and smiled at him.
Strange how he had no desire to flirt with her. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
“All right. You let me know if you change your mind.” She turned to the pair of men across the aisle.
Kevin closed his eyes and blocked the sight of passengers shuffling past with carry-ons. His phone seemed heavy in his shirt pocket. Should he call again? He quickly discounted the idea. No way he’d talk on the airplane. Not with so many other people around to overhear. He’d have to wait until he was back in Fort Smith.
He should’ve left a message the first time, but he’d lost his nerve. Especially with Diane. What voice-mail program had enough minutes available to make amends for what he’d done to her way back when? As for Hazel, it’d seemed too impersonal to put a heartfelt thank-you in a cell phone’s voice mail. Since he wouldn’t be able to see her face when he told her that after a n
ight of wrestling with himself he’d decided to build his foundation from this day forward on Jesus Christ, he at least wanted to hear the joy in her voice.
He didn’t make too many people joyful these days, and he wanted to carry the memory of having done so for her. Because he knew she’d be joyful. Maybe even overjoyful, if there was such a word. She was the kind of person who celebrated good things happening for others.
If he didn’t get a chance to talk to either of them before Tuesday, they’d know he had left town when they went to the loft apartment and Jim Connolly—go figure, he had been able to reach the plumber—told them he’d flown back to Fort Smith. Last-minute flights weren’t cheap, but the expense was minimal compared to the cost of bailing Kip out of trouble. As soon as he got home, he’d pay a visit to Julie and Kip.
He tried to imagine his son’s reaction when he apologized for giving him soggy potato chips instead of crisp ones and asked for a chance to start over. Kip might laugh in his face, might tell him to get lost, might spew a whole lot of ugliness. But Kevin had made up his mind to listen patiently, not to give up, to build the foundation he should’ve built twenty years ago.
In the hotel room Bible, he’d come across a verse spoken by Jesus to His followers. Something like, “Lo, I am with you always.” The King James Version sounded a lot like Shakespeare. When he got home, he’d buy his own Bible. Probably King James. He intended to show Kip the verse and tell him that from now on, he could count on two people being there for him—Jesus and his dad. Always.
Kip wasn’t the only one he needed to build a relationship with. It’d be hard—harder maybe than anything he’d ever done—but he wanted to contact Meghan. He wouldn’t ask to be her father. He didn’t deserve the title after what he’d done. But maybe she’d let him be her friend. That would be enough.
Unveiling the Past Page 24
