by Lyn Cote
“Have you made your decision?”
“I don’t—”
“Please.” She halted him by grasping his forearm. Her stomach did a somersault at her own forwardness, but she continued, “I’m not asking you to marry me. I just want you to go on a cruise to see if we can manage to raise funds for a free clinic I know you want. Why are you hesitating? Is it me?”
Chapter Nine
The balmy night closed softly around them as it had on his patio. Spring’s heart lodged in her throat while she awaited his reply. Pressing him about the cruise… Had she pushed him too hard? Would he withdraw completely, destroying her new, tenuous link to his life? Spending the day with his family, then the evening on his patio, had drawn her rampant emotions so much closer to the surface. She’d suppressed her feelings for this proud man for so long. She was playing with fire. She could win him or lose any chance with him at all. In spite of the warm breeze, she shivered with uncertainty.
“My hesitance has nothing to do with you.”
His tone begrudged her every syllable.
Praying that her voice wouldn’t shake, she went on. “I’m just trying to help. A free clinic would do so much for the downtown, help so many people.”
He bowed his head as though praying or searching for words. A dove in the live oak near the entrance cooed, unseen.
She waited, silently beseeching heaven. God, please let him break out of his reserve. Help him see what needs to be done. Let me encourage him, not just because I want to work beside him, not just because I love him, but because together we might do Your work. You are the Great Healer. Please….
“I think your offer of help is sincere and I do accept that I need backers if this project is going to get off the ground, but…” Again he measured out each word as if it were fine gold dust.
She went on praying. One car then another drove past, looking for parking places. A blaring siren shook the quiet as an ambulance careened up to the emergency doors.
Glancing toward the hospital, he sucked in breath. “I have never gone in for social occasions. You know that—”
“I didn’t, either, until Aunt Geneva insisted I pledge a sorority.” Did he still see her as so different from him? She wished she could take his broad shoulders into her hands and shake him out of all his preconceptions. The thought of holding Marco worked its way through her like the warm Gulf breeze that fluttered the short tendrils around her face. She pushed them back.
“Your aunt insisted? You mean, you didn’t want to?”
She shook her head. In the face of all the complexity of human beings, he’d neatly labeled everyone and put them in the slots he’d created. Didn’t he see how ridiculous that was? “No, I was petrified during Rush Week. I didn’t want to join something that felt out of character for me, but I didn’t want to disappoint Aunty, either. Anyway, I thought no sorority would want me. I was shocked when the Deltas pledged me.”
He firmed his jaw as he gazed at her.
His classic profile, cast in shadows from the street lamps high above them, filled her with longing. Why couldn’t this be simpler? Why couldn’t she just say, “I think I love you”? Someday I will.
She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. “A few of the girls were stuck on themselves. Every group has some of those. But after attending several of the functions, I realized that some were in the same situation I was. Their mothers or grandmothers had been Deltas, and they had been pushed to pledge, too. As soon as I found that out, I relaxed and started making friends.”
He nodded.
She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but his handsome face resembled a portrait of a bold and determined conquistador, a man accustomed to conquering city after city. She hadn’t chosen the easiest man to fall in love with. Taking a deep breath, she ventured into another sensitive point. “I’ve been thinking that you haven’t attended any alumni activities, have you?”
He shook his head.
She pursed her lips. “You haven’t seen how people change. You shouldn’t think of the other alumni as college students anymore. Just as you have changed, matured, so have the people you don’t think you’ll fit in with. Things that might have mattered then, don’t now. We’re all nearly a decade older than we were in college.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” His reply sounded more natural.
Her inner pressure eased a bit more. “I think you’ll be surprised at what a mellow group some of us have become. I still keep in close touch with four Deltas. I know their husbands, too. Some went to school with us. Some didn’t. They’ll all be on the cruise, and I’m looking forward to relaxing and having fun with them.”
“Won’t you regret having to do fund-raising, then?” He stretched his lean body back against her aunt’s car.
“I have become accustomed to it. And talking with friends and acquaintances will make it easier. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you and I are known quantities. Since we’re all Florida U alumni, we’ll have a common connection with them or their spouses. We just have to get the ball rolling, and our project will be a topic of discussion during the tour.”
Saying her plans out loud reassured her, and she hoped it would do the same for Marco. I’m not a silly coed, Marco! She scolded herself. I can’t help it if you’re the one who makes me feel so unsure.
She continued, “I don’t plan on doing any hard selling, if you know what I mean. We’ll just circulate and, when an opportunity presents itself, you and I will introduce the topic of a free clinic. It will sell itself.”
“Do you think so?” He stared at her.
She blushed warm under his scrutiny. “I wouldn’t mislead you, Marco. And we need to let the alumni committee know you want that cabin they’re holding for you, or it might go to someone else.”
He took a big breath. “All right. If you think the clinic will sell itself, we have to try it.”
Bottling up her joy, she suppressed the desire to fling her arms around his neck. She merely smiled and nodded. “You might even have a good time.”
He grimaced. That would take a miracle, Spring.
When Spring walked in the door, Aunt Geneva and Matilde lay in wait for her. “Tía Rosita called,” Matilde started first. “She said you were in her hospital room when Marco came.”
With a gleam in her eyes, Aunty took up the thread. “She said you two left together.”
Spring gave them a half frown, half smile. How did Tía and Matilde know each other? “You two are like the CIA. You have your contacts everywhere!”
“Tell us!” Matilde urged. “Did you persuade him?”
Spring nodded. “I have to call—”
Matilde began singing “La Cucaracha” and doing what must have been the rumba. Not to be outdone, Aunty joined in.
“You two!” Spring laughed, but she was caught in crosscurrents of elation and anxiety. Would it be as easy as she’d led Marco to believe? Would he really feel more comfortable now than he had in college? Would she be able to help him raise money for the clinic? Would she and Marco have a chance to draw even closer while away from their everyday lives?
The phone rang.
Spring picked up the one in the hall. Her mother’s voice took her by surprise. “H-hello,” Spring stuttered.
“Did I startle you?” Mother asked.
“Yes.” A worry niggled its way into Spring’s mind. “Is everything all right?” She really meant, Are you all right?
“Everything’s fine at this end. I just wanted to ask Aunt Geneva if she was up to another guest.”
“You’ll have to talk to her.” Spring frowned. “Is Doree wanting to come down for spring break?”
“I don’t know about that, but I do know I need a break from snow!”
Spring smiled then. She’d dreaded Doree popping up here, badgering her in person. She’d talk to Aunt Geneva about Connie Wilson again after the cruise. Maybe this time Aunty would give them something to go on. “I know what you mean. Here, I’ll hand the ph
one to Aunty.” She did so, after murmuring to her aunt that it was Mother.
Matilde nodded and rumba-ed away toward her room off the kitchen. With a grin, Spring walked down the long hallway to her own room. She wondered why Mother had decided to come for a visit. Was she feeling well or not? And would this make it harder or easier to get Aunt Geneva to open up about Mother’s natural parents? When Spring thought about her mother’s leukemia, the familiar ache tugged at her heart.
Marco couldn’t believe what he was doing. He held the door open for Spring and followed her into Scott’s Shop for Men. He’d never shopped anywhere but department stores at the mall. Why had he let his mother talk him into asking Spring for help choosing clothes for the cruise?
But he’d come home and found his mother going through his bedroom closet, exclaiming that he had almost nothing but suits. He’d given her a key to his town house just in case she ever needed it, but she’d never used it before!
After scolding him for not furnishing his town house aside from the bedroom, she’d proceeded to tell him that he had to go shopping before he went on the cruise. His resistance had been futile. Then she’d talked him into calling Spring and arranging a shopping “date” for the next day after his office hours. What was going on? He felt as if he’d been sucked under by a relentless undertow.
Still bemused a day later, he trailed after Spring over the luxurious maroon carpet between the neat racks of slacks and shirts. He noticed her slender spine. The subtle sway to her walk made it difficult for him to draw breath. A well-dressed silver-haired salesman greeted them.
Marco didn’t appreciate the man’s appreciative glance at Spring. Behave yourself, abuelo.
Spring informed the salesman, “We’re going on a weekend cruise, and Marco needs swimming trunks, a few tank tops, matching shorts, a few sport shirts and slacks.”
Disgruntled, Marco listened to Spring as though she were talking about someone else.
“What is the gentleman’s size?” the salesman asked.
Spring turned to him.
Marco gave his sizes, and before he knew what was happening he was in the fitting room staring at the full-length mirror. Why am I here? I never try on clothing in a store! He contemplated walking out and telling Spring this, but decided doing so would only make more discussion necessary. And she wouldn’t understand, anyway. Just try them on and get this over with!
Still wearing his white dress shirt from office hours, he pulled on the electric-blue spandex trunks Spring had picked out.
“How do those look?” she asked from her chair outside by the three-way mirror.
“Like swim trunks,” he growled. Ugly ones. I look ridiculous!
She chuckled. “Come out.”
Like a condemned man, he walked out to face her.
“Oh, I like those! Don’t you?”
He shrugged. He could endure them, he supposed—if he didn’t look down.
“If you don’t like them, I could pick out a few more.”
Anything but that! “No. These are just fine.” He failed to keep the revulsion from his voice.
The salesman wandered away to help another customer. Spring stood up. Coming close to him, she murmured, “If you don’t want to shop here, we can go somewhere else.”
The sweet scent of gardenias floated from her, calling to him to take a step closer to her.
She gazed up into his eyes.
Her eyes. So blue. So serene. Filled with such innocent appeal. “Let’s get it over with,” he grumbled. “I just don’t want to buy a bunch of clothes I’ll never wear again.”
“Don’t you ever go swimming? Your town house complex has two pools.”
“I’ve never had time—”
“Let’s not go there.” She waved her hand as if a mosquito had buzzed in her ear. “From now on, once a week in season, you’re going to go swimming.”
He only half followed her words. The way her golden hair curved around her oval face and down her back became his focus. “Why?”
“Because you don’t want these trunks to go to waste.” She giggled at him.
Her giggle released some tightness inside him, melted his resistance to her persuading. What was it about Spring that dissolved the willpower he’d honed over time? She made him forget what he was saying. She took him shopping. She’d talked him into going on a frivolous cruise, of all things!
Spring held her breath. She’d been afraid he was about to bolt. The teasing she’d used to overcome his stiffness had always seemed to work for Doree. She’d seen her sister charm two and three males at a time with her insouciant comments. Would it work for her?
“You’re the limit, you know that?” he said at last. “I hate these trunks. Get me some in navy blue, Miss Shopper.”
Spring’s spirits took flight. It worked! Good old Doree! “Yes, Mr. Shopper,” she replied with a salute.
Before long, they’d agreed on a pair of navy blue (not spandex) trunks, two pairs of chinos—one mocha and one oatmeal, two coordinating knit shirts, two pair of denim shorts and two white tank tops. But shopping for a man as handsome and well-proportioned as Marco hadn’t been difficult. He could make anything look good! Spring sighed with satisfaction.
“Anything else I’ll need?” Marco asked with a half smile and a sardonic twist in his voice.
Remember Doree—keep it light; keep it sassy. “Just don’t forget to pack your killer smile, Doctor.”
Marco just stared at her.
She smiled back at him and hoped she could carry this off. Maybe she should call Doree for advice, inspiration? Two days to castoff!
Spring walked up the slanting gangway to the cruise ship. Her heart beat like the impatient waves lapping, slapping against the ship’s hull. She hated feeling so nervous. Taking a deep breath, she tried to center herself in God’s peace. Her mind recited, “Be anxious for nothing, but give thanks to the Lord in all things.” I am thankful. Lord, please take this frantic feeling from me.
She dared a glance at Marco, who walked beside her. He looked intent and serious, hardly like a man about to leave for a three-day vacation! But I probably look just as tense! Another deep breath in and out.
Nudging him, she whispered, “This isn’t a floating dentist office. Put a smile on that face.”
He gave her a fierce look in return, then visibly relaxed his expression. “How’s this?” he asked in an undertone.
“Much better.” Though her stomach still did the flutter-kick against her ribs, she smiled in return. Appealing to God had already begun loosening her concern. If what she was doing wasn’t in God’s plan for Marco, her and the clinic, she’d find out soon enough. The old hymn “Trust and Obey” played in her mind: “Never fear, only trust and obey.” The tension inside her began dissolving like sugar in water.
“Spring! Spring Kirkland!” a voice hailed her from above.
Shading her eyes, Spring scanned the ship’s deck. At first, she couldn’t make out any faces, then she recognized the person who was waving to her. A smile lifted her face, and happiness poured through her like warm sunbeams. “Mimi! Mimi! I see you! Hi!”
Mimi, a petite redhead, waved again, leaning over the railing. “Spring, I knew you’d be early! Come on! I’ve already got the ball rolling. Is that Marco with you?”
Spring bobbed her head yes and stepped up her pace. “Marco, do you remember Mimi Stacey?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
She dragged at his arm, hurrying him along. “She was my roommate my last two years at Florida. She married Jeff Handelan. Do you remember him?”
Her touch awakened a tingling along the length of his arm. Trying to ignore her effect on him, Marco kept up with her. What had she asked him? He frowned over the name. “He sounds familiar.”
“He was on the football team for two years—”
“Oh.”
The way he said “oh” irritated her. “He’s not the stereotypical jock. He was on the honor roll all through college and has g
one into corporate law. He’s done quite well.”
“Oh.”
Stubborn man. But the joy of seeing Mimi again carried Spring along.
“What did she mean,” Marco asked, “she’s already got the ball rolling?”
“What do you think? Why are you here?” She shook her head at him as she topped the gangplank. A ship’s photographer, dressed in crisp white, motioned them to pause. “I’ve already called everyone who might be helpful, and the clinic is already a topic.”
Marco gawked at her.
The photographer snapped their photo.
Chapter Ten
As Spring and Marco in swimwear walked to the pool area on an upper deck, the hot Gulf sun beat down on her bare shoulders. The cloudless blue sky stretched above and the turquoise Gulf of Mexico rippled all around. White seagulls wheeled and squawked overhead. The ship had cast off early in the afternoon, and she was living her dream—she and Marco together.
Still, she trembled inside.
Marco continued his impersonation of a grumpy bear—a grumpy bear in new navy swim trunks. Why had her calling people and starting the talk about Marco’s proposed free clinic upset him so? Did he intend to counter her every move, or would he cooperate?
She closed her eyes, again tapping into God’s peace and asking for blessing. Let me know Your will, God. If I’m supposed to be with Marco, let it become plain to both of us. If the free clinic is in Your plan, let us find contributors easily. I’m only human. I want what I want. But Your will be done.
She drew in a deep breath. “There are a pair of lounge chairs.” She headed toward the two, side by side by the pool.
Marco trailed after her like a robot, no expression, no comments. He could ruin everything! How could she shake him out of his dour mood?
She eased down onto one wooden lounge chair and Marco claimed the other. He let the back of it down slightly to recline, folded his arms and closed his eyes, as forbidding a pose as she could have imagined. Was he pouting or just oblivious to how to attract people in an engaging manner? Spring wanted to shake him!
