Entangled: Surrendering the Past (Surrendering Time Book 2)

by Julie Arduini

  Noah’s the first to say it. “I love you guys.”

  Will tousles Noah’s hair, still in need of a trim, and then my fiancé leans in to give me a quick kiss. “You have no idea how much I love both of you.”

  Epilogue

  It’s rare in the Adirondacks to have all the car windows down in early April, but Will, Noah, his new friend from school, Alyssa, and I drive to Lake George feeling the sun’s warmth on our arms and faces.

  Alyssa has no trouble making conversation. “How long have you two been married?”

  Will winks at me, most likely remembering our fireworks. “We got married on July Fourth.”

  She scrunches her eyebrows together. “But you only dated since May.”

  I nod. “The second time. We knew after that we were meant to be together forever.”

  Alyssa turns to Noah. “And you helped them both propose to each other.”

  He laughs. “Will kind of hijacked Mom’s proposal. It all worked out.”

  “And now we’re visiting a hair salon?”

  The vehicle GPS chirps a new directive.

  I nod. “Yes. The class I graduated with is opening a salon together later this year. The owner wants me to see how renovations are going.”

  That seems to satisfy the teen. She reaches for one of Noah’s earbuds and places one in her ear, while he keeps the other.

  Will follows the electronic directions until we reach the address Daniel provided. “Here we are.”

  I look at the awning and see the fancy lettering. Sanctuary: Comprehensive Salon.

  Before we reach the French doors, a familiar face opens them for us.

  “Betty?”

  She nods and giggles. “Do you know how hard it was to keep this secret all these weeks when you’d call and ask how I was doing?”

  We walk inside and I give her a hug.

  Daniel’s greeting breaks up our reunion. “You might have beaten me on the boards, but I was able to convince your former landlord to put her house for sale and move here to be my office manager.”

  I squeal and run over to him, accepting another hug. “If Betty’s part of your venture, you definitely win any competition we have going between us. Thanks for inviting us. I can’t wait to see everything.”

  Once I step back, Will stands by my side and shakes Daniel’s hand. “This place looks amazing. Where’s everyone else?”

  Daniel looks upstairs. “Painting. Come on, let me show you around.”

  Will and I sprint up the stairs while Noah and Alyssa hang back with Betty. The fumes guide the way to the room where Mitzi, Sandy, and Claire all are in separate corners painting.

  Daniel knocks on the one dry wall. “Look who’s here.”

  The women look over.

  “Carla!” Mitzi drops her brush and runs over. Sandy and Claire follow her.

  Claire stands next to Daniel. “What do you think of our manicure and pedicure room?”

  This is so much bigger than the modest house Will and I bought with a salon in the back.

  “You guys are amazing. When do you plan on opening for business?”

  They all exchange looks.

  Sandy speaks first. “June.”

  Daniel’s answer nearly intercepts hers. “Before Memorial Day.”

  With that, they walk us through the shampoo station, the stylist chairs, and hair color area. Claire shows off the facial and makeup area while Sandy introduces us to the coffee lounge.

  Will folds his arms. “It looks like you thought of everything.”

  Daniel nods. “I dreamed of all of this. Now, enough about me. How are the newlyweds?”

  I lean against Will. “No complaints.”

  Mitzi steps forward. “Is your salon open?”

  Will massages my arm. “You wouldn’t believe how busy she is. Carla’s attracting clients from all over Hamilton County. I’m so proud of her.”

  Sandy turns on the cappuccino machine. “What’s been your biggest challenge?”

  I don’t even have to think. “A three-year old curly red head received an impromptu haircut when her hair became one with a piece of hard candy. It was a tangled mess I didn’t think I could ever fix.”

  I turn and smile at my husband. “But after a quick prayer, I was able to sort through the curls and pull most of the hair away from the candy.”

  The group laughs as I recall the battle of wits between the mother and daughter. “At first the poor thing denied there was anything wrong, but when I untangled the candy and the hair, she started to cry. She thought she’d have to live with that missing patch of hair forever as proof of her mistake. It was fun to end the session with a hug, letting her know that one choice wouldn’t last forever. I gave her a piece of chocolate and she was on her way.”

  Claire inches closer to Daniel, reaching for his hand. “That is the cutest story.”

  Will bends down and kisses the top of my head. “That little girl reminds me of someone.”

  Finally, I can think about my past and smile. “True. And like her, I plan to move on from my mistakes, eat chocolate, and be on my way.” I face my husband and wink. “Doing it all with you by my side.

  If you loved Entangled…

  It would mean a lot if you would leave a positive review on at least Amazon and Goodreads. It takes a couple minutes of your time and makes a world of difference. If you aren’t sure what to write when leaving a review, include a couple standout moments you enjoyed without giving the plot away, and don’t mention knowing the author. If a reader sees that a reviewer wrote that the author is a friend or something similar, the reader thinks the review isn’t accurate.

  Thank you!

  I appreciate you reading ENTANGLED. If you’re struggling with choices you’ve made in the past, I encourage you to go to Christ and ask for His forgiveness. He will grant it. That’s all you need. Don’t allow guilt or fear to rule you, walk in the freedom Christ went to the cross for.

  Coming Soon:

  Engaged: Surrendering the Future

  Trish Maxwell returns to Speculator Falls with crushed dreams, egg on her face, and the chance to make a new start with the very people and places she used to make fun of. She works hard and tries to convince the people of Speculator Falls she’s not the princess she used to be.

  As Trish pitches in with community events, she meets paramedic Wayne Peterson, the one man who doesn’t seem to judge her. Living in New York City has always been her goal, but the more she’s around Wayne and the Adirondack area, the more she’s drawn to revising her plan.

  Engaged

  Chapter One

  Shirley McIwain and her specs enter the Speculator Falls Department Store right before closing. Nothing like a big pair of bug-eye glasses to magnify my troubles. The right thing to do is greet her and see if she needs help. But, that’s the issue, I’m only the help, the closer while mom attends a fancy lawyer meeting in Albany with Dad. Shirley’s one of the senior citizens at the center I directed. The woman I handed the keys to in a cloud of dust when I left with no notice to start a new job in New York City. Can she smell my fear now that she’s walking closer?

  She saunters down the main aisle, stopping to pick up the black bear figurines and to sniff a vanilla candle. From there she walks up the slight slope that leads to the clothing section. Where the register is located. And where I'm pretending to read the weekly paper.

  Please don’t come over and ask me why I’m back in Speculator Falls.

  As Shirley crosses the threshold and enters the world of sweatshirts, flannel and every kind of Adirondack logo imaginable, she stops near the gloves and picks up a pair, seeming to inspect them as she holds them up to the light. "Do you think you made a mistake?"

  I look around and realize it's just us inside the store. I lean closer. "Excuse me?"

  She returns the gloves to the stand. "You know, Trish Maxwell. A mistake."

  I clear my throat and walk toward the woman with jet black hair curled under in a style that has to b
e older than me. "Is it the gloves? I sell the gloves. I don't make them."

  Shirley rolls those big eyes of hers. "Not the gloves. You, Trish. You couldn't wait to leave Speculator Falls for the big city. When you left, the senior center shut down. Remember? Your ex-boyfriend? Poor councilman Ben Regan was so upset with no staff, and he didn’t think as a volunteer it was appropriate for me to manage the center. Then there was the reminder of what you did to him, leaving the way you did. Ben made sure he closed the center for what he hoped would be forever."

  A line of perspiration slides down my back.

  She’s not wrong. But talk to Shirley? No thanks.

  "All so you could fulfill that dream of yours. But just like that, you returned."

  I clench my hands together to control the sudden shakes.

  "And in not much more than a year, city girl Trish Maxwell is back in Speculator Falls without a permanent job, helping her mom at the store."

  I try to swallow, but my throat catches as the perspiration continues down my backside.

  "So I wonder, was leaving here a mistake?"

  My eyes start to roll and my knees give out.

  ⌛⌛⌛

  "Trish? Can you hear me?"

  A male voice, almost a whisper, is the first thing I hear before I even open my eyes.

  But the person I see, close up, is Shirley hovering over me. Those big pupils can really scare a person.

  "What's going on?" I try to sit up, but my head collides with Shirley's. A hand lands on my shoulder and presses me down to the floor.

  "Trish, I need you to stay down until I've finished examining you. Shirley? Could you do me a favor and give us a little room?"

  Shirley disappears, and kneeling before me is Wayne Peterson, Hamilton County paramedic. I didn't know his eyes were Caribbean blue.

  "What happened?" Left on the floor, all I'm able to do is gaze into those ocean blues while he flashes a light between mine.

  Wayne clicks off the light. "You fainted."

  Shirley pipes up from across the room. "Remember? I was asking if you regret leaving the senior center and Speculator Falls for a job in New York that didn't even last a year. Your eyes got really big and then they rolled. Next thing I know, you're on the floor."

  Right. The whole mistake question.

  A whiff of breezy aftershave dances around my nostrils.

  "Have you been sedentary today, Trish?" Wayne places his hand under my back and gently assists me to a sitting position.

  I take a deep breath. "It's October in Speculator Falls. Not exactly turning the customers away here." I wave my hand to gesture but feel a stab across my forehead.

  Wayne lays a hand to steady me. "Duly noted. What I mean is, did you move a little fast after a period of non-activity? I think your blood pressure dropped and your body reacted."

  Ugh. Why didn't I stay behind the counter and let Shirley shop without help?

  "Yeah, that sounds about right."

  "I called for help right away. I even put the ‘closed’ sign on the door so no one would come in," Shirley said.

  That basic First Aid class at the senior center apparently did my former assistant some good. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

  Wayne velcroes the blood pressure cuff around me and pumps. When he finishes, he makes direct eye contact. "Everything looks good, but I want to take you to the primary care center and get you looked over. Although your floor is carpeted, you did fall, and I want to make sure you don't have a concussion." He gently pulls on my hand and helps me stand.

  "I'll take her." Shirley waves her hand.

  "No." I don't want to lose contact with my rescuer. "I mean, I need your help here. Ben's probably next door closing the store. I'm sure he'd help you close here, too."

  Shirley looks to Wayne. "Did you bring the bus?"

  He raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

  "Ambulance. Can you take her to the medical center?"

  Wayne grins and his five o'clock shadow looks completely adorable.

  How have I missed him in this small village?

  "Gotcha. Ms. McIwain, you watch too many cop shows. But, sure. I have the SUV. I'll transport her."

  He winks and I sigh.

  Shirley’s incessant questions before I fainted come to mind. Mistake? Shirley has no idea.

  ⌛⌛⌛

  The good news about fainting on the job is I did so near the end of the day. The Speculator Falls Primary Care Center's near vacant when Wayne brings me in. A girl walks out with a pink cast on her arm when the nurse calls my name.

  "What brings you here this evening?" The woman looks to Wayne, not me.

  "This is Jay Maxwell's daughter. She was at the department store when she passed out. I think it was a blood pressure drop."

  She glances over at me. "The one who left the senior center for the city?"

  So my reputation precedes me.

  "And lost her job and is back." It's always fun to talk in third person.

  "Well, Trish, let's see how you're doing. Wayne, you on duty?"

  He looks to his watch and rakes his fingers through his messed brown hair. "Just off." He turns to me. "But I can wait and take you home."

  I inhale, hoping to catch another whiff of that tantalizing cologne.

  "Not like I've got anything else to do." Wayne turns on his heel and heads to the small waiting room.

  Wayne must've learned tact from Shirley.

  Thirty minutes later, the nurse throws open the curtain partition. "Dr. Augustine wants you to follow these instructions. Everything looks okay, including the x-ray, but he wants to make sure you guard against head injury and see your family doctor as soon as possible. Sign here and you're good to go."

  I press on the clipboard as I scribble my name and hand the paperwork back to her.

  Wayne stands as soon as he sees me. "All set?"

  "Yes, thanks. I appreciate your help."

  He doesn't guide me to the car, but he opens the passenger door for me, a gesture I haven't experienced since dating Ben Regan. "You live with your parents, right?"

  I close my eyes. It sounds so awful to hear it out loud. "Yes."

  "Good. That way you won't be alone in case you have any complications. Not that I think you will." He starts the SUV and puts it in drive.

  "How about you, Wayne? You kind of arrived in town when I was away. Do you live alone?" Because I don’t see a ring on his finger.

  He turns onto Route 8. "Kind of."

  I raise my eyebrows. "That's mysterious."

  He chuckles, a low tone that’s music to hear. "I don't mean to be cryptic. It's not a cut and dried answer. I live alone most of the time. However, I have a son. Sometimes he stays with me."

  Although it's dark, I turn to look for a hint of laughter or sarcasm. There's none. "Oh. So, you're divorced?"

  Another tenor laugh. "Is your name Shirley? You ask a lot of questions."

  "Sorry. I don't have a lot of people to talk to these days." Not that I did when I lived here the first time.

  "I hear ya. It can get pretty dull during most of my shifts, too. To answer your question, no. I'm not divorced. To head off the next question, never married."

  Interesting.

  "It's not glamorous, but I became a dad when I was a teen. And I know Shirley gave you some pressure about your choices. You can only imagine how my hometown felt about mine."

  If his birthplace is as small as Speculator Falls, I'm sure the news spread from one end of the village to the other in five minutes.

  "You probably know my son. He's with his mom and step-dad a lot. Noah Rowling-Peterson. Carla Marshall is his mom."

  A flash of a young man with Carla and Will Marshall at church comes to mind. Seems like he had trouble not so long ago, but I can't recall more than that. "That's right."

  "This your folk's house?" He points to the Maxwell abode, front porch light on just waiting for me to drag my sorry self inside.

  He pulls in the driveway and puts the vehicl
e in park. "Try not to overdo it.”

  I open the door and hold up the papers. "I promise I’ll follow the instructions."

  "Okay. Well, it looks like you're going to be fine."

  Until I face Shirley or any of the still furious senior citizens again.

  "I think so. Have a good night." I climb out and wave.

  I take three steps when I hear my name.

  "You know, what Shirley said?"

  "Yes?"

  "I hope you don't think coming back to Speculator Falls is a mistake."

  My laugh exposes my breath and nerves against the cold air.

  Acknowledgements

  They say the second book is the hardest, and ENTANGLED: Surrendering the Past was no exception.

  My Prayer Covering team, you know who you are, your prayers rescued me from delay, discouragement, and detours.

  My thanks to Scribes 202 and Scribes 210 for their critiques. You make writing look easy.

  Kim Bilas, you were an answer to prayer with your editing. Julie Brown and Holly Hrywnak, thank you for being such faithful BETA readers.

  April Heeter, thank you for letting me to take your cosmetology book and ask you all kinds of questions, and for being patient with my stubborn cowlick.

  Pastor Gary Gray, thank you for permission to use notes from your sermons in my work.

  Aiden Bailey, thanks for help with Noah’s shirt. Carol Childers, thank you for giving me vision for Will Marshall.

  The CIA (Christian Indie Author) Facebook group, thank you for the treasure trove of information. Elizabeth Maddrey for formatting help, and Tracie Corll for her bookmark help/listening to me whine.

  Hannah Arduini, Tom Nuttall and the Entrusted book club ladies, thank you for the accountability. Tracy Ruckman, thank you for your grace. Alyssa, Amber, and the many teens I’ve encountered over the years, thank you for letting me hang out with you.

  Mom, for supporting me in every possible way.