“Chicago’s a whole lot closer than California. But I only want—” The closing door cut off the rest of Mom’s words.
Meg regarded the dining room table as the image of Jack working at the Beacon reentered her thoughts. This time she sat at a typewriter in the place of Ginny, pounding out her latest article then moving a hand to her rounded belly—
“Something smells good.”
Meg faced Jack, feeling as if he’d read her crazy daydreams. “Mom’s onion soup. Our tradition on Good Friday.”
He ran his eyes over her, approval written on his face. “You look nice.”
“At least dry and not like a drowned rabbit.” She looked away, lest her gaze linger on those eyes, his boyish smile, and those tender lips that had kissed her. Was Mom right about his feelings for her? She forced her thoughts back to reality.
He came closer. “A most appealing drowned rabbit.”
His gaze settled on her mouth. Was he going to kiss her right there in the dining room? Her thoughts went to the letter now stuffed in her lingerie drawer. “I heard from Mr. Gibbons at the Examiner.”
His face fell, and he averted his gaze. “And?”
“He says that on Mattie’s recommendation alone, he’ll hold the typist job if I can be there by June fifteenth.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets, went to the window, and stared out. “Looks like you’re on your way.”
Was that a catch in his voice? “Yes, if my dad allows me my college fund.”
The door to the kitchen flew open, and Mom came through. “Jack, can you carry the soup to the table?”
“Sure.” He turned and followed Mom into the kitchen.
Meg stared at the still-swinging door. Her mother was right. There was something between her and Jack, and Jack and Ginny, and Jack and whom-ever’s broken heart he’d left behind. Time to move before hers lay shattered on the new ballroom floor.
Chapter Thirty-One
Strolling through Elm Park with the lake as blue as the sky and Meg by his side was usually enough to cause Jack to feel that all was right with the world. But right then, what he really wanted was to sit, and all the benches were taken. Since they’d attended the sunrise Easter service and the rest of the Aldens were at the second service, this was the only time he’d have alone with Meg.
Earlier they’d enjoyed a pancake breakfast in the fellowship hall with the men of the church, including Mr. Alden, doing the cooking. Jack shifted his Bible to his right hand as they trekked down the shore path. “Let’s keep walking. Maybe we’ll find an empty bench toward the Riviera.”
She rewarded him with a smile. “I love the new name.” She picked up her pace to match Jack’s and peered down the shore toward the building. “Doesn’t it look magnificent? I can’t wait for the grand opening. The ballroom is going to be beautiful.”
“It’s a swell name. You really are attached to the place, aren’t you?”
She appeared pensive as they walked with only their muffled footfalls and a bobwhite calling to its mate to disturb the silence. Despite her frown, she looked adorable with her wide-brimmed straw hat festooned with pink flowers resting on her dark curls. His gaze fell to her red lips, and memories of their kiss under the umbrella tumbled into his mind. Of her soft lips that seemed to not want to stop kissing him. The feelings were mutual. He pulled his gaze away. Never thought an umbrella would be so handy for more than keeping dry.
“What are you smiling at?”
Jack started and cast her a sideways glance. “A very pleasant memory, but forget that for now. I could turn the question around and ask why the frown. You seem preoccupied this morning.”
“I was just wishing the black cloud of my father’s and Fred Newman’s connected past would disappear. Mom mentioned something—”
Jack stopped and faced her. “Miss Alden, this is an order. If this is related to work, there’s plenty of time tomorrow to sort out the situation. No work talk today.” He started walking again. “Let’s grab that bench up ahead before anyone else gets it. There’s something else I want to discuss.”
Seated in the shade, Meg buttoned her jacket against the chill, wishing that whatever Jack wanted to talk about could wait. He probably wanted to make sure she didn’t read too much into their kisses on Friday afternoon.
A short distance away, the Riviera stood like a newly crowned king surveying its domain. Soon it would be a beehive of activity. She’d been happy to see that old dance hall come down with its unpleasant memories and had anticipated spending good times in the beautiful new ballroom. Now, here she was, planning to move thousands of miles away, never to enjoy it. Overhead a cloud blocked the sun, and her mind went to her father. As much as she felt misunderstood by Dad, she didn’t want to move away while on bad terms with him.
“Isn’t this a glorious day?”
She crossed her arms. “I guess so.”
Jack jumped to his feet and boxer-punched the air, his navy-and-gold patterned tie flying in the breeze. “I feel as if I could take on the world and win.”
She huffed a laugh. Cheerful people were bad enough to tolerate when one didn’t share their mood, but today Jack was downright obnoxious. How could he have so much energy after all those pancakes? “I’ve been thinking, Jack. Maybe I should leave the mystery of my dad and Fred Newman with you and be done with it.”
“Hey, remember?” Jack sat and stretched his arm across the back of the bench, cupping her shoulder with his fingers. “No thinking about work.”
She faced him. “How can I forget the rumor when my father’s glare is a constant reminder?”
“He didn’t glare at you during breakfast.”
“Yes, he did. Sometimes it’s subtle.”
“Sometimes it’s imagined.”
She tossed him a disparaging look.
“Didn’t he agree to give you your education fund?”
She nodded. “Yes. After Mom’s interference yesterday.”
“And wasn’t he ready to drive around in Friday’s storm, looking for you?”
Her heart squeezed.
Jack flipped through his Bible, and the pages made a crinkling sound. “Something happened today during the sermon. As I read the passage Reverend quoted, I understood the words in a way I hadn’t before. Then when I waited outside while you put the ham in the oven, I read a different section and the same thing happened.”
Excitement bubbled in Meg’s chest, and as if on cue, the sun broke through the clouds. “Do you remember what you were thinking about beforehand?”
“Yeah. How full of pride and selfishness I’ve been, and how Jesus suffered my punishment for me. I prayed to God, apologizing for my sins, and a peace came over me. I knew He’d forgiven me.”
“You’ve been saved, Jack.”
His eyes widened. “Saved?”
She blinked and grinned. “It’s a word for becoming a Christian. I’m surprised you didn’t go forward when Reverend Hellman asked people to do so.”
“I thought about it, but when no one else got up, I didn’t. Does that mean I’m not a Christian?”
Meg hated herself for the tinge of regret she felt. Despite how upset she’d been with God, she could never marry a man who didn’t share her faith, and that had helped to keep her from entertaining much thought of a future with Jack, no matter how delicious his kisses were.
“Did you hear my question?”
She turned. “You don’t need to say or do anything in public to make your faith authentic.”
“Good. When were you…um, saved? Were you as excited as me?”
Meg’s thoughts drifted to the day her fourth-grade Sunday school teacher explained how the Lord had died on the cross for her sins, giving her a way to heaven. That night, Mom had led her through a prayer to commit her life to Him.
She smiled. “When I was nine. I was too excited to sleep, and I felt like I was floating.” Meg shrugged as a wistful feeling washed over her. Like how I felt on Friday night after kissing you. Wh
at was it she’d heard Reverend Hellman say? The order of priority was God first, then spouse and family, then work. Somehow she’d managed to reverse the order.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “This is the best day. It’s Easter, I’ve become part of God’s family, and I have my girl with me.”
Meg’s pulse raced. “I’m your girl?”
Jack’s smile dissolved. “Of course you are. Do you think I go around kissing women like that all the time in front of God and everyone? Granted, we were under the umbrella and no one else was dumb enough to be out in that storm, but I would have kissed you no matter what.”
“I thought…well, what about Ginny?”
His brows raised. “Ginny? You think Ginny and I are… ?”
“Why wouldn’t I think that? You nearly held a celebration party when she showed up, found her a job, and have been with her a lot. She’s beautiful and polished and—”
Jack’s lips suddenly connected with hers, soft, tender. In a flash he sat back, a grin splitting his face. “Only way I knew to stop all that meaningless chatter. Ginny and I go way back. We worked on the college paper together, and she got into trouble because girls were only allowed to work behind the scenes, not report the stories. But Ginny thumbed her nose and slipped a news article into an edition. She was booted off the paper immediately. I went to her defense and nearly got the same treatment. It was only because of a sympathetic professor that I wasn’t. Ginny and I went our separate ways after graduation, but we’ve always kept in touch as best we could. Ginny is like a second sister to me.”
Meg bit her lower lip. “You don’t look like brother and sister, always hugging each other.”
He moved closer to her. “I’m a hugger. My sister and I hug. My mom and I hug. My good friends and I hug.” He drew her nearer. “And my girlfriend and I hug, if she lets me.”
The sun had gone behind another cloud, but warmth surrounded Meg like a perfect summer day. “I like hugs too.” She glanced in both directions. “Although I’m not sure I want the world to see so much affection.”
He laughed. “Nor do I. Trust me, if we were alone, I’d be hugging you to pieces right now. And throwing in a kiss or two.” He brought his mouth close to her ear. “Too bad we don’t have an umbrella today.”
Meg giggled. “We’ll just have to take walks in the rain.” She faced him and their gazes met. She could drown in those deep blue eyes. “I’d love to be your girl, Jack.”
He reached across and squeezed the fingertips of her left hand, sending tingles up her casted arm. “Ever since the first day I was at the paper, I’ve wanted to hear that.”
Meg forced herself to take her eyes off him and stared out at the lake. “We have to remember, though, I’m to move soon…but we can enjoy the time until I do.”
She felt his arm, still resting across her shoulders, tense.
“You may not have to move so far away to get past writing society news. There are other ways of writing for a newspaper.”
“Like what?”
“Have you ever thought about being a columnist?”
“Don’t columnists have to be based at a big paper? I’m not sure what I’d write about.”
“Can’t say, off the top of my head. I’m only suggesting that you not limit yourself to one direction. Writing a column could lead to reporting opportunities later, and with wire services these days, you don’t have to live in the big cities to do the job.” He pulled out his watch and flipped it open. “If we start walking now, by the time we get to your place, your family should be home.”
They strolled up to the house just as the family car rolled down the street and pulled into the driveway. Mom waved them over, and Jack carried in the table decorations from the pancake breakfast while Meg followed with a bundle of tablecloths. She went down the twisting narrow steps to the cellar to leave the dirty linens then returned to a kitchen already saturated with the smell of baking ham. The men’s voices drifted in from the living room, and she stepped into the hallway.
“Jack, that’s wonderful,” Dad’s voice boomed.
“If your wife hadn’t invited me to church, I’d probably still be wallowing around, trying to find my purpose.”
“God does have a calling for each of us.”
Meg smiled. At least Dad’s acrimonious attitude toward Jack had softened.
“Meg and I had an interesting discussion a few minutes ago, and I suggested…”
The voices lowered, and Meg inched closer to the arched opening.
“Meg, are you eavesdropping?”
With her voice projection, Laura was a good choice for the lead in the play. Meg faced her sister. “Just passing through. Keep your voice down.”
“Looked like eavesdropping to me.”
“Meg, is that you? Come in here,” Dad called out.
Hoping the heat in her face wasn’t visible, Meg stepped into the room. The men sat in the matching wingback chairs that flanked the fireplace.
“Jack’s been telling me the good news about his decision at church this morning.” Dad’s eyes twinkled. “It sounds like you’ve taken Reverend Hellman’s challenge to heart, Jack. The final sermon is to be on Mother’s Day. Usually at the end of a series, the preacher asks for short testimonies on how the sermons have helped us. You game?”
Jack scratched his head. “And tell everyone what happened this morning?”
“Yes, but if you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to.”
“I’ve got time to think about it. Mom will still be in Colorado, so I won’t be with her this year for Mother’s Day. I’m sure I’ll be at church.”
“What about you, Meg?” Dad regarded her.
Meg studied the tiny buckles on her shoes. Dad might as well have said what he meant. Had she surrendered to God this crazy idea of moving to California? Had she resigned herself to God’s will for her life as far as being a reporter was concerned? She raised her eyes to meet her father’s penetrating stare. “I’m still praying about it.”
“Are you going to tell your father about what we discussed?” Jack asked.
She stiffened. Did he expect her to say that she’d agreed to be his girl? “I’m not sure what—”
Jack’s eyes widened. “About a possible column?”
Dad’s gray brows arched like a pair of croquet wickets.
“I haven’t given it much thought.” Unless she counted the million ideas that swarmed her mind the whole walk home, none of which sounded plausible now.
“What is this about, Meg?”
She shrugged. “Just an idea. I have to admit, it sounds appealing.”
“I think column writing is splendid,” Dad said. “Much better than news stories.”
Dad was encouraging her? She moved to the davenport and sat. “I’ve wanted to be a reporter for so long, I’m just not—”
“Meg is a wonderful writer, and a column would be great experience.” Jack moved to the edge of his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. “Maybe someday when the field opens up to women, she can become a reporter.”
“How would she start?” Dad patted his pocket as though looking for his pipe.
“She’d begin by writing one for the News-Trib, and then after it…”
Meg stood and strolled into the kitchen. Mom bent in front of the open oven door, humming a tune known only to her.
“Whatever help you need, I’m at your service.” Meg opened the icebox and took out a pitcher of water.
Her mother slid the ham into the oven and straightened. “I’ll never turn down assistance, but I thought you were visiting with your father and Jack.”
“I was, but they don’t need my input.”
“What are they discussing?”
Meg slammed the icebox door. “Me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
On Monday morning, Meg set out along Warren Street as memories of yesterday flooded her mind. Joy over Jack’s coming to faith in God had made it a very special Easter morning. And she loved the idea
of him calling her his girl, but at the same time, he’d had lots of girlfriends and had apparently moved on. She had to see it for what it was, not for what she wanted.
Meanwhile, she would enjoy him until June 1 rolled around. She smiled, remembering a time yesterday afternoon when Laura went upstairs to do homework and her parents went outside to greet a neighbor. Within seconds Jack had pulled her into the living room in front of the fire, where they shared a long kiss that had chills running down her spine and into her toes. He’d just whispered, “That’s to show you what I meant earlier,” when the back door slammed and they moved apart so quickly that she nearly fell off her high heels. Later, when she walked him to his car, they laughed over the episode before he gave her a quick peck to dream on. The man had a way of sweeping a girl off her feet, and she needed to be careful.
She reached Main Street. Across the road, the lake glistened under the morning sun. Meg always loved the park, but especially so on summer mornings when she woke early and brought her Bible to the water’s edge. Now she hardly cracked her Bible most mornings.
Maybe the change of scenery in California would draw God close again. And out there she wouldn’t have to wait until summer to spend time with Him outdoors. Helen had mentioned orange trees in their backyard, but would they even have a yard, given their tiny budgets? Would the warm breezes all winter long be enough to replace the warmth Jack brought to her heart?
Meg turned east toward the office. The Riviera came into view. At least she’d have a chance to dance in the ballroom with Jack before she left.
A horn beeped as Jack pulled up his Ford to the opposite curb. He rolled down the window. “Morning. Want a ride?”
Her pulse increased, and she returned his smile. Accepting would give them a chance to talk before work, find out how serious he was about the columnist idea. She hustled across the road before the next car sped by.
He reached across the seat and opened the passenger door.
She climbed in, admiring how his lightweight summer suit eased over his broad shoulders as though it were made for him. It probably had been. “Good morning.”
Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin Page 21
