Hearts Crossing (Woodland)

by Marianne Evans

  At first he just shrugged, but then he went back to work. Briskly. “It's easier to believe in the tangible results of good works, even punishment for bad ones, than it is to believe in the unseen and unheard.”

  Daveny settled onto her knees, cushioned from the ground by a protective pad. Almost like a plea she asked, “What happened to make you feel that way, Collin?”

  “Some day I'll tell you.”

  “But not today?”

  His shoulders sagged as if burdened by a weight he could hardly bear.

  “I'm a little raw today, so this probably isn't the best time to delve deep.” He looked at her in earnest. “Daveny, it's not you. Honestly, it's not.” There he paused, seeming to consider. He examined the soil, running his gloved hand over its base. “I know what I'm saying may sound overly dramatic; I don't mean for it to. I feel like I'm at a complete crossroads right now.” Daveny moved to speak, but he held up a hand to stave off further questioning. “I'll work it out, but for now I'm trying to sort things out. I'm just in a funk, I guess. Sorry for not being better company.”

  The admission made her bold. She didn't hesitate. She kissed his cheek, her lashes fluttering closed against his skin as she did so. The pleasant scent of male musk, the tang of salt from his sweat-touched skin skimmed through her. The essence of him remained on Daveny's lips as she moved slowly away.

  “You're fine company, Collin.”

  The expression he wore when she looked at him put her heart to work in double time, her pulse racing in syncopation to its beat. Heat flushed through her system when she saw the need, the undisguised hope and openness in his eyes.

  Looking at him this way left Daveny with the strangest feeling that those were emotions he didn't allow himself to feel, or reveal, very often.

  If ever there was someone in need of God's loving embrace, and a renewed faith, Collin, it's you.

  I don't know all the details. I don't need to know all the details yet. I simply need to reach out to a questing soul and maybe help you find your way back home.

  The words seeped into Daveny's mind as though spoken aloud and directly.

  Will of God? A purpose?

  Her teeth sank gently into her lower lip when she found herself lost within his eyes and saturated by the pleasure she felt in simply being near him.

  Collin called to a longing in her heart; he elicited patterns in Daveny's soul that left her yearning and wistful. She wanted a man like Collin Edwards in her life. She craved his intimacy, a connection both physical and emotional.

  In that moment she leaned close once more, the space between them closing slowly but surely; at the last second Daveny blinked and took a deep breath—trembling.

  “I want you to know something,” she said. “It’s OK if you don’t open up to me today or in a week or even a month. I just hope you do so at some point. I’d feel honored by that degree of trust and faith. ’Til then, I promise I won't push. The ball is in your court, OK?”

  Something about the statement left his eyes seeming haunted.

  But he nodded—and that was enough. For now.

  They resumed their task, and Daveny mulled over the circumstances.

  Sandy was a member of the media. As such, Daveny could probably perform an Internet search and gain some unobtrusive history simply by virtue of her stature. Something in her arrival and the currents she stirred piqued Daveny's curiosity.

  11

  Tuesday morning dawned with sunshine, sweet air, and soft breezes. Collin carried his golf clubs out of the garage, settling them next to his truck.

  C'mon, Edwards. This is no big deal. Explain everything to Daveny. Move forward. Move forward or you'll regret it.

  That truth didn't make his present reality any easier. Sandy's reemergence gave Collin much to think about—not because of harbored feelings, but because the situation treaded fine lines both in his relationship with Daveny and the very real, very passionate feelings he maintained about his faith life.

  Bottom line? Big deal or no big deal, Daveny Montgomery infiltrated a part of his heart he had deliberately and resolutely nailed shut. Something about her compelled Collin toward the truth, and into a more objective, distanced view of the guilt and shame he still had difficulty releasing.

  “Hello, Collin.”

  A beat of silence passed as Collin absorbed the greeting of a familiar female voice.

  Well, he thought wryly, she hasn't forgotten the way to my condo.

  “Hi, Sandy. How are you?”

  His tentative greeting faded to nature noise, billowing breezes and more distant traffic sounds. Collin hoisted and stored his clubs, closing the back latch of his truck. Then he turned to face the inevitable.

  “I'm OK,” she replied. “I saw you the other day and wanted to say hello, but—”

  “Yeah, I saw you and your crew from WWJ.”

  “But you didn't stop by either.”

  Her eyes teased, but he read between the lines. We saw each other and practiced avoidance.

  “I didn't want to get in the way,” he said, extricating himself as best he could.

  She offered a shrug and a gracious degree of understanding. Pulling a hair tie from her pocket, she threaded fiery hued curls into a ponytail. “I'm glad to see you helping out. It's actually why I'm here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Can you spare a few minutes to talk before pulling out?”

  Briefly she glanced at the golf clubs. Due to finals scheduling, Collin didn't have to report to school until after lunch so he was on his way to a morning session at the driving range with Marty and Jeremy.

  “I've got a few minutes before I have to leave. Come on back and I'll get us some lemonade.”

  Collin led her to the backyard patio and extended the table umbrella to afford them a bit of shade.

  “I'm actually here in an official capacity, in case you're worried,” she informed.

  About to walk inside, Collin turned and met her gaze squarely. “I'm not worried, Sandy. You and I have been through more than enough. We don't have anything between us that should cause any more worry or pain. Right?”

  All she did was nod.

  Minutes later they sat comfortably, sipping the iced, sweet beverage. “Daveny tells me you and your family have been active supporters of the beautification.”

  Hooked into church, back where he had started and ended. The panic inside Collin began to swell. On the heels of his conversation with Pastor Ken at the picnic, then Daveny thereafter, this meeting with Sandy hit on a number of nerves.

  “I don't know, Sandy. I mean, my mom and dad, Marty and JB, they're a lot more involved in the activities at Woodland than me. They know more about—”

  “But I'd like to talk to you.”

  The interruption was quietly firm—gentle, but insistent. Rife with double meaning.

  Temporarily delaying plans to practice his golf swing, Collin settled back and nodded in invitation.

  “You've changed,” she observed. “You've started to reemerge. Finally.”

  The last part sounded a bit like a dig—until he looked into her vulnerable eyes.

  Make it right, came an instinctive prompting, a voice from within.

  “The project has helped.”

  “Church helped, or the renovations helped?”

  “One step at a time,” he answered, offering an intent look. “I still haven’t braved services; I’m just not there yet.” Discomfort prompted him to shift topics. “The exposure you're going to give the church through Community Spotlight is a huge benefit. Thank you for that.”

  “It's my church, too,” she replied simply.

  “It hasn't been my church in a long time; coming back though, even as a grounds worker, somehow feels like a homecoming. I never expected that. The prodigal, I suppose.”

  She thought about that for a moment, and then admitted in a torn voice, “I miss you, Collin.”

  He kept quiet at that comment but watched her steadily. Make it right... />
  “I didn't want to leave,” she continued, “but—”

  “But I didn't give you much of a choice did I?”

  To that, she didn't reply. “Seeing you at Woodland the other day, remembering the plans we made, it brought back a lot of happy memories I have of you.” She shrugged lightly. “Of the two of us. And there were a lot of them. I may have tried to forget, but that doesn't change the truth.”

  “There were a lot of good things we gave each other, Sandy. I wouldn't be who I am without what you brought to my life. I haven't forgotten that, and I never will.”

  “But?”

  “But.” Collin regarded her steadily; the image of Daveny danced against the edges of his mind, settled richly into his soul.

  Sandy finished her lemonade and stood to leave. “I'm glad I stopped by. Hope you don't mind. I had to at least...at least talk to you.”

  She started to turn, not quite meeting Collin's eyes; he couldn't allow the retreat. Not on those terms. Gently he took hold of her hand until their eyes met.

  Collin gave her a smile that came right from his heart. “Thanks, Sandy. You're a special lady.”

  Her eyes filled, but she smiled back. “That road goes both ways, Collin. I think I'll give your mom a call and see if she's game for a radio interview.”

  “Knowing Mom, she'll be thrilled.”

  “See you.”

  He nodded, watching her leave. In doing so, the oddest thing happened. He bid an internal farewell to sores that had truly healed and were returning to normalcy as the result of nothing more than acceptance and the power of loving care.

  The realization left Collin straightening, staring straight ahead as he realized what else needed to be done.

  Promptly.

  12

  Tuesday afternoon Daveny sat in her office. Stewing.

  Curiosity about Sandy Pierson dominated her thoughts and overrode restraint. Compelled by the need to know more about her, Daveny hesitantly logged onto Google. Within the search engine, she typed Sandy's name and slowly clicked her way forward.

  Kiara entered Daveny's office with her typical burst of energy and chic verve.

  Daveny grinned at her. “Have you recovered yet?” she asked, discreetly checking the results on her screen. There were a number of entries, thanks to Sandy’s stature as a member of the media.

  Putting on a pout, Kiara held up her hands so Daveny could see her fingernails. Sure enough. Two of them were now shorter than the rest. “Oh, what I sacrifice for my job!”

  Her theatrical moanings caused Daveny to laugh. “Don't be such a sissy. Take it like a woman.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kiara settled into the chair before Daveny's desk.

  “And remember, the help you've provided is for the greater good.”

  “Uh-huh, part two.”

  They shared a laugh, and then surprisingly, Kiara went shy. She studied her hands. “Actually I don't mind the battered nails much. Besides, I think Pastor Ken is incredible, Dav. I got to spend some time talking to him during the picnic, and I have to say, he hardly seems like a stodgy, stern man of the cloth type guy. I like his attitude.” Daveny ignored incoming search results and focused instead on her colleague. There was a thread of irrefutable longing in Kiara's tone that left Daveny plagued by sadness. Kiara was a fantastic individual, inside and out.

  “But, typical to the story of my life, the third finger of the left hand is a dead giveaway. Story of my life—the good ones are always taken. Like, say, Collin for example. He's hooked on you, Dav.”

  That comment snapped Daveny free of introspection. Another of Kiara’s formidable talents? Expert table turning.

  “Some day,” she concluded quietly, “I want a man to look at me the way Collin looks at you.”

  “Honey, they do look at you that way.”

  An unexpected degree of melancholy crossed Kiara’s features. “Maybe, but not for the same reason.”

  Daveny’s thoughts crashed on a wave of guilt. Now it seemed sneaky to Net search a woman who, it seemed, carried ties to Collin’s family. Still, her gaze strayed to the flat screen; she itched to explore the items on display.

  Soon Kiara leaned forward, waving a hand in front of Daveny's eyes.

  “You still with me?”

  “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

  “Obviously. Humm. Happened the minute I mentioned Collin. You guys getting together again any time soon?”

  Daveny cleared her throat and shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t have much to say the other day.”

  “What would you think of me joining your church, Dav? I know it may sound corny and all, but it feels like family. I want to start going to church again.”

  Daveny gave her an emphatic nod and relaxed against her chair. “Seriously? I think that'd be great. Come to services on Sunday. They're at ten o'clock. We can sit together if you want.”

  “That'd be perfect.” Kiara lifted out of the chair. “For now, I'm headed back to the grindstone.”

  When she left, Daveny turned back to her computer, greedily clicking through the search results.

  ****

  Neighbors In The News

  Terrance and Claire Pierson of Shelby Township are pleased to announce the engagement of their daughter, Sandy Pierson, to Collin Edwards, son of Benjamin and Elise Edwards of Saint Clair Shores.

  Pierson and Edwards, soon to graduate from Oakland University, intend a wedding ceremony late next year at Woodland Church of Christ.

  The Internet tidbit, gleaned from an archive of news stories at the Saint Clair Shores Observer, was the fourth item down on the list. Accompanying the blurb? A beautiful picture of a smiling couple—Collin and Sandy—with the entire future ahead.

  Daveny stared ahead blindly, drumming her fingertips along the edge of the desk, trying hard to remain neutral. Reasonable.

  The effort was in vain. Why did it wrinkle a piece of Daveny's heart to confront the fact that Collin had been engaged before? That the engagement had ended?

  Though stunned, her heart ached for him—losing a brother, ending a seriously committed relationship.

  Daveny read the news release about Sandy's new position at WWJ then clicked off the Internet.

  A chime sounded when the main door to the office opened and someone walked in.

  A few seconds later, Kiara ducked her head in the doorway, her eyes sparkling like sunshine on water.

  “You have a guest, Dav.”

  Puzzling, Daveny stared after Kiara who simply turned away in a smooth maneuver and left.

  In the lobby stood Collin Edwards, and the sight of him made Daveny's heart leap.

  “Hi there!”

  “Hi,” he replied, welcoming her with a smile that warmed her blood. She stepped into his open arms for a hug and pecked his cheek in a lingering way. Breathing in the scent of him was like capturing a beautiful memory and holding it close to heart. When Daveny began to pull back, his mouth found hers and closed in with smooth, warm finesse.

  “Sorry for just dropping in.” He seemed uncertain.

  Once she caught her breath, Daveny went about reassuring him. “Don't apologize. I'm glad to see you.”

  “Do you have a few minutes? Maybe time for a quick walk?”

  She checked her watch. It was just after four o'clock and a break sounded great—especially one spent in the company of Collin Edwards. “Absolutely.”

  Collin thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking around. Kiara could be seen just inside her office, diagramming on an easel. Her office, which was right next to Daveny's, along with an open, comfortably appointed seating area for clients, comprised the domicile of Montgomery Landscaping.

  “You're sure you don't mind me just showing up?”

  To answer, Daveny simply looked into his eyes, took his arm and led the way outside.

  Her firm was housed in a single story strip of stylishly turned out brick buildings that framed the east and west sides of Old Woodward in downtown Birmingham. Cent
ral to all of Detroit's most robust suburbs, Birmingham featured a bevy of shops to explore, restaurants to sample, and any variety of high-end establishments all within walking distance, places that were perfect to explore during moments like this.

  So they strolled along the picturesque street in a companionable silence. Since this visit was Collin's idea, she let him take the lead and didn't push. It turned out she didn’t need to.

  “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, to tell you.”

  “OK.”

  “The trouble is—it's something I can’t easily bring myself to face off against and confront.”

  “Until now?”

  “Now I can’t seem to avoid it. I just…I hope…”

  It was time to stop talking in circles. Daveny ventured, “Collin, it’s fine to hope, but hope can always use vindication, right? Open up to me. Trust me.”

  She placed slight emphasis on the last two words though she had no idea what the trouble might be. In the end, she simply wanted him to grasp the fact that problems or not, she wanted to be present to him. A source of help, and beneath that wish, perhaps even more.

  They walked past clusters of people who milled about and window-shopped the boutiques. Collin picked up the pace a bit. It seemed as if he quite literally longed to outrun something. So Daveny touched his arm and stood still. “Let’s sit. And talk.” She lifted her face to the warmth of sunlight and still summer air, sidling him a glance. “I hear an orange smoothie calling.”

  Soon they were seated at a white metal bistro table, beneath a green and white striped restaurant awning. They nursed their drinks companionably, but Collin's disquiet seemed to rise.

  “I wonder where I can even start.”

  The murmured question was a rhetorical, not meant to be answered. Daveny waited, leaning back against the wrought iron chair, letting the day's warmth touch a piece of her body gone chilly with trepidation.

  At last he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, who am I kidding? I know right where to start. The beginning.”