Autumn Dreams

by Gayle Roper

  Such jealousy was supposed to be a character flaw, they all said so, whoever they were, but he’d decided they were all wrong. Jealousy made him strong. It gave him the strength to resent her, to withstand her charm, to begrudge any favor done her, to cause her as much subtle pain as possible.

  But the frog-child was about to become a prince again. One million dollars!

  Tuck looked at the old man with his paunchy belly, sad eyes, and skinny legs. He didn’t look like a millionaire, but he’d made a great fortune by getting in on the California postwar building boom. The only guys richer than Grandpa Cal were some of the movie moguls.

  Even so, why was he willing to give away such a good-sized chunk of change? Sure, he had plenty of it. Sure, when he died, it had to go somewhere, but while he lived, why wasn’t he keeping it? It was a cinch Tuck would never part with a million for anyone.

  Granddad Cal’s sad eyes filled, and his jowls swayed as he shook his head. “Sherri. Your little sister. I still can’t believe she’s gone, even after all this time.”

  Yeah, yeah. Tucker put on his sad face. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep a smile at bay. One million dollars! And she’s not my sister, Cal. She’s my stepsister. Big difference.

  “Anyway, I arranged it that each of you would get your money when you turned twenty-five whether I was still alive or not. Your twenty-fifth birthday is today, Tucker.” He held out an envelope. “Here are the papers for the account opened in your name at the Wells Fargo bank downtown where I do all my business. You can move it wherever you want.”

  Tuck took the plain white envelope with a slightly shaking hand. He stared at it. One million dollars. Hank and Patsi sat across the room watching and listening, their gift on the floor beside him—the keys to a new Grand Cherokee. Not that anyone needed four-wheel drive in southern California, but it would be fun for the off-road tracks in the mountains.

  Tuck swallowed and stared at the birthday cake sitting on the coffee table, its candles half burned. He’d blown them all out in one breath, and that meant his wish should come true. Of course, none of his wishes had ever panned out in the past, at least until last year. Wishing that Sherri would disappear from his life had finally paid off. She was good and gone. And Granddad Cal’s million more than made up for all the other wishes that hadn’t come true through the years.

  Tuck arranged his features to look properly appreciative. “I’m overwhelmed, Granddad.”

  That statement at least was true. He’d expected something monetary. After all, the old fool had been hinting at it for some time. Tuck had been hoping against hope for one hundred thousand to bail him out of some bad debts and leave him some left over for fun. He’d been thinking too small. One million was the magic number!

  Tuck looked across the backyard to smoggy L.A. in the distance. He allowed himself a brief daydream of white Caribbean beaches and turquoise water, slinky women and sleek boats. So long, congested freeways. Hello, warm winds and unpolluted skies. So long, nine to five. Hello, unlimited leisure.

  Granddad Cal sniffed and used his handkerchief to dab at his weepy eyes. Tuck reached for the old man and gave his shoulders a squeeze. Who cared that the gesture was a lie? It ought to make Cal feel loved. Not that he hated Cal or wished him ill or anything. He just felt nothing for the old guy.

  It occurred to Tuck that he felt nothing for anyone except himself, unless it was his hate for Sherri. There was undoubtedly a name for such a condition. Surely in all the years of therapy his father had put him through, he’d heard it. Narcissism? Whatever. All he knew was that he cared not at all for the people he was supposed to love—nor for anyone else either.

  People existed to make him happy, to supply his needs, not to sap his emotions. Without even realizing it, Cal had fulfilled his purpose with flying colors. He had made Tucker very happy indeed.

  Speaking of flying colors, Tuck’d get a yacht with those little pennants that rippled in the breezes. Yeah, a yacht, and one bigger than his father’s. A picture of a huge white boat rose in his mind. He’d live on it anchored in some tropical port and lie in the sun with the women. He sighed in deep anticipation. Finally a life as he deserved.

  “I’ve decided,” continued Granddad Cal after he put his handkerchief away, “that the money earmarked for Sherri on her twenty-fifth birthday will go to you if she isn’t found by then.”

  Tuck blinked. Another million? Life didn’t get much cooler than this! He thought that he’d have to wait for Hank to die to have financial freedom, but Cal had preempted him. Tuck avoided looking at his father. Hank wouldn’t approve of the first million, let alone the second. These days Hank didn’t approve of anything much about Tuck.

  “Of course Sherri’s twenty-fifth is five years from now,” Granddad Cal said. “A lot could happen in five years.” He looked hopeful.

  Tuck tried to temper his excitement at the thought of a second million. He couldn’t show his excitement at the idea because that would mean he wanted Sherri to stay missing. Well, truth to tell, he did, but the family mustn’t know that. “Don’t give up hope, Granddad Cal. Don’t give up hope.”

  Tuck’s father spoke. “Dad, do you think it’s a good idea to give Tuck so much at such a young age? Maybe you should funnel it to him a bit at a time.”

  I knew it. Shut up, Hank! “Dad,” Tuck said, his earnest face in place. “I’ll use the money well. I’ll invest it carefully. And I’ll keep working at the office because I know that I need structure and strong goals.”

  Hank, who had made his own mark in the world by getting in on the new and burgeoning electronics phenomenon years ago, nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

  “And I hope Sherri comes home soon.” Inspiration struck him. “Why, I’ll use part of my money to find her.”

  Hank gave that little wry half smile that meant he didn’t believe Tuck, but he said nothing.

  So where was little Sherri? He hadn’t been overly worried about her for months because he figured she was dead, her body and the body of her boyfriend Kevin hidden somewhere.

  Then those strange phone calls started, and he was no longer quite so sure. Dear, departed Sherri might not be so departed after all.

  Thirteen

  SUNDAY MORNING DAN stood in the kitchen at SeaSong and tried not to squirm. He glanced at his watch once again and made a low growling sound in his throat. They were going to be late for church. He hated to be late for anything, but especially church. It probably came from being a pastor’s kid with a mother who thought the pastor’s family being late was tantamount to heresy.

  Cass grinned at his frustration. “It’s obvious you never had a sister. Jenn will be here in a minute.”

  “Maybe. If we’re lucky.” Jared pulled a box of Honeycomb cereal from the cabinet beside the refrigerator and began to eat it by the fistful. “But I’m not holding my breath.” He appeared unmindful of the crumbs that fell in a gentle snowfall onto the front of his deep green rugby shirt with Seaside in discreet lettering over his heart, then rolled with the help of gravity to the floor.

  “Hey!” Brenna said from the sink, pointing a finger at Jared. “Outside with that mess.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jared just grinned at her and kept chomping.

  “I’m not sweeping up your mess, buddy,” she said, trying to look threatening.

  “You need a dog around here, Cass.” Dan glanced at Glossy Flossie slumbering on the back of a love seat in the sitting area. “A dog would lick all those crumbs up instead of sleeping his life away like someone I could mention.”

  “Hey, now.” Cass put her hands on her hips and glared at Dan. Only the sparkle in her eye told him she wasn’t serious. “Don’t you denigrate my baby. Besides, what would the health authorities say about a dog in a serving kitchen?”

  “Probably the same thing they’d say about a cat,” Dan muttered.

  Footsteps sounded on the back stairs, and everyone except Flossie looked up expectantly.

  “See?” Cass s
aid. “I told you she’d only be a minute.”

  Abruptly the footfalls stopped and a muted “Rats,” could be heard. Then the steps echoed their way back upstairs.

  “At this rate, we’ll be in time for the final amen,” Jared said cheerfully. “That’s still in time to go out to eat.”

  The bell on the registration desk sounded at the same time Jenn began another descent of the stairs.

  “That should be the Novacks checking out.” Cass started toward the swinging door. “Let me take care of them. I’ll be quick.”

  Dan grabbed her wrist as she passed. He held his watch in front of her nose. “Let Brenna take care of them.”

  Brenna nodded. “I’ll be glad to. Mr. Novack doesn’t scare me now that I know what kind of a man he is. In fact, it’ll be good experience to see if I can sneer politely at him.”

  “Thanks, Brenna.” Dan dragged Cass toward the back door. “Hurry, woman,” he hissed. “Jenn is actually walking toward the car. This may be our one and only opportunity before she remembers something else she needs. Or thinks she needs.”

  “I’ve got my cell phone,” Cass called over her shoulder to Brenna. “Call if there’s any trouble.”

  When he finally got everyone in the car, Dan felt like activating all the baby locks so no one could get out again until he said they could. Instead, he cranked the motor and took off.

  The congregation was on its feet when they entered, ready to begin singing. If the first song hadn’t yet been sung, then maybe they weren’t late. Maybe the image of his mother tapping her watch would fade and he could get over feeling he’d broken what amounted to the eleventh commandment.

  Dan followed Cass down the aisle to join her parents while the kids sat with friends. He kept his face neutral, but inside he smiled. Something about following this particular woman into the pew pleased him.

  It wasn’t that she looked especially lovely in a beige knit outfit with cream at the neck and cuffs, though she did. It wasn’t that her legs looked longer than ever in the tan heels she was wearing. As much as he enjoyed looking at her, there was more to her than that wonderful hair, those hazel eyes, and those great legs. There was an enthusiasm about her, a fine intelligence, a spiritual maturity, a naturalness that appealed to him. Sure she was shy at times, but running together, eating breakfast together, even welcoming guests together had broken down most of those barriers. She was simply Cass, unique and wonderful.

  Suddenly the thought of waiting patiently didn’t seem so bad after all. If God was in no hurry to reveal His plans, then Dan didn’t have to be in any hurry to leave SeaSong, to leave Cass.

  Yesterday a box of his forwarded mail had arrived, sent on to him by the couple staying at his apartment. He’d tossed out all the offers for credit cards, all the pleas for funds for this cause and that ministry, glanced briefly at his bills, and fallen like a starving man on the Morningstar Fund Investor and his other professional journals.

  The pleasure he’d gotten, the satisfaction and contentment he felt reading those magazines as he sat in the turret in his little room amazed him. He expected that his love of and attraction to the shifts and currents of the business world, both national and global, would wane as God redirected his life. That was not the case at all. Even reading materials that were dated filled him with that sharp edge of appreciation for the complexities and connections of markets and moneys all over the world.

  He read eagerly for information about the more than five hundred companies on which he’d conducted due diligence. Which ones were still healthy and growing? Which ones were showing losses? Which ones were holding their own, looking good to the uninformed investor but screaming warnings to those who recognized that status quo in any organization was in actuality the early sound of its death knell?

  Why do I still feel so strongly, Lord? Is it because as yet I haven’t anything to fill the void that leaving my work created? I know a vacuum can’t exist in nature. It also can’t exist in my life. If being a vet goes—he smiled as he thought of Cass—where is what will replace it? And if it’s to go, why do I still feel the challenge and stimulation of that world so intensely?

  Now he glanced at Cass, standing next to him at the Chapel, singing to the Lord. She knew who she was. She felt secure in her family and with SeaSong. Of course, she wanted that derelict of a house next door, but basically her life was what she wanted it to be, what she had made it.

  She must have felt his gaze because she looked up, a question on her face. He gave her what he hoped was a great smile, and she smiled shyly back, her cheeks flushing slightly. With a little duck of her head, she returned to singing.

  Dan’s eyes slid past her to her parents, and immediately he conceded that her life wasn’t so perfect after all. Not that anyone’s ever was, but some people were more pressured or more confused than others. Cass was definitely one of the pressured, thanks to Charlotte and Lew. And Jenn.

  He was the confused, something he’d never, ever imagined he would be. How many times had he seen confused CEOs and felt superior? How many times had he given them advice on straightening out their business problems? What if he were one such confused CEO? What advice would he give himself?

  Whenever a company was in trouble, relational problems lay at the root of the difficulties, not financial issues like most people thought. It was the wrong person in the job, the unqualified man or woman making decisions education and experience hadn’t prepared him or her for. It was leadership unwilling to hire the best and fire the weak.

  Dan grimaced inwardly. He was here in Seaside because of relational problems. The key issue was his poor performance spiritually. He’d survived his early years in business by sheer hard work and grit. He’d become successful if success meant money, position, respect, which it did on one level. He could also term himself a success if by that he meant the satisfying feeling of reaching his goals. He had built the Harmon Group into the premier conductor of due diligence in the city.

  Maybe there had been short-term significance when he investigated a company and found it flourishing and well worth investing in, or even when he found a paper tiger and warned clients away. But companies rose and fell. What was booming yesterday could be risky tomorrow. What was wise counsel today could become fool’s advice next week.

  It was becoming more obvious daily that significance was ultimately found in the eternal, and only two things were eternal: God Himself and people.

  He glanced at Cass again. By that criterion, she was involved in much that was significant, given her care for her parents, for Jenn and Jared, for Brenna, even for Paulie. It was the messy involvement in people’s lives that held real meaning and brought real praise to God who had invested in people enough to send His Son for them.

  Dan was surprised to find the singing finished, and he hastened to take his seat with the rest of the congregation. He watched Pastor Paul step to the pulpit, and Dan opened his Bible to follow along as the pastor read from Habakkuk: “ ‘But these things I plan won’t happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed. Look at the proud! They trust in themselves, and their lives are crooked; but the righteous will live by their faith.’ ”

  Dan didn’t hear anything else Pastor Paul said. Over and over his mind replayed slowly, steadily, surely and it seems slow. Did it ever! But the promise was there too. It will be fulfilled. It will surely take place. God had something of significance for him to do.

  Lord, help me to not rail against the slowly, steadily, surely part but remember the it will surely take place part.

  He took a deep breath, deep enough that Cass glanced at him to be certain he was all right. He smiled reassuringly at her. For some reason she felt like an anchor, holding him steady in his sea of uncertainties.

  After church the same group crowded the same corner at Dante’s, and this week they took Dan’s presence as a given. Mrs.
Merton sat across the table from him and asked perceptive questions about why he was here in Seaside.

  “October is not the usual vacation time at the Jersey shore, at least not for extended vacations like you’re taking.”

  “Yes, well.” He scratched his head, knowing he probably looked as uncomfortable as he felt. It wasn’t that he minded her questioning him. He didn’t even care whether she was simply curious or trying to ferret out information about the man who sat next to her daughter in church.

  “You’re a very choleric young man, aren’t you?” she asked after he fumbled his way through an explanation of wait patiently.

  “Er, am I?” he asked, uncertain how to react. To him choleric meant angry and temperamental, but he didn’t think that was what she had in mind. At least he hoped it wasn’t.

  She was as alert and aware as anyone could wish today, her comments cogent, her faculties unimpaired. For the first time he understood why the brothers had a difficult time grasping how bad their mother could be. If you didn’t witness her incidents, how could you believe this vivacious and clever woman was ill?

  “I mean that you’re the type of person who is used to being in control,” she explained. “You’re used to calling the shots. A position of power comes easily and naturally to you. You’ve probably always had a feeling that you would achieve, a feeling of destiny even when you didn’t know what that destiny was. Am I right?”

  He nodded, impressed. “Defined that way, yes, I am choleric.”

  “Then this uncertainty must be driving you crazy.”

  “Right over the edge.”

  “That’s not surprising. I have several sons who are just as driven as you.”