“I know how you must feel,” Katy replied. “Jake betrayed my trust, too, when we were dating.”
Lil pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to focus on her friend’s analogy. “But he repented.”
“Maybe Fletch will, too,” Megan said hopefully.
“These things take time to work themselves out,” Katy advised. “You might have to talk to him again before you can move on.”
Lil stared at the African violet in the center of the table.
“Jake and I started reading the Bible together, and I came across a verse that I wanted to give you. I know you don’t like me getting preachy, but this really is meant for your mother. It’s an encouraging verse. I copied it on a recipe card for you. Would you like it?”
Lil wasn’t sure why Katy was changing the subject, for she didn’t feel as if she had finished ranting about Fletch. But then would she ever be? “Of course.”
Katy got up and moved to a small side table in the living room. “Let me see. Here it is.”
“Thanks.” Lil gave it a quick glance and put it in her purse. “It has been a rough couple of months. I can use any encouragement.” She blinked back her tears. “But I’m not letting you both down because of him. I have a job interview on Thursday.”
“You do?” Megan’s expression remained sad. “That’s wonderful.”
Lil touched Megan’s hand because her friend didn’t sound like it was wonderful to her, probably thinking of how Fletch had betrayed her hopes at Char Air. “Somehow this will still work out for us.”
“We must believe,” Katy added.
Megan placed a hand to her temple. “I better get out there again. If you can do it, then I can, too.”
“That a girl,” Lil replied.
She saw Katy glance up at the clock.
“Time for the chump to come home?”
“Yes, but you don’t have to rush off. Stay for dinner.”
“Thanks. Maybe another time. I’m not up to it.”
Lil’s despondency continued on the drive home as she rehashed their conversation. She grasped at the only thread of hope she’d received from her chat with Katy and Megan. If her interview went well on Thursday, she could land the job and go forward with her plans for the doddy house.
At home, she stepped into the mudroom and placed her purse on the shelf until she remembered Katy’s verse. She pulled out the recipe card, brushed off a piece of purse lint, and read:
Then they cried unto the LORD in their trouble, and he saved them out of their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and brake their bands in sunder. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!—Psalm 107:13–15
Usually Katy’s habit of acting like Lil’s personal Holy Spirit was intolerable, but this time, the words touched her soul. Lil brought the card up to her mouth to shield the sob that erupted from her throat. These words weren’t just for Mom. They were as personal as if God was speaking directly to her. Lil hurried to her room, shut the door, and fell to her knees, crying to the Lord to save her from her distress.
Fletch crouched in the lamb’s stall and wished he could crawl under the straw and hibernate for a couple hundred years. He was alone in the world, like the lamb. No place to really call home, nobody waiting for him at his sparse apartment. Nobody to ask him how his day had gone. Now that his budding relationship with Lil had been prematurely ended, he felt bereft. Bereft and alone. He put his back to the wall and cradled the lamb.
“I am the Lamb.”
Fletch flinched. Where had that thought come from? His heart raced to think that the Lord was speaking to him. Comforting him. He replied, Lord, I guess You know what will happen next, but things seem pretty bleak right now.
He knew what he’d done was unethical, but nobody cared enough to listen to his reasons for caving to Marshall’s request. He supposed that he shouldn’t expect more out of Vic than his shifting of blame, because if Vic had been a strong man, he wouldn’t have accepted Marshall’s monetary help in the first place.
Vic had talked his way out of the trouble with Lil’s family. He’d put all the blame on Fletch. He’d let on as if Fletch’s actions had been a bewildering shock to him, as well. Now Fletch lived under the cloud of dread, that when he least expected it, some farmer would demand that he not be allowed to treat their animals.
If the whole thing didn’t blow over quickly, his chances at starting any kind of practice or finding an internship around Columbus were doomed. And if his college instructor found out what he’d done, he might even be kicked out of the program. Why hadn’t he thought of all that before he took the video?
The lamb stirred, gave a small bleat. Fletch felt a stirring in his heart. Thank You, Lord, for reminding me that I’m never alone.
“Isn’t this a pretty picture? I saw your car,” Ashley explained, for she wasn’t usually in the barn much.
Fletch jerked his gaze toward Ashley. “You caught me loafing, enjoying the little guy.”
“Hey, you’re a volunteer. You can loaf a few minutes.”
“Except Vic always has work lined up for me.”
“Cottonball is enjoying this as much as you. It’s good for him.”
“You name them?”
“Yes, but their files have case numbers, too.” Fletch rose to finish his rounds, but Ashley stopped him. “I have something for you.”
“Yeah?”
She handed him a yellow sticky note with a date and time written on it.
“What’s this?”
“An interview for your friend.”
“For Megan?” he asked, staring at the note and wondering why Marshall had set that up before Fletch had even turned in the video. “I thought you’d be happier about it than that. What’s wrong?” He let out a sigh. “I got busted taking video at the Landis farm.”
Ashley’s eyes widened. “Oh no. What happened?”
Fletch briefly sketched the fateful events.
“I’m sorry it was the Landis farm.”
He wondered how she knew that farm was special to him. Fingering the sticky note, he said, “Megan probably won’t accept this from me now.”
“Maybe she will. It might help you win your girl back.”
With a start, Fletch asked, “How did you know about her?”
“I’m here twelve hours a day. I have eyes and ears.” Then she blushed. “Okay, so Marcus and I are pretty close. He told me.”
Fletch fought the lump that came to his throat. “Her name’s Lil.”
“I know.”
“She hates me.”
“Understandable. But that can change if she loves you.”
Love? The word cut his heart like a knife, because it carried some truth. In their brief acquaintance, he had come to love many things about her. But surely it wasn’t the love. The kind poems were written about. Was it? He blew a puff of exasperation, staring at the little sticky note. “You think?”
Ashley touched his hand. “Yes. Look if there’s anything I can do to help, I’m here for you.”
Marcus stepped into the barn just then and stopped short when he saw them together in the stall. Ashley jerked her hand away. “What are ya doing here?” Marcus asked in a harsh tone.
“I work here,” she replied.
“You know what I mean.”
“I was giving him a note from Marshall. He got busted,” Ashley explained.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry. Ya still have the camera?”
Fletch had the camera. It was still on the carpet, where he’d flung it. And his heart was urging him to go to it. To delete the footage he’d taken.
CHAPTER 18
At Volo Italiano, Lil sat across the black tablecloth from Giovanni and handed the head waiter her résumé.
Her interviewer was a light-haired Italian with a thick accent that missed many of the English vowel sounds. “The school is a good one. Everything seems in order, but … eh … I will have to
check with your last employer.”
“Beppe didn’t like me, but I can explain. First of all, he thought I was putting dings in his car. Then there was a family illness, something unexpected, and I had to help my parents. I had to switch my hours several times, and finally I had to give up my job altogether. But all that is over now. I’m able to give one hundred percent. I don’t think Beppe can complain about my cooking.”
“You ding cars, no?”
“No. He was a fanatic.” Well maybe just that once after I backed into Fletch’s. Lil jerked her mind from that errant path and shook her head emphatically. “No.”
“And how do I know that when another family problem pops up … eh … you won’t have to help out again?”
“Because I have a rent payment. And I’ve determined to meet my goals.”
“Is it too personal to ask about these goals?”
Lil squirmed. To get your job. But she knew that admitting she was eventually after a head-cook position like his wouldn’t help the interview. She supposed it wasn’t even very Christian-like to imagine it, but it was the truth. Instead, she replied, “To pursue my cooking career. I’ve been miserable these past months. Cooking is what I live for. It’s in the genes. I come from a line of potluck queens.”
He twisted his mouth with disdain, “Eh … potluck?”
“It’s a church thing.” She saw his gaze go up to her covering and back down to her face, seeming more puzzled than ever, and she knew she was botching her interview big-time. “I’m tired of driving a clunker. I’m putting my needs first this time.”
Now he tilted his head. “Above your family’s, no?”
“Yes. I will be the best employee you’ve ever had.”
He pinched his Roman nose and frowned. “You sound bitter. My experience is that bitterness spreads and infects.” He shook his head. “Eh … I do not like to be around bitter people.” Then under his breath, she thought she heard, “I have enough of that at home.”
“I love my family. But my mom has been experiencing depression. She’s much better, but if she slips back into it, now I know that there’s nothing I can do. Believe me I tried, but I didn’t think you’d be interested in personal details.”
“Thank you for sharing this … eh … which gives the better insight.”
“And if I sounded bitter, that was because I just broke up with my boyfriend. But I’m naturally a very upbeat person.” She shrugged. “My friends say I light up a room.” She couldn’t believe she’d just told him such personal details and even boasted about herself. She should have waited a few days until—
He touched her arm. “I understand.”
She glanced at him, and he removed his long thin fingers and folded them together, studying her with smoky eyes. Now they brooded, but she had a hunch that this man could be as explosive as Beppe and that Giovanni’s eyes could storm with the best of them. Only they bore a hint of sadness and a tremendous depth as if he would be the type of man to experience everything with intensity.
He blinked, and she asked, “You do?”
“Yes, my wife has these bouts with … eh … the gloom. But hers stems from bitterness because she cannot have babies.”
Lil glanced from the Saltillo tile to the live potted plants that sent trailing tendrils around their adjacent pillars. “My mom is bitter, too,” Lil admitted.
“Now I see that you are the victim, like me. Maybe we can support each other in this, no?”
His last sentence drifted away, as if he was talking to himself. Feeling awkward, Lil gave a hesitant nod.
“When can you start?”
The abrupt question nearly brought tears of joy to her eyes. “How about right now?”
“Good. I like that. Let’s go find a uniform. Eh … There’s a box of tissues in the stockroom, too.” He pointed at her. “But no. Not today. You start tomorrow.”
In spite of her general sadness over losing Fletch, it was hard to resist the garbanzo dance. Her new boss understood her situation. She nodded. “Thank you so much. I won’t disappoint you.”
His brown gaze settled on her, and before he opened the door to the stockroom, he said, “Eh … One more thing. In your case, I believe we will give you assigned parking.” He pointed, “It will be way out at the end of the parking lot. Eh … We will even put your name on it. Just until you have proven you do not ding the head chef’s car.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said sarcastically, wondering if he was teasing or serious. Well she didn’t intend to be late to work anymore. This was a new start.
Fletch stared at the video camera in the corner of the room. It still lay on its landing spot, drawing Buddy to an occasional sniff. He slouched down in his chair. He’d acted unethically by going against client privacy. Lil never wanted to see him again. He would have to face Matt at church on Sunday. Matt might tell other people in the congregation. The Landis family might tell other farmers. Vic might tell his instructor. Feeling trapped in a corner with no way out, he flung his red ball cap. It sailed across the room and landed near the camera.
If he deleted the film, Marshall might abandon him. He remembered the Lord’s nudging back in the barn. He was not alone, he reminded himself. But his situation remained grave. The entire semester might be wasted. Fletch might have to pick himself up and find a new school. He hoped his credits would transfer, that he wouldn’t be blackballed from the veterinary program. He was just a student. Weren’t student’s allowed to make mistakes?
He snatched up his phone and pulled up Marshall’s name from his contacts. “Hi Marshall. How’s it going?”
“Hi, Fletch. Actually, I’m talking from a hospital bed.”
“I heard you were taking some tests.” Fletch overheard bits of conversation in the background. “Marshall, you still there?”
“Can we talk later? I have to go.”
“Sure. I … wish you the best.”
“Maybe send up a prayer or two?”
“Of course I will. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Fletch dropped his phone in his lap. Was there something serious going on with Marshall? He’d never asked Fletch to pray before. The longer Fletch dwelled on the matter, the more he wondered about Marshall’s faith. Growing up, he’d just assumed that Marshall was a Christian because he contributed so generously to his parents’ mission work. It hit Fletch hard that maybe Marshall was trying to earn his way to heaven and had never heard about God’s gift of forgiveness.
Fletch had heard fear in Marshall’s voice. He racked his brain for a time when he had discussed Jesus with Marshall. Did his mentor know that Jesus had died on the cross for his sins? Had his father ever shared his faith with Marshall? Or had they all assumed?
He dipped his head and prayed for Marshall. While he was at it, he prayed for Marcus, and ended up by praying for his present situation. Time passed, and Fletch heard Buddy’s whine. He looked across the room. The dog was sniffing his hat. The video camera was still there to mock him, but he no longer felt hopeless.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
Buddy jumped to his feet, and his rear parts wiggled. “Go fetch it.”
The dog snapped up Fletch’s hat and brought it to him. Buddy was smart. He was a good companion. Fletch’s life might be a disaster, but he definitely wasn’t alone.
By the time they had returned from their walk, Fletch had a new perspective on his situation. He felt that he needed to let matters with Marshall and the video rest. He was going to concentrate on mending his relationship with Lil and Matt.
On Sunday, Fletch held his head up as his heart and the rest of his body slunk into his usual church pew. He didn’t expect Matt to sit next to him, but he was surprised to see that he chose the seat directly across the aisle. Inhaling a breath of courage, Fletch turned and gave Matt a contrite smile. He saw Matt’s cheek muscle twitch, but Matt gave him a frosty glare.
Fletch would have welcomed a sermon on forgiveness or even some practical advice about frostbite, but it was
the middle of summer, and the usually captivating preacher droned on and on about the Israelites’ march through the wilderness. Fletch tried to listen, but the message wasn’t getting through to him.
He found himself absently counting the stained-glass sections of the nearest window. He counted it from the top down and from the bottom up until he was completely satisfied it was exactly fifty-five sections. He was about to count them in individual colors, too, but the excruciating sermon came to a conclusion.
Fletch waited while Matt spoke to a pretty girl who had been sharing his pew. She was the reason they always sat on the tenth row up from the back. Matt was interested in her. Fletch felt conspicuous standing and waiting alone. It didn’t help when the girl glanced over at Fletch as if they were discussing him. A chill ran up his back, but he wasn’t going to turn coward. He took her glance as an invitation and crossed the aisle to face Mr. Frost.
“Hi, guys.”
“Hi, Fletch.” The girl squirmed and shot a quick glance at Matt. “I gotta go.” She squeezed past Fletch and whispered, “Hope you guys work out your differences.”
“Thanks a lot, Stauffer, for chasing her away.”
Fletch wanted to reply, Thanks, Landis, for squealing on me. “I came to apologize. I need to make things right with you. Can we go to lunch?”
“You pack us a picnic?” Matt asked sarcastically.
Ignoring the remark, he gave a half smile. “No, but I can afford fast food.”
Matt looked at the exit and then back at Fletch. “Looking at you makes me lose my appetite, but I won’t stop you from walking me to my car.” With that Matt started down the nearly vacant aisle.
Fletch fell into stride, one hand slipping into his pocket and rubbing the few bills and change he’d scraped up in case Matt had taken him up on his offer. As they walked, Fletch spilled out his story, giving the bare facts, which in his own mind justified his motives though not his actions. “I thought we were friends, and that you’d help me out.” He bit back his tongue from saying, I was volunteering a lot of hours at your farm so you could afford treatment for your animals. “I was going to talk to you about the filming the day you jumped me about Lil. I was going to ask your permission.”
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