Chasing Dreams

by Deborah Raney

  Despite driving a few miles over the speed limit, it was 6:35 when she parked across the side street from Port Cape Girardeau. Late was late, and Ben was the kind of man who considered three minutes late to be as egregious as ten or twenty.

  She locked her car, and breathing in the rich aroma of hickory smoked barbecue, she started toward the restaurant’s side entrance beneath the historic Coca-Cola mural high up on the brick building. There was a line outside the restaurant, and across the frontage road to the east several couples and young families strolled along the riverwalk, looking at the colorful murals painted all along the concrete floodwalls that held back the waters of the Mississippi.

  A few years ago, she’d seen the water at flood stage, but the walls had done their job defending the city against the raging river and disaster was averted. And those walls made for a picturesque view for those waiting to get into the restaurant.

  She didn’t see Ben in the queue of customers, but spotted a red SUV parked up the street. She didn’t know makes and models and couldn’t remember for sure what he drove, except that it was red.

  It still threw her that after more than two weeks without seeing either Ben or Luke, she’d spoken to both of them within a three-minute span. What were the chances? If she didn’t know better, she’d think God was testing her. Though she couldn’t for the life of her figure out the right answer to the test. Still, she was determined to take it one day, one step at a time. She’d clung fast to the psalm that reminded her that the Bible was a lamp to her feet and a light to her path. She would pick each step carefully and not run ahead of God as she too often had in the past.

  She’d just stepped up onto the curb in front of the side entrance when a horn tooted behind her. She turned to see the red SUV rolling up to the curb beside her. The passenger window rolled down and she bent to see Ben smiling from behind the wheel.

  “Hey there. Hop in.” He reached across and pushed the passenger door open.

  She climbed in beside him. “What’s up?”

  He angled his head toward the restaurant. “I tried to get us in. It’s a forty-five minute wait. Do you have your heart set on barbecue?”

  She inhaled. “It does smell good. I don’t mind waiting.”

  “How about if we drive to Dexter’s? I like their barbecue better anyway.”

  “In Jackson, you mean?” He would pick the one other restaurant where she and Luke had eaten. And made memories.

  “No. Let’s do the original … the real deal in Dexter.” His raised eyebrows made it sound like a great adventure. “Have you ever been?”

  “Who hasn’t? Mom and Dad always swore the original restaurant was the best.” The little town of Dexter, Missouri, home of famous pit-smoked barbecue boasted half a dozen restaurants around the state, including the one in Jackson where she’d eaten with Luke and Mateo that night. She wondered if Ben somehow knew that.

  “You game?” Ben tapped the steering wheel and eyed his rearview mirror.

  Jo turned in her seat to see a car waiting for them to move. “Sure. But Dexter is almost an hour away, isn’t it?”

  He inched the car to the stop sign, then made a U-turn. “I can get us there in forty-five. But this way we don’t have to wait standing out in the hot sun.” As if to prove his point, he cranked up the air conditioner in the car and sped down South Spanish Street winding his way out of Cape via back streets.

  He had a point, but it struck her that, intentional or not, Ben had found a way to circumvent her I’ll-meet-you-there ploy. At least he’d only be bringing her back to Cape when they were finished. There wouldn’t be that awkward time parked in the lane saying good night like the last time they’d gone out.

  Within minutes, they were on I-55 heading toward Sikeston. Jo leaned to look at the speedometer. Ben was driving his usual eighty miles an hour, but she kept quiet since traffic was light on the interstate. No sense getting in an argument before they even had dinner.

  Ben set the cruise control and leaned back in the driver’s seat, resting his right arm on the console. Before, when they’d been dating, she would have taken his hand. But she kept her hands clasped in her lap.

  “So, what have you been up to lately?” He threw her a smile before turning his eyes back to the highway.

  “Oh, not a lot. Work, of course. And then I’ve been helping Britt finish up painting and some other projects on the cabin.”

  “Is business pretty good? I’ve been hearing a lot about these Airbnb rentals. Seems like it’s really taking off.”

  “We’re mostly booking on weekends right now, but once we get the cabins done, we’ll probably get more bookings because those will rent for a lot less.”

  “Do you mind me asking what they go for a night?”

  She was a little taken aback by the question, but given that he could easily look it up online, she didn’t mind telling him. “The cabins will each go for seventy-five dollars a night. We get quite a bit more for the main cottage—where I live—thanks to Britt.”

  He shot her a questioning look.

  Jo laughed. “When we first opened, Britt accidentally set a price about twice what we’d planned to charge, and we booked it at that! We’ve actually lowered it a little since then. We aren’t looking to gouge anyone.”

  Ben shook his head. “Hey, I say get what you can. If the market supports it, it’s apparently not too high.”

  “I suppose …”

  He studied her. “It seems like you really enjoy playing hostess.”

  “There are parts of it I really enjoy. There’s actually not much hostessing to it. A lot of times we don’t even meet the people staying with us. We tell them where the key is and they let themselves in. But getting the cottages fixed up has been fun. And you know I like baking.”

  “Oh, that’s right. That’s why we have to get you home early tonight.” He chuckled. “So, what’s going to be for breakfast?”

  “Probably scones. That seems to be a favorite. I think it’s something people rarely make themselves so it feels like a treat.”

  “Mmm … I remember your scones.” He gave her knee a pat. “Maybe you can save me one next time.”

  She smiled, but tensed at his assumption that there would be a next time. But it wasn’t fair to judge him harshly for that. They had a past together, and the fact that she’d been willing to go out with him again made it only natural he would assume she’d thought it through and had at least strongly considered resuming their relationship.

  She scrambled to think of something to change the subject. “So … are you still going to church at LaCroix?”

  He reached and turned the air conditioner up. “It’s been a while since I was there, but … yeah, I still consider it my home church. What about you?”

  “We’ve been taking turns between our church and Quinn’s in Cape.” She shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to go to Langhorne … since Mom died. But I don’t want to horn in on Quinn and Phee either.”

  He laughed. “I doubt they consider it horning in. It is a public place after all.”

  “True.” She didn’t feel like trying to explain to him what she meant—that she and Britt had talked about needing to give Quinn and Phee space to live their own life without too much sisterly interference. Especially now that the newlyweds were moving out to the property.

  Ben’s wishy-washy answer about church concerned her. When they were dating in college, they’d been part of a campus ministry that Ben’s home church ran, but since they’d gotten back in touch, he hadn’t mentioned anything about church—or God. Her own renewed focus on prayer had made her realize how important it was to her that the man she someday married had a strong faith and a heart for God.

  Of course, it wasn’t fair to judge Ben when they hadn’t really talked about that subject. And even if he was going to church, mere attendance didn’t guarantee a man was living his life for God. “You’d be welcome to come to church with us tomorrow. We go to the late service so we can do breakfast for
our guests, but we’re still usually out by noon.”

  “Thanks for the invite.” Ben gripped the steering wheel tighter and tapped the cruise control up a notch. “I’ll … think about it. But since I work pretty long hours during the week, weekends are about the only time I can golf.”

  “Oh.” She bit her tongue. And then couldn’t any longer. “I really hate to hear that, Ben.”

  “What?”

  “That you’re not going to church anymore … so you can play golf. That … it doesn’t sound like the guy I knew.”

  “Sorry … Mom.” He tapped the cruise up again.

  She winced. “Okay, I had that coming. Sorry. It’s just … that’s really important to me. It always has been. I think you know that.”

  “It’s important to me too. But honestly”—he held up a hand—“and I know this sounds like an excuse, but I feel a lot closer to God out on the golf course surrounded by nature than I ever have in a stuffy church.”

  “I don’t remember LaCroix being stuffy.”

  “I’m not talking about the church. Just being cooped up indoors half the day.”

  “Half the day, huh? Their services must be longer than they were back when we were in college.”

  “Haha. You really do sound like my mom.” Ben slowed to take the off-ramp onto Highway 60, but the minute they were on the straightaway, he accelerated again.

  “Thank you. I always liked your mom.” She gripped the door’s armrest and gritted her teeth. “Could you please slow down a little?”

  He gave her a sidewise glance but tapped the brakes and slowed infinitesimally.

  “Ben, the speed limit is sixty-five here.” It was an effort to keep her voice even.

  “Thank you. I saw the sign.”

  She pressed her lips together, but didn’t say anything. The town of Dexter appeared ahead and she relaxed a little.

  But Ben took the exit in silence, and barely slowed down when they entered the city limits.

  A traffic light ahead turned yellow, and Jo sucked in a breath, gripping the armrests. From the corner of her vision, she saw a red pickup coming fast—too fast—from the cross street to her right. “Ben!”

  He cursed under his breath and hit the gas. “Hang on. We can make it.”

  CHAPTER 33

  HEY, BUDDY! DID YOU GET that extension cord that was on top of the speakers?” Luke checked the back of his truck, taking a mental inventory to be sure they’d collected everything. He didn’t want to have to drive back to Sikeston after some piece of equipment left behind.

  “Yeah, I got it. It’s in this tub.” Mateo nodded, his hair flopping up and down as he jogged toward the truck with the plastic storage tub in his arms.

  Sometimes Luke worried that he was taking advantage of Mateo, having him work these weddings with him. The kid was a hard worker, and he always chose coming with Luke over staying at Don and Valerie’s. He was glad. Not only that Mateo seemed to like spending time with him, but Luke did not want to wear out his welcome with his friends, who had gone above and beyond in letting Mateo stay with them anytime Luke needed help.

  Val had told him she got a kick out of Mateo and saw helping Luke out as a ministry. Luke wasn’t sure he liked being seen as a charity case, but he couldn’t afford to argue. School would be starting in less than two weeks, and Valerie had offered to provide after-school care again, but Luke talked it over with Mateo and they decided he could stay home alone for a couple of hours until Luke got home from work each evening.

  Unfortunately, the occasional late nights weren’t the only problem with these DJ gigs. Today he ran up against another issue. One that turned his stomach. This had not been a Christian wedding, and despite it being an afternoon wedding, with the whole thing over by eight, some of the guests were drunk before dinner was even served. Things had gone downhill from there, and got flat-out raunchy as the reception wore on. He’d no doubt have to make some disclaimers and define some embarrassing words for Mateo on the drive home.

  They finished loading the truck, and five minutes later, with Mateo buckled in beside him, Luke turned toward home, tired and a little down. Not only about the depressing things he’d witnessed at this wedding, but about the fact that he hadn’t heard one word from Joanna.

  After running into her at Baristas Monday, he felt hopeful he might get a call from her soon. But five days of silence ensued, and now the weekend was almost over. Maybe he was getting a clearer picture of her faults. Why couldn’t he get over someone who clearly didn’t want anything to do with Mateo, despite knowing how much he loved the kid? And now it was starting to look like she was the kind of woman who didn’t keep her word, didn’t call when she said she would …

  Stopped at an intersection, he flicked his blinker and started to turn onto Highway 60 toward Cape, but before he could make the turn, he spotted the strobe of blue and red lights coming over the hill. He braked and backed up a few feet.

  Mateo saw the lights too. He leaned forward in the passenger seat. “Uh-oh! Somebody’s gonna get busted.”

  The police raced by going ninety, Luke estimated. But right behind them, an ambulance and two fire trucks from nearby Sikeston roared by with sirens blaring and lights flashing.

  “Wow! Somebody’s really in trouble!” Mateo looked positively gleeful.

  “No, buddy, there must have been an accident. When you see an ambulance and fire trucks, it’s usually more than just somebody speeding.”

  “Oh.” The boy sobered.

  The sheer number of vehicles sent a chill up Luke’s spine. And as he’d gotten in the habit of doing, he tossed up a prayer for whoever was in trouble and for the emergency teams that would be working the scene of the casualty tonight.

  When the parade of emergency vehicles had disappeared in the distance, Luke took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He’d just as soon ignore everything that had happened at the reception, but he knew little had escaped Mateo’s attention. Might as well get this uncomfortable conversation over with. “Listen, Mateo. About the wedding tonight … the reception, I mean.” He prayed for wisdom. “Some of those guys got a little out of hand, didn’t you think?”

  Mateo’s face reddened. “Now I see why you don’t let me drink champagne,” he mumbled.

  Luke laughed. “Yeah … that’s one reason. Sadly, I’m afraid some of those guys talk like that, act like that even when they’re not drunk.”

  “Why did they do that? They were gross.”

  “So you … got what they were saying.”

  The blush on his boyish cheeks deepened. “Some of it.”

  “I wish you hadn’t had to listen to that. But the truth is, you’re heading into seventh grade. You’re probably going to hear that same kind of talk in school sometimes.”

  “Not that bad.”

  “Well, I hope not. But if you do, you do the same as you did tonight. Pretend you don’t hear it, and walk away if you can. You handled it really well, bud. I’m sorry you had to hear that kind of talk. There’s really no excuse for that. But I’m proud of how you dealt with it.”

  “I kind of wanted to smack that one guy.”

  Luke nodded. “Yep, I know exactly which guy you mean. I kind of wanted to smack him myself.”

  “I think the two of us could have taken him, don’t you?”

  Luke threw back his head and laughed. This kid surprised him at every turn. And he meant what he’d said. Not that he could take any credit, but he was so proud of Mateo he could have busted his buttons. He leaned over the console and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I think we could have taken him, but that’s probably not—”

  “I know, I know … What Jesus would do?”

  “Give me five.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, Mateo put up a hand and gave him five so hard it hurt.

  They rode in silence for fifteen minutes before Mateo broke the silence. “Hey, Luke?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “Can I get a haircut like that o
ne kid tonight had?”

  “Which kid was that?”

  “You know … business in the front, party in the back.”

  Chuckling, Luke shook his head. “No, sir. You may not.”

  “Okay. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  “And in case you were wondering, you can’t get a tattoo like that guy in the band had either.”

  “Awww, man!”

  They laughed together, and Luke couldn’t remember when his heart had been so full.

  Joanna tried to open her eyes again, but her eyelids felt as if they were made of concrete and she finally gave up, exhausted. A strange whooshing noise went on and on somewhere above her head until she wanted to strike out at it. But she couldn’t seem to lift her arms either.

  She’d never been claustrophobic, but she felt on the verge of panic now. Where on earth was she? And why couldn’t she remember how she got here?

  Phee! Britt! She tried to call for her sisters, but no sound came out. Only that infernal whoosh whoosh whoosh.

  “Joanna? Joanna?”

  Why were they yelling at her? I’m here! I’m right here! Stop … yelling! But again, she couldn’t get any sound to come out.

  It seemed like an eternity passed. And they were still saying her name. They sounded so far away. Was it Phee? Or Britt? She couldn’t tell. But it was a woman. And quieter now. With a question in her voice.

  Why couldn’t she open her eyes?

  “She’s starting to come to.” A man’s voice this time. Dad?

  Come to where? Where was she going? God help me! Why can’t I see?

  “Just keep talking to her. You see how her eyelids are twitching? She’s trying to respond.”

  “Jo?”

  She jumped. Or thought she had. That was Phee’s voice. Right in her ear.