A Journey by Chance Page 12

  “I moved your laptop to the kitchen table,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind? It’s so nice out here.”

  “Good idea. I practically live out here when the weather’s like this, not too hot or cold.” The woman was invading his space, had the audacity to touch his computer—and he was grinning?

  She hiked up the too-large sweats and sat down across from him. The baggy shirt sleeves hung below her elbows. “I hope you invite me back so I can go prince-hunting again.”

  “Of course.” After saying grace, he asked, “So a prince is included in your life’s plan?”

  “Seriously, no. I mean, you can’t exactly write in on your calendar the day you’re going to meet Mr. Right. I hope to have a family some day, but who knows? How about you? Is there a Miss Right on your horizon?”

  “Well, I thought so once, but…” He shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”

  “Mmm, this steak is perfect.”

  “Thanks.”

  She eyed him over a forkful. “So why do you think Aaron is in the wrong?”

  “Thought we dropped that subject.”

  “Not forever. Now we’ve calmed down. We can discuss it. Don’t you think?” She smiled sweetly. “It doesn’t mean we’re going to impose our views on them.”

  He frowned for a moment. This would hit a little too close to home, but those beautiful spring green eyes across the table encouraged him. “Okay. Despite the fact that I appreciate Aaron’s position as a doctor, he needs to be more obvious about letting Lauren know she’s first in his life.”

  “What else can he do?” Her voice rose.

  He held up a hand. “You said we had calmed down.”

  She closed her eyes. “All right. Go ahead. I’m calm.”

  “A couple of those patients yesterday could have been referred to a doctor in Rockville. It’s only 20 miles away. They weren’t emergencies.”

  Gina pressed her lips together.

  Brady continued. “Lauren wouldn’t have gotten so bent out of shape if she felt secure in his love. He’s not doing or being all he can. This has happened before. Yes, she’s going to have to accept that it will happen again. But his one phone call should have been five or six. ‘I’m thinking of you. I’m running late. Hang in there, sweetheart.’”

  Gina opened her mouth to say something.

  “Wait,” he held up a finger, “I’m not finished. The roses should have been delivered at the time he was to arrive, and they should have been yellow.”

  “The local florist didn’t—”

  “Somebody within a 30-mile radius had yellow. There should have been a handwritten note with them that said, ‘I love you.’ When he arrived, he should not have stopped to talk with others and filled a plate with food. Instead, he should have gone directly to her, ignoring everyone until he greeted her and kissed her as if no one else were around.” He took a breath. “He should have held her longer the night before.”

  She stared at him, hands in her lap, dinner forgotten. “That is the most illogical, irrational thing I have ever heard.”

  “But it would work.”

  She raised a brow. “How do you know?”

  “Because my ex-fiancée told me it would have worked for her.”

  She swallowed. “Oh.”

  He waved a fork toward her plate. “Your steak is getting cold.”

  “Oh. Right.” She fiddled with her napkin. “Were you writing at the time?”

  “I was teaching and farming full-time, trying to write in my spare time. All those things were more important than she was. At least it looked that way, and maybe they were, or else you’d think I would have done things differently. Anyway, I don’t want to see Aaron make the same mistake, especially with Lauren.”

  “Does she live in town?”

  “Who?”

  “Your ex. I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. She lives in Los Angeles.”

  “Oh.” She thought a moment, tucking her hair behind an ear, and whistled softly. “Strike two against women from California?”

  That hit home. “You know,” he bristled, “maybe if you minced your words a little, you’d be a lot more fun to talk to.” He felt like a heel as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Gina, I’m sorry.”

  She bit her lip and concentrated on her plate.

  He reached across the table and grasped her wrist. “I am sorry. I told you no problem, but I guess it still is at times.”

  She met his eyes. “Whew! For a minute there I thought I had just swung the third strike without even trying.”

  “Well, you know, since you’re a California native, that puts you in a different game. The other game involves only Illinois women who move to California.”

  She reached across the table and brushed at his shoulder. “There, it’s almost gone.”

  The chip on his shoulder. He grinned. “And I do enjoy talking with you, probably because you don’t mince your words.” He peered down at his shoulder. “Is it gone now?”

  Gina laughed.

  While Brady prepared dessert for them, Gina sat curled up with a sleeping Homer on the couch. A small lamp provided soft light in one corner of the porch. She sipped coffee, staring through the screens at the darkened outlines of trees. The bullfrogs croaked one at a time, their throaty voices answering each other from different points around the pond.

  It seemed odd, but she felt so safe with Brady. Brady Olafsson…of all people! She really hadn’t felt safe with anyone in a long time. Her parents were great, but there was always that natural barrier between the generations. Her world was so different from theirs. And she often hesitated opening up completely, sensing that she did not quite live up to their expectations. After all, she was jobless and had had to move back home. There were no grandchildren on the horizon. In recent years there hadn’t been enough time for cultivating close friendships, the kind that allowed you to pour out your soul.

  Then why did she do just that with Brady yesterday in the cornfield? Probably because she needed to so desperately, and it really didn’t matter with him because he was a stranger. What he thought of her or whom he would tell were meaningless.

  His comforting response was sweet, though. It paved the way for these hours today of just hanging out with him, away from the stresses of the wedding and her future plans. She never would have imagined from their first meetings that he was so easy to be with. It was also hard to imagine he was a famous author. He shouldn’t be such an ordinary guy.

  Brady stepped onto the porch and handed her one of two white bowls he was carrying. “Warm black raspberry crisp with vanilla ice cream.”

  “Mmm.” And he baked as well as cooked, a definite plus for her ravenous appetite today. “Thanks. I saw tons of wild berry bushes in the woods. Did you pick them?”

  “Just this morning.”

  “You are full of surprises, Mr. Olafsson.” She took a bite. “Mmm. This is wonderful.”

  “Thank you. May I ask you something personal?”

  “It seems we’ve been doing a lot of that today without asking permission.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” His eyes held hers for a moment. “It’s kind of like we’re in that territory where just about anything is fair game because after a couple weeks we’ll never see each other again.”

  “Exactly. It’s an interesting place, isn’t it? I totally unload on you yesterday, unlike I’ve done in years with anyone. I feel like this great weight has been removed, and we don’t even know each other. Are you a counselor, too?”

  He shook his head. “No, just a shoulder available at the right time.”

  Gina thought of the bookstore clerk’s comment about Brady’s shoulders. Words caught in her throat. It wasn’t just his shoulders. It was his long fingers smoothing her hair, his low voice whispering comfort, his heart beating against her ear, his cheek resting atop her head…a shiver went through her.

  “Cold? I’ll get a sweatshirt.”

  “No. It�
��s just the ice cream.”

  “You do have that blanket practically in your lap,” he referred to Homer, whose golden fur spread around him on the couch beside her.

  “One that snores. So what was your question?”

  “Oh yeah. Well, after watching you with my dog and the princely frogs,” he grinned, “I was wondering if you’d consider working with small animals. How about a pet vet?”

  She set aside her empty bowl and wrapped her arms around Homer, avoiding the piercing blue-green gaze. “Since the summer I was 16 I’ve worked at the Park in some capacity, from selling popcorn to giving tours to mucking out stables. My dream was to become a vet for the elephants, giraffes, rhinos, and tapirs. Then I accomplished that dream. I had my life planned, the whole thing. But now…” She shrugged, trying to shake off the turmoil of yesterday that was beginning to rattle again.

  “I don’t mean to pry.”

  Was her face so easily read? “I just haven’t come up with an alternative plan yet. I don’t know what I’m doing with the rest of my life.”

  “Most people face that dilemma at least once before reaching your age. And how many do you know who have careers related to their college degree?”

  She shrugged again and turned toward the screens. “I guess I may have to come up with Dream Plan B.”

  She had never met a man like Brady. From his writing she sensed that he knew of things she had intentionally ignored most of her life. God had His place, she had hers. They intersected on occasional Sunday mornings. Some people, like Lauren and Aunt Lottie, thought it could be otherwise. She looked back at him. “Aunt Lottie said that when God closes a door, He opens a window. What is that supposed to mean?”

  “That He’s got something better planned for you.”

  “Why would He bother with me?”

  “Because He loves you.”

  “But I’m just a regular person.”

  “Gina, we all are. We can’t earn His love; that’s why He sent Jesus.”

  “Your book is wonderful. I never thought of Jesus being a real person before.”

  A tiny smile lit up his entire face, softening the masculine angles.

  She grinned. “You look like a happy little boy right now.”

  “What you just said. It’s exactly what I hope readers will get, you know?”

  “The point being that He showed us what God is like?”

  Brady leaned forward in the chair, propping his elbows on his knees, and nodded. “That, and to tell us that the only way to be in a right relationship with God the Father is to believe that Jesus is who He said He is, the Son.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Well, there’s a logical explanation for it all.”

  Gina smiled. “Logical is good.”

  “Thought you’d like that. God created us, and so of course He loves us, but He gave us a free will. We get to choose whether or not we want to let Him be Lord in our lives. Okay so far?”

  “Okay.”

  “Being imperfect humans, we’re always going to do things our own way. Trouble is, God demands perfection, and He demands payment for doing things our own way.”

  “So what chance do we have?”

  “Jesus. He paid the penalty. All we have to do is accept that fact.”

  “And then we’ll live happily ever after?”

  “Eventually, but not during this lifetime. We still are imperfect humans. The difference is we know we’re forgiven. There’s great comfort and freedom in that.”

  She frowned.

  “Illogical?”

  “Too simple.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  “So what does He want from me?”

  “Just tell Him you believe in Jesus and that you want Him to be Lord of your life. He’ll do the rest.”

  She remembered her morning thoughts and her jaw dropped. “This is weird, Brady. I was wondering about Jesus earlier today, and I told Him I wanted to get to know Him better. And here we are having this conversation.”

  “That’s not weird. It’s logical. You asked Him for something and He answered.”

  She stared at him. “I suppose I should tell Him I believe in Him now. Should I close my eyes or kneel?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “How about outside?”

  Brady stood and reached for her hand. “Under the stars is my favorite place to talk to Him.”

  She placed her hand in his, and they walked out the screen door, across the deck and down a short distance to the pond’s edge. The smooth water mirrored the navy blue sky. Both sparkled with the silver glitter of a zillion stars.

  Brady dropped her hand and backed away. “She’s all yours, Father.”

  Gina smiled and turned back toward the pond. In a shy whisper she began to address the unseen that she had always sensed was expressed in nature and the animal world. “Okay, God. Father. I believe what Brady said, that Jesus is Your Son. Please forgive me for not doing things right. Please live in me now. Be Lord of my life.” She paused. “Do I say amen now? Okay, amen. Oh. And thank You.”

  She gazed at the sky. There was no thunderous answer, no zapping in her heart…just a single, unbidden tear that slipped from her eye.

  “Brady,” she called out. “I don’t feel any different.”

  He strode to her side. “He didn’t promise feelings.”

  She grinned up at him. “Of course not. They’re illogical and irrational.”

  With a loud laugh, he wrapped his arms around her.

  Nineteen

  Gina looked through Aunt Lottie’s screen door. “Uh-oh, Mother, here comes Lauren, and she’s not dressed for church.”

  Maggie peered over her daughter’s shoulder. “Her face looks ready for an argument. I think she’s still mad at you, honey.”

  “Can you and Aunt Lottie go without me? I’d better get this straightened out.” Her tone was resigned. For the first time ever she had anticipated going to church without thinking of it as a duty and now this.

  Lauren stomped up the front porch steps. “Gina Philips! Where have you been?”

  “Oh, Lauren, Aunt Lottie told you I was at Brady’s last night.” She held open the screen door. “Come on in.”

  “I know. She told me the seven times I called. Didn’t you come home?”

  “It was after eleven o’clock. I thought it was too late to call. Why didn’t you just come out to Brady’s? I know you’re good enough friends.”

  “Because then it would be three against one. The two guys and you, my traitor female cousin.” Lauren’s petite face scrunched in a pout.

  Gina rolled her eyes. “Aaron wasn’t there and besides—Oh, let’s go upstairs and we’ll talk, okay? I want to get out of this dress. It’s hotter again today, isn’t it?” She led the way up the staircase.

  In the bedroom, Lauren plopped on the bed. “Didn’t you see Aaron?”

  “You two haven’t talked yet?”

  “No!”

  Gina hid her look of disbelief by turning toward the closet and kicking off her flats. “I was on my way to deliver your message—and mine—when I ran into Brady. He was just coming out of Aaron’s office.”

  “Oh, swell,” she whined. “I can just see it. The three of you plotting—”

  “Lauren! Brady agrees with you! He thinks Aaron hasn’t made you feel secure enough.” She slipped out of the summer dress. “Trust me, your message was delivered to him, but not by me.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. The whole thing and then some.” She found a hanger for the dress. “Evidently Aaron’s as stubborn as you are since he hasn’t called by now. I didn’t even get to tell him not to call you. Why don’t you call him?”

  “Gina, do those hurt?”

  “What?”

  Her cousin nodded toward her leg.

  “Looks awful, doesn’t it?” She glanced down at the raised, reddish-purple, rope-like scars that ran down her thigh and over the knee. “No, they don’t hurt. I can hav
e plastic surgery done, but at the moment I have no desire to go back into a hospital for the sole purpose of enduring pain and agony just to look presentable in a pair of shorts.”

  “Gina.” Lauren’s voice was quiet. “I don’t know if I want to marry him.”

  She sank onto a stuffed armchair. “Oh, Lauren.”

  “He’s not going to change.”

  “No, he’s not. It’s good for you to accept that fact. He is a doctor. His patients will often come before you in his schedule.” She sighed. “But not in his heart, Laur. That’s another fact you can just accept.”

  Her cousin’s lower lip protruded. “I don’t want facts. I want unbridled passion.”

  Gina burst into laughter. “Then go after Brady. He seems to have it wired. He told Aaron he should have kissed you in front of everyone the other night as if no one else were there.”

  “He should have.”

  “That is totally irrational. Aaron doesn’t think that way. But if that’s all you need, he’ll just learn a few things that he can do to help you feel better. He’s a good, solid man who has probably bought you a pair of diamond earrings or something to make up for missing half the shower. Isn’t that irrational enough?”

  “He missed three-fourths. The gifts were already opened.”

  Gina groaned. “You know you both need to apologize. Who broke the ice the last time this happened?”

  “He did.”

  “Well?” She sprang up and went to the closet. “I’d bring you a phone, girl, but it’s down the hall attached to a wall jack. What are we doing today? I have jeans or jeans to wear. Are jeans all right? Oh, I have these.” She pulled out a pair of khaki capri pants. “If they still fit. I’ve been eating like a horse.”

  “Gina, how can you be so chipper? I’m calling off my wedding, and you’re yapping on and on.” She bolted upright. “Oh my goodness! What happened between you and Brady last night anyway? You two were together for an awfully long time.”

  Gina found a khaki-and-white striped shirt. “We really had an enjoyable time. Do you believe it? The guy can be all-right company.” She pulled the shirt on over her head and tucked it into the pants. “He took me all over his property. Amazing place. He cooked dinner for us, great steaks and this luscious black raspberry crisp. And we had the most interesting conversation. He told me about Jesus and how if we accept Him, we’re right with God. So I asked Jesus to be my Lord because I never have. Then we found constellations, and then he brought me home.” She held out her hands, palms up. “There you have it. I think we’re friends. Maybe. For the duration anyway. So you’ve got to go through with the wedding. That’s why we’re being nice to each other, you know.”