Just to See You Smile Read online

  Britte gasped for a breath. “Puh-lease! I don’t want any details! All this romance is getting just a little overdone for my single taste.”

  Lia smiled. “Cal and Brady invited Mr. Kingsley. They’ve been playing basketball together at the Community Center. They thought it appropriate to include him; make the new guy in town feel welcome.”

  Britte pushed out her lower lip in a sort of facial shrug. “No problem. The more the merrier. Lia, how long before we move you into Cal’s house?”

  She laughed. “Not long at all.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Some of my stuff is already there. I’ve just brought the minimum here.” She sat on the bed. “Did you hear about last night?”

  “A little. Did Pastor Peter really threaten to tackle Brady?”

  “He did. Your brother is quite the talker, isn’t he? He doesn’t give an inch.”

  Britte laughed. “You’ve noticed.”

  “And of course you both know Cal isn’t normally a talker, but the two of them got going with Gina’s dad, Reece. They squabbled like little boys over who had the right to reserve the church first for a wedding. So Gina, her mother, and I talked. Maggie has no problem with them renewing vows on Friday night. And,” she said, grinning, “Gina and I think a double wedding the next afternoon would be perfect.”

  “Double wedding!” Britte clapped and whooped. “I like it!”

  “It turns out that neither of us have definite ideas about a big, fancy wedding. We’re both delighted with small and simple and letting the mothers plan it.”

  “I’m sure the guys agreed with that.”

  “Not until this morning! We all met early in Peter’s office and figured it out. It’ll be the weekend after Christmas. So.” Lia raised her hands, palms up. “I know it’s fast. I only met Cal a few months ago, but he’s everything— No, he’s more than everything I ever hoped for in a husband. He loves Chloe as if he were her own father.”

  Isabel’s dark eyes shone. “And we all know that’s a major tap from God. Cal never kept it a secret that little kids bothered him, to put it mildly.”

  Lia nodded. “We trust God is directing traffic every which way here. We see no reason to wait.”

  Britte said, “It’ll probably be a tax advantage, getting married before the year is over.”

  Lia laughed. “That’s exactly what Gina said.”

  “I knew I liked my brother’s choice for my sister-in-law. But how can you plan all this in less than six weeks and during the Christmas season?”

  “Maggie and my mother are chomping at the bit at such a challenge. Mom knows Chicago shopping, and Maggie has connections through her work in women’s apparel.”

  “And Brady knows flowers,” Britte added.

  Everyone laughed. His extravagant habit of sending flowers to Gina was well known.

  Brady appeared in the doorway. “I heard my name. What are you all laughing about?”

  Britte stood, hurried over to him, and flung her arms around his neck. “Woo-hoo! The wedding’s set! I’m laughing because I am so, so happy for you!”

  He returned her hug and whispered, “Thanks, Itty-Britty. Thanks.”

  For a moment or two, the fire-breathing coach blinked repeatedly. It just wouldn’t do to have salt water dousing the flames.

  Of course Britte knew his first name. It was Joel. Mr. Joel T. Kingsley.

  From her perch now on a kitchen countertop, she balanced a paper plate stacked with pizza slices and watched him across the crowded room. He sat at the table with others, eating and occasionally almost smiling like a regular person. To a certain extent, he even resembled a regular person. Short hair, just this side of a buzz cut. A shade of black, the kind that would turn to iron gray because that color fit his disposition. Bit of an elongated face with furrows already embedded in his forehead and jawline. Nice ears. Yes, he had nice ears…attached lobes, not flappy ones like Cal’s.

  Unlike a regular person, though, he exuded military, appropriately enough considering he was an ex-serviceman from the Marine Corps. He wasn’t as tall as Brady nor as broad as Cal, but his ramrod posture and clear, deep voice effortlessly commanded the attention of students and staff alike. She guessed that at one time he must have been accustomed to giving orders. That fit his leadership position, and yet to her way of thinking, the man was just a bit out of sync in his role as high school principal.

  He had made sweeping changes at the school, an unsettling action despite some good results. Teachers for the most part adopted a wait-and-see attitude. The community hadn’t yet reached a consensus on whether or not it approved. On the other hand, the students thought he was great. Britte estimated their approval rating at 74 percent, unheard of in her experience.

  Which all added up to the fact that, after five months in town, Mr. Joel T. Kingsley remained an enigma to her.

  Britte glanced around. Isabel sat close beside Tony. Cal sat on the other side of the sink, also atop the counter, sharing his pizza with Lia, whose arms were crossed on his knees. Gina and Brady stood beside Britte. He had his arms around his fiancée in a bear hug, warming her. She had just arrived a few moments ago, wearing only her veterinarian’s lab coat over a turtleneck sweater and jeans.

  All couples. Yes, there must be something in the water.

  “Gina,” Brady’s tone chided, “I’m taking you shopping today. You’ve got to get a winter coat. This isn’t California.”

  Britte extended her leg and poked his with her toe. “This is his persnickety side, Gina. Do you know about it yet? Are you sure you want to go through with the wedding?”

  She laughed and untangled herself from him. “Yes and yes. Britte, I have something to ask you.” She leaned near and lowered her voice. “Will you be my maid of honor?”

  Caught unaware again, Britte choked up and swallowed a bite of pizza with difficulty. There were way too many emotions playing tag with her today. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Except for Brady, you’re my closest friend.”

  Britte set aside her plate, slid from the counter, and hugged her future sister-in-law. “Gina, it would be an honor.”

  “Thank you!” She returned the hug. “We’re keeping things simple. You’re my only attendant. Chloe is going to be Lia’s. And Isabel will sing.”

  “And the guys will be each other’s best man?”

  “Of course. Etiquettely speaking, it may not be proper, but we don’t mind.” Her entire face glowed. Gina was beautiful, inside and out, a compassionate veterinarian with brilliant green eyes and a Miss America smile.

  “Brady.” Britte turned toward her brother. “I don’t know how you won this woman’s heart, but I’m so glad you did.”

  He draped an arm around each of them. “Me, too.”

  “Brady.” Joel Kingsley stood behind him. “I’m taking off.”

  “Hey, thanks for your help, Joel.” They shook hands. “Thursday night at the Center?”

  “Sounds good to me. Gina, it was nice meeting you again.” He shook her hand and then glanced at Britte. “See you Monday, Miss O.”

  “Bright and early.”

  As he made his way through the kitchen, Britte picked up a slice of pizza, her appetite suddenly restored. Good. She could tell Isabel goodbye without his supervision.

  It was as if she didn’t want to let her guard down in his presence. There were no warm fuzzies oozing from this principal’s office! At the school he was all business, and that attitude produced results. He had made great strides in establishing changes, restoring much-needed order. The kids respected that and found him fair and trustworthy, even approachable. She felt that the 26 percent who didn’t approve of him were simply lazy.

  Yet, the thing was, she didn’t know the color of his eyes. Eye contact with him was fleeting at best. He was always on to the next moment, leaving a trail of accomplished tasks in his wake as well as a distinct impression of…detachment.

  One of the teachers had dubbed him “the General.” It
fit. School was beginning to feel like a military academy. His intensity surpassed even Britte’s, and she found that somewhat disconcerting.

  Which was why she had no inclination whatsoever to call him Joel.

  Two

  On his way home from helping Cal and Brady, Joel stopped by Swensen’s Market. It was a day earlier than the norm for his weekly grocery shopping. He greeted a few high school students who worked there and a set of parents in the produce aisle, stocked up on supplies, and then drove home.

  His newly constructed, two-bedroom condominium was on the south edge of town, just three blocks from the high school’s athletic field. It was a great location, affording him the opportunity to walk to work. Open corn and soybean fields surrounded three sides of the small complex.

  In the kitchen he started a pot of coffee, put away his purchases, made a salad for dinner, and poured marinade over a T-bone steak. By then the coffee was ready. He carried a large mugful into the spare bedroom, which he had converted into an office. A wide, L-shaped, cherry-wood desk dominated a corner. Manila folders were neatly stacked on a credenza to the left, a computer sat on the right side of the desk. At the bookcase just inside the door, he flipped on the portable CD player. Soft, contemporary jazz floated from small speakers. On another shelf, books were stacked in the order of to-be-read. He was looking forward to beginning Brady’s first novel that evening.

  Joel set the mug atop a coaster on the desk and sat, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and scooting the chair on its wheels toward the center of the desk. A sheet of paper lay squarely in the middle of his work space. It displayed a typed, to-do task list. There were reports to write, parents to call, schedules to consider, problems to ponder, lesson plans to peruse. But first…

  He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead on his hands.

  “Dear God. Thank You for today, for the ability to meet new people and to help. Thank You for this community. Thank You for the friendship of Cal and Brady. Thank You for Britte and other teachers like her, the ones who take their job seriously and don’t need my constant supervision. Give them the strength to fulfill their duties. Help me now in this work You’ve given me to do. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  He fingered the sheet of paper, musing about the orderly developments of the past few months. Cal, a deputy sheriff, had introduced himself the week Joel arrived in town. They talked on numerous occasions. The cop kept a close eye on the kids. Six weeks ago, he had introduced Joel to his friend Brady at the Community Center. They started regularly playing basketball once a week, sometimes racquetball. It was always a good workout.

  Even before he heard Brady’s last name, he suspected he was related to Britte Olafsson. He learned they weren’t twins, though they could have passed for a set. They were both blond with slender but strong athletic builds. Attractive. Tall. Not that she was 6' 4". The eyes weren’t identical either. Hers were set close together. That proximity and their piercing blue grabbed your attention, almost as if they audibly announced, “Hey! I’m talking to you! Pay attention.” Valuable asset for a teacher. As was her coach’s voice, low and clear, at times raspy after practice.

  Joel turned his attention to the large-faced clock positioned dead center on the ledge at the back of the desk. Its second hand swept away the moments.

  Musing time ceased. He read the first item on his to-do list.

  Britte and Isabel exchanged a fierce hug but didn’t say goodbye. They stood in the front yard. Britte knew the bonechilling wind would cut things short.

  She turned to Tony. “You’d better take excellent care of her or I will hunt you down.”

  Tony grabbed her in a hug. “Don’t worry. She’ll be in good hands.” Then he held her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “We’re only 90 minutes away. We’ll visit often.”

  “Right. That’s what they all say. My biggest dilemma is, who’s going to keep me supplied with salsa verde?”

  Tony and Isabel laughed, holding hands, noses reddening. “Okay.” She gave them both a brave smile and a thumbsup. “I’m out of here.”

  “See you, Britte!”

  She ran down the street to her Jeep. Not waiting for it to warm up, she drove past the house and waved at the couple still standing outside the front door.

  What she was going to horribly miss was their common ground. Isabel led a Bible study for high school girls. Some of them Britte had coached; all had been in at least one of her math classes. Though the group was unaware of it, the two women bathed them in prayer.

  There was going to be a hole in the community.

  A few blocks from Isabel’s, Britte pulled into her own driveway and pressed the automatic garage opener. The yard looked so bare this time of year, except for the junipers hugging the far corner of the house. Above the roof the backyard’s massive sycamore was visible, a few giant leaves still clinging to its branches. In front, the two maples’ barren limbs rocked slowly in the wind.

  Britte liked her house. It was one level, with three bedrooms, the third being only slightly larger than the bathroom, the ideal size for an antique library table and school-related paraphernalia. There was a wonderful old fireplace in the living room, its brick chimney running up the outside beside the front door, which was recessed in a brick arch. The dining room also faced the front. Its diamondpaned windows reflected the corner streetlamp already burning in the dark late afternoon.

  She had bought the house three years ago when the owner, Great-Aunt Mabel Olafsson, passed away. Of course the transaction was a good deal because her dad had inherited it along with three other nephews, none of whom wanted to keep it. As of last month, the house had belonged to a Miss Olafsson for 43 years. It carried a legacy as well as a bit of a stigma. Mabel Olafsson had been a beloved Valley Oaks kindergarten teacher for ages. She had also been a “miss” for eight and a half decades.

  Britte drove into the attached garage, closed it up, and hurried into the kitchen. She was a few months shy of three decades. Although it disturbed her mother, Britte wasn’t overly concerned at the thought of following in Great-Aunt Mabel’s “old maid” footsteps. As a teacher, Britte’s life overflowed with activity, challenge, and young people. What else was there?

  She flipped on lights and pushed up the thermostat on her way to her bedroom. Shedding her warm-up jacket, she pulled on a thick sweatshirt and then returned to stand in the living room in front of a heat register, looking out at the darkening backyard, waiting for the warmth to reach her bones.

  “I know You love me, Lord.”

  Her parents had taught her everything about Jesus, but it was Great-Aunt Mabel who embodied His boundless, passionate love for students.

  Britte shivered and crossed her arms. A feeling of uncertainty hovered. Not a common occurrence. Time to check the emotional barometer, girl!

  Life was satisfying. Teaching and coaching consumed her in the way that whitewater rafting in the Rockies left her breathless and exhilarated. When she wasn’t engaged at school, she was, generally speaking, a loner and she liked that. Tonight she would watch a favorite video, eat popcorn, and snuggle up with Brady’s latest five chapters he had asked her to critique.

  Snuggle up with a stack of printer paper?

  She shivered again.

  This feeling must be from telling Isabel goodbye…from hanging out with only couples…well, not counting General Kingsley, but then he didn’t count any which way…from the thought of turning 30… Loner was distinctly different from lonesome.

  “Jesus, I know You’re with me. I know I am the love of Your life. Sit with me tonight?”

  The furnace heat rolled up from the register now, surrounding her with a comforting warmth. She replayed the day’s events.

  Breakfast with Mom and Dad and younger brother Ryan at the farm—it was a tradition to haul Christmas things down from the attic the day after Thanksgiving. Shoot-around with the team—
the girls looked good, their attitude was topnotch, their free throws out of sight. Brady and Gina’s announcement—Brady loved that woman so much. She would complete him, fill in the empty patches of his life. Helping at Isabel’s—knowing her had enriched Britte’s life. Perhaps Lia or Gina would fill in at the girls’ Bible study. God, of course, wouldn’t drop the ball in the teens’ lives. And, above all, Jesus beside her every moment of the day—

  Britte grinned and laughed softly.

  “If I’m all that lonesome, I can always drink a jug of tap water.”

  Three

  The hotel room’s door handle rattled.

  Anne Sutton uncurled herself from the plush armchair and, with her nose still buried in a paperback book, walked across the room. She pulled open the door. “Hey, mister.”

  “You’d yell at the kids if they did that.”

  “Did what?” Turning the page, she moseyed back to the chair.

  “Opened the door without asking who’s there.”

  “Oh, Alec,” she objected with a little smile, eyeing him over the top of her reading glasses. “You’re the only one who would be standing out there in the hallway fiddling with the card key.”

  “Most ridiculous thing ever invented.” He tossed it onto the desktop and unfastened his watch. “Why are you still awake?” Not waiting for a reply, he headed toward the bathroom, peeling off his long-sleeved, sage green polo shirt.

  Anne returned to her reading, eager to finish the chapter. It was a thrilling courtroom scene. Who was the bad guy? Oh no! Cliff-hanging last sentence. She peeked at the next chapter and then smacked the book shut. Save it! She set it aside with her glasses and scurried to the bathroom, where her husband stood at the sink, splashing water on his face.

  She slipped her arms around his middle. For a 39-yearold, he had a nice waist. She spoke to the back of his head, at the naturally wavy nut brown hair. He needed a haircut. “I’m awake because it’s our annual one night in a hotel without the kids. I want to savor the awareness that I do not have to listen for them in the night, that I do not have to hear cartoons at the crack of dawn, that I do not have to juggle carpools tomorrow.”