A Promise to Remember (13 page)

When Melanie walked into Jake Sterling's garage this time,
Tony jumped from his seat on the floor. He leapt over the pile
of engine parts surrounding him and rushed over to greet her.

She nodded. "Hi, Tony."

He looked down at his shirt. Apparently satisfied with its
cleanliness, he threw his arms around her and squeezed tight.
"It's great to see you."

"It's great to see you, too."

"How're you making it? You doing okay?"

"Fine." Her answer came out wheezy and choked.

He released her and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that.
Got a little carried away."

"Tony, the good you do my heart is worth the damage you
do my ribs. I know those hugs are because of Jeff. That means
a lot."

His face turned pink and he looked over his shoulder. "Jake's
waiting for you in his office. He said to send you right in." He
wiped his hands against his work pants. "Probably thought I'd
keep you out here all night talking to you."

The door to the office was open. Jake sat with his back turned,
filling out paperwork at his desk. He looked busy.

Melanie tapped on the open door. "Knock, knock."

Jake swiveled in his seat. "No need to knock around here.
Open door policy, you know. How are you doing?" He smiled at
her and his eyes glowed with a hint of something tantalizing.

Melanie wanted to know more about what went on behind
those eyes. She dismissed the thought. "Thank you for what you
did at your church last night. Sarah told me about it. It means
a lot to her-and me."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Someone needed to stand up
and say it."

Melanie nodded in full agreement. "Will it solve the problem
about the mission trip? Sarah befriended this little girl last year.
Just the thought of not going is eating her up with guilt."

Jake tilted his head thoughtfully to one side. "It won't solve
the problem, but it certainly can't hurt. I've been thinking a
lot about that. You know what might? If you were to come to
church a time or two."

She should have known. It had to come around to religion
sometime. Melanie felt the heat rising in her face and willed
herself to maintain control. "What kind of hypocrite would
that make me, if I came to your church just so they'd give my
daughter money to go on a trip with the youth? A mission trip!
My lawsuit is not about the money. If I won't go to court for the
money, I certainly will not go to church for it."

He held up his hand to stop her. "I didn't mean it that way. I
think it would help all the people there to see that you are just
like them. Let them see that you are not the ... uh ... financially
motivated person they might think you are."

Melanie felt her anger fade, and in its place shame took what
remained of her will to fight. "I know you read the article."

He blinked an acknowledgment.

"It's all true, you know. Every detail about my past life that
was spelled out for all of Santa Barbara to read is true. Why would it help my daughter if a woman with my past showed
up at your church?"

"Melanie, your past is just that-past. No one is perfect.
We've all sinned, all made mistakes."

"That may be true, but most people don't make mistakes as
big as mine were."

"I did. Bigger. It's only through God's grace that I'm where I am
today, and that I will one day stand before Him-forgiven."

"Jake, like I used to tell Jeff, If it works for you, that's fine
with me, but it doesn't work for me.' Besides, you and I both
know everyone in the church would be talking and whispering
if I walked in."

"Not everyone. Some would-I can't deny that. But the ones
who would talk and whisper will do it anyway. Do you want
Sarah to endure their talk, or do you want to do it for her? Just
show up once-give it a try, and see what happens."

Melanie stood. She couldn't think of anything else to do. "As
I said before, I'm glad that stuff works for you. Thanks again for
helping Sarah." She rushed out the door and out of the shop,
thankful Tony was occupied elsewhere.

Blair Phelps forced himself to dress for church, although he did
not want to go. He needed to go to the office and bury himself
in paperwork. The Vitasoft people kept calling, asking questions,
offering vague, unsettling comments. He needed to give them
answers. Needed to focus.

But every time he closed his eyes he saw that bottle sitting
on the counter. Why had he left it there?

Andie's groans brought him back to reality. One more reason
he didn't want to go to church today-she looked ridiculous.

In some ways, he welcomed the changes this week had
brought in her. Some issue with one of her charities had given her the drive to get up and going again. That fact alone improved
life at home. Not perfect, but at least he wasn't coming in from
the office to find her still in sweats, with candy wrappers and
ice cream bowls sitting all around her.

But this deal with Mattilda Plendor overshadowed many of
the changes for the better.

Andie had always dressed in classics, and he liked that. Even
when some of her friends started moving toward high-end fashion, she resisted. She never looked gaudy or tacky, always elegant
and ladylike. Until now.

Today she wore a dark green dress that looked as though a
freshman failing remedial Home Ec had sewn it. The hemline
was shredded, hanging in stringy long panels of every length
and width. The material would have been less out of place
marching in a military parade. Perhaps the designer of this
particular number had taken out her frustration on some armysurplus fabric and decided to make a little money off the result.
She was probably perched right now in a penthouse on Park
Avenue, laughing at the fool who would pay for such a scrap
as high fashion.

Andie spun around and took one last look in the mirror. She
scrunched up the right side of her face. "I hate this dress."

Blair breathed a sigh of relief. She'd go change, and at least
one of his problems would be solved. He stepped aside to clear
the way to her closet. She didn't move.

He'd been married long enough to know that the wrong words
in a situation like this could land him in husband detention for
weeks to come. Think. Choose your words with prudence. No
need to create more problems than you have already.

He made a point of looking at his watch. Taking care to speak
in his most oblivious husband tone so she wouldn't see how he
strained at the truth, he yawned. "Really? Well, we've got a few
minutes. Just enough time to don a new outfit."

Andie turned and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. She patted her rear end with both hands. "Talk about
unflattering."

He couldn't have agreed more. "You need to get moving if
you're going to change. We need to leave soon."

Andie pivoted away from the mirror and grabbed her purse.
"I can't." She rushed through the bedroom and out into the
hallway.

Blair groaned. By the time he made it through the door, she
was halfway down the stairs. He knew that to say any more would
move dangerously close to explosive grounds, but the ugliness
of the ensemble caused him to take the risk. "Why not?"

"Why not what?" By this time she had reached the bottom
of the stairs and turned to look up at him.

"Why can't you change?"

She shrugged. "Hattie would be upset." She turned and
started walking toward the garage.

Blair jumped over the last three stairs and rushed up beside
her. "Hattie?"

She kept moving.

"What about you?"

When she didn't seem to hear him, he put a hand on her
until she turned. "You've said you don't like the dress. You just
said it's unflattering. Why would you let that woman bully you
into wearing something that you will only feel self-conscious
about?"

Andie's eyes cut toward him, a flash of anger showing. "The
same reason I let everyone around here bully me into doing
things I don't want to do-and not doing the things I do want
to do." She flung open the door to the garage. "Funny how no
one complains until someone else is doing the bullying." She
shoved through the door and disappeared into the garage.

Blair did not follow. He would regret anything he said-better to let it go. He heard the car door slam. Her attitude was
getting old.

He walked into the garage, determined not to say or do anything that would escalate the situation. He could see Andie in
the passenger's seat with her arms folded across her chest and
her head turned away from him.

Why should he take the brunt of her frustration? With everything else going on, to willfully dress in something you hated
seemed ridiculous. He wasn't going to apologize for saying
otherwise.

In fact, he didn't know what more he could apologize for. The
bottle Chad had taken continued to haunt him; he'd be sorry
about that forever. But he'd been a faithful husband and a good
provider all these years. Where was her appreciation? Hey, he'd
only been trying to encourage her to stand up for herself. If she
wanted to wear that sack of rags, so be it.

They rode in silence. Andie kept her head turned toward her
window the entire way, pouting. By the time they pulled into the
parking lot, Blair had never been so happy to see the church.

Andie appeared to share his relief, because she yanked open
the door and jumped from the car. She had no sooner put her
foot on the parking lot than Mattilda Plendor rushed across
the asphalt, a sheath of purple flowing around her. "There you
are. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it." She
looked Andie over with obvious approval. "Doesn't she look
fabulous, Blair?"

Blair couldn't bring himself to lie, so he didn't speak. Only
because his parents had ingrained in him courtesy to women
was he able to offer a polite nod. He hurried away before the
words he really wanted to say found voice.

As he walked away, he heard Mattilda. "Come along, dear. We
want everyone to see this glorious creation." He quickened his pace to avoid being caught in her trap. Why hadn't he feigned
illness this morning? He looked at his watch. Only two more
hours and he'd be on his way to the office. Just two hours.
Surely he could make it.

Melanie drove through downtown Santa Barbara and into the
part of town where old warehouses stood beside shacks and
funky offices for trendy architects and artists. A homeless man
lay napping between the roots of an ancient oak, his shopping
cart parked beside him, a bottle perched between his laced
fingers. She turned left into a narrow street that led between two
rusted storage sheds, then emerged at a huge red warehouse.
This must be the place.

She backed her car into a space at the very edge of the
rapidly filling parking lot. Best to make a quick getaway when
this was over. She took a deep breath and took a moment to
simply observe.

A family walked toward the large warehouse together, talking
and laughing. The woman wore an ankle-length wool skirt, the
man plain jeans.

Melanie glanced down at her khakis, her nicest pair. They
ought to blend in there somewhere. She left the comfort of her
car and pushed forward.

Three sets of glass doors stood propped open. They reminded
her of the mouth of a hungry whale, prepared to swallow a
school of krill. Two people stood before each of these openings,
wearing name tags and directing the tiny fish into the whale's
mouth. Wasn't there a story in the Bible about a whale eating
someone? It was one of the few she knew anything about. The
couple offered greetings and handed some sort of folded paper
to everyone brave enough to pass through. Their strategic placement made it impossible to enter unnoticed.

Melanie stopped walking. If she turned now, maybe she
could make it back to the car without being seen. She disliked
cowardice above almost anything else, though, and besides,
this was for Sarah.