A Promise to Remember (16 page)

Andie looked at the mountain of shopping bags at her feet.
She shook her head and turned toward Christi. "Thanks for
coming with me. I would never have been able to carry this
alone."

Christi guffawed. "Are you kidding? A chance to get away
from my in-laws and come to Saks? My kind of Sunday afternoon errand. Scott's been on my case to watch my spending there,
but when I told him why we were going, even Mr. big-shot attorney couldn't come up with a rebuttal."

Andie laughed as she put one shopping bag under her right
arm and picked up two more with her hands. Christi did the
same and, as they walked out the door, she whispered, "Still, I
hope he doesn't drive down State Street right about now. He'd
have a coronary if he saw me with all this."

"Why? None of it's yours."

"By the time he remembered that, he'd be hooked to a ventilator at Cottage Hospital and our spring trip to New York would
have to be canceled."

"Honestly, Christi."

"What?"

"The way you worded that. It sounded like you're more concerned about the trip to NewYork than Scott's life."Andie was teasing, but there was more than a little truth behind the words.

Christi shifted the bags in her hands. "Said I hoped he didn't
drive down the street, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"See, I thought of him first."

Andie laughed. It actually felt good, although she knew the
guilt would come later. But it was fun to tease Christi, and besides that, she had accomplished something worthwhile today
The bags she carried were filled with over a thousand dollars'
worth of donated merchandise. They would bring in lots of
money at tomorrow's luncheon and silent auction for the Cancer Center.

She could work behind the scenes and still make a difference. Trouble still loomed about the Fair, but they wouldn't stop
her from doing other things. And it was impossible not to like
a day as pleasant and beautiful as this one. Andie swung her purchases a bit and looked around her. Life sometimes stole up
on her with a reminder that not everything was misery.

She stopped.

There, across the street. A woman stood in the doorway of an
office building. She remained stone still, staring at Andie.

It took only a fraction of a second before Andie realized who
it was. She gasped and stopped walking. She willed her feet
to move, her eyes to look somewhere else, but they would not
obey. Even the wind seemed to blow harder, as if to push her
forward and away from here.

"Are you coming or what?"

Andie could not answer, nor even acknowledge Christi's question. She could only continue to stare across the street at the
hatred blazing from the woman's face.

"It's her, isn't it?" Christi's voice dripped disgust.

The bags in Andie's hands grew heavy as stones. She realized how this must look-like she was out having a great time
shopping and spending money. Shame and embarrassment returned as quickly as the breeze that now snapped cold instead
of pleasant, and bitter ache snagged her heart. How could she
have forgotten Chad so quickly? How could she have been
caught laughing on the street?

Christi rushed forward in typical Christi form. She went to
the very edge of the curb and cupped her hands around her
mouth. "Hey. What are you staring at?" Her voice echoed down
the city block, bouncing off buildings and pinging off cars.

Even from this distance, Andie could see the woman's face
flare red with embarrassment-or anger. Melanie Johnston
turned and disappeared around the side of the building.

Andie breathed a sigh of relief and started walking again.
Only then did she notice how many people had stopped to
gawk at the scene Christi had created. She felt her face grow hot, but Christi walked on without seeming to notice the stares
all around them.

She turned back toward Andie. "What a coward. How dare
she stand there and try to intimidate you. Was she following
you? Something needs to be done about her."

Jake coasted his motorcycle to a stop. He looked around the
parking lot. No sign of Melanie's blue Civic. Good. His plan to
beat her there had worked.

He pushed open the door and stood at the sign requesting
he wait for the hostess. At three o'clock on Sunday afternoon,
the restaurant was practically deserted. A full minute later, Jake
still stood at the sign, wondering if the hostess had decided to
take a midday nap.

A door behind the counter swung open. A short, tired-looking
woman approached. "Sorry. Didn't see ya out here. One for
dinner?"

"Uh ... actually there will be two. Just for coffee." Why did he
add that last part? This woman didn't care what he ordered.
She looked over his shoulder toward the parking lot and raised
an eyebrow. "Blind date?"

Jake didn't answer. He'd already said too much.

"Right this way." She grabbed a couple of menus and led him
to the nearest booth.

"Would it be possible for us to sit a little farther back? Somewhere with a little more privacy?"

She nodded, her eyes gleaming with a knowing look.

"It's none" Jake started, a rush of anger and frustration
surging at this woman who wouldn't mind her own business
but then immediately regretted it. He wanted so much to live
with the love of Christ evident in his life, but he always seemed
to fail. His temper fought him at every turn. "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to snap at you."

The woman shrugged and escorted him to a corner booth.
"Just trying to have a little fun." She placed a menu before him
and another across the table. "Your waitress will be right with
you." She walked away without further comment.

Jake could see out the window from his seat and knew the
minute Melanie's faded blue Honda pulled into the lot. She sat
in the car for a moment, as if gathering her wits about herself.
Jake understood.

This entire situation was so emotionally charged it filled him
full of fear. Fear that his quick mouth would make its presence
known, fear that she would sense his idiotic attraction to her.
Most of all, he feared he would do something so stupid she'd
be forever turned away from God.

What was it she feared?

He watched her climb from her car and walk inside. The
hostess approached her. A few quiet words were exchanged and
she led her back to his table. "Here you go, hon. Enjoy your
meal." She cut a glaring look at him, then walked away.

"You're not going to believe what I saw today" Melanie's face
was flushed and her usual matter-of-fact manner had been replaced by an anger-fueled rawness Jake had not seen before.

"What did you" Before he had a chance to finish the question, the waitress arrived at their table.

Melanie turned her face away from the woman. "Coffee,
please, with cream."

Jake smiled, sensing the woman's irritation at having to work
for such a small order. "Same. Oh, and maybe a piece of apple
pie."

The waitress nodded her approval and lumbered away.

Jake turned his attention back to Melanie. She glared at the
wall as if she might hit it. "Okay, what did you see?"

"I was just downtown at my lawyer's office. I walked out the
door, and there, on the other side of the street, was Andie Phelps
and another woman. They were both loaded up with bags from
Saks Fifth Avenue, walking down the street laughing. Can you
believe that?"

"Why wouldn't l?" In truth, Jake felt his hackles rise, but he
didn't want to assume Melanie's thoughts were the same as his.
He wanted to hear it in her own words. "Did it bother you that
they were laughing, or that they had been shopping at Saks?"

"Neither." She put both hands on the table. "Both." She turned
angry eyes on Jake. "Didn't her son mean anything to her? Can
you believe she's out socializing, spending money on a bunch
of high-priced stuff, when her son just killed my boy?"

The waitress plopped two steaming mugs on the table, then
produced a bowl of individual-sized creamers. "I'll be right back
with your pie."

Jake waited until she walked out of earshot. "Appearances
can be deceiving, Melanie. You know that. I see the brave front
you try to put on. You pretend like you are doing fine-especially whenever Sarah is around." He swirled some cream into
his coffee.

"Maybe. But you don't see me out shopping."

"Here's your pie." The waitress set it on the table, winked at
Jake, and pushed back into the kitchen.

Jake put his hand over Melanie's. The softness of her skin
against the roughness of his palm felt so comforting. "That's not
the lifestyle you have. Don't judge because it's hers."

She pulled her hand back, leaving a cold emptiness
behind.

He wanted to make her understand his point. "When I'm
really upset about something, I start designing something in
my garage. It sort of keeps me too busy to think about the real
problem. In this case, that other mother lives in a different
world than you and me. Maybe her self-medication is to go
shopping."

"She should at least be out doing something to help other
people. Instead, she's wasting a bunch of money on nothing."
For the most part, Jake agreed. Still, he couldn't stop the

urge to continue his course of thought. "If there's one thing I've
learned over the years, it's that I can't judge another person by
my situation. Perhaps it would be better if she was out doing
charity work, but wouldn't you like to find the quickest, easiest
way to ease your pain?"

Melanie didn't answer. Jake took a sip of his coffee.

She looked at him, her face a little less flushed. "You didn't
stir that."

Jake smiled. "I like it shaken, not stirred."

She laughed. "You've watched a few too many James Bond
flicks in your time."

"Maybe." He took a deep, steadying breath. "I saw you at
church this morning."

Her eyes opened a little wider. It intensified the copper sparks
in the brown of her irises. "You did? I didn't see you."

"That's because you were surrounded by people the entire
time. What did you think?"

"It was ... interesting."

"I think you were very brave coming back a second time."

"I must say I've been pleasantly surprised."

"I'm not going to tell you that you won't ever hear an unkind word spoken there, because it's not the truth. We're all human and full of faults. But I can tell you that everybody there
knows you're in pain. They all wish they could do something
to help."

She took a sip of her coffee and made an almost imperceptible face.

Time to lighten the subject. "Tell me again why we had to
meet here instead of a coffee shop?"

"Because I'm not going to pay four dollars for a swallow of
coffee, no matter how good it tastes, and I don't want to sit in
the same room with a bunch of people who will."

He liked this side of her. "You don't have much patience with
pretension, do you?"

"None. You know, that pie looks pretty good." She started to
raise a hand to beckon the waitress, but Jake stopped her and
split his piece, which he'd barely touched, in half.

"My treat."

Melanie gave him a look he couldn't hope to interpret-suspicion, gratefulness, exhaustion all seemed mixed up in it-before
stabbing a bite for herself.

They finished the rest in silence, and Jake thought how tiring
it must be for her. Not just the grief but the anger. He remembered what that used to be like. When the fight left you it felt
like you could sleep for days.

After another five minutes or so Melanie balled up her napkin
and stood. "Thanks for the coffee, Jake."

"Any time. I'll walk you to your car."

She moved quickly away from the table, and Jake knew if
he paid the bill and stayed until he got his change, she'd be
gone. So he waited until she had her back turned, then tossed
a ten-dollar bill on the table. He took care that she didn't see
it. He didn't want her to know he'd just paid four dollars for a
cup of plain coffee.

Outside she stood with her face raised to the sun. When she
heard him, she pointed toward the cycle he'd brought out for
a ride. "Is that yours?"

"A client's. I can't afford my own work."

Her eyes lingered on the bike in a way that told Jake she'd
ridden before. "So," he said, "you want to see how the other
half rides?"