Kaleidoscope Eyes (22 page)

He knew she was talking about more than the remodel, but he didn’t want to get into that. Sure, Amos was a nice guy And yes, he treated Jed’s mother like she was precious to him. But did that make breaking up your family right?

They aren’t exactly the ones who broke up the family, Jed.

He ignored that. Instead he let his gaze rest on the Bible sitting nearby on the coffee table. “Some things never change, Mom.”

She knew what he was saying. He could see it in her eyes. And though there was a tinge of disappointment there, he also saw a depth of love. “Oh, my sweet boy. Don’t you understand? ‘Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.’”

His mouth twitched.
“Measure for Measure.
Act 1, scene 4. Subtle, Mom. Real subtle.”

“Why, Ernest Jediah—” her wide, wondering eyes would have done any two-year-old proud—“I cannot fathom what you mean.”

“Uh-huh. Fine. So long as you realize ‘I am not bound to please thee with my answers.’”

“Merchant of Venice.
Act 4, scene 1.” She pressed her lips together, acute and loving anxiety in those clear eyes of hers. “‘If you go on thus, you will kill yourself: and ’tis not wisdom
thus to second grief against yourself.’”

Torn between the familiar fun of their game and his equally familiar resistance to the message underlying her words, Jed laid his hand over hers. “‘I pray thee, cease thy counsel, which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.’”

“Much Ado about Nothing.”
she whispered, and he nodded.

“Act 5, Scene 1.” She plucked at the couch cushion, her inner struggle playing out on her delicate features.

Jed wished he could assuage her worry, but only one thing would do that. And as much as he loved his mother, as precious as she was to him, he could not profess a faith he no longer embraced.

After a moment, she turned her hand, weaving her fingers with his. “I don’t mean to push you, Jediah.”

“I know, Mom. I know you’re just worried about me.”

“I am. I don’t know how anyone deals with struggles, with pain, without God. I know the difference it makes to have Him there, to feel His strength and grace, even when I don’t deserve it. Especially when I don’t deserve it.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to promise he’d be open, that he’d take another look at God, seriously consider if he was wrong. But he couldn’t make the words come.

He’d lied too much already. He wasn’t going to lie to his mother as well.

When she finally broke the silence that had fallen between them, it was with a soft whisper. “I know I can’t make you believe. That faith is something you have to find within yourself. Just don’t be upset with me for hoping it happens sooner rather than later.”

Jed let out a soft sigh. “And don’t you be upset when I don’t need belief the way you do.”

The smile that touched her lips was both loving and sad. “‘Fools must eat the bitter fruit of living their own way. They must experience the full terror of the path they have chosen. For they turn away from wisdom—to death. They are fools, and their own complacency will destroy them.’”

Jed’s mind churned. It had been years since she’d stumped
him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall ever hearing those words. He tugged at her hand. “Okay, you got me this time. I haven’t got a clue which play that’s from.”

A hint of pink kissed her cheeks. “That’s because I cheated, sweetheart.”

“You? Madame Teacher of the Year? Cheated? Okay, so give it up. Where’s the quote fro—” His gaze drifted past her to the Bible on the coffee table. “Ah. Let me guess.”

“Proverbs 1:30-32. Sort of.”

He gaped at her, and she laughed, holding her hands up. “I know, I know, I’m the one who always told you don’t quote someone unless you can do it with precision. But in this particular case—” she laid her hand on his cheek—“application mattered more.”

He patted her hand where it rested on his face. “I’m just glad you didn’t really stump me.”

“Of course I didn’t.” She lowered her hand to her lap. “Silly boy You were the best student I had in thirty years of teaching Shakespearean studies.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “Only because you were a wonderful teacher, Mother mine. No one could make Shakespeare come to life the way you did.”

She offered a tremulous smile, then drew a steadying breath. “All right, then. On to other things. You just sit back there, relax, and tell me everything. What’s my only son been up to these last ten months, and when will I get my grandbabies?”

“Mom!”

Her eyes twinkled. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. You’re absolutely right. That was inappropriate. What I meant was, when will I get a daughter-in-law?”

“Mother!”

“Well, I’m sorry, Jediah, but you’re not getting any younger. Nor, for that matter, am I.”

“Ha. You’re just as young and beautiful as you always were.” And she was. To him.

“Please, just tell me your job isn’t the only thing in your life. Surely there’s a woman out there somewhere who interests you.”

He hesitated and knew immediately it was a tactical error. His mother clapped her hands and scooted closer. “Who is she?”

“No one.” He scooted back. “I mean, not really. She’s just … someone I know for the show.”

“Someone pretty?”

“Pretty enough.” More than that, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of saying so.

“And she likes you?”

Jed prayed the heat flooding his face was just an internal thing, but he should have known better.

His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Ernest Jediah, are you blushing?”

“What?” He shifted, looked away “No. Shoot, no. I don’t blush.”

“Mmmm.” His mom pursed her lips, then stood and headed toward the kitchen. Jed jumped up and followed her.

“Where are you going all of a sudden.”

“To get sustenance.” She blinked her eyes at him over her shoulder. “I have a feeling this is going to be quite a tale.”

Jed followed his mother’s bustling form. Quite a tale. Yes, that was fair. Trouble was, the ending wasn’t finished. True, he had done everything he could to make Annie like him, to earn her trust. Trouble was, it was taking more than he’d expected. More effort. More time.

More of himself.

And with each passing day, it got harder to keep going. Especially when Annie looked at him with those clear eyes. Eyes so full of warmth and trust.

Trust he didn’t deserve.

Trust, he feared more and more each day, he would lose when she found out who—and what—he really was.

TWENTY-ONE        

N
ormally Andy hated waiting. For anything.

But most especially for coffee.

Today, though, it felt good to just stand here. To inch forward behind the other devotees. His order perched on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be set free.

He drew deep the fragrance that was distinctive Starbucks, then, thus consoled, looked around him.

How could a town this size have one—O-N-E—Starbucks? It’s not like there weren’t coffee huts on almost every corner of this Podunk town. Dutch Bros. Human Bean. Great Awakenings. Safari. You couldn’t turn around without running into another coffee stand. But Andy was a Starbucks man, and nothing less would do. So he’d hit the road. Jed had the car, so that left him afoot, but he hadn’t worried. Not a bit.

This was Starbucks he was lookin’ for. Had to be half a dozen of them within walking distance.

Or not.

He’d been walking for what seemed like miles when he finally saw it. Paradise. Well, okay, Barnes and Noble, but he knew—where Barnes and Noble resided, Starbucks couldn’t be far behind. Sure enough, his perseverance paid off, and Andy pushed the doors open and walked with new reverence to join the others in line.

The woman in front of him fidgeted. Stepped to the side. Then back in line. Then to the other side. Andy was just about to ask if she was okay when she turned to offer him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I don’t like being in crowds. But Starbucks is worth the trauma, huh?”

“Erk!”

What he’d intended to say was “Absolutely. So glad to be here. Can’t wait for the coffee.” But what came out was vastly different. One choked sound.
Erk.
That, and nothing more.

Because there, standing right in front of him, was Annie Justice. In living color.

Stunning, arresting color.

Andy coughed. Choked. And coughed some more.

Concern drew her brows together. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.” He cleared his throat. “Oh yeah. Yes, I’m fine, Really Just—” He turned from those wide hazel eyes to stare at the wall. “Hoo! Yeah. I’m just glad to be here.” He looked at her, managing what he hoped was a fair facsimile of a smile. “You know.
Here.”

Annie’s giggle flowed over him, like silver bells tinkling out merriment. “I understand. I’ve had mornings like that.” Humor arched one brow. “You just may be even more desperate than I am this morning. Would you like to go in front of me?”

Andy waved aside the offer. “Nah, I wouldn’t want you to have to be surrounded by people any longer than necessary. It won’t take long.”

It better not, anyway. Because if it did, he’d make himself crazy with the thoughts racing through his head.

I shouldn’t be talking to her! What if she remembers me from the dog park? No, wait. She didn’t see me there. Okay; good. But wait.
What if Jed’s idiotic plan actually works? Then when she sees me when I come to film the show; she remembers me? Puts two and two together? Figures out what a lying dog Jed really is … ?

“May I take your order?”

Andy jumped and looked around. He was at the counter. Annie was nowhere to be seen. He stuttered out his order, then glanced around again.

Annie was just pushing the door open to head outside. She looked back at him and waved.

Andy’s hand, lifted as if of its own volition.
Stop that! Put your hand down. You want to make her remember you?

“Sir?”

He jerked to face the girl at the register. “What?”

“You … need to pay for your coffee, sir.”

“Oh. Right.” He pulled his wallet out, dumping money on the counter. “What did I order?”

“A mocha breve, double shot, with extra whipped cream.” Andy glanced back at the doorway “Better make that a double.”

“Sir? Double what?”

He grabbed a ten and handed it to her. “Everything. Caffeine. Syrup. Whipped cream. Just pile it on.” He grabbed the ten back from her and handed her the credit card Jed had given him for unexpected expenses. “And put it on this card.”

Jed would yelp, but that was tough. He owed Andy.

Big time.

“Are you listening to me?”

Jed was stretched out on his bed, flipping through the TV channels. “Sure. You met Annie. You freaked out. You drank coffee.” He studied Andy, who was parked on the very edge of his bed, foot tapping out a rapid-fire rhythm on the floor. “Lots of it.”

“She’s a nice lady, Jed.”

“Yes, she is.”

“And what you’re doing still doesn’t bother you?”

“No, Andy. It doesn’t.”

Andy stood and paced. After the third time of him blocking the screen, Jed punched the power button and tossed the remote aside. It was like trying to watch TV through one of those carnival games where you shot the ducks swimming back and forth.

“You realize we’re running out of time, right? We’ve got to start filming soon if we’re going to have all the footage we need. I mean, we’ve got to get shots of her doing everyday stuff as well as on a search or during training—”

“Say that again.” Jed sat up.

“What?”

“That’s it!”

“What’s
it?”

Now it was his turn to stand and pace. “Tomorrow we go back to the airport—”

Relief flooded Andy. “Oh, thank heaven. I can’t believe you’re actually going to listen to me for once.”

“—and rent a car for you.”

Andy’s relief melted into confusion. “Am I driving somewhere?”

“You’re driving everywhere. Everywhere that Annie goes.” He slapped Andy on the shoulder. “You’re going to follow her and film her. Doing everyday stuff.”

“Without her permission?”

Jed waved the concern away. “That’s in the bag.”

“What bag? Where?”

“Just trust me on this. Get out there and get some everyday footage. That way it’ll be ready to go when Annie finally signs on the dotted line.”

Andy stood still and crossed his arms. “I think you’ve gone totally crazy, my friend.”

“Yeah? Well, they thought Da Vinci was crazy too.”

“Da Vinci was an artist.”

“And what would you call me?”

Andy didn’t miss a beat. “A liar.” He held up one hand,
ticking off the words on his fingers. “Make that a sneak, a fake, a deceiver,
and
a liar.”