Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (23 page)

But first he planned to pray about it. He'd had enough of trying to do things his own way. Part of moving his life all the way across the country had been to help him on his new mission of doing things God's way. And he wasn't about to forget that now!

“Dad's out there,” Sicily said as Waverly removed the brownies from the oven.

“Out where?”

Sicily pointed out the dining room window. “Out on the bench by the beach.”

“Oh, is Janice with him?” Waverly set the brownies on the stove-top, then went into the dimly lit dining room. She placed a hand on Sicily's shoulder, ready to move her from the window in order to give the couple their privacy.

“No, Dad's alone. And he looks sad.”

Now Waverly leaned forward and peered outside. It was like Sicily had said: there sat Blake, hunched over with his head in his hands—looking as if he'd truly lost his best friend. “Oh.”

“I wonder what's wrong.”

Waverly glanced at the clock. “Well, it's getting late, and Janice was supposed to take me home. How about if you go out and talk to your dad, and I'll run over and see if Janice can run me back into town?”

Sicily nodded, still staring out the window with a concerned expression.

“Thanks for the fun evening,” Waverly told her, “and for sharing your
Pollyanna
movie. I still love it.”

“Me too.”

“And maybe right now your dad needs you to be his little Pollyanna,” Waverly said as she got her bag, “and to give him a big hug too. You think?”

“Yeah, I think you're right.”

Waverly leaned over and kissed the top of Sicily's head. “You are a pure delight.” Then she went out through the laundry-room back door, so she wouldn't disturb Blake and Sicily, cutting around the front of the house, then down the path to her aunt and mother's house. She had no idea what was troubling Blake, but she suspected it had to do with Janice. That in itself was a mystery. Talk about an on-again, off-again relationship. Waverly didn't even want to figure it out.

She'd been completely taken aback when Sicily had called this afternoon to invite Waverly to come stay with her (and watch
Pollyanna)
so that her dad could go on a sailboat trip with Janice. Janice had explained it in a bit more detail when she picked Waverly up. “The whole thing is going to be a surprise for Blake,” she'd bubbled. “He said that he wanted to do a trip like this, and I found this incredible deal online today. Really, the timing couldn't be better. When I told Sicily about it, she came up with the idea to have you come babysit.”

Naturally, Waverly hadn't questioned any of this. She'd promised to come visit (not babysit), and that had been all she planned to do. Still, she had wondered. Perhaps, if truth be told, she'd been a little disappointed. Maybe a lot disappointed. But what could she do?

To her surprise, most of the lights in the house were off, but she saw Janice's car in the driveway, so she knew she was here. She went onto the porch and peered inside. Not seeing anyone about, she decided to try the door and, since it was unlocked, silently let herself in. “Hello?” she called quietly. “Janice?”

“Waverly!” It was her aunt, emerging from the bathroom. She had on her robe and, judging by her odd-shaped mouth, had already taken out her false teeth. “What are you doing here at thith hour of the night?” she lisped.

“Janice was going to give me a ride home.”

Aunt Lou shook her head. “Not tonight, sheeth not. She came home inebriated
again.
You know, for a dry town, there thertainly theems to be a lot of drinking going on.”

Waverly suppressed the urge to burst into laughter, then remembered her predicament. “But I need to get back into town.”

“Take Janice'th car.” Aunt Lou pointed to a large basket on a table by the front door. “There'th key-th.”

“You're certain that's all right?”

Aunt Lou waved her hand in a disgusted sort of way. “I'm going to bed.”

“Thanks.” Waverly looked through the basket until she found a set of car keys with a rhinestone-encrusted
J
dangling from the key ring. That had to be it. Feeling a little like a crook, but excited at the prospect of driving her cousin's hot little sports car, she quietly went back outside. Of course, once she was inside the car, she wondered at the sensibility of this. Oh, she knew how to drive and even had a license, but it had been years, literally years, since she'd been behind the wheel. Still, she assured herself as she turned the key in the ignition, it had to be like riding a bike. And she'd certainly mastered that easily.

She studied the fancy panel and controls as well as the shifting stick, which she thought wasn't an actual stick shift, although she had learned to drive one of those once in Mexico. She fastened her seat belt, put the car in drive, gently touched the accelerator with her toe, then nearly jumped out of her skin when the car shot forward in the circular drive, shooting gravel from the tires. “Whoa, girl,” she said as she tried the brakes. “Remember, slow and easy wins the race.”

Feeling a bit like a grandma, she slowly, very slowly began to drive toward town. Thankfully the traffic was fairly light now and, about a mile from town, she thought she could get used to a sweet little car like this. Not that she ever expected her cousin to let her borrow it again. In fact, she didn't care to think of how Janice would react once she found out about tonight.

Very carefully she turned the car into the tight parking lot behind The Gallery, easing it into the one and only parking spot back there. Feeling satisfied that she'd accomplished her mission, and feeling surprisingly sleepy, she went up to her apartment and began getting ready for bed.

While sitting outside in the moonlight, contemplating his life and God and gazing out over the water, Blake was struck literally speechless when his daughter came up from behind, quietly wrapped her arms around him, and whispered, “I love you, Daddy.”

He couldn't believe it. Almost afraid to move or breathe, and definitely hating to ruin or end this amazing moment, he simply sat there, silent as a stone. Finally he reached up and gently patted her small hands, which continued to rest on his chest. His little girl was back. The sweet, happy child he remembered had been returned to him. Or so he hoped. Now he wished for time to stand still…or to slow down some. Because, more than anything, he wanted to savor this moment.

“I love you too,” he told her in a slightly choked voice. “More than anyone in this world, Sicily, I love you. I hope you always know that.”

“More than
anyone?”
she asked, as if not fully convinced.

“Yes,” he said eagerly. “Absolutely.”

“Even more than Janice?”

“Definitely more than Janice. Way more than Janice. A million zillion times more than Janice.”

“Oh.” Now her hands slipped away, and he feared he had lost this moment after all. “So did something go wrong with Janice?” she asked in a concerned tone. “Did you guys have another fight? Is that why you're so sad?”

He turned around to face her now. “Sad?”

“Yeah.” Her big eyes grew larger in the moonlight. “Waverly and I thought you looked really sad tonight, sitting out here all by yourself.”

He considered this. “No, Sicily, I'm not sad. The truth is, I was just thinking…and praying too.”

She blinked. “Praying?”

“Yeah.” He tried to decide how much to say. “It probably sounds corny, but I was asking God to help me figure out my life.”

She giggled. “Did God tell you what to do?”

He chuckled too. “Not exactly, but I think half of the solution lies in the asking.”

“Huh?”

“I guess I'm trying to say that when we take time to be with God, when we remember to ask Him to guide us, well, it's like we're finally in a place where we're ready to listen. It's like we're trying to tune in to Him. Because, if you think about it, why would you ask for something if you weren't willing to listen? Does that make sense?”

“Sort of.” She had a thoughtful look now. “Is it like when you want to talk to me, and you keep saying all this stuff I'm not interested in, stuff that's pretty boring? And then finally you say something that gets my attention and makes me want to listen? Kind of like that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think it's similar to that. Like, what's the point of having a conversation with someone who isn't even listening to you? Why not save your breath? Right?”

“Right.” She smiled. “And you should remember that next time you want to talk to me.”

He laughed. “I'll try to remember that. But don't forget, I'm not God. I'm just a regular dude who needs some help being a dad sometimes—to be honest, most of the time.”

“Yeah, but at least you're getting better at it.”

“Really? Am I?” He could hardly believe his ears.

“But don't worry, you still have a long ways to go.”

“Oh, good, I didn't want to be accused of being too perfect.”

“I was worried I was the one who made you sad,” she said quietly. “I know I haven't been very nice to you lately. I'm sorry.”

“I understand, Sicily. It was probably selfish of me to drag you out here to Martha's Vineyard.”

“But I like it now.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“And I'm glad you're not sad.” She laughed. “It's like we're playing the glad game, huh?”

“It is.” He stood now and, taking her hand in his, began walking her back toward the house. “And I'm glad not to be sad too. In fact, I was feeling pretty happy this evening.”

“What about?”

He didn't want to say too much yet. So much of this felt new to him. But he did want to be honest with her. “I was happy knowing that you're my daughter, Sicily, and that you haven't given up on me yet. And I was also happy to know that you've made a good friend in Waverly.” They were in the house now, and it smelled delicious. “Speaking of Waverly,” he continued, “where is she? We need to give her a ride home before it gets too late.” He looked around expectantly.

“No, that's okay, Dad. We don't have to give her a ride.”

He was puzzled. “Huh?”

“Janice will take her home.”

“Janice?”
He studied Sicily closely.

“Yeah. Waverly went next door to get a ride with her.”

He slapped his forehead now. “Oh, no!”

“Oh, no, what?” she demanded.

“How long ago did Waverly leave?” he asked.

“I…uh…I don't know. Before I went—”

“Come on, Sis.” He grabbed the flashlight by the door. “Let's go stop her.”

“Stop who from what?” Sicily ran to catch up with him.

“Stop Waverly from letting Janice drive her anywhere.”

“Why, Dad?” She was right on his heels as they both ran fast, with the flashlight beam bobbing up and down on the trail in front of them.

He stopped and turned toward her. “Because Janice is drunk.”

“Oh, no!” Now Sicily took off running, passing him and racing toward the house.

But when he saw the driveway, he knew they were too late. Janice's car was already gone.

“Maybe Waverly's not with Janice,” Sicily said breathlessly. “Maybe Janice drove somewhere by herself, and Waverly is still—”

“You could be right.” Now Blake approached the porch.

“Hello?” called a woman's voice.

“Vivian!” Sicily exclaimed as she ran up the steps. “Is Waverly with you?”

“No.” Vivian shook her head.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Blake said.

“I'm not disturbed.” She held up a mug. “Just having some herbal tea to help me sleep better.”

“So I assume Janice did drive Waverly home then?”

Vivian shrugged. “Janice's car isn't here. Was that the plan?”