Saturday Morning (48 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #Christian, #General

BOOK: Saturday Morning
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Clarice laughed. “That’s okay with me.”

“Julia?” Hope prompted.

“Just that Cyndy comes back … and stays.”

“Andy?”

Andy told them how much better everything had been between her and Martin since their last prayer meeting. “Getting all that off my chest did me a world of good. So I’d like for everyone to pray that it continues. But before we pray, I need to ask your opinion on something.” She told them her situation in as few words as possible. “I want to pray for help in telling Martin that I want to go home and that I want him to come with me. I thought I’d wait until after we get there to tell him about the property. I need to walk the land. It has to feel a certain way … ” She waved her hand in front of her face, as if to say that she knew she was being silly.

Julia stretched out her arm and pretended to be holding something in her fist. “We understand, Scarlett. We surely do understand.”

Andy burst out laughing.

Hope set her mug on the counter. “My prayers are for the coming
auction—that God brings about some kind of miracle so we have a new home for J House. And if, at the same time, we need a new vision for our work, that He will please show us what He wants.”

“It’s not like we’re asking for much, is it? Clarice studied the tea in her mug. “I think it’s easier to pray for world peace.”

“So let us pray,” Hope said. “And let’s remember that He is right here with His arms around us.”

After the prayers, the Girl Squad talked at length about how Andy should talk to Martin in a positive way. It was Julia who suggested that she start off by telling him she was going back to Medford—in the kindest possible way—but also in a way that didn’t ask permission. She gave a couple of examples, which Andy committed to memory.

On her way home, she called Martin’s doctor and got an okay for him to travel.

Martin was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at his computer screen, when she went up the stairs.

“Hi, honey. What are you doing?”

“Just fooling around on the Internet.”

She put her purse away and sat down across from him. “Martin, something concerns me.”

He watched her, seeming a bit wary, but nodded.

Here we go.
“You seem different since Brad was here. Is everything all right?”

He half shrugged.

“Do you miss going into the office?”

“Not really. I didn’t do it long enough to get accustomed to it.”

“Do you miss traveling?”

“No, not at all.” He closed down his computer.

Was he closing the door on talking to her, too? She waited for him to get up, but when he didn’t, she took that as a sign to continue.
“Martin, Mom called yesterday. I need to go home for a week or so. I have things there that need my attention. I called your doctor, and he said you can go with me as long as we go by car, bus, or train. He doesn’t want you flying yet, or driving.” She leaned forward. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand, and I’ll find someone to look in on you. Maybe someone from J House, or a home nurse.” His brows drew together in a frown. “I have to be back here before the fifteenth. That’s the day J House goes up for auction, and Hope needs my support.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “I’d love it if you’d go to Medford with me.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “It would be nice to get out of here,” he said, to her great surprise. “I think I now know how a caged animal feels. Maybe we could stop at Granzella’s on the way and get real hamburgers and milk shakes. You know that place in Willows we liked so much.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, all right. You can have the hamburger and milk shake, and I’ll eat a salad.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. He was not only saying he would go, he was saying he’d enjoy going. “I’m sure we could,” she said, wanting to keep him excited. “It’s normally about an eight-hour drive, maybe ten with walk stops. We could drive it in one day, or spend the night in Dunsmuir. Might be fun to stay in one of the cabooses there.”

“What about Fluffy?”

Andy had forgotten about Fluffy. “I’ll ask Julia to pet-sit. I’m sure she’d be delighted to get out of that hotel for a few days and enjoy the comforts of a home.”

For nearly an hour after that, in answer to Martin’s questions, Andy talked about the Girl Squad and what had brought each of them to J House. Martin seemed truly surprised when she told him
that Julia was a family-law attorney and that Clarice had been a wealthy woman before Gregor had fleeced her out of her money.

She told him about Hope and Roger, their history, their present, and about their coming miracle baby. By the time she finished, he knew nearly as much about J House and the women who worked there as she did.

“They’re like a second family,” she told him. “I was wrong in thinking there wasn’t anything about San Francisco that I’d like. I love J House. And I love the Girl Squad and Celia.”

“Celia of the two-inch-long-frosted-purple fingernails?”

“That’s the one. She’s a mainstay at J House.”

“Home, sweet home.” Andy drove up the long dirt drive and mentally kissed every row of lavender and blooming chrysanthemums they passed. It felt like she’d been gone for years rather than weeks. Everything looked exactly the same, wonderfully the same.
I praise You, Lord, for making such a beautiful place.
These days she worked really hard at remembering to praise God not only for the good things, but the bad things, everything—just like Hope preached.

“I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it is,” Martin said, turning to give her a smile.

“I don’t think I could ever forget.”

It was barely noon when they pulled up to their house. Comet came from behind the house barking. When Martin opened the door and got out, the Border collie started yipping with excitement.

“Hey there, you,” Martin said, patting the dog’s head.

“I think she’s missed you.”

Martin laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Good girl. Good girl. I missed you too.”

Andy searched the yard and saw Chai Lai watching her from her
chair on the front porch. Unlike Comet, Chai Lai was far too refined to come running. Instead, she got up, yawned, stretched, then jumped down to sit on the step and wait for Andy to come to her.

“Hello there, sweet cat,” Andy said as she picked her up. “Did you miss me?” Tears filled Andy’s eyes when the cat touched her face ever so lightly with her paw.

“Hey, Mom!” Andy called when she saw her mother coming toward her. “You look great.”

Alice held her arms open to her daughter. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re home.” Andy went into her arms and hugged her mother tightly. “You, too, Martin,” Alice said, waving Martin over and taking him into her embrace as well. “You gave us all quite a scare.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Walking the fields.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what he likes to do. He loves those plants as much as you do. They’re his babies.” She took Andy’s hand. “Go on now. You two get settled. I’m going to fix us a nice salad for lunch. Be at the house at one.”

Andy nodded, then watched her mother walk away, as graceful as ever.

Martin opened the trunk and took out two small suitcases. They’d just packed enough for the night they’d spent on the road, since they both still had clothes here. “I’ll take these in,” he said, pulling up the handles and wheeling them to the front entry.

Andy stopped in the middle of her family room. She’d never been away from Lavender Meadows more than a few days, so coming home felt extra comforting. She gave it the once-over like a nosy visitor, checking, inspecting, and criticizing. This piece of furniture was out of date, that doodad didn’t fit the decor, the edge of the chair cushion was frayed.

For all its many flaws, it was home, and she wouldn’t change a thing. She loved it just the way it was. She let out a sigh at the thought of having to leave it again. How long before she would be back this time?

Not long, she promised herself. Christmas was coming. Once Martin was back to work, she could come back here to work.

“I’ll take those,” she told Martin, indicating the suitcases. “Why don’t you take a nap until lunch? I’ll bet you’re tired.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “I could use one.”

She unpacked slowly and let herself enjoy putting each item away in its proper place. By the time she was done, it was almost one. She turned to find Martin watching her.

“I forgot how comfortable this bed is. I slept like a baby.”

“Good, but you’d better rise and shine. We don’t want to be late for lunch. You know how grumpy Dad gets if he has to wait.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The way he said it, she knew he was referring to a time, prior to their getting married, when he’d shown up for dinner at her parents’ house fifteen minutes late. Her dad had sat him down and given him a lecture about manners and had embarrassed her to tears.

Since then, Martin had never been late. Nor early either. He’d always been right on time.

They sat around an old-fashioned farm table—a solid piece of oak two inches thick. It had come from a tree near the front of the property, struck down by lightning over eighty years ago. The table had been the center of family life for three generations, and now was Alice’s one prized possession.

Over coffee and Alice’s famed apple crisp, Walt asked about Martin’s heart attack.

Martin gave them the details as he knew them. “I guess I’m lucky
to have survived.” He turned toward Andy. “I shouldn’t have kept my condition from you. I’m sorry. I was wrong not to have told you.”

His admission took Andy by surprise. His gaze met hers across the table. “You saved my life. I don’t have the words to tell you how grateful I am.”

Andy couldn’t have forced words past the lump in her throat if she’d tried. So she nodded and sniffed.
Thank you, Jesus. Praise be to God—I mean You, Big Dad.

Walt cleared his throat. “Ya darn fool. You shoulda told her.”

“Walter!” Alice scolded. “You hush now. It’s none of your business. You didn’t tell me when you fell in the creek and hurt your back.”

He ducked his chin and studied the coffee left in his cup. “That’s different.”

Alice shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”

Andy interrupted before her parents could take their bantering to the next level. “The doctor put Martin on an exercise regimen and told him he’ll have to make some lifestyle changes.”

“What kind of changes?” Walt wanted to know.

Andy was all ears. She wanted to know too, because whatever he did usually affected her.

“Some of the changes were made
for
me. I won’t be traveling any more, and—”

Andy cut in. “I thought you still had some training to do.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. When I had the heart attack, they put someone else on it.”

Andy started to open her mouth and say something about not being indispensable, but she stopped herself. If she was reading his expression right, he already knew.
A miracle, Lord. Thank You, thank You, thank You.

“So what’s this new job of yours all about? Andy tells me you have a big fancy office and a secretary … ”

Andy thought Martin looked almost embarrassed. Didn’t he know she talked to her parents about him and his job? Didn’t he know she was proud of his accomplishments?

“They made me senior vice president of national sales. I have twelve men under me, doing what I’ve been doing all these years—traveling from city to city, from company to company.” He looked down at his plate. “If my boss has his way, I’ll have twelve more by the middle of February.”

Andy’s jaw dropped. “Honey, you didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know until the other day when Brad came to the house.”

She eyed him with concern. “That’s twice as much responsibility as you have now. Will you have an assistant to share the load?”

“No.” He took a bite of his dessert. “This is great. Just what the doctor ordered.”

The conversation veered away from Martin to Andy. She told her parents about J House and the Girl Squad. “I have to be back in San Francisco on the fourteenth for the auction.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Martin said, stopping the conversation. He turned to Andy. “That day Brad was at the house, I told him about J House.” At Andy’s perplexed expression, he added, “AES is looking to diversify its holdings. Brad told me he’d take a look at the place and see if it had any potential.”

Today was one surprise after another with Martin. What would he tell her next?

“I saw Brad and two other men the other day when I went to J House. I was waiting to make the turn, and he passed me in a black Lincoln. I recognized him and waved, but either he didn’t see me or he was ignoring me.”

“They were probably scoping out the place.”

“What would they do with it if they bought it?”

“Condos, maybe. I’m not involved in that facet of the company.”

“Will they be at the auction?”

“I don’t know. I’m just the messenger.”

Andy sat back in her chair and nodded, but all the while her thoughts went reeling off in various directions.
Martin is only the messenger.
Something, she wasn’t sure what, was happening here.
What are we doing Lord? What are You trying to tell me?

Later that afternoon, while Martin was checking with his secretary, Andy and her parents walked over to Mr. McCauley’s farm and got a quick tour of the house and the more recently built detached garage.

“If you decide to take it,” Mr. McCauley said, “then part of the deal is that you don’t tear down the house. The house has history, know what I mean? Your grandfather and the people who built it were probably friends. Or enemies. Who knows?” He turned and pointed to the front porch. “They don’t make fretwork like that anymore. It’s a lost art.”

Andy agreed. “It’s a beautiful house,” she said, looking at it and thinking how cute it would look painted in shades of lavender, the fretwork white. She could just see a cottage-style sign out front near the road that said “Lavender Meadows.”

While her parents and the McCauleys talked, Andy walked over to the small garden next to the house. Remnants of spring and summer vegetables lay forgotten. She bent down and scooped up a handful of dirt and rubbed it between her thumb and her fingers. Then she brought it close and smelled it. There was nothing like the smell of good, rich soil.

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