The Storm (Fairhope) (34 page)

AFTER ANTICIPATING MAMA’S secret recipe shrimp and corn chowder all day long, our family’s Christmas Eve dinner finally arrived. As tradition ordered, I whipped up my famous (or at least I liked to think so) homemade millionaire pie and baked parmesan spinach dip to add to the feast. Daniel and Jessica would contribute her delicious corn casserole, and the five million calories that came with it for free.

The tradition of gathering on Christmas Eve to enjoy a candlelit family dinner and join our neighbors for a night of caroling was not an option for our bunch.
Everyone
was expected to show, rain or shine. I rationalized that my not-so-great voice would be drowned out among the chorus of carolers around me. Daniel thought himself too cool for the neighborhood night of caroling until Jessica knocked the ground out from under him, the beauty queen obsessed with Christmas
and
blessed with the voice of an angel. She had him wrapped around her finger to the point he was bellowing out “Jingle Bells” with no shame.

“Jana, Andrew!” Mama shrieked as she greeted us, flinging open the double doors. She was decking the halls in her decade-old Santa Claus hat. Her silly accessories humiliated me as a teenager, but now I found them amusing. “Where’s my baby girl?”

Calla cooed and stretched her tiny hands out to Mama. Mama whisked her up, and she promptly grabbed the worn white ball at the tip of her Santa hat and tossed it on the brick floor, giggling with delight.

“I think she’s trying to say that you need a new one,” I teased, winking at Andrew as he chuckled. I unbuttoned my wool coat and handed it to Daddy to place on the coat rack. “How is everyone?”

“Ready to eat!” Daddy responded in his booming voice, enthusiastically rubbing his round belly. “Santa Claus needs to fuel up. Caroling starts in an hour, so we better get to it.”

I uncovered my Wilton Armetale dishes—my special set reserved for parties and holiday functions—and placed them in their respective places on the dining table as Mama set a bowl of steaming chowder on each placemat. A comfortable feeling of deja vu overwhelmed me as scenes from past Christmases flooded my thoughts … my first car, Daniel proposing to Jessica, Mama saving a patient’s life…

After Daddy prayed, Daniel piped up. “We have an announcement.” He was holding Jessica’s hand, whose eyes misted over.

“What?”

“What is it?”

“Are you…?”

“I’m twelve weeks pregnant!” Tears streaked down Jessica’s heart-shaped face as we all jumped out of our seats to hug and congratulate them. “My doctor said all is well, and we are in the clear!”

“And…” Daniel spoke up loudly over our cheers and tears. “The good doctor,” he pointed to himself boisterously, “has accepted a
full-time
position here, and Jessica and I have made an offer on a house in Sunset Trace.”

“This just keeps getting better!” Mama gushed over the second round of cheers mingled with the clattering of silverware.

Daniel grinned. “We can’t wait. Although, I’m a little freaked out … I heard there was a robbery and attempted rape in Sunset Trace last year that was never solved. Kind of strange for such a nice area, huh?”

“With a little one on the way, safety is definitely a priority,” Jessica added.

A light bulb went off in my head. Andrew’s eyes sought mine, and we exchanged a glance full of questions.

“I think you may be right, Daniel,” I said carefully. “We should ask Gavin about that.”

I closed my eyes as the memory of Gavin fleeing our cookout resurfaced. Grace said he was never the same after that night he’d left to help that young woman. Could that prowler
still
be on the loose?

Before my worry could escalate, Andrew stood up halfway. “I, too, have an announcement.”

Curious, I put my hand on my hips in an exaggeration fashion. “I’m not aware of any announcement. What’s this?”

He stood behind me and let his hands fall on my shoulders. “It’s not official yet, but it will be at my performance review in February. I got a promotion.” Pride toppled from his eyes to the beaming smile he gave me. “It’s a good one.”

“Well-deserved, man!” Daniel’s energy was contagious. He slapped Andrew on the ass. “That’s freaking awesome! Next stop, CFO.”

Thank you,
I whispered silently, attacking Andrew with a humongous hug.

Dinner persisted with excited buzz around Daniel and Jessica’s upcoming move and baby, Calla’s newfound ability to say “more, more, more,” and Andrew’s promotion. Despite the obvious signs of a beautiful new season entering my life, I failed to keep my thoughts from wandering elsewhere…

Emma, her first Christmas, but without the special mother she would never know.

Gavin, a single father in the worst possible way.

Brooke, the woman I once hated, who I now pitied because her heart was shredded over the cheating bastard I once called “boss.”

Even precious Sadie, the girl who was clueless of her own beauty, so scared she would never find true love.

I sighed and tried to focus on the present. My brother and sister-in-law would be home permanently, my husband got a well-deserved promotion, and my baby girl was inches away from taking her first step. There was so much to be thankful for.

Over coffee and millionaire pie, Daddy prepared this year’s reading. He opened his weathered Bible, a signal for all of us to pause and pay attention. I shot Andrew a look, and he stopped eating mid-bite.

Daddy cleared his throat with a gruff
um-hum
. “This year has not been the easiest for most of us in this room, but life is changing for the better. I feel very blessed to have such a wonderful family, and I pray for each and every one of you every day.”

We all prepared to listen intently as Daddy referred us to a passage. “Jana, I thought of you, sweetheart, when I found this verse.”

Curious, I struggled to find the page. I knew Daddy wished I would read the Bible more often.

“…a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind … after the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire came a gentle whisper.”

My heart skipped a beat as Andrew looked at me, his expression full of amazement.

“Is that why you call God the whisper?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered, nearly dizzy at the irony. “I’ve never heard that verse before.”

The storm is over. A new season is here.
I was more than ready.

A soft smile spread across my face.

“Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a glorious castle. Beautiful and kind, she captured the heart of all the princes in neighboring kingdoms…”

Calla giggled and pointed at the characters in her storybook. Caught up in my affection for her, I scooped her up and hugged her chubby little body so tightly that she squealed in protest. Emma, our tagalong for the morning, who was happily playing on the floor, imitated her laughter. Their daddies were competing on the golf course since Andrew finished the book on Catholicism his mother gave us. It only took him months. At least, he claimed he did. I would let his mother do the interrogating.

“Mama loves her sweet baby,” I said in an animated tone, kissing Calla all over her face.

The phone rang shrilly, and all three of us jumped at the sound. Placing Calla gently next to Emma in their play area, I trotted to the kitchen to answer it.

“Jana? It’s Jack.”

“Hey, Jack,” I said nervously. I couldn’t read his tone.

I closed my eyes. Was this it? The moment that would end this year full of tension?

What if something went wrong? What if they presented new evidence? What if Covington requested yet another extension? What if there was something I did wrong that I did not even realize was—

My palms were slick with sweat as the dreadful silence lingered. What was he waiting for?
Come on, Jack!

“I told you I was confident in your case, Jana. I recommend that we accept Covington Company’s settlement offer for five hundred fifty thousand dollars…” The rest of his words were drowned out by the overwhelming excitement and relief that burst through my body. I was nearly jumping out of my skin.

I collapsed on the floor and convulsed with tears, two precious babies watching me with confused expressions. As if I were on my deathbed, Covington scenes raced through my mind: Collin’s harsh words, Jeff’s blatant lies at my deposition, the nurse asking me if I was coming back…

Your strength paid off. It’s over.
The whisper.

I shed tears one last time for the way Jeff treated me, the way I let Brooke manipulate the situation. I sobbed one last time for the loss of my career, for the memories of scrubs and patients and bonuses and awards that I worked so hard for. This was it. The finale to the months of abuse I endured at Covington, the blatant discrimination that kept me up at night and ruined my pregnancy, the final word that I hoped would prove that I was telling the truth.

I wasn’t going to cry over Covington Company anymore. This was the last time.

Slowly, with my audience of two wee ones following my every move, I lifted myself up and stood tall. With my right hand, I wiped the last teardrops off my face.

I scooped both babies in my arms and broke into a victory dance.

“It’s over! It’s over!” I shrieked as the girls giggled uncontrollably. I switched on the radio, the airwaves overtaken with something Blake Shelton. “It’s finally over!”

I HELD MY breath as I waited for the owner of Lyons Share Custom Framing and Gallery to decide my fate as a local artist. On the phone the week before, he flat out said their answer, ninety-nine percent of the time, was no. Since my claim to fame as a professional artist was limited to one painting hanging in a Mobile gallery, I was considered an amateur. I was confident it would sell, but I wanted a spot in this perfect gallery framed with intricate architecture, set in the town I fell in love with as a girl.

This piece held a special place in my heart. I happily wasted most of Calla’s nap hours working on it, pouring every inch of my heart and soul into every stroke. My model was the snapshot I took the last time I saw Grace alive, perhaps the most exquisite she had ever looked in the many years we were best friends. I set a young woman against the aqua blue waves and white sand of Orange Beach, walking barefoot, her yellow sundress blowing slightly in the wind. Her vivid eyes lifted to the heavens and a hopeful smile danced across her voluptuous lips, a partial profile left visible. To the outside world, she’s a beautiful woman swept up in a scene of magnificence, hope, and promise, but to me, she’s Grace.

His silence was deafening. I wrung my hands together, hoping I was good enough…

“Amazing,” he finally said. “You truly have a unique flair. I love the way you capture expression. We will take it.”

The shock registered on my face. “Really?”

He looked amused. “Yes. Congratulations, Jana, you are in the one percent. Now let’s take a look at similar paintings in the gallery, and we will discuss pricing…”

Elated, I followed him around like a loyal puppy, drinking in my dream coming true. I was only half listening as the owner explained how prices were set, why he chose certain pieces over others, etc. The chaotic shades of pain painted in my soul faded into bright rays of hope for a new season.

I looked out the window into the brilliant January day, thankful that my life was headed in the right direction. If only Grace could be here to share my happiness.

For a split second, my heart stopped. She stood across the street, looking straight at me. Her tousled blond waves were Grace’s; no one else could boast that shade. It couldn’t be found on a grocery store aisle or in a salon cabinet. Her beautiful heart-shaped face, every curve hugging the knit sweater dress she wore, the prominent set of her high cheekbones…

“Jana, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The owner peered at me, concerned.

“I … I’m fine,” I replied quickly, stealing a last look before turning around. The woman caught my stare and whirled around, vanishing into the daylight. She could have been anyone.