Caribbean Crossroads (35 page)

“Maybe not,” Megan said, pointing a shaking finger to where her brothers watched the game. “But they can.”

Bolstered by that truth, Megan felt a shift—physically and emotionally—and the last bricks fell for good. In one sharp moment, she saw him for who he was. Saw his anger at refusing him, standing up to him, at no longer being swayed by what he thought or said. Like a shock to her system, the truth made everything clear: it had been him all this time, that feeling of fear and holding herself back. All she had needed was to stand up to him, like this, to hold the emotional upper hand. And she had done it
—
out in the driveway, in the car to the store, and now in the kitchen. From her repeated rejections, it was obvious to both of them he had no more power over her, and she was finally free. 

She advanced towards him, suddenly strong and energetic so that he involuntarily stepped back. “I see you.” And then she laughed. “I
see
you. You’re small—just a small, inconsequential fish in your own little pond. And you can
never
intimidate me again.”

A sound at the kitchen entry made them both turn. Sam walked in holding an empty chip bowl and stopped still. A cheer went up from the TV room—something good had happened.

Sam’s right empty fist clenched low by his side. “Everything okay in here, Meg?”

“Couldn’t be better,” said Megan. She pushed Jackson aside and walked quickly over to her purse. She had one last thing to do and it was now or never. Standing by Sam, she turned back to Jackson.

“And you still owe me $150 for that last week of work. Got a problem with it, you can take it up with the university complaint department.”

Her last view was of Jackson standing in the kitchen, between arrogance and confusion, and Sam seething. She’d let the two of them work that out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Driving in the dark, Megan knew she could push it for two more hours then she would need to find a hotel, but only until dawn. After that she would be there in a couple of hours. What had Jillian said to her before the cruise? The old Megs would have jumped at the chance. Well, she was jumping now, a definite Old Meg move, but it was right. She knew in her soul, with a pristine clarity, that this was what she should do. Finally, she felt the balanced yin-yang of her Old and New self—improved, tempered, and perfectly clear on what she wanted.

Bryant.

During the hours-long drive, Megan had gone over in her mind their relationship—from despising him, to letting down, to being friends, to being everything. Then letting go, leaving, yearning, and losing.

She shook her head. Incredible. The ride had been unplanned and almost unbearable, but he had borne it. And now, she was done. No grayness or fear, no anger or hostility. In a few short months with God’s help and Bryant’s patience, she had become whole again, free and clear. Her nose tingled and the tears welled in her eyes. Everything in her spilled over with feelings of gratitude for Bryant’s patience, his understanding, his wisdom. How she loved this man.

Loved.

Yes, she did. “I love you, Bryant,” Megan whispered, allowing the words to escape like a thin stream into the car air. Then louder.

“I love you, Bryant Johnson!” She yelled it to the windshield, then laughed. A cascade of emotional glass shattered inside her breastbone. She could almost touch her heart, feeling the beat of it steady and sure. No doubts, not one. She felt the realness of the love, so thick and full, like a safe downy blanket that encased her, with a yearning to wrap him inside.  

Megan pushed the accelerator. 

***

Bryant pushed aside the silver tinsel and placed the cup under the fountain lever, watching it fill, then taking a long swig. He stared out through the dusty window with his typical surveying glance. From the showroom he saw Bertie quickly thread his way toward him through the moving equipment and beefy lumber guys.

He shook his head, chuckling. Bertie had been just what he needed. And now things were taking shape. Orders were coming in fast and steady on the fax machine, several every half hour instead of one every few hours. Ross was spending more time networking on the phone, his favorite thing anyway, always leaning back in the chair with his cowboy boots on the desk. And Mitch was settled in Seattle, having started a few weeks ago with Brinkerhoff. A feeling, quick and sharp, nipped through him. He missed Mitch. He hadn’t realized how much the past few months had meant to both of them, talking more, just being. It had been like old times. Better than old times.

Bryant walked over and turned down the new heater unit, letting himself fall into the chair. He looked out at the field to his right, the newly poured cement footings showing. The new office would be just what this place needed, finally.

Even Dad was doing good, thought Bryant, and not just physically. They had begun talking, not a ton, but enough. Bryant was surprised how much they could communicate playing a game of Snap and saying a total of ten words.

Bryant swiveled in the chair and stared out through the west window. Running the yard had proved surprisingly satisfying, something that he hadn’t anticipated but welcomed. Seeing the place progress under his care had given him the purpose he’d been missing.

Yes, everything had fallen into place. Except the one thing he wanted more than the rest of it combined. Bryant’s jaw tightened. Nothing to be done about that now.

The door banged open and Bertie entered, eyeing Bryant lounging in the chair.

“I told you, a month with me and you’re doing the executive push up.” He took a seat in front of Bryant’s desk. “Another month and you’ll be golfing in San Diego. Speaking of fun”—he shifted in his seat nervously—“want to go out Friday? I mean with a girl? There’s a nice girl that I know who is totally your type. She won’t say two words to me but she’d be all over you. I mean, not in the literal sense. Well, maybe, I don’t know, but she’s definitely not into nerds.”

Bryant let his head rest back on the chair, wearing a pained expression. “I’m sure she’s nice, Bertie. They’re all nice.”

“What’s wrong with you and dating, man, you’re a natural. You’re smart, good looking—except at the yard of course.” He shook his head. “If I had your looks and style, I’d be booked out for months.”

“It’s not like that, Bert-man. You think it’s exciting, meeting someone new—maybe she’ll like you, maybe she won’t. It’s not like that.” He looked out the grimy window. “It’s like playing the same song on the CD player, over and over. You like it at first—it’s upbeat, it’s interesting. But after about the 45th time of that same song, you wanna reach in, pull out the disc, and smash it on the gear shift.”

“Okay, good to know. But Megan didn’t seem that way, what’s up with you and her? I mean, if I can ask.”

Man, he hated that question.
“Absolutely nada. Nothing. Zilch. That about spell it out?”

“Yeah, that sums it up. Is that why you’re so dang moody?”

“Easy.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know.” Bryant swiveled in his chair toward Bertie, throwing his hands out. “You tell me, Bert-man, you’re a Stanford graduate. You’re full of knowledge and wisdom. You tell me.”

Bertie shook his head. “Dude, if a girl even wanted to go to dinner, I’d be asking her to marry me, so I’m not the one to ask. But plain and simple, Megan is a catch and a half. She came here and cooked for your sister, like the whole week, and brought in those muffin things that were awesome. She’s a babe and a half, and smart enough to make you chase her. I’m telling you, I’d kill a deer and eat it raw if that’s what she wanted.”

“Wow. Find that on a greeting card?”

“If you don’t go for her, let me know when the coast is clear.”

Bryant couldn’t repress a smile. It was so easy for him, so clear cut. She was great, Bryant was great—why couldn’t they get together? From that point of view it
was
easy. He was done thinking about it. All it did was make his head hurt. And his heart.

“Talk to me about something else.”

Bertie looked out the window. “Uh-oh, must be a rookie.”

“No hat?” Bryant groaned. “Man, I feel like I babysit twelve little boys every day of my life.”

“
You
do?” Bertie put on his hardhat. “I’m not saying a word.”

Bryant grabbed a hardhat, still muttering under his breath. He walked down the short steps from the trailer, heavy and slow, scanning for the offender. There he was, big parka and baseball cap.

He shook his head.
Rookie.
“Yo, buddy, you need a hardhat.”

The guy had his back to him and didn’t move. Bryant strode towards him.

“Hey, buddy, I’m talking to you.”

Megan turned around and faced him. “I’m sorry, boss, I guess I don’t know the rules.”

He stepped back in shock.
Megan, here?
Instantly his mind raced. If she was here, there had to be a reason. And she wasn’t crying or angry, she was smiling, so it had to be a good one. He squinted down at her. “Where’s the skirt?”

 “That depends—if you want me for grunt labor or light typing.”

Bryant’s face took on the math-puzzle look. “I’m working hard to figure this out. What are you here for? Is this a joke or for real?”

She shook her hair free from the blue baseball cap. “Absolutely real. I’m here, Bry, for you and you alone. I’m in, one hundred percent, nothing held back.” Her voice cracked and she tried to keep the tears from starting. “You’ve been . . . how can you begin to know what you’ve been to me? You’ve made me Megan again, whole and healed. And I’m all yours, beginning to end. Whatever you need me to do to make this work, I’ll do it. Because I love you, and I don’t want to be away from you. Not now, not ever again.”

In one motion, he dropped his hat and clasped her to him. Heedless of the others and fueled by the pent up emotions he’d kept at bay, he kissed her full on, his warm, urgent mouth to hers. Burying herself into him, Megan wrapped her hand around his neck, bringing him closer to her, leaving no doubt of her feelings. Enveloped in his arms again, she finally felt the sureness and the peace she had longed for. With Bryant, she was home. 

Workers lazily walked by whistling and shouting, “That’s right, B” and “Hey, where’s your hardhat, man?” Laughter and buzzing saws echoed off the buildings.  Bryant finally pulled away and looked at her with that sun-on-water smile. “Welcome to the family business.”

Megan smiled and pulled him back.

THE END

Book Club questions

1. Trust is a main theme woven throughout the story. Who were the people Megan was hesitant to trust? How did her progression of learning to trust various people help her ultimately heal?

2. What are some of the traits that ultimately attract Bryant to Megan? How are basic virtues, regardless of physical attraction, a draw to the opposite sex?

3. Megan "tested" Bryant's feelings for her to make her feel more secure in his love. Was she right or wrong to do this? What did she learn from the process, about Bryant and about herself? 

4. What similarities did you see in Megan's responses to Bryant (negative, hestitant, testing, etc.) that you've experienced in your own romances? What did you learn from those prior experiences that has helped you see things differently now?

5. If you were Megan's best friend, what advice would you have given her in responding to Bryant, and to Jackson?

6. At the end, Megan sees Jackson for who he is and is no longer bound by his influence. Have you had that similar experience, learning to standing up for yourself and to no longer be afraid of a situation or person you had feared or avoided? How has it affected you?

7. Throughout the story Megan learns to appreciate what the past has taught her as well as apply it to the present and future. She doesn't have to stay stuck, and she doesn't have to try to be something completely different, either. Have you experienced this in making personal changes? In discovering who you are, how do you choose what to keep from the past and what to add from the present and future?

Acknowledgments

My love and gratitude to my family for supporting my “creative” habits,

and to my Heavenly Father for the joyful, fabulous feeling of

creating something that didn’t exist before.

And, of course, to Jane Austen

whose books and movie adaptations have

for years planted romance writing seeds

in my imagination’s soil.

Also by Connie Sokol

Motherhood Matters

Faithful, Fit & Fabulous

Life is Too Short for One Hair Color

Life is Too Short for Sensible Shoes

Are You Ready for a LIFEChange?

About the Author

Connie Sokol is a mother of six—expecting her seventh—a national and local presenter, and a regular speaker at Education Week. She is a monthly TV motherhood contributor on KSL’s “Studio 5” and is a former TV and radio host for Bonneville Communications. She is also a former columnist for Deseret News and Utah Valley Magazine. Mrs. Sokol is the author of Faithful, Fit & Fabulous, Life is Too Short for One Hair Color, and Life is Too Short for Sensible Shoes, as well as talk CDs and podcasts. Mrs. Sokol marinates in time spent with her family and eating decadent treats. For current blog, podcasts and products, visit
www.conniesokol.com
.