Groom in Training (13 page)

“You went through a bad time when your husband died. I know it takes years to paste yourself back together.”

A spark of surprise lit her eyes. “Have you ever felt like that?’

Felt? He’d eaten the paste and it tasted awful. “I have.”

She looked at him as if waiting for him to elaborate. Instead he felt tense. Before he could wrap his tongue around words, he heard a rustle behind him and glanced over his shoulder.

“Molly.” Steph’s voice broke the silence. “I hope I didn’t miss something I was supposed to be doing.”

She grinned. “No. You haven’t missed a thing.” She waved her hand across the room. “I’m trying to follow Brent to meet all his associates, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with you since the church.” She shifted toward Nick. “Nice to see you again.”

He rose. “You’ve put on a great party, Molly. I pray you and Brent have a long and happy life together.”

“Thanks, Nick.” She grasped his arm and gave it a squeeze, then looked toward the dance floor. “Looks like I have to stop socializing. Already. I’m being summoned…by my husband.” She giggled. “I love hearing that.” She sent them a grin and hurried off.

Nick grasped the chair back, watching her. “She looks happy.”

“She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.”

His breath hitched, hearing melancholy in Steph’s voice. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through losing her husband. Losing Cara couldn’t be compared to the loss of a mate. He shifted his eyes toward Steph, his pulse skipping again when he saw the cascade of curls spiraling to her shoulders.

She brushed a ringlet from her cheek as if she’d read his mind, then turned his way. “It’s probably time for the bridal dance.”

Nick moved back to his chair, his mind tumbling back to their conversation before Molly arrived. Sometimes Steph had seemed lonely. He’d often wondered if she’d
had a good marriage. If he could guarantee he’d be a good husband, the thought of marriage wouldn’t worry him so much.

Marriage? What happened to the friendship he and Steph had been talking about? How did marriage slip into his thoughts? He scanned the festivities. A wedding reception. Naturally marriage would come to mind.

He searched for something to say as they sat in silence. He suspected Steph was doing the same. They both had things to discuss, but tonight having a serious talk wasn’t going to happen. Another time and place made more sense.

Her absorbed expression vanished, and he turned toward the dance floor to see what was happening. The couples from his table were returning. Nick eyed the activity, suspecting it was time for some of the typical wedding traditions.

Steph tilted her head. “Molly’s beckoning to me. I’m not sure if she wants me or both of us.” She stepped behind Nick, then rested her hand on his shoulder. “Looks like she’s throwing the bouquet.” She backed up and returned to her chair, resting her hands on the back. “I’m not going.”

Nick shifted so he could see Molly. Her wave was obvious. “She wants you, Steph.”

Tension showed on her face as Steph closed her eyes. “I’m supposed to join the unmarried women hoping to catch the bouquet.”

Though she took a step forward, Nick could see her mouth, “Do I have to?”

Molly’s head bounced in a determined nod.

She looked defeated. “I have to do this.”

“Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

Though Steph crept forward, she stayed in the back fringes of the women, and Nick planted his feet a few steps behind her, encouraging her to move closer for Molly’s sake.

Steph didn’t budge.

Nick never understood those traditions, and Steph made it clear what she thought of the practice.

When Molly turned her back to those waiting, she dipped so low Nick lost sight of her behind the throng. The DJ began. One. Two. Three. Molly rose like a catapult, and the bouquet sailed above the heads of the women.

Steph spun around while Nick tried to back away, but the bouquet landed in his arms.

A burst of laughter filled the air as he rushed forward with the flowers and slipped them into Steph’s arms. “These were meant for you.”

Steph’s startled expression melted as she broke into laughter.

A warm flush rose to his cheeks, and he watched her gaze at the flowers, then back to him. “You caught it, and you know what this means?”

He nodded, his embarrassment growing.

“Congratulations.” She sidled up to him with the bouquet. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Nick bit his tongue, jarred by the name that flew into his mind. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He managed a lighthearted smile, then headed back to the table. He felt safer there.

When he reached it, he pulled out Steph’s chair, but when he looked up, he saw the photographer nab her. She gave Nick a shrug and followed the man back to the dance floor where they were preparing to do something. The garter toss, he guessed.

Nick made a quick getaway and headed for the restroom. He’d already snatched the bouquet. He definitely had no interest in catching the garter.

S
teph cuddled the new cocker spaniel. Its wet tongue dragged across her cheek, and her heart burst. “Here. Take him back, or I’ll be tempted.” She handed the dog to Emily.

“That’s what I was hoping.” Emily released a faint smile, which was rare for her.

Steph always wondered why. The young woman usually wore faded jeans and a baggy T-shirt, and though she appeared to be in her early twenties, her body language signaled an older woman. “Your job here is only part time, right?”

The cocker squirmed in Emily’s arms, and she cuddled it to her, both of them looking a little lost. “Molly said she hopes to let me work full time soon.”

“That’s great.” But something about Emily left Steph wondering. “You must work somewhere else, too.”

“I’m a dog sitter.”

Steph drew back. “Really? You mean, you live in people’s—”

“Not always. I have a studio apartment so I enjoy staying in homes, but I walk people’s dogs and care for them
when they’re away from home. Vacations or some people work long hours.” She shrugged. “You know.”

“That’s an interesting job, and you make life easier for pet owners.”

“I hope so.” She gave Steph one of her serious looks.

As she shifted the cocker in her arms, Steph’s stomach smacked her heart. A thick scar marred each of Emily’s wrists as if she’d…No. Her mind flew back to Doug, then withdrew as she peered at the scars again.

Emily’s face blanched as she stepped away. “I need to—”

“Don’t go.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and she curled her arms around the puppy to hide her scars. “Why?”

“Because I need to talk with you.” She searched Emily’s face, hoping she could learn something, anything that would resolve the endless doubts that struck her so unexpectedly after she’d thought she’d healed.

“About what?” A frightened look etched her face as her eyes lowered to her wrists.

Steph had opened the door, and she couldn’t walk away now. “My husband committed suicide, Emily. Four years ago.” An icy chill shuddered through her bones, realizing this woman had considered such a horrible death. She gave a quick nod to Emily’s wrists. “Did you—”

Emily’s eyes closed. “Yes. A couple years ago.” She lifted her eyelids, her face mottled.

Steph cringed, having dredged up the woman’s sorrow for her own selfish motive. “I shouldn’t ask you, but—”

Emily rested her hand on Steph’s arm. “It’s okay.” Her gentle eyes probed Steph’s and her color returned. “You want to know what you could have done and if you were the cause.”

“I want to understand so I can let it go.”

Emily patted her arm. “I need to return to the office, but we can talk before you leave.” She nestled the puppy to her cheek. “He should be put down so he can adjust.”

“Later’s fine. Thank you.” Steph watched her plod back to the pens, then headed to the door to check on the dogs playing outside.

The sun’s rays warmed the chill she’d felt seeing the evidence of Emily’s attempt to take her life. What caused that kind of emptiness? Steph admitted she’d felt lonely and incomplete since Doug’s death, even as difficult as marriage had been, but she would never have taken her life. The depth of hopelessness seemed—

Her cell phone sounded. Steph drew it from her pocket and read the caller’s name. Her pulse did a jig when she heard Nick’s voice.

“What about getting together tonight?”

Did he mean a date? Walking the dogs?

“Steph?”

“What did you have in mind?” Fred distracted her. He flashed past, sashaying around the yard with Miranda, a mixed breed, German shepherd and Samoyed.

“Let’s go to Detroit. Hart Plaza. The RiverWalk.”

The RiverWalk. She hadn’t seen it since it had been expanded.

“Maybe have dinner down there. Someplace with music. What do you say?”

He’d also called to let her know Suzette had recovered and was home; Steph hadn’t seen him since the wedding. She missed him, and it bothered her that she felt so attached. “It sounds nice.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

She agreed and hung up, certain that the talk they’d
started at the wedding would continue on the RiverWalk. She needed to decide what to do. Was she ready to talk about herself?

By late afternoon, Steph wondered if the day would ever end. Though she anticipated her evening with Nick, her eagerness to talk with Emily remained the pinnacle of her thoughts. As she eyed her watch, she feared Emily had forgotten. With the dog’s owners arriving to take their animals home, she couldn’t find time to remind her.

As the last dog trotted away with its owner, Emily appeared at her doorway. She left the door open.

“I need to hear the bell if someone arrives,” she said, looking uneasy as she faced Steph.

Steph motioned to her office chair. “It’s probably more comfortable in the front office.”

“That’s okay.” Emily lowered herself to the tile and sat. “Do you want to ask questions?” She looked to the ground. “I’d rather not go into details about me.”

“No. That’s fine.” Steph sank into her desk chair and swiveled to face Emily. “I can imagine the memories still hurt.”

Emily’s hands knotted in her lap. “I’m ashamed. It happened before I knew Jesus, and now I can’t believe I wanted to die.”

Steph nodded, connecting with Emily’s feelings—feelings that were so new to her. “Sometimes people are desperate.”

She nodded, a thoughtful look covering her face. Emily brushed her long hair away from her face, her eyes direct. “How did he die?”

Steph told her the story, the way she’d been shocked, angry, confused, despondent and then numb. “But I pulled myself out of it and moved along.” She paused, finding the
right words. “Then for no reason the questions come back like a dart penetrating the pit of my stomach. Why? What did I do wrong? Could I have stopped him? Why didn’t I see it?”

“Steph.”

Her gentle voice whispered against Steph’s ear, and she stopped. “Useless questions, right?”

Emily nodded. “Some people give warnings. They are depressed, withdrawn, give away their belongings. Usually those are the people who are crying for help. They don’t really want to die, but they don’t know what to do.”

“Doug had been depressed, but he’d been that way for so long. He never gave anything away that I noticed.”

“Taking your life is a desperate measure, but when someone is determined, nothing will stop him. It’ll happen sooner or later.”

She looked so matter of fact Steph couldn’t respond.
Nothing will stop him.
“Nothing?”

Emily’s eyes answered her question. “Steph, you can’t read someone’s mind, not someone who’s determined. Don’t beat yourself up.”

But she had for so long. She lowered her eyes, and her watch came into view. Seven. Nick was coming at six-thirty. She was late.

Hal’s welcome had been less than pleasant when Nick tried to carry on a conversation. He took an occasional furtive glance at his watch, then rose and paced along the wide window. Finally he stopped and rocked on his heels. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

Hal clicked the TV remote to another station. “How should I know? The police haven’t called.”

Nick’s muscles twitched in his arms. “You don’t care much about your sister, do you?”

Hal arched his back and pulled himself into a sitting position. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The street was empty. Nick spun around. “Steph’s usually not late. She might have—”

“Do you think you have a corner on being late?”

Hal’s knifing comment pierced Nick and then twisted. But he was right. How often had he kept people waiting and sometimes never made it at all. It showed lack of respect, even self-centeredness. It had to stop. No more excuses. “You’re right.”

Nick sank into the chair and folded his hands in his lap. “Did you find a job?”

Hal’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t stopped by to fill out an application. I thought maybe you’d found something else.”

A cocky look rose on his face. “Maybe I have.”

His cell phone hummed in his pocket, sparing Nick from finding a civil answer. He flipped open the cover. “It’s Steph.”

Hal made a grunt sound as Nick pressed the phone to his ear.

“I’m on my way. I’m sorry, Nick. Time just whizzed past me.”

With Hal eavesdropping, Nick couldn’t say what he wanted to. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.” But he’d wanted to tell her how he’d felt and what he’d learned. Instead she said goodbye.

When he flipped the phone closed, he slid it back in his pocket and decided to stare at the TV. It seemed easier. But the blat of the television faded as a love song merged into Nick’s thoughts and the kiss. His pulse escalated. He’d wanted to open his heart that night, but it didn’t happen, and since the wedding, he’d been tied up late at work. Brent’s
new order plus another large one, both a gift, had consumed his time with extra hours and work, but he welcomed it. He needed it to stay solvent. Yet he’d missed Steph.

On a positive note, her absence had given him time to think. When Nick was with her, he lost control of reality, and this time when he fell on his knee to ask a woman to marry him, he wanted to be confident. He wanted to feel the Lord at work in his life.

Places he needed to change or grow slithered through his mind—an endless list of ways in which he wanted to be a better person. His lateness had to stop, and his unwillingness to show emotions needed some work. Weeping publicly was not a prerequisite, but responding to someone’s needs, even when his emotions tore him up inside, would make him a whole person. When Nick thought of this, his mother came to mind. Steph had helped him see that clearly.

Steph was good for him. She brought out the best and what wasn’t best; he agreed it needed to be honed and shaped like the potter’s clay.

At this moment and in this place, he believed Steph could be the one. But the word
could
gave him pause. A woman who shared his faith was the core of a good marriage. She’d begun to question and grow. All he needed was to be reassured that she had found the Lord. That would mean everything to him.

And for something this significant, he wasn’t in a rush.

His eyes shifted from the blur of the television to Hal, sprawled on the sofa, reminding him of his own weakness when it came to his brother. Enabling. He and Steph were both guilty.

Steph pushed open the door, her eyes shifting from Nick to Hal and back again. She monitored her frustration with
Hal by focusing on Nick. “Being late is the last thing I meant to do.”

“Why apologize to him? He keeps you waiting all the time.”

Nick’s mouth opened then closed. He drew up his shoulders. “Hal’s right. You have no need to apologize.”

Her chest tightened. The sincerity in his face heartened her. When she shifted her gaze to Hal’s dismayed expression, she had to stifle a laugh. Hal had met his match. He couldn’t argue or make another comment because Nick had agreed. Smart move on Nick’s part.

Letting the barbs fade, she touched Nick’s arm. “Do you still want to go?”

His head drew back. “Sure.” He faltered. “If you do.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Steph certainly didn’t want to stay at home with Hal.

In her bedroom, she slipped off her work clothes and looked into her closet. Nick wore jeans and a polo shirt. She loved seeing his tanned arms and his face the color of bronze. Taking his lead, she stepped into a pair of teal-colored capris and dropped a teal print knit top over her head. She freshened her makeup and ran a comb through her hair before grabbing her bag.

Nick had remained near the door while Hal pouted on the sofa. “Now that’s a record.” He motioned to her quick change.

“I’m anxious to enjoy the RiverWalk.” And to get away from Hal. She stepped through the door, her heart heavy with what to do about her brother but buoyant to share the time with Nick.

Outside, he slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close as he led her to the passenger side of his car. The comfort of his nearness eased the tension she’d felt with Hal.

Nick opened the sunroof as they drove, and the fresh air
blew away the rest of her negative feelings. She hoped today they could really talk, alone and without interruption. But she feared when it came time, she wouldn’t be able to tell him. Though she’d opened her heart to Julia, she had little to fear. The fragile woman made it easy. But with Nick? So much seemed to be at stake.

Nick exited I-375 on Jefferson Avenue, then found a spot in the Ford Underground Parking Garage. Steph exited the car before he could make it around to be a gentleman. Eager to get onto the plaza, they took the stairs rather than wait for an elevator, and when she stepped outside the lowering sun glinted off the Hart Plaza fountain—a strange-looking fixture like a doughnut on top of a bipod.

The gray, white and blue concrete captured the color of the sky—a pale blue dotted with wispy white clouds touched with gold. Nick tucked his fingers through hers as they crossed the plaza to the railing overlooking the Detroit River with the Ambassador Bridge stretching to Canada to her right and a glimpse of Belle Isle in the opposite direction.

In silence, they drew in the fresh air and the scenery, and Steph wafted in their closeness. Something new had happened, a sensation she couldn’t explain and was afraid to understand. With Nick she’d found comfort and a kind of peace. Her mind thumped. Could it be God at work in her heart?

Without speaking, Nick slid his arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the Renaissance Center. A warm breeze ruffled her hair, and she’d noticed Nick looking at it. She’d kept it curled because he’d said how much he liked it. Straight took less time, but his compliment motivated her to do the extra work.

An empty bench appeared, and Nick drew her toward it. When she sat, her gaze drifted west to the Ambassador
Bridge where the lowering sun touched the top of the steel towers that held the suspension cables. The sky had already begun to color with a sunset glow and splashes of gold sparkled on the ripples in the river.

“I’m disappointed in Hal.”