Tapestry of Trust (6 page)

A beat passed. She swallowed. OK. Curiosity won.

After a moment’s hesitation, Isabelle eased her gaze back and zeroed in on the woman. The blonde twirled a pale curl around her finger, Isabelle couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a sparkly ring on her finger. Of course, Charlie had to be engaged. He worked for the woman’s father. To think just two days earlier he’d asked her out for coffee.
That rat.

“Miss, your order is ready.”

Isabelle spun around, snatched up the drink, and started for the exit. The fear of being spotted quickened her pace. She pulled open the door and risked one last glance back.

Charlie still looked deep in conversation. She couldn’t make out his words. Good thing. He was probably telling the woman he loved her.

Grief washed over her, making her feel even lower. Something she hadn’t thought possible. Charlie had proven long ago he wasn’t worth it.

She stepped out of the café. A gust of wind whistled around her and slapped the drink out of her hand. Hot coffee splashed on her jeans, and the empty paper cup rolled down the sidewalk. She chased after it and tossed it in a trashcan. A faint thunder rumbled in the distance as a fat raindrop hit her nose.
Perfect
.

She scrambled across the parking lot and hurried inside her car. She sat for a moment, fighting back tears. The pastor’s Sunday morning message rolled through her head.
All things work together for good.
Pressure built in her chest. Leaning her elbows on the steering wheel, she cupped her face in her hands and wept. How could anything involving Charlie be good for her? A better question,
Why, Lord, have you allowed Charlie to disrupt my life? Again.

****

Charlie opened the file labeled Cedar Lake Barn. Lifting his pen, he scratched his head and looked over the documents, making sure everything was in order. About three pages in, he spotted an error. He hit the intercom.

“What do you need?”

He ignored Brenda’s snappy tone and stated the page numbers he was missing. Then, he picked up his coffee and took a drink, mentally rehearsing the presentation for that afternoon.

Not bad, he concluded. Especially, considering his recent distractions. Focus used to be easy, but lately Isabelle kept his mind spinning. He just couldn’t figure her out. Shaking his head, he still couldn’t believe she hadn’t called to thank him for having Rusty fired.

On the other hand, Erica kept calling. Right now he had three messages on his cell phone—all from her. Which reminded him, he needed to update his resume just in case Erica decided to pounce on her father with both feet, convincing him to kick Charlie to the curb.

Papers slapped on the desk in front of him.

“Anything else?” Brenda’s lips pursed together like a duck’s bill. He blinked, twice.

“No, thanks.” At least nothing she could help with. He skimmed through the paperwork.

Total silence. Except for Brenda’s groan. He overlooked it.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m sick.”

He glanced up, saw her red nose.” Sorry, I hadn’t noticed. Hope you’ll feel better soon.” Caring enough, he thought.

“That’s right, Charlie, you don’t notice much anymore.” She glared down at him.

He shifted in his seat. Even his secretary was mad at him. Great. One more female he couldn’t figure out.

“What’s with the prune lips? You and Erica have a fight?”

Charlie drew in a deep breath to refrain from telling Brenda to go look in mirror. This had to be his punishment for making her work. “Erica and I broke up months ago. You know that.”

“Being apart hasn’t agreed with you. You look miserable. Worse than usual.” The duckbill lips again. Not commenting was tough, but good sense barely prevailed. He took a swig of coffee.

“Maybe you and—”

Charlie raised a hand. “My mood has nothing to do with Erica.”

Brenda’s eyes rounded. She darted a glance at the doorway then back at him. “You don’t mind if I sit, do you?” Before Charlie could say no, she flopped into the seat across from him. Scooting to the edge, she rested her elbows on his desk. “So, you’re moping over another woman?”

“Let’s just say I have issues with an old friend.”

Brenda pulled back a little. Her eyebrows shot up. “We are talking about a woman, right?”

“Yes.” Charlie sat straighter. “Of course, I’m talking about a woman. An old girlfriend.” He could just imagine the rumors she could start with that tidbit.

“So what about her?”

“Nothing really.”

“You dating her?”

“No.”

“But you’d like to?”

“Sure. I mean, maybe. That is if she were more receptive.”

“I don’t blame her for not wanting to date you.” Brenda leaned back in her chair, and rubbed her red nose. “You probably broke her heart or something.”

“We attended different colleges.” He shrugged, taking care to temper his tone. “Well, let’s just say distance and immaturity helped contribute to poor choices.” He pulled in a breath, shook his head, not fully believing he was having this conversation with Brenda. “Yes. I did let Isabelle down.”As she did him, but he was willing to forgive and forget.

Brenda jumped to her feet and marched toward the doorway. “Send her flowers.”

“Flowers?” He echoed, liking the idea.

Before he even got the word out, Brenda, quick as a cockroach, scrambled back into the room and plopped a votive candle on his desk. Pulling a match from a matchbox, she struck it on the sole of her shoe and lit the wick. “Here. This will help you relax. Blue lavender. Close your eyes. But don’t knock it over or you might burn the place down.” She coughed into her hand and then patted his desk. “Of course then your girlfriend problems will seem like nothing.”

Charlie laughed, and Brenda scooted out the door. “Thank you. And please keep this confidential.”

Brenda halted, whirled back, her hand gripping the doorframe. She frowned at him. “Ever since you and Erica broke up, gossip has been in short supply. But I won’t tell. I kinda like you better now.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the hallway and lowered her voice. “And if Princess Erica found out you had eyes for someone else, she’d find a way to ruin your chances.”

His sentiments exactly. “Thank you.”

Her eyes widened. “By the way, now that you and Miss My-Daddy’s-the-Boss are really kaput, what about your job?”

Good question.
Charlie shrugged. “So far so good. Her dad likes my work.”

“For now.”

Charlie nodded. He had to agree. Three weeks until graduation and
for now
he had a job. He thanked the Lord for that. “I’m getting my resume together just in case.”

“Good plan. “And about this little conversation we’re having...” Brenda shot him an obliging glance and touched her fingers to her lips. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.” Charlie inhaled and got a nose full of lavender. He sneezed. “This is supposed to relax me?”

Brenda rolled her eyes. “Yes. Sit back, shut your mouth, and close your eyes. I’m going to mosey over to the next hall and watch Miss Erica mope.” Her lips quirked into a crooked smile, and Charlie chuckled. “Gotta do something to brighten my day.”

Settling back in his chair, he heeded Brenda’s advice, adding a prayer to the mix. He needed guidance. He needed peace. He needed to talk to Isabelle.

****

Half an hour later, Brenda poked her head back in his office. “By the way, your mother called earlier.”

“My mother?”

“She said it was urgent but not emergent.”

Charlie scratched his head.
Urgent but not emergent?
“OK. Thanks, Brenda.” He dialed his mother’s number and turned on the speakerphone.

On the third ring she answered.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hello, dear. Hope you’re having a good day.”

“Let’s say it’s getting better.
So what’s
emergent but not urgent?” He bit back a chuckle at her analogy.

Silence followed by a wistful sigh. “Charlie, I’m worried about you.”

Charlie straightened. “Why?”

“Well, I spoke to
Erica a little while ago.”

Erica.
He slumped back in the chair.

“She told me you aren’t working very hard to resolve the issues between you two.”

And this she thought was urgent? Charlie swallowed a sigh. “Erica’s correct.” Dropping his gaze, he thumbed through the open file in front of him.

“Are you serious?”

He picked up a pen and pulled a couple of documents from the file. “I don’t know why you’re surprised.
We broke up months ago.
I don’t plan on making that mistake again.”

“Son, do you realize what you’re giving up? A prestigious position. Financial security. Not to mention Erica is beautiful and…”

Writing swiftly, Charlie jotted notes on a page, adding an occasional, “Uh huh.” He half listened to his mother’s rhetoric, until something she said hit a nerve.

“Hold on there.” His tossed the pen down and leaned forward, planting his forearms on the desk. “Do not confuse love and happiness with money and status.”

“Charlie, you and Erica were in love and can be again.”

“No.” Charlie shook his head. “I don’t love Erica. I never did. As far as money and status, I’m no longer driven by either of them.”

“If you lose Erica, you’ll never have this opportunity again.”

Good.
“The only opportunity I’d like is to have another chance with Isabelle Crafton.”

Silence.

Charlie waited. He yawned. Scratched his jaw.

Then something between a groan and a sigh came through the speakers. “I hope I heard you wrong.”

“Nope.”

“You just told me you didn’t want to make another mistake, so why on earth would you be interested in Isabelle Crafton. That…that—”

“Mother.” Charlie sat bolt upright, clasping the armrests of the chair. “Don’t say a negative word about Isabelle. I know how you feel, and, frankly, it doesn’t matter.”

“Charlie, you’d better reevaluate your goals.”

Done.
“I need to get going Mom, I have work to do.”

He clicked off the speaker and did a quick web search. After finding the number he wanted, he picked up the phone and dialed. He cleared his voice and waited for someone to answer.

“Yes. I’d like to order a bouquet of flowers. Yellow and white daisies.”

Isabelle’s favorites.

6

Isabelle quietly shut the closet door in the classroom, careful not to interrupt her student while he worked on his math. Friday afternoon, but Drew stayed after school to finish his assignment. She brushed off her jumper and glanced around. Besides a few scraps of construction paper and a dusting of glitter on the floor, the room looked in order.

“Drew, do you need any help?”

The boy looked up and yawned. “Nope.” Tucking his pencil behind his ear, he dropped his gaze back to the paper.

Isabelle bit back a sigh. “Drew, you need your pencil to finish your work.”

Without glancing up, he snatched the pencil and chewed the eraser.

Shrugging a shoulder, Isabelle crossed the room and sank into her desk chair. She pulled her day planner from her bag and reviewed her schedule. When she realized how many activities she had planned the next couple weeks, both for school and Kate’s wedding, she sighed. May looked even busier. What was Kate thinking when she planned her wedding so close to the end of the school year?

The answer came quickly.
Mark’s mother,
the self-appointed wedding coordinator. Mrs. Johnson picked the date, along with just about everything else for the wedding. She wanted the wedding perfect for her son’s bride. Which drove Kate a little crazy, but at least Mrs. Johnson was acting out of love.

In contrast, Charlie’s mother would have acted the same in regards to planning the wedding, but her motivation would have been to impress her friends, not her future daughter-in-law.

Whoa.
Where did that come from?

Isabelle shook herself as if to banish the thought. Time to refocus on something more relevant: Kate’s shower. She scribbled notes on a pad, including a reminder to pick up the cake. She scratched the side of her head with her pencil and glanced at the clock on the wall.
Finally.

She got to her feet and walked to the front of the desk. “Drew, are you finished?”

Fidgeting in his seat, Drew shrugged. “I guess.” With an elbow, he pushed the paper aside, lowered his arms on the table, and plopped his chin on his fist.

She felt her heart skip. Not again. “Please bring me your paper? Your mother’s probably already waiting.”

Drew traipsed to her desk, dragging his book bag like a sack of bricks. He handed her his work, his gaze downcast.

Isabelle skimmed the worksheet. She didn’t understand. “You’re not finished.”

She’d assigned him half the problems on the page, and he still completed less than yesterday. She crouched beside him and peered into his eyes. “I can’t help you if you don’t do your part.”

Drew scrunched his face tight. “I hate school. I never have fun.”

“OK, let’s make school fun.” The words popped out a little prematurely. She already did her best to make the classroom atmosphere fun. Not to mention the reward system she’d implemented, which made success easy for the students. Well…except for Drew.

Taking a breath, she thought another moment. “How about a special behavior chart?” Isabelle studied his face, now lifted toward her. For once, she had his attention. “We’ll make things easy. You’ll earn a star for good choices. Like completing homework and schoolwork, keeping quiet in line, waiting your turn, or if you raise your hand instead of speaking out in class.”

“What do I get for the stars?” His brows rose.