In His Dreams, page 18
Jeff slipped his arm around her waist and tilted her chin upward. “I like what I’m looking at right here.”
She felt the roll of his muscles beneath her arm as he drew her closer. “Me, too.”
Without caring about who might be watching or her stressful thoughts this time, Marsha leaned into Jeff’s kiss.
He drew back, and his eyes glistened. “I’ve never kissed anyone on the top of a sand dune until now.”
“Me, neither,” she said, “and at forty-two, I doubt if it will ever happen again.” She gave him a teasing look. “You do remember that I’m older than you?”
“I remember.” He tweaked her cheek. “I like older women.”
She gave him another prankish shove, but this time he was prepared and held his ground. He nabbed her and drew her into his arms. “We’re on top of the world.”
She looked into his glowing eyes and sadness flattened her spirit. She had no words to respond. She would feel on top of the world if she could dig herself out of the pit of fear. Where was her faith? Right now Jeff’s seemed greater than hers.
Marsha looked down the sand dune, then heavenward. Lord, how can the top of the world feel like the pits?
Jeff snuggled her closer. Today had been wonderful, yet she’d allowed herself to sink into the doldrums of concern. Where was her trust?
Marsha stood in the shower, feeling sand in her hair and those little particles that wouldn’t brush away covering her body. The grit prickled beneath her feet in the shower before it finally washed down the drain. She stepped from the enclosure and towel dried her body, then found another towel to wrap around her hair.
The day had been exhilarating, except for Barb’s comments twisting in her mind. As many times as she’d been to the island, Marsha had never climbed Mount Pisgah, and she had to admit, she’d felt like a girl again, laughing and playing with Jeff. He’d opened doors she’d never dreamed possible.
Marsha dressed, then headed to the living room and sank into a chair. She tossed one of her legs over the arm. “I’m tired. Sand-dune climbing takes a lot of energy.”
Barb nodded, but a look came into her eyes that gave Marsha an unwelcome sensation.
“Something wrong?” Marsha asked.
“No, but I’ve made a decision, and I hope it doesn’t upset you.”
“What decision?” Her chest felt tight.
“I’m leaving on Saturday when Al goes home. He lives in Birmingham so it’s not too far from the house.”
Marsha dropped her legs from the chair arm and straightened. “Why are you leaving?”
Barb’s shoulder twitched. “I’d be more comfortable at home. I’ve had some fun here, but I need time by myself.”
Time by herself. Marsha didn’t like the sound of that and wondered what had triggered that idea. Al came to mind. Had he said something to hurt Barb’s feelings? She dropped that train of thought. If he had, Barb wouldn’t be riding back with him.
Marsha tried to control her expression, but she knew Barb saw the mixture of confusion and concern on her face. “I really don’t understand why you’re running off.”
“To be honest, I want to look for an apartment. I’m more content living by myself. This setup really hasn’t worked out.”
“Have I done something, Barb?” She held her breath, fearing what she would hear. Was it her relationship with Jeff?
“You’ve done nothing. Really.” She gave her a faint smile. “Once again, this isn’t about you. It’s about me.”
Marsha felt the sting again.
Barb looked into her eyes, her expression more direct than Marsha had experienced in the past months. “No matter how I try to get rid of the feeling, I think of myself as the poor spinster sister needing a place to live. I think that’s why my attitude has been so bad lately. I know you don’t think that way, but I do. I need to have my own life and my own things. I made a mistake moving in, and I’m sorry I messed things up for you.”
“You never messed up anything. I messed with your life, trying to mold you into someone I thought you should be. You set me straight on that, and I’m the one who made a mess.”
“I appreciate that, Marsha, really. I love you. It’s nothing to do with loving you.”
While her heart tugged with emotion, Marsha rose and opened her arms to Barb. “I love you, too.”
Barb stepped into her embrace. “I know you do, but I really want to go.
“I can’t stop you, but I’ll miss you.”
Barb grasped Marsha’s shoulders with a telling smile. “I don’t think so. You’re having a good time, and that’s important to me.” She released her and strode to the kitchen.
“Thanks, and it’s been extra fun having you join us for the outings.”
“So we’re both happy then.”
Happy? Was she?
Barb opened the refrigerator and pulled out an orange pop. “Want one?”
“How about some of that lemonade.”
Barb poured a glass, then carried it to Marsha.
She took the drink from her sister, still feeling unsettled. “Are you sure you’re not upset about Jeff?”
“Jeff? How many times do I have to tell you? It’s me, Marsha. I watched you and Jeff earlier today, and I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Maybe I’m wrong about your relationship.”
“I feel as if it’s meant to be, Barb. I’m so content with Jeff. I worried about his faith, and the Lord took care of that.”
“And I think the Lord’s taking care of you, too. Forget what I said earlier. After seeing you together this afternoon, I’ve had second thoughts. Who am I to know anything about love?”
“Barb, you love—”
“Romantic love.”
Marsha didn’t know how to respond.
“Let’s not be so serious. God’s in charge—not you or me.”
Tension fell from Marsha’s shoulders, and she chuckled. For once, it wasn’t only her trying to be in charge.
Barb shifted to the sliding door and looked outside. “Storm clouds.”
Marsha rose and stood behind her, eyeing the dark cumulus clouds that hovered over the lake. Barb’s decision hung over her as dreary as the heavy sky. Though her sister denied anything being wrong, Marsha sensed something more going on, something that charged through her as unpleasant as a lightning bolt.
“This is a rotten day for you to leave,” Jeff said as Al packed his gear.
“I’d rather get back today and have Sunday to get ready for work. Anyway, Lindsey’s mother expects her back today. They’re having some kind of a family party on Sunday.”
“And Barb’s leaving, too.” He searched Al’s face, hoping to make sense out of it. “I’m surprised.”
Al shrugged. “She said she’d rather get home.”
Jeff worried what it meant. Was she upset about Marsha and him? Could that be it?
A sharp crack and boom of thunder shook the house, and Jeff ducked at the ear-splitting noise. “You’re going on the car ferry in this weather?”
“I put it in God’s hands, Jeff.” He squeezed Jeff’s shoulder. “I think you should do the same.” He strode to the doorway. “Lindsey, are you ready?”
She yelled something back, and Al returned to his suitcase. “It’s been a great time. Really.”
Jeff stood there, unresponsive, trying to make sense out of Al’s comment. “What do you mean I should do the same?”
Al chuckled and snapped the locks on his weekender. “This friendship thing needs to be shifted into gear. Don’t dally, Jeff. That’s a good-looking woman you’re patty-caking with. It’s so obvious how you feel about her.” He slapped his shoulder. “Forget the guilt. You’re both single and, if you’ve found someone that lights up your eyes like she does, then go for it. Put the worries you have in God’s hands.”
Jeff drew in a breath. “I’m trying to do that.”
“Don’t try, pal. Do it.” He tugged his case from the bed and swung it toward the doorway. “Now, if I can get Lindsey packed, we’ll be on our way.”
Jeff followed him to the doorway with concern instead of feeling he’d been given a pep talk. If Al had seen Jeff’s feelings so clearly, then Barb had, too, and that had to be the problem. Barb felt hurt or angry at Marsha’s hiding their romance. Now how would Marsha handle that? His shoulders weighted with his irritation. They should have been open from the beginning.
Looking up from his thoughts, Jeff saw Lindsey standing in the hallway with her case beside her, chomping on gum, stretching it out of her mouth, then rolling it back in. She had planted her bored expression on her face, and Jeff prayed that Bonnie wouldn’t go through that stage, but he’d seen it happening already.
Bonnie had stormed into her room after breakfast and refused to come out. He’d found her lying on her bed with her sketchbook, looking at her drawings that had gone by the wayside while Lindsey had been here.
“I’m glad they’re leaving,” she’d said, then rolled over and faced the wall.
Jeff saw no point in fighting a battle, and Lindsey didn’t seem to care. He’d left her in her room and had visited with Al awhile until he’d made the move to leave.
“Do you want to say goodbye?” Jeff asked, peeking into Bonnie’s room. She gave him a look but pulled herself off the bed and came to the doorway.
“Bye.”
“Bye, Bonnie,” Al said, giving her a smile.
Lindsey grunted a goodbye and headed out the door. The rain pelted her before Jeff could suggest an umbrella.
“No problem,” Al said. “Thanks for the great week.” He swung the suitcase over his head as if it were an umbrella and darted for his car.
In moments, they were backing out, the headlights picking up the slashes of heavy rain falling in large puddles on the hard ground.
Jeff watched them go, then returned to the living room. The quiet house seemed too silent. He longed to head for Marsha’s, but she’d said the place needed to be cleaned, and she needed time to do that. More time. Why did women always want time for everything but what the man wanted?
Lowering his head, Jeff faced the truth. The statement was unfair. That wasn’t the case at all and, even thinking it, made him sound like a stubborn kid, pouting because he didn’t have his own way. Marsha needed to do her chores and she probably needed time to deal with Barb’s leaving. He assumed she would be upset.
He walked to the front door and looked outside. “I don’t see a letup. The sky’s as dark as pitch,” he said aloud to himself.
Jeff settled on the sofa, thinking about Al heading home in the bad weather. He prayed Barb’s leaving didn’t add any more strain on his own relationship with Marsha. Even with her playfulness yesterday on Mount Pisgah, she’d seemed troubled. He’d tossed the possible reasons why around until he’d finally given up. He’d never understand women. They worried about things he couldn’t grasp. He had faith Marsha would realize how he and Bonnie felt about her. Then hopefully her doubts would vanish. He longed for a lifelong commitment. He could only pray that she would eventually want the same.
Another crack of lightning split the sky, and he expected Bonnie to come darting out, but she didn’t. He suspected she’d fallen asleep.
He lifted his legs and stretched them the length of the sofa, then plumped the pillow and slid down, his hands resting over his head. Closing his eyes, his mind meandered from one thought to the next—Al’s comments, Barb’s departure, Marsha’s stress, Marsha’s everything. She filled his thoughts, always.
A prayer came to his mind and, as he sent it heavenward, a calm spread over him. Somehow, things would work out. He felt hope rise in his heart and relaxed against the soft pillow beneath his head.
He and Marsha…
Chapter Seventeen
Marsha watched the lightning streak the sky and couldn’t help but worry about Barb and Al taking the ferry during a storm. She only hoped they’d made it across before the worst of it.
To help her ignore the storm, she cleaned the cottage and did laundry. She thought about the past weeks, about everything—Barb, Bonnie and Jeff. The last conversation she’d had with Barb had eased her mind. Barb had spoken the truth. Marsha asked herself where her faith had been. She needed to trust God. Even Jeff had said he sensed the Lord had brought them together.
Bonnie. Marsha’s mind tangled with so many aspects of the child. In the short time they’d been on the island, Marsha had watched Bonnie mature. Had it been her woman’s touch or just a coincidence? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Bonnie had become a preteen, and, though she still had her disability, Marsha had faith that she could live with it. Maybe even have a productive life one day.
And Bonnie’s talent. What a surprise and delight. Watching Bonnie sketch and paint for an hour or more with no anger but only pride for what she’d done, filled Marsha with more pleasure than she could have imagined.
Then Jeff. His image rose in her mind like the morning sun—bright and promising. Some people were depressed on a gloomy day. They needed the sun to energize them. Jeff had provided that for her. She worried and fretted over what it meant. Was her relationship with him based on her need as a caregiver? Was it due to an aunt’s concern for her niece? Was it self-serving? Marsha shook her head.
No matter what she feared, she felt confident her feelings for Jeff were as real and huge as Lake Michigan, which dashed against the shore morning and night.
She settled onto the sofa, wishing she were with Jeff right now, but she had no desire to go out in the rain.
A crack of lightning split the sky; the sliding door rattled and the lights dimmed, then came back on again. Marsha sat nailed to the cushion fearing the worst.
Another zap zigzagged across the sky and, this time, the lights dimmed and died.
Marsha blinked into the darkness. So much for good planning. She tried to get her bearings, then rose and whacked her leg against the counter stool. She stepped away, hoping to maneuver her way around the breakfast bar and get to the kitchen.
When another flash of lightning brightened the room, she got her bearings, then edged her way forward, hoping she could find a flashlight. Foolish that she hadn’t thought of it earlier with the storm carrying on like the Fourth of July’s fireworks. She felt her way around the counter and put her hand on a drawer.
She jerked it open and felt inside for the flashlight. None there. She had one in the car, but she hated to go out in the pelting rain, and she knew she had one inside. Somewhere.
As she tugged open another drawer, it tipped downward and half the utensils fell to the ground before she could catch them. She slipped the drawer onto the counter and felt inside.
Her heart lifted. Flashlight.
Marsha grasped it and pushed the On button. A dim circle of light shone on the counter. She searched in the drawer with the dying illumination and spotted batteries.
Standing in the dimness with the dying flashlight in one hand and the batteries in the other, Marsha questioned her sanity. Why was she here alone while Jeff’s image filled her mind?
“Do I want to spend the rest of the evening in the dark?”
Lightning zagged across the sky again as she answered her question. Absolutely not.
She tucked the flashlight under her arm, pointed the light at the telephone, then grasped the receiver and punched in Jeff’s phone number with her other hand.
When she heard his voice, her heart lifted. “Do you have electricity?”
“Electricity? Sure. What’s up?”
Relief washed over her. “My lights are out here. Can I come over?”
“You don’t have to ask. Are you hungry?”
With all the confusion, she’d forgotten to eat. “I am.”
“I have lots of food. I’ll warm it up. Now get over here, but be careful.”
She hung up, and her smile reached all the way to her heart.
“Who was that?”
Jeff lowered the phone receiver and headed for the refrigerator. “Aunt Marsha. Her power’s out.”
“What?”
“She has no electricity.”
“Is she coming here?”
“Yes. She’s on her way.”
“Okay,” Bonnie said.
Jeff expected her to bounce from the bedroom, but she didn’t. He turned back to the refrigerator and kicked himself into gear. Praising the Lord that his lights weren’t out—not yet, anyway—he set the sloppy joes on the stove, turned on the burner, then pulled a package of buns from the cabinet. He sure had nothing fancy. He grabbed down a bag of chips and another of cookies. Forget gourmet when he prepared a meal.
When another lightning bolt ripped across the sky, Jeff went into the pantry cupboard and pulled out some candles. Marilou had always kept them on hand since power failure happened when people least expected it. He put the tapers into holders and set them on the counter with a book of matches, then found his flashlight and set that where he could find it.
The scent of beef and spicy sauce filled the air, and Jeff turned down the burner. He set a couple of plates with silverware on the table, listening for the sound of Marsha’s car. He’d eaten earlier, but what man couldn’t enjoy a snack?
Thunder rolled overhead, and, when Marsha spoke, he jumped.
“It smells great in here.”
His heart zinged just hearing her voice. “I didn’t hear you with all that clatter outside.”
“I didn’t knock.” She slipped off her jacket. “What smells so good?”
“Sloppy joes,” he said, feeling like the Cheshire Cat with his inane grin. “Not gourmet, but filling.” He patted the chair.
She sank into it. “Where’s Bonnie?”
“She’s been sleeping most of the day.”
“Really?” she said, dishing the meat mixture onto the bun.
Jeff set a bowl of chips on the table, then made himself a sandwich and joined her. Before he took a bite, Bonnie ambled into the room, her face creased from sleep.
“Hungry, Bon?”
Marsha’s face filled with concern. “Aren’t you feeling well?”
Bonnie shook her head. “My stomach feels funny.”
