Authors: Gail Gaymer Martin
He closed his eyes and drew her into his embrace. “I trust you. You can have your time, but I’m disappointed. Tomorrow’s the Fourth. I want to put your name up in lights. I want to sing this revelation from the housetops.”
So did she, but she had responsibilities. She needed to explain things to Barb, first. She needed to—What? Her excuse sounded so shallow, even to her.
Jeff had to hogtie Bonnie to get her ready for the town’s festivities, and it made him laugh. Both girls seemed excited over the morning Fourth of July activities. He’d explained the events were a full day with the parades, skydivers, a carnival and fireworks at the end of the day. They didn’t celebrate the Fourth nearly as fully in the big cities downstate.
“Let’s hurry,” he said, prodding Bonnie to finish combing her hair. “Aunt Marsha is ready and wants to get a good spot for the parade.”
Aunt Marsha. Bonnie adored her, and so did he, but she’d knocked the wind out of his sails yesterday when he’d admitted his feelings. The words
I love you
had nearly fallen from his lips and, with her caution to wait, he was grateful he’d controlled himself. But no matter what he called it, Jeff knew he had fallen in love—the proverbial head-over-heels kind that almost made him feel giddy.
Lindsey fussed over her hair and makeup, which upset Bonnie. She wanted eye shadow and lipstick, too, but Jeff took her aside and tried to explain Lindsey was older. Even then, he wasn’t happy about seeing the girl decked out like one of the floats they would see in the parade.
Finally, with threats of staying home from the celebration, Bonnie gave in, but her mouth curved down to a miserable look, and he hoped it would fade by the time they arrived at Marsha’s.
Al packed the trunk with chairs while Jeff gathered his contribution to the picnic and, once loaded, they made the short trip to Marsha’s. He wanted to tell Al what had happened after his talk with Marsha—get his advice—but he decided not to dwell on it. He only hoped that Marsha hadn’t let their discussion ruin the day.
His fears were lifted when he pulled up to the A-frame. Barb and Marsha were at the door, ready to load her trunk. Jeff jumped from the driver’s seat. “Can we fit everything in one car? Parking could be a problem. I think we can put the four smallest people into the backseat.”
He saw Barb pat her hips, and he chuckled. “You can sit in front with Al. He’ll have to drive.”
She shrugged and Marsha smiled as she handed him a picnic hamper. “We have more chairs and a large Thermos of lemonade. That should do it.”
Al grasped the chairs from Barb while Jeff carried the box. In minutes, the trunk was packed and so was the car. He and Marsha squeezed together—pure pleasure for him—while the girls scrunched into the rest of the seat. He was grateful the trip was short. They found a space on Donegal Bay Road near Main Street and, with everyone lugging something, they walked to a grassy spot across from the Shamrock Restaurant and opened the folding chairs while the girls spread a blanket on the grass.
The day was perfect and, as Jeff watched, near noon he saw a band gathering on the stage. Christian music filled the air, songs he didn’t know, but he clapped his hands and tapped his toe. When his gaze drifted to Marsha, she smiled, but he thought he saw something questioning in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Perfect. The day’s beautiful and the company is even better.”
Her comment reassured him. Maybe they could get through these trials. She’d said Barb had confessed something to her, something important from the way she’d talked, and he had to respect that. Still, her hesitation bothered him. He feared this might be only an excuse. She’d been single for four years. For him, it had only been two. Yet, she hadn’t mentioned dating or seeking company, and he knew that Don’s illness had dealt a horrible blow to romance in their lives. Yet, she’d remained a devoted wife, showing him love and caring for him to the end.
What did Jeff expect? Sometimes he seemed to second-guess too many things. He needed to let things happen and not push them. If Marsha loved him, he would know soon enough. She’d asked for time, not a lifetime.
Marsha gave him a questioning look, and he managed a smile, then focused on the band’s message of salvation, which, until recently, he’d forced from his life.
She motioned to the picnic basket and, as they listened, she passed out the plates and laid the food in containers on the blanket. Marsha had even thought to bring a jar of peanut butter, just in case.
When they were eating, Jeff noticed a couple of teenage boys hanging around, and he saw Lindsey looking at them. He needed to keep tabs on her or caution Al, but he hated to put a damper on everyone’s fun. He’d be alert himself.
Jeff’s thoughts shifted to Lindsey’s behavior, and he surprised himself feeling proud of Bonnie. He couldn’t believe how well she’d behaved since Al had arrived. She’d had one temper tantrum at the golf course, but other than that, she hadn’t caused an uproar, and he was grateful. Marsha had said sometimes kids grow out of it, and maybe so. What he had noticed was she’d gotten moodier and cried more easily. He wondered if Lindsey had triggered that problem.
Tap dancers were followed by a community choir singing “God Bless America” and “You’re a Grand Old Flag.” People in the crowd lifted their small American flags and waved them. Marsha sang along with the choir, and pride filled Jeff’s chest hearing her excellent voice.
“Look!” Bonnie called as the choir left the stage.
Jeff stared into the sky as jets flew over in formation. Then they all gasped when a biplane appeared next doing loop-the-loops and, finally, the skydivers glided through the air.
“Wow!” Lindsey yelled, and Bonnie followed suit. Lindsey rose and Bonnie followed, moving behind the chairs. Jeff glanced over his shoulder, and they had their eyes aimed at the sky so he relaxed.
When the show ended, Jeff looked again, and the girls were leaning against someone’s car, watching as the parade came down Main Street—floats and music, bicycles decorated with colorful plastic ribbons—each one extolling the theme, the beauty of Beaver Island.
Thinking about Bonnie, he turned again, but this time he didn’t see either of the girls. He bounded from his chair. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he whispered to Marsha and made his way through the crowd, anxiety knotting his stomach.
He looked both ways along the street and finally spotted Lindsey. The girls had moved down a few vehicles and were leaning against a truck with the teenagers he’d seen earlier. Lindsey was nestled beside one of the boys and the other had his arm around Bonnie with his arm too close to her chest.
Fire rose in him, and he sent up a prayer as he charged forward. “There you are,” he said, controlling his hands from balling into fists. “Girls, come back to our spot.” He waved them away. Lindsey muttered a comment, and Bonnie looked confused.
As the girls moved aside, Jeff closed in on the boys. “These girls are underage and off-limits, boys. If I see you near them again, I’ll have to do something I’d rather not do.”
The boys gave him a smirk and swaggered away, making an obscene gesture. He caught up with the girls and stopped them. “This is between you and me, Lindsey. I don’t want to ruin your dad’s day, but one more time, and he’ll have to know.”
She rolled her eyes, and Bonnie touched his arm, her expression telling him she didn’t know why he was angry. Tonight, he needed to tell her about boys. The whole idea stuck in his throat.
Marsha gave him a quizzical look, but he just shook his head, and she didn’t ask. Lindsey gave him an occasional frown, but, when the parade ended and the carnival began, she stuck by them as they eyed the activities—a dunk-the-celebrity tank, a huge plastic trampoline castle, games for the kids and even cotton candy.
“What happened?” Marsha asked as they trailed behind the others.
“Bonnie and Lindsey were with two boys down the road a ways.”
She arched an eyebrow, and he stopped her before she said anything. “I’ll talk with her tonight. I promise.”
Marsha shook her head. “I worry,” she said, weaving her fingers through his. She lifted their hands so he could see them bound together. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Do you have to ask?” He squeezed her fingers, pleased that she’d taken action. He’d longed to put his arm around her earlier, but Barb had been nearby, and he’d promised Marsha time.
Time. Time on my hands. The old song lyrics wove through his mind.
Bonnie apparently had noticed their contact and waited for him. When he reached her, she latched on to his other hand. Jealousy. He’d never imagined it would happen, although he’d already seen inklings of it. But it confused him. Bonnie loved Marsha and had been the one to instigate getting together so often. He sent up a prayer, amazed at how easy it felt after so long evading the Lord.
As the evening darkened, they gathered back at their spots on the grass to watch the boat parade, then the time came for the fireworks.
He caught Bonnie’s eye and pointed to the south side of Paradise Bay across from Whiskey Point.
With darkness over them, all eyes turned toward the sky, all except his. In the dimness, he studied Marsha’s face, longing to tell the world how he felt about her and wondering how he could let a day go past without holding her in his arms.
Barb and Al were deep in conversation as they’d been from nearly the moment they’d been introduced. He wondered what topic had been so interesting, what had drawn them together.
The fireworks began with everyone glued to the bursts of color, the spirals that hissed as they descended, the secondary bursts that glowed like golden chrysanthemums in a forest-green garden.
Jeff grasped Marsha’s hand and gave it a tug. When she looked at him, he tilted his head toward the street. “For a minute,” he whispered, beckoning her to follow.
They rose, unnoticed it seemed, and slipped away while a boom reverberated into the sky with the “oohs” and “aahs” of the crowd.
“We can’t do this,” Marsha whispered, tugging against his hand.
“Sure we can. Just for a minute.”
He felt like a kid trying to sneak his first kiss. In fact, he hated having to hide his feelings and he hoped Marsha resolved the situation soon. He wanted to understand, but he didn’t. Jeff wanted to shout his feelings from the rooftops.
He drew her away from the crowd and up Donegal Bay Road to his car. He leaned his back against it, letting the vehicle block them from view, and drew her into his arms. “I can’t be with you without holding you for a moment.”
She tossed her head as if she couldn’t believe him, but she didn’t struggle when he tightened his embrace.
“I feel like I’m doing something wrong,” she said into his ear.
“Wrong? How can this be wrong?” He lowered his mouth to hers, feeling the tender touch of her soft lips. She released a tiny moan that charged to his heart. He couldn’t believe he felt as he did. His life, so empty and weighted with problems, had suddenly burst into a wonderful new experience, more wonderful than the fireworks display.
She drew back, lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of…and more.”
He wanted to tell her about his dreams. She’d appeared in them so often, sometimes dressed in that pale blue color that she’d worn when he’d first arrived—a color as soft as a morning sky.
Jeff brushed his lips against hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth and drawing in the scent of her fragrance. He released a breath, ragged yet filled with deep pleasure.
“We should get back,” she said, slipping her fingers through his again. “They’ll notice we’re gone, and Bonnie will be frightened.”
He nodded, wanting to stay there forever in the privacy of the night, wanting to talk about his dreams and his hopes, wanting so much. Yet her words hit home. Bonnie became frightened over so many things, and it took Marsha to remind him. His daughter needed so much.
He wove his fingers through hers and strolled back to the group and, as they settled, he grinned at his foolish worries. Bonnie hadn’t missed him. Her eyes were aimed at the sky, mesmerized by the glinting fireworks, just as he’d been captivated by the fireworks in his heart.
But his fireworks had dimmed. How could he convince Marsha loving him wasn’t wrong? It was a gift from God, a God who offered him grace. Tonight, he knew the meaning of the word.
“W
here’d you go last night during the fireworks?” Barb asked at breakfast.
Marsha wanted to dodge her question. She couldn’t lie to her, but she didn’t want to tell her everything yet. Not now. “Jeff wanted to talk. With everyone around, it’s been difficult.” That was true. Mostly.
Barb nodded. “You two seem close.”
“We are. We’ve shared a lot in our past. I suppose it’s comfortable to be with someone who watched it all happen with me and understands the pain because he’s had his own.”
“Is it getting serious?”
Marsha frowned, and she wanted to bolt from the room so as not to answer. She shrugged. “We’ve never spoken of love.” That was the truth.
“I hate to see you make a mistake.”
Barb’s words startled her. “A mistake?”
“You’ve been Marsha the caregiver for so long, and it’s easy to creep back into the habit, even when you’re trying not to do it. Bonnie needs you, and now Jeff seems to need you. Is that what the draw is?”
Marsha felt her face sag into a deeper frown. “Barb, I don’t—”
“I could be wrong, but the relationship has happened so fast. I watched you change these past weeks. It’s been like a tractor whose brakes failed on a hill. It just comes barreling down, smashing everything in its path.”
“Smashing everything? I’m not smashing into anything, Barb. I—” Was she worried about their living arrangements? Could that be it or was it a real concern?
Barb held up her hand. “You don’t need to explain to me. I just wanted to tell you what I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to see Bonnie hurt.”
“Neither do I. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.”
“She’s so attached to you and, if the romance is a flash in the pan, then what? You’d hurt a child who is already hurting.”
Marsha stared at the floor. Bonnie. She’d wondered the same, but her emotions had kept her self-focused instead of thinking of her niece. “I appreciate your honesty.” She managed to get that out.
Barb let the matter drop, but Marsha couldn’t. Maybe Barb was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a fleeting relationship. Maybe it could go somewhere if she could let go of her worries.
But Bonnie. She couldn’t allow the child to be hurt by her and Jeff’s actions.
The telephone jarred her thoughts.
Barb answered and Marsha heard her laugh. “I’ll check. Just a minute.” She covered the receiver with her hand. “They want us to go sightseeing. Protar’s House, Cable Bay—Al wants to see the footbridge where the Wildwood Inn was—and then the girls want to climb the sand dunes.”
Hearing Barb say
us,
Marsha contained the surprise in her voice. “That’s fine. When?”
Barb finished the conversation, then meandered back to the kitchen table. “I’m up for it, all but the dunes. They can drop me back here.” She eyed her watch. “They’ll be here in a half hour or so.”
Marsha looked down at her denim shorts and T-shirt and decided to change. She stacked her dishes in the sink, grabbed her final cup of coffee and headed to her room.
Alone, she sank on the bed, amazed at Barb. Confessing her secret had turned her into a new person, all except her pessimism. But Marsha couldn’t dismiss it. Bonnie had made great progress, too, but how would Marsha’s relationship with Jeff affect her niece?
She closed her eyes, thinking of her feelings for Jeff. Were they sincere? Could they be long-term? Forever? She’d asked herself the question numerous times. Still, she’d always come up with the same answer. Her feelings for Jeff were real.
She thought back to how she’d messed up with her desire for purpose. She’d insisted Barb move in with her; she’d nosed her way into Jeff’s business with Bonnie; and she’d even had to struggle not to crowd Jeff with her faith. God had proved He could do the job without her. She cringed. What made her think she had her hand on the reins of anyone’s life?
After slipping out of her shorts, Marsha tugged on her capri pants, light blue with pink-and-white embroidery at the hem. She found a blue-and-white top that looked nice and pulled that over her head, then grasped a comb and dragged it through her new short hair. She loved the shorter style. It made her feel different, just as Jeff’s entrance into her life had made her feel brand new. So why did she feel torn by indecision?
Marsha took a last look in the mirror, then laid the brush on her dresser, grasped her sandals and carried them into the living room.
Barb came out of her bedroom a few minutes later, her hair pulled back, blush on her cheeks and a tint to her lips. She looked good, and Marsha thought she’d even lost some weight since she’d been on the island.
For this occasion, they took two cars. Al drove Marsha’s with Barb and Lindsey, and Marsha rode with Jeff and Bonnie. For the long ride, comfort won out over camaraderie.
When they reached Cable Bay, they headed across the expanse of white sand and wild grasses. Jeff lagged behind and wove his fingers through her. She felt miserable sneaking around behind everyone, and she was sure Jeff had been disappointed in her. She couldn’t help but think of Barb’s earlier comments. Was their relationship a fantasy, and how would it affect Bonnie if it ended? The questions crushed her joy.
With Bonnie on her mind, she turned to Jeff, recalling Bonnie’s incident the evening before. She hoped Jeff had followed through with his promise. “How’d the talk go?”
He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I don’t know if she totally understood what I was saying, but she listened.”
“A little at a time.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you talked with her.”
They reached the shore where the foamy waves dashed against the sand. The concrete piers from the old Wildwood Inn’s foundation could still be seen. Marsha stood back, watching the girls run along the beach, releasing some of their unquenchable energy. Lindsey had softened a little, and Bonnie didn’t seem to have her feelings hurt so often. That was a relief.
Marsha poked a marsh marigold with the toe of her sandal, thinking about returning home and whether things would really fall into place as Jeff had suggested.
Marriage. Was that the direction he was headed? She sensed from his actions he meant making a commitment. If it happened, what would their families say? Jeff’s family was gone, but she still had parents and cousins. Would they think she’d used Jeff to try to fill Don’s shoes? It was far from the truth. They were brothers, but different in so many ways she’d come to realize. Then her nagging thoughts rose again.
Jeff had wandered back to Al. Jeff looked so good standing beside Al, his strong arms gesturing toward the ruins. “This inn was built back when James Strang ruled the island. He declared himself king.”
“What?” Al took a back-step. “A king? Are you kidding?”
Barb stood nearby listening as if it were the first time she’d heard the story.
“No. It used to be a tough place to live, but the murder and mayhem ended in the mideighteenth century.”
“Murder and mayhem?” Al’s eyes widened.
“James Strang arrived on the island and chased off most of the Irish population—my ancestors included. Only a few brave souls stayed here to witness Strang proclaiming himself king.”
Al shook his head in seeming disbelief. “What happened?”
“Some of his disgruntled followers assassinated him, and Strang’s group started leaving, so the Irishmen returned to reclaim their land, including the Sullivans.” He tapped his chest. “That’s my family.”
Marsha grinned at the pride she saw in Jeff’s face.
“I didn’t realize you had historic connections to the island,” Al said, giving him a pat on the back.
Distracted, Marsha tuned out the history lesson since she’d heard it so often. Instead, she watched the easygoing interaction between Jeff and Al and realized she’d been jealous of Jeff’s friendship with Al. Just as Bonnie had begun to show a little jealousy of her time with Jeff. Marsha had bungled into their lives and she’d allowed Bonnie to latch on to her without considering the repercussions. What if she and Jeff couldn’t be more than friends when they returned home?
Why did she feel this way? Unsure of Jeff? Unsure of herself? None of that made any sense. She’d botched things up good. The quicker she returned home, the better they’d all be. Then she would know what would happen between them.
The men seemed to have their fill of Cable Bay, and they headed back to the cars and drove the bumpy roads to Protar’s House, a simple log cabin where the man with a hidden past had doctored the residents with his potions free of charge. While Al found it intriguing, the girls wandered outside and asked every few minutes if they were going to the sand dunes. Marsha began to feel the same way, and she gave Jeff a private poke and suggested they leave.
They returned to Donegal Bay Road, but, when they approached the A-frame, Barb apparently decided to go along to Mount Pisgah, because Al flagged them on. Marsha sat dumbfounded as they headed to Lakeview Road. Her sister had become one surprise after another.
They parked at the base of the seven-hundred-and-thirty-foot sand dune, and the girls scampered from the cars, tore off their shoes and charged up the hill about two yards before the sand slipped from beneath their feet.
“This is too hard,” Bonnie yelled.
“Take it slow.” Jeff took a running start and passed the girls by a few feet, then halted and laughed. “So much for that.”
Marsha tried to dislodge her worries watching Jeff charge on ahead, and finding her sandals impeding her climb, she tossed them below and pushed her way upward, her legs aching as she approached Jeff. When she tumbled into his arms, he laughed at her before kissing her on the nose.
She felt herself wince, not from the kiss but from her weighty thoughts and not wanting to make a display. She hated doubting her feelings about Jeff. If she could open her heart and not hide it from the others, the situation could be wonderful.
Jeff noticed her expression and faltered.
“I’m sorry.” Her head and heart tangled as her feet and legs had knotted in the sand. “I—” She gestured to the others below them.
“I understand,” he said, tousling her hair and shooting her a playful look.
His playfulness distracted her, and she pretended to reach for him, but, instead, gave him a sneaky push. His feet slipped out from under him, and he plopped onto the sand.
“Daddy fell,” Bonnie called, pointing to them from below and making a valiant effort to climb the dune, but, no matter how hard she tried, she lagged behind Lindsey.
Marsha looked beyond the girls. “I thought Al was coming up here.”
Jeff gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He decided to stay back with Barb, I guess.”
She shifted her gaze and saw Barb and Al sitting on a grassy area to the side of the sand dune. Her curiosity itched to know what they were talking about, but she realized too late that, while she was looking at Barb, Jeff had begun his attack. He captured her ankles and gave them a little tug. Marsha tumbled to the ground beside him, their laughter sailing downward.
Barb looked up with a wide smile and pointed at them sitting in the sand.
Marsha waved back, unable to harness her curiosity as she watched Barb and Al. The distraction seemed wonderful. She clambered to her feet and forced her legs to push forward to the top.
Breathless, she gave the magnificent view a sweeping look. It made it worth the climb. In the distance, she saw High Island and others dotting the water. “Look,” she said, pointing toward the rolling water. “It’s beautiful.”
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.