Four

“Fern, we have to talk.” Alissa gripped the telephone receiver, managing to keep her voice under control.

“I think you said all you needed to say yesterday, Alissa. I’m looking for another job.”

Alissa blinked back her surprise. She hadn’t expected her sister to go this far; she needed to get the conflict under control, and now. “Please reconsider. I can’t leave here, so could you come over? Let’s talk and see how we can resolve this. You’re my sister, and I love you. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

The line was silent, and Alissa held her breath for a moment.

“This wasn’t the first time, you know. I can’t seem to please you. You have your ways, and I’m different. I do my best, but apparently I’m not perfect.”

“I’m not perfect either, Fern. I’m so far from it. I made a mistake, and I want to talk about it but not on the phone. Please stop by.”

More silence.

“I’ll come over later. I have an appointment this morning.”

The telephone clicked and went dead. An appointment? Was her appointment regarding a job? Alissa recalled how many times she’d asked herself, even the Lord, if she should let her sister go and hire someone else. Now was her chance, so why did she feel so guilty?

With the receiver still pressed to her ear, Alissa was provoked by the sound of a dial tone and dropped the receiver onto the cradle. She turned and braced her arms against the kitchen island. Had this been her fault? Did she expect too much from Fern? Her thoughts flew back to months after their mother’s death when they’d reached a peak of stress. She and Fern both dealt with her death in different ways. While Alissa turned inward, Fern took her inheritance and went on a spending spree. Worse than that, the image of a man Fern had met filled Alissa’s mind. Anger prickled up her back. How could Fern have been so stupid? She forced the image from her mind, wanting to forget the disaster that had followed.

Awareness replaced the prickle along her back. Alissa knew she had harbored resentment and frustration with Fern during this time. She’d behaved like a teenager who’d been released from her curfew and given too much money to spend. Fern had done everything that went against her better judgment then came back hangdog, wanting forgiveness. Though it was hard, Alissa had granted it.

Or had she?

Forgiveness. The word roared in her ears like a Harley revving outside her door. She’d told Fern she’d forgiven her, but now she wondered if she had. Or had she just begun treating her as if she were a little slow-witted and needed to be pitied?

Fern had made one major mistake, but Alissa looked into her own past and asked herself if she’d been perfect. Never. Not if she were honest. Alissa had asked the Lord to forgive her sins, and she believed He had. Fern had believed her, too, but unlike God who was faithful and true, Alissa realized today she had failed her sister.

“Hello.”

Ross’s voice sailed through the kitchen door, followed by his tap. Every time she heard his voice, her heart did a jig and she had to steady herself. She pushed open the door. “Looking for those lemon bars?”

He grinned. “Now that you mention it.”

She opened the door farther and motioned him inside.

When he stepped in, he paused and looked around. “So this is where you do all your cooking magic. You make the best of everything.”

“I think that’s stretching it a little, but thank you.”

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Nice place you have here. It even smells good.”

So did he, she thought. The warmth of his palm radiated down her arm, and heat rose to her cheeks. She knew she was blushing again, so she moved past him toward the refrigerator where she’d placed a tray of lemon bars. She pulled it out and turned back the wrapper. “Would you like one?”

His hand shot forward almost before she’d finished asking. “How could I refuse? These are my favorite.”

I know clung to her lips, but she held back the admission. She didn’t want to cause herself any more embarrassment as she had with his mother. “How was your day?”

He lowered the lemon bar. “Mother had a wonderful time.”

Alissa placed the tray on the kitchen island and picked up a bar for herself. “That’s not what I asked.” She took a bite, enjoying the sweet-sour tang that pinched her cheeks.

He shook his head as if upset with himself. “It was okay. We took a drive north and then back to the sanctuary again. Today we did see monarchs, but not as many as Mom hoped. At least it was more than yesterday afternoon. I suppose the trees will be filled with them soon enough.”

“Next week it will be glorious. Did you bring a camera from home?”

“I think Mom brought one.”

“Be sure to take photos. I’ve known people who’ve had them enlarged and framed and used them in their homes as artwork. It’s a magnificent sight.”

His gaze searched hers for a moment as her discomfort built.

“I’m sure it is,” he said, his voice sounding throaty.

His heady aftershave enveloped her, and she wanted to turn from the searching look in his eyes. “I should buy one of those photos and hang it in the parlor.” Her voice sounded foreign and far away.

He didn’t say anything.

“Photos can make. . .” Alissa caught herself rambling again with her uneasiness. “I suppose I’d better get some plates filled and the coffee out there for the guests’ afternoon snack.”

“Then I should let you work.” Ross straightened and took the last bite of his lemon bar then pulled a napkin from the holder on the island and wiped his fingers. “Mom’s taking a nap, I think, and I’m going to—”

Before he could finish, Maggie called to Alissa from the other side of the door.

Ross pushed it open, and Maggie smiled at them, holding a large bag imprinted with Garlic Garden.

“So you went to Gilroy, too.”

Maggie stepped toward her. “We did, and I couldn’t resist buying you a present for your pretty kitchen.”

She handed Alissa the gift, and she opened it to find a long garlic braid inside. “Decoration? I can hang it right here, but I’ll cook with it, too. These garlic buds are usable.”

“I know.” Maggie grinned. “And it lasts a long time, the clerk said.”

Alissa opened her arms. “Thank you so much. This was very thoughtful.”

Maggie embraced her then backed away. “Now I want to have a short nap. Ross is taking me out to dinner.” She gave Ross a strange little look then scurried away.

Ross caught the door and paused. “I’ll let you get back to work, as I said earlier. I think I’ll sit out there and read the paper.”

“I have a flavored coffee today. Try it, and let me know what you think.”

He agreed and slipped through the swinging door while she watched it sway back and forth a moment and tried to collect herself.

Getting a grip, Alissa placed the bars on a decorative plate and grasped a carafe of flavored coffee then followed Ross into the parlor area. After she set the carafe and dish on the buffet, she glanced toward Ross. He’d leaned back, his nose buried in the U.S. World News, and she noticed he’d slipped off his shoes and propped his feet on the crossbars of the table in front of the love seat. He looked relaxed and content; Alissa wished she could feel that way, but her problem with Fern still hung in front of her like a carrot. It had become her driving force.

She ambled into the seating area and straightened the magazines, checked the flowers for freshness—they needed redoing—and picked up a paper plate and empty cup sitting on a table. As she turned, Ross spoke to her from behind his reading.

“I notice you had fewer guests today.”

She looked at the back of the newspaper. “This time of year, our guests often check out on Sunday or Monday morning, and then we’re busy again starting Thursday night or Friday and through the weekend.”

He lowered the paper and looked into her eyes. “Then that gives you some free time to enjoy yourself.”

She shrugged. “A little, I guess, but someone still needs to be here.”

“What about Fern?”

Fern. A knot tightened in her neck. “My sister’s been doing some other things, but, yes, she does come in to help when I need her.”

“Are you free this evening?”

His question startled her. “I—I. . . What do you mean?”

He folded the paper and placed it beside him. “I thought maybe you’d like to join us for dinner. We want to go into Monterey to find someplace interesting to eat, and you could help us pick a good one.”

“I can do that,” she said, hearing a tremor in her voice. She tried to rehear what he’d said. Had he actually asked her to dinner?

“You can join us? Great.” He sent her a broad smile.

“No. . .ah, I don’t know about that. I meant I can help you find a good restaurant.”

His smile faded. “You can’t go with us? Mother will be disappointed. She thought it was a good idea.”

His mother. Her nervous anticipation was swept away like crumbs beside the buffet. His mother had wanted him to ask her. She heard herself chuckle and tried to stop, but everything seemed so ludicrous.

“Did I say something funny?”

Alissa grasped her decorum and struggled to tame her giddy feeling. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I laughed at myself.”

He tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. “I’m glad to hear that. No one ever accused me of being humorous.”

“But you are, you know. You’ve made me laugh more than once.”

He tipped his head. “Thank you for the unexpected compliment. Let me know when one of those moments happens. I want to cherish it.”

She laughed at his silliness, happy for the release from her personal gloom. “How about just now?”

He shook his head, a grin stealing to his face, but it was short lasting. He became serious again. “If you change your mind, let me know. It would make my mom very happy.”

“Thanks.” She backed up a step, wanting so badly to sit and talk with him about her struggles with Fern, but it wasn’t right. People just didn’t open their hearts to a customer. “I doubt if I could get help for tonight.” She took another step backward. “Maybe another time.”

He gazed at her a moment, his look probing, then tossed her an accepting nod, leaned back, and picked up the newspaper again. “I’ll be right here.”

Alissa strode back into the kitchen, set the coffee mug in the dishwasher, and tossed the paper plate in the trash. She opened a drawer and grasped the scissors she used in the garden then slipped out the back door. Right now she needed some air and time to think, but as well she wanted to refresh the parlor flowers.

She headed into the garden and studied the flowers in bloom. The stock was beautiful, and she loved the scent. She gathered a mixture of white, rose, and purple flowers, cutting the stems long for the vase, and then moved to the foxgloves, their tiny trumpets in a deep purplish pink playing off the multihued stock. She thought of the mums, hoping she might find some with stems long enough to work with the ones she’d already cut. As she turned toward them, she faltered.

Ross headed across the grass toward her. “Very nice,” he said, eyeing the flowers then gazing into her eyes.

She melted at the sound of his voice. Her mind reeled as she tried to decipher what power this man held over her. “The parlor needed a pick-me-up.”

He stepped toward the gazebo. “So do you, I think.” He motioned for her to follow.

She eyed the bouquet in her arms, knowing the flowers needed to get into water soon, but despite her excuse, she turned and moved toward the gazebo.

Ross sank onto a bench and patted a seat alongside him. “I know those flowers need to get inside, but I have a question, and I’d prefer to talk in private. Some of your guests have already come back for the afternoon.”

Her chest tightened with his admission. Private? What did he want to know that needed privacy? If he wanted to know about good restaurants, she could give him some ideas about them in front of the guests, but she sensed his question was more personal. Confused, she sank beside him on the bench. “How did you know I was out here?”

“Lucky guess.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I tapped on the kitchen door—I knew you’d gone in and you hadn’t come out—and you didn’t answer. Then I recalled you’d looked at the flowers earlier in the guest area so I added two and two.”

A grin sneaked to her mouth. “You’re quite the detective.”

“Only when it’s an important case.”

Important case? She managed not to frown. “Okay, Sam. What’s the question?”

“Sam?”

“Sam Spade.” She’d say anything wacky to lighten her heart.

“Ah.” He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands, his head lowered.

His seriousness gave her pause. “Did I do something wrong?”

He tilted his head upward to look at her. “Nothing at all, but something is wrong.”

“Your room? I’ll talk to the cleaning lady.”

“It’s not the room, Alissa. Something’s up with you. You’re not yourself.” He gave her a look she didn’t understand. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but that’s long enough to see someone’s heart, and yours isn’t in it today. Something’s wrong.”

She gave a nod, amazed he’d sensed that, knowing her for such a short time. “Yes, Your Honor, that’s true.”

“ ‘Detective,’ remember. You don’t have to call me ‘Your Honor.’ ”

A grin tugged at her cheek. “It’s complex and nothing I should share with a guest.”

“I don’t expect you to open your soul. I just thought maybe I could help.”

She shook her head. “It’s something I have to do.” Alissa drew in a deep breath, longing to talk with someone. “In short, I had an argument with my sister, and she’s quit.”

“Quit.” His eyes widened. “Then you’re in a bind.”

“With very tight ropes.”

“Any hope of patching things up?”

Alissa turned sideways and placed the flowers on the other side of the bench beside her. “I’ve asked her to come over tonight and talk.”

“Do you know how to make things better?”

“The problem’s been a long time coming. Right now all I can do is apologize from the bottom of my heart, ask her forgiveness, and hope we can come to an understanding.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” He shifted on the bench to face her more fully. “And you can pray.”

“I’ve done that, but you know, I realized today that I’ve brought some of this on myself. I’ve been blaming Fern, and I think I’m carrying some old grudges that really need to be tossed in the trash can.” She massaged the stress in her neck. “Doing that will be more difficult than admitting it.”

He rested his hand on her arm. “It always is, but it’s worth the try. And with God’s help, things are possible despite our doubts.”

“I know.” She felt more at ease talking with him than she’d expected. Ross had a tender way about him, his voice gentle, his eyes sincere. She turned her neck back and forth, relieving the tension.

Ross lifted his hand and rested it on her neck. She felt his strong fingers massage her taut muscles while a warm, wonderful sensation whispered along her skin. “Thank you. That was nice.”

He lowered his hands. “I hope I wasn’t too forward. I can see you’re stressed.”

Alissa eyed the flowers and the time then gathered the bouquet in her arms. “Have a nice time at dinner with your mom, and maybe one day I can please her by joining you for dinner.”

He placed his hand on her arm again. “It would please me, too, Alissa. Very much.”

Astounded at her growing feelings, she rose, holding the bouquet to her chest. “I’d better get these in water.” She descended the three steps to the ground. “If you want to go somewhere with good seafood, you could try Passionfish up on Lighthouse Avenue in Pacific Grove, or for steaks, try the Whaling Station in Monterey. I can give you directions.” She gave him a wave and headed inside, her heart and mind battling with the feelings she’d discovered so recently.

Inside the kitchen, she paused, and in the hush, Alissa prayed. “Lord, help me to understand what’s going on with my emotions. Is this You or just passion sneaking from the chambers of my heart? Help me to know the difference. You know this scares me, but I want to put my trust in You.”

❧

In her apartment, Alissa heard footsteps outside her door. When the knob turned, she knew it was Fern. Her sister gave a quiet rap on the doorjamb then swung it open.

“Come in,” Alissa said, not needing to since Fern had already stepped over the threshold. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me.”

A slight frown wrinkled her sister’s brow. “You’re welcome.”

Alissa felt tongue-tied. “How did the appointment go?” Bad question, but it was out.

“I had my hair trimmed.” She reached up and touched it.

Relief washed over Alissa as she saw her sister’s shorter hair. “It looks nice. I like it.” She motioned to a chair. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No. I’m fine.” Fern eased into the chair and finally leaned back. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

The room fell silent, and Alissa tore into her confused thoughts to come up with the right thing to say. All her thinking that afternoon had twisted her stomach into a knot.

“Okay,” Fern said, not adding anything else.

Alissa grasped her careening thoughts clashing in her mind and tried to put them in order. “First I want to apologize. I have been critical, and I need to monitor that. You know how important this business is to me, but you’re more important, Fern. We’re sisters.”

Fern’s head shot up as if she’d been bopped by a tennis ball. “We are, but I realize this is your business and I’m an employee.”

“That doesn’t excuse my behavior. We need to decide what’s really important to the business and how we can work together without having this happen.” Honesty struggled up from the depths of her heart. “I started thinking today about what I’ve been doing. I keep going into the mistakes you made in the past, I think—but please know I’ve made many of my own—and I’m not giving you credit for maturity and wisdom. I’m also not doing what I said and forgiving you for losing so much of your inheritance. It’s really not my business, and it’s not fair to you.”

Fern sat quietly, but Alissa could almost see her mind sifting through what she’d said. She finally lifted her gaze. “Thank you.” She fidgeted a moment before continuing. “I’ll admit I’ve made mistakes, too. I know it’s important to get the registration right. I was careless the other day when I messed up the one for the Cahills. I’m happy you had the room. I would have truly made a problem for you if the room hadn’t been available.”

Alissa studied her sister’s repentant face. “I think the Lord looked over that situation. I’m sorry about the cookies. I pride myself in having only homemade, but I can’t expect you to do the baking. You did what you thought was right and bought them from a bakery. I’m sure they were like homemade, but it was my pride.”

“I’ll try to remember how important it is to you, Alissa, but you know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should strike out on my own. I can’t be dependent on you all my life. It will just add to your resentment. I had money, and if I’d been careful, I would still have a savings and finances to fall back on, rather than need income to supplement what I wasted.”

What he wasted filled Alissa’s mind, but she muzzled the thought. “It’s reassuring when you’re here. I know you’re family, and I can count on you to be honest and to treat people well. You’ve always done that. Anyway you’re my sister.”

“But that shouldn’t be your purpose in having me here. If I’m not doing the job you want, then I should be asked to leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I think we can work this out. It’s good for me to soften my criticism. I handled the cleaning lady who messed up a few things better than I handled you.”

Fern’s mouth turned upward in a slight grin. “That’s because we’re family, and we have to love each other.”

Alissa rose and put her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “We don’t have to love each other, but we do.”

“We do,” Fern said, returning her hug.

“Can we pray together, Fern? How long has it been since we bowed our heads together anywhere other than for a blessing at a meal?”

“A long, long time.”

Alissa sat on the arm of the chair and joined hands with Fern. They closed their eyes and bowed their heads, asking the Lord to bless their relationship and to give them wisdom to handle problems before they got out of hand. At the end of the prayer, she raised her head and saw moisture in Fern’s eyes and felt tears in her own. She loved her sister, and Fern loved her. With God’s help, they could make things right.