Violet sat in the dining room fingering the scarf in Chase’s box, apparently oblivious to Chase’s carefully schooled gaze. He’d brought the box down to let her look at it one more time before he left in the morning.
“This is such a treasure,” Violet said. “I am so thankful it came to us and thankful you shared it with me.”
He smiled and gestured at her with his mug before taking a deep drink of his coffee. “I know why I’m thankful for it. It brought you out of your shell with me.”
She felt heat flooding her cheeks and looked down at the table. “I’m better inside my own head. I know that about myself. People who realize it always try to force my hand, but I’m happier not being forced.” She looked at him again. “It’s part of what makes me write, I think, because it gives me a way to express myself that I’d never do in front of people.”
“I get that. I’m not criticizing. What I mean is that I recognize and understand it. My mother’s an artist.” He reached over and covered her slim fingers with his strong hand. “I think she has a similar inside voice, though she is far from being an introvert.”
She wanted to pull her hand back but relaxed and just enjoyed the feel of his skin against hers. “I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.”
His serious eyes bored into hers. “Violet, nothing could be more the exact opposite of what I think than that.” He sat back again, pulling his hand away. “Ever thought about writing full time instead of just in snatches?”
“Oh, all the time.” She dreamed of buying a cross-country train ticket and spending weeks of travel with a laptop in front of her. She thought of her bank account of her saved royalties from all of her books, thinking that one day she’d have the courage to just leave and make that journey. “It’s just flights of fancy. I have responsibilities. The Pearl is more than just a job, you know. It’s family.”
“I know about family.” He put the lid back on the box. “But if what’s best for you is something other than this, then your family should back you.”
Slim fingers of emotion gripped her chest and squeezed. She cleared her throat and stood. “I have never wavered on my commitment here. You’re the one who wavered with your commission. Just because you made a different decision than what you thought you wanted, you’re suddenly suggesting I give up everything in my life? Hardly fair, Chase.”
“I never suggested anything.” He stood, too, which meant that he suddenly towered over her. “I want you to be happy.”
“Happy? I’m happy. I have been happy as long as I can remember. Fulfilled, happy, and a steady cog in a smoothly operating machine that is my family’s inn. Why do you think I’m unhappy?”
He picked up the box. “I’ve seen the difference in you when you’re able to sneak a few hours of writing into your day. You’re more relaxed. You’re at ease. You’re happier. So, asking you if you’ve ever considered writing full time has nothing at all to do with me or my commission with the United States Army, and everything to do with a curiosity about the woman I happen to care for a lot.”
She shook her head. “If I had the freedom to write full time, I’d turn into a total hermit.”
He grinned. “Well, first of all, how do you know? You’ve never tried it. You’re just making an assumption. Secondly, that couldn’t happen if you were with someone who understood you and supported you a hundred percent.”
Before she could respond, he left the room. The door slid shut behind him.
“Well!” she gasped, then rushed after him. When she got to the front room, she saw no trace of him.
“You should go after him,” Scarlett said from the couch. She sat curled up in the corner, reading the edited manuscript of her ninth book Violet had given her that morning. She’d paused in writing the ending to number ten to work on the edits she received from her editor last week and finished applying them about three this morning. “He went upstairs.”
“I’m not going after him.” She threw herself onto the couch next to her sister. “What good would it do to defend my thoughts. It doesn’t change that he’s leaving in the morning.”
“True. He’ll still call a cab and make his way to the airport. Doesn’t mean he has to go alone.”
Violet snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Her sister raised an eyebrow but went back to reading. “Leave me alone. I want to find out whodunnit.”
Restive, she wandered downstairs and into her Gran’s room. Gran sat in front of the television, Donny cradled in her arms. “Hey, there,” Violet greeted, sitting on the ground next to the rocking chair.
“Hey, there, Violet,” Gran replied. Violet thought she had finished speaking and so she felt slightly surprised when Gran said, “Exactly why in the world are you down here when your young man up there is leaving in the morning?”
She sighed and looked at the carpet. “Because he’s leaving in the morning.” Grandma Vi put a hand on the top of her head. Without warning, a sob escaped her chest. “Gran, why am I not good enough?”
“Child, what does that mean?”
“He had a chance to stay here, but he’s going. Why am I not enough to keep him here?”
“Violet, loved one, you’ve known him for six whole weeks. Hardly a time-frame to make lifelong decisions. But, this is the twenty-first century. Distance means nothing these days, not like it used to. You still have time to get to know him.”
Grandma Vi was right, but it didn’t make the ultimate issue any better. “Get to know him even more? He’s going to stay in the army, Gran. It’s what God has called him to do. He told me that.”
“What do you think?”
Violet grudgingly nodded. “I can see it. Especially after the way he handled Don. He’s strong, but he isn’t violent. He’s clever, but he isn’t devious. He’s willing to lay down his life for our nation like his grandfather and great-grandfather before him. He’s a soldier. It’s in his blood.”
Grandma Vi was silent for several seconds before Gran said, “That’s rough. But that doesn’t stop you from going to him.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. I can’t leave you.”
“You can leave me.” Gran put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to make eye contact. “This house, it’s paid for. Nothing says we have to keep it at all, much less keep it as an inn. Your sister’s catering business is enough to keep her happy if we don’t stay open. But, if we do, we have Wilma now. She’s not planning on leaving any time soon.”
“So, I’m that easily replaced? Is that it?” Tears fell unbridled down her cheeks and feelings of worthlessness overwhelmed her.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It would never be the same here without you. But, the work will still get done. The importance is the happiness of my granddaughter at the end of the day.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” she whispered. “But he’s willing to leave me, and you’re willing to replace me.”
“Violet Pearl, you take that back.” When Violet didn’t immediately take it back, Grandma Vi slapped the arm of her rocking chair, risking waking the sleeping infant.
“Fine.” Grandma Vi sat back. “Why don’t you think of you, just once, instead of him or me? Think of what you want and what you need without considering all of us first. Then you’ll know what you need to do.”
Thoughts overwhelmed her. Ideas, possibilities. She rose from the floor and kissed Donny on the head, then hugged Grandma Vi’s neck. “I love you, Gran.”
“I love you, child. Now, get! Before you wake up this sleeping baby.”
She walked slowly back up the stairs and got to the first floor just as Chase came down. He wore his Texas A&M shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. “You caught me just before I have to leave,” he said.
“Leave?” Panic fluttered to life inside her chest. “I thought you didn’t have to leave until tomorrow morning.”
His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I have the end of camp thing this afternoon. Remember? We’re tailgating at the stadium. Scarlett marinated steaks for me to take.”
Feeling stupid, she flushed with heat. “Right. Sorry.”
Scarlett spoke up from her perch on the couch. “Need me to get the meat for you? Or can you find it in the fridge?”
“Oh, no worries. I got it. Thanks.” He pulled a folded stack of bills out of his pocket. “Where do you want the payment?”
Scarlett stood and walked to them, holding her hand out palm up. “I’ll take it.” As she stuffed the money into her back pocket, she went back to the couch. “You have a car coming?”
“Yeah. Should be here any time.” He left them, disappearing through the dining room door. A few seconds later, he came back out, carrying a covered aluminum pan. “This?” Scarlett looked up from the book and gave a thumb’s up. He turned to Violet. “Can you come with me tonight?”
She smiled, pushing aside feelings of hurt and confusion, and said, “I’d love to.”
Chase sat in the folding camp chair and watched Violet watch the crowd around her. Her eyes shifted from people group to people group, unabashedly eavesdropping and staring. He wished he could hop inside her head and watch her people watch, see what she saw, get the processed information to see where she would take it.
“Coach,” Andrew Lighthouse said, holding a can of root beer in one 9-year-old hand and a s’more in the other. “I really liked playing football. I hope I can play this year.”
He leaned forward to be eye level with him. “You have talent, Andrew. Your dad and I talked about it. He’s going to get you started next year, for fifth grade.”
“Will you be back next summer?”
“I have to go back to the army, bud. Next year, I won’t have so much leave saved up. If I come back, it won’t be for the whole camp.”
He analyzed those words and realized he was totally fine with that. He’d drained his accrued leave for this six-week camp. Next year, he wouldn’t have more than thirty days, barring having to take time off for anything else.
“Well, hopefully, I’ll see you again. Bye!” He rushed off, unconcerned about leave or responsibilities of the adults around him. Chase looked over at Violet again.
Jacob walked up, so Chase pushed out of the chair and held his hand out. “Jacob? Thanks for inviting me. This was really an impressive camp you put together.”
“Don’t thank me. I should thank you. Half the parents signed up because your name was on the registration. I owe you.” He looked at Violet to ask after his daughter. “How’s Wilma? Does she need anything?”
Violet looked at him for a moment blankly then blinked. “Wilma. Right. Wilma’s good. Gran’s paying her full time, now, and she’s in my parents’ suite, so she doesn’t need a thing. What’s the word on Don?”
“No bail. Judge ruled he might be a flight risk.”
Violet laughed. “Same judge that sits next to your section at the Aggie games?”
“Well, now, I don’t see what that has to do with it,” he drawled, but he neither confirmed nor denied.
Chase shook his head. “Glad to see everything worked out for her. I know that was scary.”
Jacob turned to him. “I heard what you did. Looks like I owe you more than one.”
“Not even kind of. Any good man would have done the same.”
“Maybe. But you were the good man that took care of my baby girl. I owe you, Chase.”
Chase couldn’t contain himself. “Any man that could hit a nursing mother is scum. I just restrained him until the cops got there. That was easy.” He whispered, “It was harder to restrain myself.”
Jacob slapped Chase on the shoulder. “How did you manage? Not sure I could have held back.”
“By reminding myself that drawing his blood doesn’t fix anything. The only thing that can ever fix anything in this world is the blood of Christ.”
Jacob nodded. “Well, I have a feeling Don is going to have to get into a program. Maybe he’ll realize that there really is a higher power. He was a good man, once upon a time. Maybe he can find his way back.”
Chase waved at a family leaving the parking lot. “Looks like the end of camp. Do you need help cleaning up?”
“Nope. I have the varsity football team ready to hit it. We have to wait until the grills cool, so they’re going to come and scarf down any remaining chow and then break it down for me.” Violet stood and hugged Jacob. “Take care, cousin. I’ll see y’all tomorrow at church.” He held his hand out for Chase to shake. “You have safe travels back to paradise. Thanks again for all you’ve done.”
“Hope I can come back next year, at least for a week or two.”
Jacob grinned. “I’ll surely invite you, son.”
Chase held out his hand and Violet slipped hers into his gentle grasp. Her hand felt small, delicate, kind of cool, and exactly like it belonged there. She fell into step with him as they walked out of the parking lot. “Nice night for a walk. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
She leaned into his arm as they walked. “I feel like you’ve been here way longer than six weeks. After you leave I reckon life will be just about as exciting as a mashed-potato sandwich.”
“Violet Pearl, I love—love—the way you talk. I love the sweet sound of your voice and that east Texas drawl and every funny little metaphor.” He brought her hand up and brushed his lips over the back of it.
“Oh, my goodness!” Violet giggled, feeling her cheeks burn and her smile widen.
“Wish I didn’t have to go. I was at Pearl Harbor, standing right there above the Arizona where my…”
Chase fell silent. Instead of replying or prodding him, she briefly rested her head against his arm. They walked in silence for several minutes. The campus area was quiet in the summer night. “Ever consider the fact that your great-grandfather and your grandfather walked these very same streets?”
He pondered the question. “I thought about my grandfather sitting in the same classrooms when I went to school here, but the walking never occurred to me.”
“My family has lived here since it was founded. One of my great-great-however many great grandfathers taught at the original college. Sometimes, I think about the history in these streets. I think about the people who came and went from my home. Imagine! So many people. So many lives. I wish sometimes I could sit in a chair and let the time revolve around me, letting me observe the past exactly the way it happened. Which is silly, I know.”
“It’s not silly. It’s what you give people with your books. I feel like I know more about what 1944 New York City is like because of the way you wrote it.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. Except that it’s all assumption. I’ve never even been to New York.”
He walked several steps before he decided to say it. “So, go. Go to New York. Make it real. Feel the weather and the atmosphere. Eat the food. Smell the smells. Listen to the people.”
He watched a glow light up from inside of her. “Maybe I will.” Almost as soon as it lit up, it faded. She looked up at him and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But probably not. I’m good with being here. This is where I belong.”
“You have roots here.” They passed the restaurant where they had lunch that Sunday. Around a corner, they passed her church. “I have roots in Boston. My family’s there. Being in the military, with duty stations and deployments, doesn’t take my roots away. I’m still close to my family.”
Violet didn’t reply. She went into her own head, and he could almost feel her leave his presence. Another two blocks and he held the gate open for her. They started to walk up the path to the front porch, but Violet stopped suddenly, then started pulling him across the yard. She stopped them by a tree that had some old boards nailed to the trunk.
“My daddy built us a tree house when I was eight and Scarlett was barely seven. A bad storm came through about five years ago and knocked it down. The tree had grown, and it didn’t have the right purchase anymore. Many times I’ve contemplated taking these boards down, but I couldn’t bear to remove the last of the evidence of the tree house. So I keep them, silly as it is, to remember my dad, and the treehouse that only I can still see.”
He looked at the green leaves between him and the blue sky, watched them dance in the evening breeze. “Your dad isn’t in this tree, or the wood nailed to it, Violet. It’s just a thing. It isn’t your dad.”
He looked down at her, at her violet-blue eyes and spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “He’s in you, in your sister, in your hearts and minds, in your DNA, running through your blood. The place and the things in the place, they don’t have much to do with it.”
He waved a hand in the general direction of west. “It’s how I can feel the security of my love for my family even thousands of miles away from them. It doesn’t matter where I am. My memories, my intentions, and my feelings for them are what matters.”
He brushed her hair behind her ear. Violet briefly closed her eyes, as if savoring his touch. He continued. “I’m not asking you to run away with me to Hawaii, Violet. I’m only asking if you’re willing to open the door to discovering a relationship that might one day find you and me together, wherever we are, making our own family. With today’s technology, we can keep this thing between us going.”
She stared into his eyes and Chase thought he might burst with needing to know her thoughts. He watched her eyebrows furrow, and something fell into the pit of his stomach. He could almost hear the rejection before she spoke it, but her next words surprised him.
“Okay, so, you know, when I write? I can always edit the words. I can edit them to say exactly what I want them to say before anyone sees them. With you, right here, right now, I’m trying to edit in my head before I open my mouth, so I don’t just babble and sound like some kind of crazy person every time I talk to you.”
“Violet, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“I’m crazy about you.”
His teasing tone made her grin, and his deep voice distracted her. Violet could not afford distraction just now. She waved her hands as if erasing a large chalkboard. “Stop for a second. I just need to think about what I’m going to say, so you hear me the way I want you to hear me. Understand how I feel. I just… I just really want to be clear.”
The corner of Chase’s lips twitched. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to, Violet Pearl.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I cannot contemplate all that without knowing whether I can function and write away from my home. I’ve never done it before. It’s possible that everything I am is tied to this place, and that my home is what inspires me and feeds my creativity. I won’t know until I try.”
She reached up and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m not willing to try with you and fail, to hurt you and hurt me that way. So, I’ve made a decision. I decided I’m going to go to New York for a while. Meet my agent face-to-face. Have meetings with my publisher. Buy a hot dog from a street cart. Eat a slice of Brooklyn pizza. Play tourist for a week or two, ride the subway, then walk the streets I write about every day.”
Happiness for her flooded his heart. “When did you decide this?”
“When I saw the board nailed to the tree and realized how much I’ve clung to this place with a fear that I cannot explain and really don’t know the source of.” This time the smile lit her eyes. “I’d like to keep in touch with you. I’d like to talk to you, video chat, know more about you. But I don’t know how much I can give you until I know what I am capable of.”
“Well, I’ve got to know some things about you,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. “I believe you are capable of so much more than you even know. And like I said, I’ll wait as long as you need me to, Violet Pearl. Forever, if that’s what it takes.”
She laughed, and her arms slipped around his neck, as welcome as a warm scarf on a cold winter day, as his lips covered hers.