Sixteen

The new girl, the one Jill refused to call “April’s replacement,” was catching on faster than April would have thought. Chrissy Leibner was fresh out of school and as bouncy as Tigger. But her three-toned blond hair and fast, breathy words gave the wrong impression. After four days with her, April was astonished by her emotional and spiritual maturity. Jill had chosen well.

And it bugged April.

“Good job, Chrissy.”

The Thursday afternoon spot, Chrissy’s first solo on-air shift, had just finished. Her transitions had been smooth and witty.

“It’s really an honor to work with you, April.” Chrissy set her headphones on the desk.” I looked up KPOG on the Internet. People love your show.” Her pert little nose wrinkled. “That’s not all they’re talking about.”

“I don’t have time to read blogs. Do I want to know what people are saying?”

“They’re talking about a guy who keeps calling your show and whether or not he’s the Channel Five weatherman. Some people think there’s a thing between you two. Is there?”

“Is that what they think?” April stood, hugging her laptop to her chest. “Let’s call it a day.”

❧

Brenda was eight minutes late.

April did a mini–drum solo on the tablecloth as she memorized the Sage Stoppe’s menu. Whole grilled lemon sole with lemongrass butter, roast cod with spring onion mash and soy butter sauce, rib eye steak with béarnaise sauce, and thin cut—

“You must be April.”

Dark eyes, olive skin, and thick, shampoo-commercial mahogany hair. The almost-wedding picture had not done Brenda Cadwell justice. April took the bangle-crowned hand and shook it, wondering as she did how the woman’s fingers could be icy with the outside temperature nudging ninety.

“Thank you for taking the time, Brenda.”

“My pleasure. It’s so much easier to ask questions in person, isn’t it?”

April nodded, suddenly wondering which one of them would be asking the questions. She’d been trying for a week to set up a meeting with Brenda and KOEK’s station manager, who’d been out of town when she’d toured the station. When Brenda finally returned one of her many calls, she’d said it would work best for her to meet in Pine Bluff on Friday. She had some “business near there.” The manager, apparently, was an extremely busy man.

April smiled, covering her irritation. “How was the drive?”

“Oh, you know how it is. Well, maybe you don’t, living up here where there isn’t any traffic.”

“I went to school and worked in the Cities.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Brenda picked up the menu. “What’s good here?”

“The fish chowder is to die for.”

“Sounds heavy. I’ll have a salad.”

Their waitress, in a white apron and traditional Cornish bonnet, approached them and took Brenda’s order first.

“I’ll have the spinach salad with grilled chicken instead of the bacon. No croutons. Dressing on the side. And a glass of Perrier.” She pushed her water goblet to the edge of the table.

“There will be an extra charge for the chicken.”

Brenda’s fingers fluttered. “Of course.”

The young waitress nodded and smiled as she scribbled. “And how about you, Miss Douglas? Sorry we don’t have chocolate fondue.” She winked. “I heard you guys were getting serious,” she whispered.

“My life is a fishbowl, Sherry.” April winked back. “So the chowder would be fitting.”

“Cup or bowl?”

“Make it a bowl. And can we have a bread basket with extra butter?”

Sherry headed for the kitchen, and April opened her notebook. Her lips parted, but Brenda spoke first.

“I bet you haven’t been able to sleep a wink or talk about anything but your new show.”

“I’ve got pages of ideas and questions. Some of them can probably only be answered by the people I’ll be directly working with.”

Brenda’s thumbnail creased the crisply pressed fold of the cloth napkin next to her plate. “Mr. Palmer will be back next week. He took his daughter on a graduation trip to Italy.”

“Seems strange that he’d hire somebody he hadn’t met.” There, she’d verbalized the loudest question in her head.

A corner of the cloth napkin bent under Brenda’s finger. The long nail creased it, again and again. “He trusts me. So. . .is Seth excited about your new opportunity?”

I wouldn’t exactly call it excitement. “Of course. He’s even come up with some suggestions.”

Brenda took a long draught of the lemon water she’d pushed aside earlier. “Knowing Seth, I imagine his vision is probably a little more ‘out there’ than what you’ll be doing.” She laughed and dabbed her lips with her napkin.

“What do you mean?” April rubbed her right thumb against her left.

“If Seth were to design a show for you, I don’t think you’d have the kind of freedom you need, April.”

“What do you think he’d do to squelch my ‘freedom’?”

“He’d insist that your guests all be Christians whose stories have happy endings. As you and I know, that kind of format would turn away a lot of potential viewers.”

April leaned forward on her elbows. “When we spoke on the phone. . .you. . .” She let the sentence trail off when she realized that Brenda’s wide brown eyes were fixed on something other than her.

“Seth!” Though their tones were as different as night and day, both women spoke in tandem. “What are you doing here?”

❧

If protecting April meant making her mad, so be it. If protecting April meant making Brenda mad. . .he smiled extra-wide as he shook her cold fingers and pulled out the chair next to April. On the way to the restaurant, he’d thought back to the Sunday school lesson on the twelfth chapter of Romans he’d facilitated back in May—Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody.

Lord, change my heart.

It was tempting to pretend he wasn’t there for what both women knew he was. But that would have fallen short of doing what was right in the eyes of everybody. “I have a few questions about April’s new job.”

He’d known ahead of time that April’s reaction could have gone either way, so he was disappointed, but not surprised, when her lips curved up but her eyes held no sparkle. He’d seen that look before. Brenda, wearing the smile he’d seen her practice in the vanity mirror in his car, turned to April. “Are you comfortable with him being here?”

“Of course.”

She could have just said yes. She could have hesitated. “Of course” was a good sign. The waitress approached and asked in a giggly voice if he was ready to order. He asked for coffee and said he’d just order dessert when the women did, knowing full well that in Brenda’s mind sugar was lumped in with the seven deadly sins.

April turned to him. “We haven’t had a chance to get to my questions yet. Maybe yours will be answered at the same time mine are.”

Was that a nice way of telling him to be quiet? Not a problem. He had no intention of monopolizing the conversation or making April feel inadequate in any way. He just wanted to be sure that Brenda didn’t evade. Brenda was an expert evader. For the thousandth time, he wondered why he’d put up with that until it was almost too late. He smiled at April and then turned it on Brenda. “Great.”

“What I want to talk about is format. Everything else was clearly outlined in the contract.” April picked up her pen and pulled off the cap. “How involved are you in programming?” In a seemingly unconscious gesture, April shoved the cap back on her pen. “I called the station yesterday.” She stared, letting her words sink in. “Until then, I was under the impression that you worked for KOEK.”

A 100-watt smile beamed at April. “I do work for the station. I’m not employed on-site.”

“So you’re a consultant?”

Brenda took a sip—and then another—from her half-finished water glass. “Among other things, I’m a recruiter. When Seth told me about your idea for a show, I knew just where you were needed.” The megasmile flipped from April to Seth and back again. “So let me hear your ideas, April. We need to start brainstorming about promotion.”

Seth had had enough. His fingers closed around the handle of his butter knife, and he pointed it at Brenda. But just as his lips formed the first letter, April leaned forward. “I need some details. This is all way too vague for my comfort, Brenda. The pay is better than I’d expected, and the benefits are wonderful, but now that I know you’re not employed at KOEK, I’ve got some huge concerns. I need to see in writing the things you promised—that I’ll be in charge of picking my own guests, my own topics. And I need to know now.”

Way to go, April. Seth high-fived her in his head. As soon as he had the chance, he’d apologize for barging in. Clearly, his presence wasn’t needed at this meeting. This girl could hold her own.

Brenda nodded. “I’d have the same concerns if I were you.” She bent down and pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse, applying it without need of a mirror.

He’d forgotten how much that irritated him. “Brenda, just spell it out for her.” April didn’t need a knight on a white charger, but he couldn’t help trying to play the role.

“I understand what—” Music blared from the floor near Brenda’s feet. She closed the lipstick tube and picked up her purse, sliding her hand in and out. “Excuse me.” She slid the cover up on her slim ruby red phone. “Hello. Oh no. Of course. No, not a problem. I’m on my way.” Her lip did the fake pouty thing he’d once found so appealing. “I’m so, so sorry. I have to run.” Her hand reached across the table to April. “I’ll call you on Tuesday.”

Her elegant hand reached out to him. “So good to see you, Seth. I’m so sorry I can’t stay, but we’ll talk soon.” Her smile could melt lead. But it didn’t touch him.

With her fingers in his grasp, he stared, letting her know he’d seen right through her. “Lots of big emergencies in the television business, aren’t there?”

Her eyes glazed him before she pivoted on spiky heels and strode out.

The waitress appeared with their coffee and Brenda’s bottled water. Seth stood up and moved to the vacated chair across from April and slid his coffee cup toward him as he asked the confused waitress what Brenda had ordered.

“Spinach salad, dressing on the side, no croutons, chicken breast instead of bacon.” The girl in the apron and massive bonnet seemed to be struggling to rattle off the instructions in an even voice. Apparently, she’d sized up Brenda in short order.

“Heap on some bacon and pour the dressing on top, and I’ll eat it.” He turned his attention on April. “Mind if I join you for lunch?”

April looked as though she’d just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the county fair. “I. . .guess.” Parallel lines formed above her nose. “That remark about emergencies was rude.”

“Yes, it was. I had every intention of being polite, but. . . .” He lifted his coffee cup. “If I were a betting man, I’d bet there was nobody on the other end when her phone rang.”

“Seth!”

It was the second time she’d used his name in half an hour. Was he ever going to hear her say it again without the exclamation point? “Brenda downloaded a program that rings your phone to get you out of sticky situations. She hit the ‘hot key’ when she reached for her lipstick.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Oh yes, I do. “Did anything get settled in your mind in that. . .brief encounter?”

“No.”

He didn’t like seeing her embarrassed. He put both hands around his cup to keep from touching her hand in a gesture she might perceive as patronizing. “So what’s next on the dream list?”

“Thank you.” A genuine smile lit her eyes. So he’d been right to change the subject. “I have to put off anything that costs money since it’s going to cost me something to move. . . .”

“Can we leave that little fact out of our conversation? I’m being an ostrich on that subject.”

The waitress appeared with a bowl of soup, a bread basket, and Seth’s salad. When she left, April reached across the table and held her hands out for his. “I’ll pray.”

Her warm hands hugged his. “Lord God, thank You for this food and this time. Thank You for the way You meet all our needs. You are in the details, Lord, and we trust You.”

She opened her eyes and the deepness of the blue was once again too deep, but he couldn’t have let go of her hands if his life depended on it—nor could he remember what they’d been talking about before she’d reached for his hands. He fumbled for a coherent sentence. “Will you make it home in time to watch the weather tonight?”

Her thumbs swept across his knuckles. “I always make it home in time for you.”