Scott had been listening for Jess, and when he heard her key in the lock he rose and headed for the foyer. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her about her parents’ visit, but he would rather she heard about it from him first.
“Someone’s been cooking,” she said with a surprised look, sniffing appreciatively as she leaned down to deposit her briefcase and purse on the floor. “It kind of smells like my mom’s pot roast.”
Scott took a deep breath. “It is.”
Jess froze for a second, then slowly rose and turned to him in dismay.
“She and your dad stopped by a little while ago to drop it off.”
Jess reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, her eyes troubled. “I’m sure that wasn’t very pleasant for you.”
He shrugged. “I survived. Frankly, I’m more worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I can handle it.”
She was putting up a good front, he acknowledged, but her voice lacked conviction and she was clearly agitated. He watched as she moved into the living room and stopped to stare unseeingly out the window, one hand on her hip, the other massaging her temple.
“It’s my own fault for waiting to tell them,” she said with a sigh. “I was going to break the news when I went to their house for dinner on Thursday, hoping that in a relaxed atmosphere they might be a bit more receptive. But that was just wishful thinking. They have strong feelings on the subject. Especially Dad.” She turned to Scott with a frown. “What did they say?”
“Your mother was pleasant enough,” he hedged.
“Which means Dad wasn’t,” she said flatly, dropping onto the couch. “Why am I not surprised?” Wearily she passed a hand over her eyes. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”
Scott watched her silently, read her inner struggle in her eyes. It wasn’t fair to make her choose between him and her parents. He didn’t have the right to impose that burden on her. Much as he wanted to extend his stay, he couldn’t do so if it made life more difficult for her. He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to cause you any more problems, Jess. I can be out of here in an hour.”
She frowned. “Did you find an apartment?”
“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of days.”
Slowly she shook her head, and her chin tilted up ever so slightly. “No. I offered you a place to stay, and I’m not backing down. It’s my decision, not theirs,” she said defiantly. “As much as I love Mom and Dad, they’re wrong about this. It’s my life. I have to live it as I think best, whether they agree or not.” She rose and strode toward the door, pausing only to reach for her purse. “I’ll be back in a little while. It’s time Mom and Dad and I talked this thing out.”
It had not gone well, Jess thought despondently as she got into her car. Actually, “abysmal” might be a better way to describe the encounter with her parents. Although her mother had been somewhat receptive, her father had stubbornly refused to listen to anything that conflicted with his firmly entrenched opinions, summarily dismissing the notion that Scott might truly have repented and changed. When their “discussion” degenerated to the point of becoming a shouting match, Jess had simply walked out.
She drove aimlessly for a time, too upset to return to the condo and face Scott but with no other destination in mind—until she suddenly thought about the meditation garden he’d designed for his church. She’d made a point to note the name of the church on his drawing, thinking that she might stop by sometime to see in person what she had so admired on paper. And suddenly this seemed as good a time as any. A contemplative, quiet place to think was just what she needed.
When Jess pulled into the deserted parking lot a few minutes later, dusk was starting to descend. A slight breeze gently stirred the warm air, giving the illusion of coolness, and the birds were just beginning their twilight song. She made her way toward the back of the church, pausing in admiration when she turned the corner. The rough pencil sketch had hardly done justice to the garden Scott had designed, she realized as her appreciative gaze swept over the scene.
A natural-wood gazebo stood gracefully on a small rise and was reflected in the surface of the placid lake beside it. A curving path led to the structure, weaving in and out among banks of glorious flowers that spilled down in welcoming array. As Jess slowly made her way toward the lake, she felt enveloped in color and harmony—the result of expert design, she realized. And by the time she stepped into the gazebo, her tension had eased considerably.
Jess sank onto the wooden bench that rimmed the inside of the structure and thought about the creator of this oasis of peace and harmony and tranquillity. Her husband. The man she had once loved with a passion that had seemed destined to endure for all time. But in the end, it hadn’t been strong enough to survive hardship and tragedy. Oh, the passion had been. No question about that. But the love…that was different. Love was so much more than just hormones. It was trust and consideration and respect and communication and sharing and commitment. It was putting the other person’s needs above your own. It was supporting them and believing in them even when the world didn’t.
And it was forgiving.
Jess drew a long, shaky breath. The Scott who had emerged from the gray walls of prison was a man who, under other circumstances, she could easily fall in love with, she acknowledged. But they weren’t beginning a relationship from scratch. They had a history together, one filled with pain and loss and tragedy. And so their future very much depended on forgiveness. Hers.
“Jess?”
She turned, startled. “Reverend Young!”
The minister closed the distance between them, pausing at the edge of the gazebo. “I’m sorry. Am I disturbing you?”
She managed a wry smile. “Relatively speaking, no.”
“May I join you, then?”
“Of course.”
He stepped up into the gazebo and sat across from her, gazing out over the lake. “This is a great spot, isn’t it? I usually come back here for a few minutes to refresh my soul whenever I stop by the church. Scott did a great job.” He paused for a moment to savor the view, then turned back to her. “By the way, I spoke with him a little while ago,” he said. At her surprised look, he smiled. “We stay in close touch. I told him when he got out that I would always be available as a sounding board, and I’m happy to say he takes me up on the offer regularly. He told me about his encounter with your parents. And that you had gone to talk with them. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
Jess sighed. “No.” Now it was her turn to gaze out over the lake. “They’re having a hard time understanding why I’ve let Scott back into my life. And frankly, so am I. I’ve hated him for four years, and yet I invite him to stay at my condo.” She shook her head, bewildered. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It might,” Reverend Young said mildly.
Jess turned to him with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it all depends on whether the Scott you invited to stay at your condo is the same Scott who went to prison.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “In some ways, yes,” she said slowly. “But he’s changed quite a bit, too. For the better.”
“Then maybe your invitation does make sense.”
“Tell that to my parents,” she said with a sigh.
“What do they think you should do?”
“Tell him to get lost. They still hate him for what he did to Elizabeth—and to me.”
“And what about you, Jess? How do you feel about him?” he asked gently.
“I don’t know.” She rose restlessly and moved closer to the lake side of the gazebo, pressing her palms flat on the railing as she stared out over the water. “I used to hate him. But I’m tired of hating. And I—I’m not sure anymore that everything I blamed on him was all his fault, anyway.” She paused, trying to gather the courage to speak what had long been in her heart. “The thing is, I shouldn’t have let him drive that night,” she said slowly. “If I’d been behind the wheel, maybe Elizabeth and the judge wouldn’t have been killed. And if I’d been more understanding about his pressures at work, maybe he wouldn’t have turned to alcohol in the first place.”
She was afraid that when she turned she would see censure and recrimination in the minister’s eyes. Instead, they reflected kindness and compassion.
“Guilt can be a terrible burden,” he said quietly. “It can rob our lives of joy and hope and peace. We all do the best we can under the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Sometimes we make good choices. Sometimes we don’t. That’s part of being human. And we can’t spend our lives beating ourselves up over the bad choices. At some point we have to accept the mistakes we’ve made, forgive ourselves and move on.”
“You sound like Scott.” She forced her lips into the semblance of a smile. “Or maybe he sounds like you.”
Reverend Young chuckled. “The concept may have started with me—or, more accurately, with the Lord,” he admitted. “But Scott took it to heart, though he’ll be the first to admit that he struggled mightily with it. Sometimes it’s easier to forgive others than to forgive ourselves, you know. But in the end, he felt the healing power of God.”
Jess looked at him wistfully. “I wish I could.”
“You can. You just have to ask for forgiveness—and most important, be willing to follow His example by forgiving others.”
She drew a deep breath. “Even if that leads into dangerous waters?”
He eyed her shrewdly. “Anything that requires a leap of faith involves a certain amount of danger, Jess. That’s true of forgiveness. And trust. And love.”
Jess turned and gazed out again over the placid lake, wishing some of its serenity would seep into her soul. She tucked her hair behind her ear and drew a steadying breath. “Can I tell you something in confidence?”
“Of course.”
“Sometimes I—I think I’m falling in love again with Scott,” she whispered.
“Is that bad?” he asked gently.
She looked at him in confusion. “I don’t know. It feels wrong somehow, like I’m dishonoring the memory of Elizabeth by accepting back into my life the man who caused her death.”
Reverend Young studied her for a moment. “You know, Jess, I visited Scott regularly when he was in prison. We had a lot of long talks. Many of them about Elizabeth. And I lost track of the number of times he broke down and wept bitterly over her death. I can tell you with absolute certainty that no man ever loved his daughter more than Scott. Her loss was as devastating to him as it was to you. So I don’t really think there’s a conflict between your feelings for Scott and your love for Elizabeth. In fact, I believe that one of the best ways for you to honor the memory of Elizabeth would be to love her father—who loved her with all his heart.”
Jess stared at Reverend Young. Could he possibly be right? she wondered in shock. Was loving Scott respectful of—rather than a violation of—the memory of Elizabeth? Or was the minister telling her this just because he was looking out for Scott’s best interests? Yet she saw only conviction and honesty in the man’s eyes. Dear God, she wanted to believe him! Desperately! Because if she did, there would be one less worry on her mind. One less obstacle to forgiveness. And she would be one step closer to making peace with her past.
“You don’t have to make any decisions until you’re ready,” Reverend Young reassured her with an understanding smile. “Just think about it. Pray about it. And answers will come—in God’s time.” He stood and reached out to take her hand in a warm clasp. “I’ll keep you in my prayers. And now I’ll leave you to enjoy this beautiful spot in peace.”
Jess watched the minister disappear down the flagstone path, then turned back to the quiet lake. Peace. Even the word had a lovely sound, she thought wistfully, savoring the echo of it in her mind. For four years it had been absent from her vocabulary. And from her life. In fact, she’d begun to believe that it had disappeared forever.
But suddenly, for the first time in a very long while, she felt the stirrings of hope in her heart. Reverend Young’s comments had given her new insights and new options about how to deal with her situation. And if he was right, maybe she would find—through reconciliation—the peace that had been so elusive.
Now she just needed the courage to follow her heart.
“…heard the latest about Scott Mitchell?”
“I knew he got out.”
“That’s not the half of it. Get this…he and Jess are living together!”
Jess stopped abruptly, hidden by a bank of greenery from the women whose conversation she had inadvertently overheard at the restaurant where she was meeting Scott for lunch. She recognized the voices—the wives of two of Scott’s former business associates with whom she and Scott had gone out socially on a number of occasions.
“You’re kidding! Why in the world would she take up with him again? He’s an ex-con, for heaven’s sake!”
“I have no idea. She could certainly do better than that. I mean, what can he offer her? His career is toast. Brian saw him planting flowers at an office building downtown. He must work for a nursery or something. Manual labor—do you believe it? Which probably pays dirt—pardon the pun.”
The other woman chuckled. “Cute. Anyway, that’s probably all he could get. After all, who’d want to hire an ex-con?”
“Yeah. So much for the good life. No more power lunches or country clubs or filet mignon for him.”
“Not exactly the fast track.”
“Not exactly any track.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe one day he could move up to shrubs. Or even shade trees. Or maybe Jess could support him.”
Jess had become increasingly incensed as she listened to the conversation, but the two women’s laughter was what drove her over the edge. Without even stopping to think, she stepped around the greenery.
“Hello, Jennifer. Susan.” It was a struggle, but somehow she managed to maintain a civil tone.
“Jess! Why…we were just talking about you,” one of the women replied, clearly flustered. She exchanged a guilty look with her companion, and both women’s faces grew pink.
At least they had the grace to look embarrassed, Jess thought, gritting her teeth. “I know. I couldn’t help overhearing. And I wanted to set the record straight on a few things. First of all, Scott and I are not living together—at least, not in the way you think. Second, Scott understands that material things aren’t really what life’s about—and that they have nothing to do with what a person has to ‘offer.’ So the amount of money he makes isn’t that important to him. It’s too bad more people don’t have their priorities straight,” she said, glancing pointedly at the diamond rings on the women’s fingers and the BMW key chain lying on the table.
“As for manual labor,” she continued, “it’s a lot more honest than the backbiting politics of the corporate world. And finally, I would suggest you think about your attitude toward ex-cons. You know one now. So you ought to realize that they don’t all fit the same mold. Writing people off, denying them a chance because of a stereotype—be it race or gender or age or a prison record—is just plain wrong.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”
Jess didn’t wait for them to reply. She simply turned and walked toward her table, her head held high. Only when she sat, her back to the women, did she realize that her legs felt like rubber and her hands were trembling. In-your-face confrontation just wasn’t her style, she acknowledged, drawing a shaky breath. She generally avoided it at all costs, unless she felt passionate about a subject.
Which ought to tell her something, she suddenly realized with a jolt. Because her last two confrontations had involved defending Scott.
Scott’s throat tightened with emotion and he moved farther back into the shadows as he watched Jess walk to her table. He, too, had overheard the conversation between the two women they’d once considered friends. Frankly, he was getting used to dealing with that kind of garbage. It rarely bothered him anymore. What did bother him was that their derogatory comments hadn’t been confined to him. By association, Jess had been tainted, as well. Which was something he simply hadn’t considered when he’d thought about them reuniting.
Scott jammed his hands into his pockets as he studied Jess’s profile. She was clearly upset. He could see it in the rapid rise and fall of her chest, in the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, in her white-knuckled grip on her water glass. But intuitively he knew she wasn’t upset because of the women’s disparaging comments about her. She was upset because of what they’d said about him. Which made him feel good. And bad.
On the plus side, her vigorous defense of him was clear evidence that her feelings for him were deepening—whether she realized it or not.
On the minus side, today was only a preview of what she’d have to deal with if they got back together. Scott recalled her father’s comment a few days earlier. “If you cared for her at all, you’d leave her alone. You’d walk out of her life and never come back,” he’d said. Scott hadn’t believed him then. But suddenly a seed of doubt crept into his mind. Was it fair to subject Jess to the bias that would likely follow him the rest of his life? he wondered, a troubled frown furrowing his brow. He’d just seen the effect of it firsthand. Her righteous anger told him that she was able to deal with such prejudice publicly. But as he studied her now, he was also aware that it had bruised her heart. This time, on his behalf. But eventually she would feel the hurt for herself, as well.
“Excuse me, sir…can I help you?”
Scott turned to find a waiter at his elbow. “No, thanks. I’m just getting ready to join my party.”
As the man disappeared, Scott took a deep breath. Hiding in the shadows wasn’t going to give him any answers. If he’d learned anything at all over the past four years it was to acknowledge problems and deal with them head-on. So, forcing his lips into a smile, he stepped into the sunlight and made his way toward Jess.
She looked up as he approached and returned his smile, though he could still see evidence of strain on her face as he took the seat across from her.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” he apologized. “A long-winded customer.”
“That’s okay. It gave me time to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room.”
“That’s what I figured. The hostess said you’d been seated on the patio, but you were nowhere to be seen when I got here. So I waited under the grape arbor.”
She shifted uncomfortably and glanced over her shoulder toward the table where the two women had been seated.
“They made a fast exit after your conversation.”
Her gaze swung back to his. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough. And I’d like to thank you for your spirited defense.”
Her face colored slightly. “I can’t believe the things they were saying! How can people be so…so…”
“Unkind?”
Her eyebrows rose. “I had a stronger word in mind.”
A wry smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I’m getting used to it, Jess. It goes with the territory of being an ex-con.”
“Well, it shouldn’t.”
“I agree. But it does. And unfortunately, the stigma is transferred to people who associate with ex-cons. Frankly, I don’t care what those women said about me. But I do care very much about their derogatory comments about you.”
She looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?” she asked, confirming his suspicion that she hadn’t even noticed their snide remarks about her. He hated to call attention to them, but she needed to be aware of what she would face if the two of them got back together.
“Their implications were pretty clear,” he said soberly. “You must be crazy to take up with an ex-con. It was beneath you. There’s nothing I could offer you. You might even end up supporting me.”
She stared at him. “I heard some of that. Not all.”
“Trust me, it was there. Ex-cons become very sensitive to those kinds of things.”
She looked at him, appalled. “Do you run into this all the time?”
He shrugged. “I was warned about it, so I was prepared. For myself, anyway. But not for you,” he replied, evading her question.
She dismissed his concern with an impatient shake of her head. “I can handle that kind of garbage,” she said brusquely.
“I know. I saw you in action. But I’d rather you didn’t have to. And unfortunately, if you hang around me you’ll have to,” he said evenly, his gaze locked with hers.
Though his manner was outwardly relaxed, Jess could feel his tension. Clearly, he was deeply concerned about the scene that had just transpired—and even more concerned that it would likely be repeated in the future. Far more concerned than she. And he needed to know that. She returned his gaze steadily, and when she spoke her voice was filled with quiet resolve. “I’m not going to live my life to accommodate other people’s prejudices. If people are so shallow they can’t look past stereotypes, that’s their problem, not mine. And if they can’t accept me for who I am—the choices I make, the people I…” She had almost said “love,” she realized in shock, her breath lodging in her throat. She stared at Scott, who was watching her intently, and quickly changed direction. “The people I choose to include in my life—then I don’t want to have anything to do with them. And as for people like Jennifer and Susan—frankly, they’re not even worth wasting breath on.”
Scott studied her, warmed and encouraged by her response. Clearly, her feelings on the subject were strong. But were they strong enough to stand repeated attacks? he wondered. Including those from her own parents? Would she eventually become disheartened—or would her convictions intensify in adversity? Unfortunately, Scott didn’t know the answer. He’d just have to trust his heart on this one, he realized—and pray that the Lord would offer him guidance.
“Can I take your order?”
Jess and Scott simultaneously looked at the waiter, then at each other.
“I’m ready, but you’ve hardly had a chance to look at the menu,” Jess said.
He glanced down and scanned it quickly. “Go ahead. I only need a second.”
Jess turned back to the waiter. “I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad.”
Scott looked at her with a frown. To get her to accept his invitation for this “thanks-for-your-hospitality” lunch, he’d had to overcome her protests that it was both unnecessary and too expensive. Though she’d finally capitulated, the cost was clearly still on her mind. “Don’t you want something more substantial than that?” he said.
“This is plenty, really. I usually just have yogurt for lunch, so this is a big meal for me,” she replied truthfully.
For a moment Scott hesitated, but then he let it pass and gave his own order. “Actually, as it turns out, this lunch is not only a thank-you but a celebration,” he said as he handed his menu to the waiter.
She looked at him in surprise. “How so?”
“I have some good news. I found an apartment.”
Jess stared at him. If his news was so good, why had her stomach suddenly dropped to her toes? she wondered. “Th-that’s great,” she replied, striving for an enthusiastic tone.
“I stopped in to see it this morning on my way to work. I think even Karen would approve. There is one problem, though. It won’t be ready for occupancy for a week.”
Though she quickly masked it, Scott saw the relief in her eyes—and suddenly felt the same emotion sweep through his heart. She didn’t want him to leave!
“You’re welcome to stay on at my place,” she replied, confirming his assessment.
He smiled at her, and the warmth that radiated from his eyes sent a flush of heat sweeping over her. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Thank you.” He reached over and covered her hand with his.
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at his lean brown fingers resting on hers. It took a concerted effort to tear her gaze from their hands, but when she finally did the undisguised hunger in his eyes not only made her mouth go dry—it curled her toes.
And made her wonder if she’d just made a big mistake.
“Wow! Something smells great!” Scott called as he stepped through the front door. “I hope I got what you wanted. I had no idea ginger came in—”
“Happy birthday!”
Scott paused, speechless, on the threshold of the kitchen. Today had started with a surprise, when Jess had said she’d like to go to church with him. And now it was ending with one, as well. The significance of the day had fleetingly crossed his mind when he’d awakened this morning, but then he’d forgotten about it. Frankly, his birthday had passed pretty much without notice for the past four years, except for a card from Karen and her family. He’d certainly never expected Jess to mark the occasion. And yet she had obviously gone out of her way to make the day special, to the point of contriving an errand so she could prepare a surprise while he was gone.
His gaze moved from the table set with crisp linens and good china to the chocolate cake on the counter dotted with far too many candles, then on to the gaily wrapped package beside it. Finally it returned to Jess, who was watching him anxiously, her face slightly flushed.
A rush of tenderness washed over him, and he reached up to brush the back of his hand across his suddenly damp eyes. “I can’t believe…I never expected… This is so…” He paused and cleared his throat. “So much for eloquence,” he said with a shaky laugh. “What I’m trying to say is thank you.”
Jess smiled nervously. “You’re welcome. I made pork tenderloin. I know you used to like it. I hope it’s okay. I haven’t made it in…for a long time.”
If he was a man given to impulse, Jess would be in his arms by now, Scott thought. But he was still treading on somewhat shaky ground, and a wrong move could blow all the progress he’d made so far, he reminded himself, silently repeating the mantra he’d adopted over the past few days as logic and need duked it out in his heart. Don’t rush her. Wait until she reaches out to you. Be grateful for whatever she offers. It was sound advice. But it was getting harder and harder to follow.
“Pork tenderloin sounds wonderful,” he said huskily.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, have a seat. It’s ready.”
He did as instructed, and though the meal started off a bit awkwardly, his light banter quickly put her at ease. By the time they got to the cake, she was completely relaxed.
“I think you put too many candles on this,” he protested with a smile as she placed it in front of him. “It’s going to set off your fire alarm.”
She chuckled. “I don’t think so. Now make a wish.”
It was what she’d always said on birthdays. But the last word faded out as their gazes locked. Because Scott had only one wish. And they both knew what it was. Without breaking eye contact he slowly leaned down and blew until every candle was out.
Again he was tempted to reach for her. Again he refrained. But it took every ounce of his self-restraint.
There was silence for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was a bit too bright—and breathless. “Well…that was impressive. I could say something about lots of hot air, but I won’t.” She lifted the cake to the counter behind her, turning her back as she cut it. “Why don’t we take our cake and coffee into the living room?”
“Okay.” He stood as well and reached for their plates. “I’ll just clean up a little first so we don’t have this mess to come back to.”
She turned, the cake knife in her hand. Since becoming her house guest he’d made it a point to take on clean-up chores after meals, but tonight she shook her head. “Not on your birthday,” she said firmly.
He hesitated, then grinned and put the plates back on the table. “Since you have a knife in your hand, I don’t think I’ll argue. Can I at least carry the cake into the living room?”
She nodded, handing him the two plates. “I’ll get the coffee.”
When she joined him a moment later carrying two mugs, she also had the wrapped package under her arm. She handed him his coffee, then sat beside him on the couch and held out the present.
“You didn’t have to do this, Jess,” he said, hesitating.
She shrugged. “I wanted to. Go ahead. Open it.”
He reached for the package then, and she scooted closer to look over his shoulder as he tore off the wrapping to reveal a comprehensive landscaping book.
“I asked some of the horticulturists at the garden to recommend a good reference book,” she said anxiously. “This was their unanimous choice. I—I hope it’s all right. I can return it if you don’t think it will be helpful.”
Scott ran his hand lovingly over the dust jacket, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he vainly attempted to think of something he could say that would adequately express what was in his heart. But finally he gave up. Mere words couldn’t capture the depth of his feelings for this special woman, for her thoughtfulness and her kindness and her incredibly loving heart.
He turned to her, and her eyes were so close he could see the gold flecks in their irises. So close that he began to drown in their green depths. So close that logic somehow seemed less important than listening to his heart. And his heart was speaking loud and clear, telling him to forget about words and express his feelings in the silent language of love.
It was time, his heart said with quiet certainty.
And Scott listened to his heart.