THE NEXT NINE DAYS AT work were uncomfortable and infuriating. Derrek avoided her, and when he couldn’t he offered only a quick hello. Linda seemed to go out of her way to bump into Allison, and when she did she gave a smug little smile. Having to endure Linda’s cattiness was like sandpaper on her soul.
On the nineteenth a welcome distraction arrived in the form of Micah and Sarah. Something about seeing them in the lobby gave her a sense of expectation. She gave them a tour of the office, and their countenance seemed strange almost the entire time. She introduced them to Derrek, Linda, Ellie, and eight others. They both took time to chat for more than a few minutes with all of them but were far quieter than Allison expected.
They didn’t step outside until after twelve. The moment they reached the sidewalk, Micah said, “Wow!”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced back at the building as they made their way to the end of the block and waited at the crosswalk for the light to change.
“That was something you don’t experience every day,” he said.
They stepped off the curb as Allison said, “What’s that?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much religion in my life.”
“Agree,” Sarah said.
“I thought I told you guys that.”
“Told us what?” Micah asked.
“All of the people who work there are Christians. At least I’m pretty sure everyone is. So that’s probably why—”
“That’s not what I meant.” He chuckled and stutter-stepped to avoid a man coming straight at him, head down, eyes on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings.
“Then what did you—”
“There’s a vast difference between religion and Christianity. What I felt was an avalanche of religion burying everything in its path.”
Allison stared at him. “You felt it?”
“Felt it. Saw it. Heard it.” Micah gave her a sympathetic smile. “It was like trying to swim through an ocean full of jelly, and the jelly was rancid.”
After their food arrived at the Thai restaurant they’d chosen, Micah cleared his throat and said, “I’d like to tell you about the home Sarah and I live in.”
“Down at the ocean.”
“Yes.”
“Sure, I’d like to hear about it.”
“It was designed by my great-uncle Archie. He was an architect and built the home with a company called Hale & Sons. By the way, Hale & Sons are from Seattle. You haven’t heard of them, have you?”
“I haven’t, no.”
“Anyway, I was working in software, downtown Seattle, and I get a letter telling me this house down there is mine. I go down there, and let’s just say I discovered quickly the home was quite . . . unusual in its architecture.”
“How so?”
Sarah placed her hand on Micah’s and looked at him when she spoke. “Someday we would love to tell you the entire story, but it would take far too long, and really, today we want to talk about you.”
“Can I get an abbreviated version?”
Micah looked at Sarah and shrugged, and Sarah said to Allison, “You’ll cut him off when you start getting bored, right?”
Allison laughed. “Done!”
“As I just said, I was working in software—”
“He owned the company, was making millions and millions of dollars, but he was empty inside and—”
“Oh,” Micah said and pulled back from the table. “Did you want to tell Allison the story?”
“No, but sometimes you need a little color commentary.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“As I was saying . . .” Micah drew out each word and mock glared at Sarah, who laughed. “I got a letter from my great-uncle Archie, telling me I’d inherited a home down on the Oregon coast, in Cannon Beach. Cannon Beach was not a place of great memories for me, so I went down there to sell it. But then things started happening in the house, strange things, and I met this mechanic named Rick who became a close friend. Rick knew more about the house than he was letting on. But all he would say about the house was that it was spiritual. Which was interesting, because my faith at that point had slipped away like the tide. Then I met Sarah, and more weird things happened in the house, and over time I slowly came to realize that the home was a . . .”
Micah stopped, glanced at Sarah, and gave a nervous laugh.
Allison put down her chopsticks and peered at Micah. “What’s wrong?”
“This is the part where the story gets really weird. Which is why we don’t tell it too often.”
“Given the recent events in my life, I don’t think much will shock me.”
“Good point,” Sarah said. “You want to give us an update on what’s been going on?”
“I do.” Allison picked up her chopsticks and motioned toward Micah. “But first, the rest of your story.”
“All right.” Micah grinned. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“The house down in Cannon Beach turned out to be a physical manifestation of my soul.”
Allison stopped with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. “Are you kidding?”
“No.” Micah lowered his voice. “The rooms of the house were literally parts of my soul. Some rooms contained things from my past I needed to face; other rooms made me come alive in ways I hadn’t for years. And at the heart of the home, there was a room that blew my mind like nothing ever has in my entire life, before or since.”
Micah looked up as if recalling the room, and his eyes grew soft.
“And as I was going through a mental and emotional and spiritual revolution, my life in Seattle was falling apart and vanishing, quite literally. I lost everything. And yet I ended up gaining everything by stepping into the person I truly am, the one God designed me to be.”
Allison stared at Micah, glanced at Sarah, then fixed her gaze back on Micah. It was ludicrous. A home that was a physical manifestation of Micah’s soul? That made her journal experiences look tame.
“No wonder you didn’t balk when I told you about the journal.”
“That would be one of the reasons why, yes.”
“One?”
“Like we said down at the beach, we’re drawn to you—not sure why—but we’ve learned to listen to the leadings of the Spirit and go with them. So here we are.”
Sarah finished her meal and pushed her plate toward the center of the table. “Your turn, Allison. What’s been going on with the journal?”
She told them about the entries and how they’d stopped changing, and the frustration of that, but also about Richard becoming a friend and the talks they’d had.
“This guy, is he like a boyfriend-type friend?” Sarah asked.
“No.” Allison smiled. “He’s like a dad-type friend.”
“Ah yes, that makes sense,” Micah said as he worked on his tom kha kai.
“Why do you say that?”
“I think God often puts people in our lives that can mentor, offer wisdom, so whoever this Richard guy is, he’s probably your Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“My who?”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi from Star Wars, the guy who mentors Luke Skywalker.”
“I only saw the movies once, and that was a long time ago.”
“Once?” Micah leaned forward. “Once? You’re kidding. What about episodes four, five, and six?”
“Once each.”
“Wow, I guess that does it. Can’t be friends any longer.”
“Ignore him.” Sarah kissed Micah on the cheek. “Can we get back to Allison please?”
“There’s not much more to tell. Work has been really tough, I’m not making the money I need to make, and there’ve been a number of issues that have rocked me, but I’m figuring out what do to, and the journal has been a huge part of that.”
They ate in silence for a bit till Micah said, “We might be able to help a bit with the financial. Not much, but a little.”
“Oh?”
“Given your experiences with the journal, we think you’re someone who should come see our home. We could describe more of what happened in it back when I first went there, and what continues to happen—which in some ways is crazier than anything I first went through. Then, after spending a few days with us there, getting to know our entire story, I’d want to hire you to help teach me something I’ve always wanted to try.”
“Architecture?”
“Yes. I’m an artist. I paint, but with oils. I’d love to learn to ‘paint’ with metal and wood and windows. I’ve done a bit of dabbling over the years with Hale & Sons, the company that built my house, but I want to dive into it deeper. The way my great-uncle did.”
“You’re a painter?”
“Yes.” Micah turned to Sarah. “And Sarah is a personal trainer. Between the two of us, we do okay, pay the bills, take care of our sons. But as I said, I’d like to learn more about architecture.”
“You want me to teach you?”
“Yes.” Micah smiled, and his eyes caught fire. “Would you?”
“The long answer is yes; the short answer is I don’t know.” Allison took a drink of water. “Right now my life is complicated.”
“Oh?” Sarah said.
“Things with my mom, my brother, my job . . . this journal . . . I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but at the moment my life is at about the worst point it’s ever been. But I do need the money, desperately. So yes, I’ll figure out a way to work it in.”
Micah reached across the table and squeezed her hand for a quick second. “That is great to hear. I’m so psyched for you.”
He grinned at her and gave a couple of quick nods of his head.
“What?” Allison frowned. “You’re happy for me?”
“Extremely. Congrats.” He took a bite and nodded again as he looked at her.
“You want to explain that?”
“When I hit my low point nine years back, I thought there was no way out. I was devastated on so many levels. But it was the storm I needed. And the light came. Breakthrough on a scale I couldn’t imagine. I know that’s coming for you. No doubt in my mind. But you had to get to this point first. And then, when you’re through it, maybe you can help me.”
“If that ever happens, I’d love to.”
“Wonderful.” Micah grinned and turned to Sarah. “I told you.”
Sarah laughed. “You didn’t tell me—I told you.”
“That’s what I meant.” Micah’s eyes grew serious. “Let’s stay in touch on this, yes?”
“Yes,” Allison said. “When the time comes, I’ll be ready.”
“I believe you will be.”
When Allison got back to the office, she went to the lunchroom to heat up water for tea. As she set the kettle on the small stove and pulled out her Kindle to read while she waited, Ellie and Linda came in and sat at the far end, apparently to have a late lunch. They settled down and started talking in whispers, but their voices weren’t soft enough.
“. . . I don’t know what I’m going to do about it,” Linda was saying.
“You want to talk about it?”
Allison stopped reading. Should she leave? She didn’t want to hear this. Shouldn’t hear it. Obviously they didn’t think she could hear them, but if she left now, they’d figure out that she could, and had. Before she could decide, Linda started in with a statement that froze Allison to her spot.
“I’m thinking of leaving Bryce.”
“What?” Ellie said. “Why?”
Allison lowered her head and closed her eyes. She shouldn’t be here. But she was stuck.
“Did you know I met Bryce at Boeing?”
“No, I didn’t,” Ellie said with compassion.
“I worked for him. We fell in love, we started having kids, and I stayed home. In the early years it was okay. Bryce took part when the kids were little. But as time went by he started coming home later. Even when he was there, he’d plop down in front of the TV. Every night. Year after year after year.”
“I’m so sorry, Linda,” Ellie said.
“The only time he wasn’t watching TV was on the weekends when he was on the golf course.” Linda paused and rubbed her eyes. “When the kids left I thought things would change. I tried to talk to him, but he was never in the mood for conversation. We never had more than the most basic of talks.”
“I’ve known you for ten years.”
“And I never let on, did I? I was committed to the marriage. I put on a brave face. Told you and everyone else what a wonderful and brilliant man he was. Great husband, excellent father to our children.”
“You’ve always told me about the fun you guys have.”
“Yes, I did.” Linda blew out a long breath. “And I made up excuses why he rarely made it to church.”
“And you stayed with him.”
Linda didn’t respond. Out of the corner of her eye, Allison saw Linda dab at her eyes. Then she rose, along with Ellie, took their bowls to the sink, washed them out, and walked from the room.
Allison stared at her Kindle, not seeing the words, just as she’d not read anything for the past three minutes. Her heart ached for Linda. Everyone had their pain; everyone had their secrets, their longings that more often than not went unfulfilled. In an instant the past three months made sense. No wonder Linda ran the office like a prison camp. No wonder she protected Derrek so fiercely. He saw her. Truly saw her, saw her as someone of great value.
Allison wondered why she couldn’t be seen that way. What was wrong with her that she wasn’t worthy of being a partner? And now that it was clear she’d never get what she longed for at the company, where could she go?
On the way home she prayed, begged for an answer, because she had definitely reached the low point Micah had spoken of. If breakthrough was coming, she needed it now.