The July sun soaked into Adeline as she stood on her front lawn with a painter. When he’d done some work at the church, he’d done good work on schedule for a reasonable price. If she could afford to hire anyone, he would be the guy.
He made notes on his clipboard, then walked up to one of the windows, squinting at the frame. Bruce must’ve been watching from inside, because when the painter got close to the glass, the dog started barking. After a surprised jump, the man made another note about whatever had required closer scrutiny.
Her Saturday lunch shift at Superior Dogs started in a couple of minutes, and the longer he inspected and measured for the quote, the more she imagined dollar signs adding up. “Do you have a ballpark number?”
He stopped at the worst corner of the porch, took off his glasses, and looked the column up and down. “Needs more than paint.”
“You wouldn’t have to paint the deck or railings. They’re being replaced.” She was getting a quote on that work too, despite Drew and Chip’s offer. She hated the thought of inconveniencing friends.
“How about the ceiling?” He motioned up with the clipboard.
No one had mentioned a structural problem with the section of roof over the porch. “I could paint that. Can you quote the job with and without?”
Another note for the clipboard.
“Do you have everything you need from me? I have to get to work.”
“Sure, I’ll finish up here and get you the quote in a couple of days.”
“Okay.” She hated the suspense, but the delay would give her time to get the bass appraised. She might be able to do that this afternoon, between the lunch and dinner shifts. Once she had dollar amounts from the music store, the painter, and the carpenter, she could make decisions. Did she have to sell the bass? Did she have to accept the church’s help with the porch? She’d rather not do either, and she certainly hoped she wouldn’t have to do both.
Even with no special gallery event today, plenty of tourists wandered the streets between her house and the lake. Without taking much notice of the line at the window, Adeline let herself in the trailer. Thanks to the cooking surface, the temperature hovered several degrees warmer inside the trailer than out. Asher stood by the grill, blotting his forehead.
After a glance over the orders Asher had taken so far, she moved to the window. One couple stood about eight feet back, not making eye contact, so theirs was probably the order in process. Closer, a big gray pit bull sat politely. Another pit bull, this one brown-and-black brindle, stood by the customer at the menu who had both dogs’ leashes clipped around his waist like belts. Sunglasses shaded his eyes, but a recognizable full sleeve tattoo of a forest covered his right arm.
“John?”
His gaze shifted from the menu, and a grin split his face. He pulled off his sunglasses and hooked them on the neck of his T-shirt. “Hey, Addie. Long time, no see.”
“You just got in?”
Before he could answer, a little boy approached the gray dog. The mom snatched him back, but John waved him forward. “Trigger’s nice. Camo too.”
The kid’s hand was tiny on the dog’s broad head, and when the brown one moved in with kisses, the boy retreated to his mother, giggling.
After they moved on, John glanced back at the menu. “I’ll have a Super Superior and two plain hot dogs, no buns. Cut them up in bowls.”
The unusual order brought Asher to the window. “Now those look like a couple of superior dogs.”
John chuckled. “Ought to be after living with their trainer for so long.”
Her boss stuck his hand out the window. “I’m Asher.”
“John.”
They shook, no recognition flickering in Asher’s face. John kept a much lower profile than Gannon. No TV shows, no actress girlfriends, no solo magazine covers. “Once I get this order up for you, do you mind if we take a picture? We never let our canine friends go without one.”
“Absolutely.”
Asher went back to the grill, clearly oblivious.
John winked to Adeline. “You were saying?”
“You just got in?”
“Haven’t even been to the cabin yet.”
So the band was staying in a cabin. It was a wonder the whole city wasn’t talking about them. Maybe everyone assumed Gannon had left. She’d find out tomorrow when she faced Olivia and the other teenage girls at church.
She took another customer’s order while John lingered by the window. As she handed the other man his change, John asked, “Have you seen much of our boy?”
Our boy? The phrase made Gannon sound like someone who belonged to her in some way, but with their ugly history, Gannon wasn’t and could never be hers, nor she his. She shrugged and glanced at Asher and the other customers. “Ran into him a few times.”
“Small-town living.” John watched the people walking by, but his dogs garnered more attention than he did.
“All right. Here you go.” Asher handed over John’s Super Superior and two diced hotdogs, each in its own boat. “Still have time for the picture?”
“Yes, sir.”
Asher handed Adeline his phone, and they met John and the dogs on the sidewalk. She snapped the picture, and then John gave his phone to Asher.
“Get one of us?” He removed the sunglasses again. “Addie and I go way back.”
As Asher took the picture, John tugged her into a side hug that threw off her balance. When Asher showed them the shot, John’s arm was around her and she was laughing with her hand braced on his chest and one of her legs flung out for balance.
“That’s a keeper.” Smirking, John pocketed his phone and put the dogs’ hotdogs on the ground. He only got in one bite of his own food before the animals had devoured theirs. “All right. Addie, we’ll have you out, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”
She nodded, but how could she take him up on the offer to visit without seeing Gannon?
He walked off toward the public parking lot, the dogs trotting after him, content to ignore everything but their master even as they drew everyone’s attention away from him. How long would that last?
Mostly obscured by trees and a bend in the island, the peach color of the closest lighthouse marked the spot where, at night, a beacon slowly pulsed. Another sightseeing boat meandered between there and the cliff, too far out for Gannon to see if anyone lingered on the deck.
There was a song in there somewhere. A distant light. Faceless people. He brought his notebook to the great room, and the pages opened easily to the next blank space, but before he touched pen to paper, the door swished.
He leaned back to see if it was Tim.
When John appeared, Gannon got to his feet. John clapped him in a brief hug, then turned, taking in the room. Doors to bedrooms lined the second-floor balcony. The ceiling with its cedar beams stretched far overhead, and a two-story wall of windows looked out onto the patio and the lake. The dogs, who had followed John in, trotted from one place to another, sniffing.
John’s gaze fell on Gannon’s notebook. “Working?”
“I haven’t gotten very far.”
“It’s Saturday. Let’s enjoy it.” John opened one of the patio doors, whistled to get the dogs’ attention, and then led the way out. They walked to the overlook and back before settling on lounge chairs in the sun. As the dogs stretched out on the patio rug, John intertwined his fingers over his stomach. “Remind me why we live in LA.”
“Because we might as well. LA follows us wherever we go.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah. We’re here to work. There’s never a break with Matt or Harper.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Harper had called again this morning. “She’s always in trouble but never ready to change.”
“So you have noticed that about her.”
“Of course I have. But once she hits bottom, maybe she’ll be ready.”
“To do what?”
“Come to Christ. She’s a seeker.” Maybe not all the time, but given her abusive father and the agent who took advantage of her when she first came to LA, Gannon couldn’t blame her for looking for attention in all the wrong ways. He was out to show her a better path, and for it, she called him her rock. “When God does change her, it’ll be a testimony that reaches far and wide.”
“She is seeking,” John agreed dryly, “but not God.”
They’d had this discussion before to the same result, but if anyone understood Gannon’s motives with Harper, John ought to.
Despite opposing Gannon’s move to fire Fitz, John had stuck by him. Once Fitz died, Gannon broke and confessed the whole story. John had quietly but unwaveringly represented truth, not downplaying the wrong he’d done but talking about forgiveness when Gannon was sure he’d disqualified himself from ever being usable to God. Years later, Gannon was being used—in the lives of fans, who wrote in often enough to tell him so, and in Harper’s life.
“I’m trying to be for her what you were to me, a friend who’s not easily scared off and is there to point the way when she’s ready to listen.”
“This isn’t the same.”
Gannon sighed. At least John had stuck with him through thick and thin. Gannon would pay that forward with Harper, and someday, John would understand. For now, he veered from the subject. “Seeing Adeline again has been something else.”
“Yeah.” A smile twitched John’s mouth as he pulled out his phone. After poking the screen a few times, he passed it to Gannon.
John had managed to get an arm around her and had been rewarded with a gigantic grin.
“Nice.” Gannon gave the phone back.
John snorted. “Don’t be bitter.”
Adeline deserved to be as happy as she’d looked in the picture. What he wouldn’t give to the be one who could bring out that smile.
It’d already been days since their talk in the church office, and she hadn’t reached out. He’d claimed that day that he’d said his piece, but he hadn’t. They had so much more to discuss about grace, the band, the songs he’d written about her and what to do with them. John was right that Matt could use a project to focus on, and given Gannon’s trouble writing much else lately, Awestruck needed the songs like never before.
“I gave her my number and told her I would leave her alone unless she reached out.”
“And she hasn’t.”
Which meant he needed to keep his word. This obsession with Adeline needed to stop. He was forgiven, free and clear to continue with his life, even if losing Adeline was a consequence of his sin.
Impossible regret pummeled him. He’d rather have lost a limb than her.
He’d have to draw even closer to God to cope with that.
Focusing on work would help him too.
He stood to get his guitar and paper. He could write about the lighthouse. The distant people.
Inside, the notebook lay open to the blank page, but too much history with Adeline packed the other sheets to do him any favors. He carried the notebook to the kitchen as he hunted for a replacement. The drawer next to the silverware contained a legal pad. He swapped one notebook for the other and pushed the drawer shut again.
Out of sight, out of mind.