twenty-six
After dinner Julia gave Max a bath and tucked him into bed with his favorite bear. He was exhausted and fell asleep instantly. But at two o’clock he woke up shrieking about a snake in his bed. She held him tight until he went back to sleep, her tears mixing with his. She’d been too churned up to even doze after that, so when she arrived at the office at eight o’clock she was worried about Max, furious at Hunter, and so full of love for Zeke that every breath she took whispered his name.
Last night’s conversation had been painful and difficult but satisfying too. She could speak her mind and Zeke listened. There had been no manipulation, no twists and turns, no lashing out. They were two adults dealing with real life, and they were doing it with mutual respect. She loved him more than ever after that conversation, which made the outcome of today’s meeting with Maury deeply personal to her. Whatever happened this afternoon, she and Zeke would face it together.
She set down her purse, woke up the computer, and glanced down the hall to his office. To her surprise, it was dark. There was no sign of him, so she checked her computer for messages.
One from Zeke popped up with a time stamp of 4:42 a.m. I’m taking the morning off.
“Today?” she said to the email. “With Maury coming?”
Worried, she reached for her phone but stopped. She didn’t want to wake him if he was asleep. On the other hand, what if he had a stomach bug and needed Sprite and crackers? Just last week a twenty-four-hour virus had run through accounting. No matter the cause for his absence, she needed to know he was all right.
Keys and phone in hand, she drove to his house. His SUV was in the driveway, so she knew he was there. Rather than risk waking him with a knock on the front door, she slipped through the back gate, crossed the patio, and tried the sliding glass door. When it opened with a whoosh, she stepped into the kitchen and saw a rectangular oak table surrounded by four chairs, the perfect size for a family.
Her heart did a little flip, but she squashed it. This wasn’t the time to think about their relationship. All that mattered was helping Zeke with today’s presentation.
A hallway led to the bedrooms. The door to the master was only slightly ajar, so she pushed it open another couple inches. Thick shades dimmed the morning sun to gray, but the bed was hotel-white with Zeke in the middle on his side, shirtless in pajama bottoms, tanned, muscular, and sleeping heavily with one arm hanging off the side of the bed. His hair fell on the pillow like a crooked halo.
How on earth, or where in heaven, would she find the strength to be just a friend when she wanted so much more?
He rolled onto his back, all muscle and man, flesh and bone. She needed to leave, but as she took a step, her phone meowed.
Zeke stirred and she panicked. With one eye on his face, she killed the ringtone, but not before he opened his eyes and saw her. Ragged and scruffy, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Jules?”
“Yes. It’s me.” She stuffed the phone back in her pocket. Hunter could wait all day for all she cared right now. “I saw your message, but I was still worried. I thought maybe you were sick.”
“I’m fine.”
“You need your sleep. I’ll leave.”
“Wait.” His voice came out husky and low. Blinking hard, he studied her as if she were a dream, then he rubbed his eyes with his fists.
Wise or not, she drank in the sight of his handsome face, defined muscles, the hair on his chest, and every golden bristle on his jaw.
He lumbered to his feet but stopped short of approaching. “I was up most of the night. If I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be worthless for the meeting with Applegate.”
They stood facing each other, silent but with their feelings rattling between them. His eyes fastened on hers, his expression intense and adoring, yet controlled. Her breath synchronized with his in a moment so raw her cheeks burned.
“You better go,” he said, his voice more gravelly than before.
“Yes.” She stepped away, then stopped. She knew better than to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but her heart got the better of her. “Why were you up all night?”
“It’s a long story and I want to tell you everything. Maybe we can talk tonight.”
“Sure.” She could see the bluish circles under his eyes, the gaunt look she recognized from all-nighters in Berkeley. “My mom will be home packing for George’s show, so she can watch Max. I’ll wait for you at the office.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good. I’ll stay until you get there.”
She turned to leave, but an invisible cord made her spin back around. In a flash she crossed the room, kissed his whisker-rough jaw, and shot out the door.
Zeke crawled back into bed, mashed a pillow over his head, and fell back to sleep with Julia’s kiss warm on his cheek.
When the alarm went off at one o’clock, he felt fortified in spite of unpacking boxes until four in the morning. The job was almost done. Several boxes of family treasures were waiting to be shipped to his sisters, anything worthless was in the trash, and the useable items were in more bags for charity. It felt good to have his garage back and even better to be rid of the boxes.
The heavens hadn’t opened last night, but Zeke felt better than he had in years. Only Box No. 1 remained to be emptied. Last night, when he slit it open, he had seen a photograph of himself and his dad taken twenty years ago on a camping trip. Choking up, he’d gently closed the cardboard flaps. That box held his father’s personal things and deserved special respect, so he’d set it on the workbench with the intention of unpacking it on Sunday.
God was doing something inside him, something Zeke didn’t understand as he dressed in his best suit for the meeting. At least he hoped God was doing something, because with the Carter account still undecided and budget-busters like paving the lookout, Zeke needed all the help he could get.
When he arrived at the Travers mansion, George called a greeting from the far end of the porch. Seated in the swing and holding a glass of lemonade, he raised the tumbler in a mock toast. “To my stubborn sister.”
Zeke knew better than to get between George and Ginger, but George’s support pleased him. “She means well.”
“Women.” George scowled at the spot on the lawn where Ellen had twisted her ankle. “They drive me nuts.”
Zeke could sympathize. “So who’s driving you crazier? Ginger or Ellen?”
“Ellen. God sure has a sense of humor. I’m about to go on Medicare, and she has me thinking like a teenager.”
Zeke gave a sigh of his own. “Women.”
“Can’t live with ’em—”
“And can’t live without them,” Zeke finished.
George took a swig of lemonade, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and swirled the liquid and ice so fast it rattled. “Can you believe it? I’m even writing songs about her. Mushy ones.”
Zeke didn’t see the problem. In fact, he envied George. He and Ellen were single, financially secure, and relatively unencumbered by career and family demands. On the other hand, Zeke and Julia faced career challenges, maybe unemployment for Zeke, faith differences, and Hunter’s claims to Max.
Frustrated by it all, he said, “You two are great together. What’s the problem?”
“She had an awful time when her husband died. She’s scared of going through that again, and I don’t blame her.” He drummed his fingers on the glass. “We’re just friends now and that’s fine, but I’m so tied up in knots I can’t stand it.”
Zeke couldn’t resist. “You know what you’d say to me?”
George glared at him. “Punk.”
Grinning, Zeke leaned against the railing. “You’d tell me to hang loose and trust God. And you’d mean it.”
George offered up an ironic smile. “Yes, I would. Keep reminding me, okay?”
The front door opened and Ginger stepped onto the deck. Her gaze darted between the two of them. “You look like partners in crime.”
“You bet we’re partners,” George told her. “Zeke’s right about saving this place.”
Ginger’s mouth wrinkled into a frown. “You don’t know that, George. You promised to listen and to be on good behavior.”
Here it comes, the famous Travers Twins bickering. Sure enough, George raised the glass of lemonade in another toast.
“To Maury Snapple-gate—”
Ginger huffed. “George, really.”
“May the best man win.” With that, he chugged the last of the lemonade and slammed the glass down on the armrest.
A car engine rumbled in the distance. Zeke turned his head and saw Hunter’s Lexus cruise to a stop at the end of the driveway. Hunter climbed out first, straightened his coat with a flex of his shoulders, and tugged his cuffs into place.
The passenger door opened next. Zeke had seen photographs of Maury Applegate when he Googled him. Most were business portraits with Maury in a suit and tie, or pictures of the grip-and-grin variety with Maury presenting an award. The photographs were all formal and posed, so when he climbed out of the car, Zeke expected to see a man with Hunter’s demeanor.
But Maury Applegate surprised him. He was shorter than Zeke had assumed, balding with a fringe of white hair, and dressed in a plaid shirt straight out of the Sears catalog. A white goatee balanced his puffy red cheeks. Maury didn’t look at all like a man made of money, but those men were often the most powerful of all.
Hunter led the way up the steps, greeted Ginger first, then made introductions. George nodded curtly to Hunter but greeted Maury with his trademark smile and a firm handshake.
Zeke followed suit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Zeke.” Maury squeezed back hard. “Those reports you sent were detailed and insightful. Good work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The warm greeting knocked Zeke off balance. He’d been expecting a shark, not a nice old man in a plaid shirt. There was something familiar about him, something Zeke couldn’t place until Maury’s eyes twinkled like stars at the North Pole. That was it—Maury Applegate reminded him of Santa Claus.
Zeke’s heart sank. There was no way he could compete with Santa Claus. He’d do his best today, but the fight was even more uphill than he had realized. God? Are you there? This is it.
Forcing a calm he didn’t feel, Zeke faced the group. “Shall we get started?”