This week had dragged on and on. So much so that at 4:58 p.m. on Friday afternoon, Valerie decided to call it done. She logged out of the computer system and pulled her laptop out of the docking station. She slipped it into her bag, made sure she had her tablet, and pulled her purse out of her desk drawer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d left work with such enthusiasm.

As she left her office, she turned off the light and let the door click shut behind her.

“Hey, Val,” Ian Jones greeted, pausing as he walked down the hall.

“Hi, Ian. How’s Calla?”

“So busy. Their reservations have been full since opening. I can’t tell you what a relief it is to see it succeed. She’s worked so hard.”

“She has. It’s exciting to see it happening.”

“Will we see you at the lake on Monday?”

She had an immediate impulse to say no. A big party did not constitute a good time in her opinion, but she knew she’d come to the Dixon brothers’ Memorial Day party because they were family. Mainly, if she were honest with herself, because Brad would be there.

“I plan to come. Is Calla coming, too? Will you be able to tear her away?” She asked it with a smile, making sure he knew she meant only to tease.

He laughed and shrugged. “She said yes. We’ll see.” He looked at his watch. “Got to run. My grandmother is expecting me for dinner tonight. Have a good weekend.”

On her way to the elevator, four more people stopped her, asking if they’d see her at the lake. It sounded like the entire office planned to attend. The more she thought about it, the more fun it sounded. It might be nice just having some downtime with the people she worked hard with every day.

Instead of going down, she went on up to the executive floor and made her way to Brad’s office. As she got closer, her pulse started to increase, and she felt like she needed to catch her breath. She hadn’t seen him for any reason for a month. When she first started here, he’d just show up at meetings whether she saw his name on the invites or not. Ever since the dedication at the church, nothing.

Crickets.

Not even crickets. More like a deafening silence.

What would she say if she saw him? Probably just hi. Probably let him lead the conversation. And he’d probably act very cool and dismissive and walk away as soon as he could.

But, today, she wouldn’t see him. A part of her hoped he’d come out of his office just in time, but she had an ulterior motive. She pushed the door open and stepped into Sami’s office.

She wore a miniature Uncle Sam hat perched on top of bright red curls and a blue jumper covered in white stars. A blue star adhered to the corner of one of her eyes, and silver glitter eyeshadow made her eyes glow. Just as Valerie came in, Sami hung up the phone.

“Perfect timing!” She grinned and clicked two buttons on her computer. The screen shut off as she stood up. “I am so ready for this weekend!”

“Me, too. It’s been such a long week.” She couldn’t help but glance at Brad’s door then back at Sami. “Are you going to the party on Monday?”

“Dixon brothers’ party? Probably. I originally wasn’t because my church has a picnic planned. But Calla wanted to go to the lake, so I’ll probably come, too. She’s my sidekick at church things.”

Valerie paused and looked at her. “Wait. Did I hear you right? You go to church?”

Sami raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Yeeeees?” She dragged it out slowly, made it sound like a question. Then she added, “Why?”

“I just….” Valerie pursed her lips and wondered what else to say. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been reading my mother’s journals for the last couple of weeks.”

“Your mother the missionary,” Sami clarified superfluously.

Valerie nodded. “I’ve been wondering what to do with some thoughts and feelings I have.”

Sami opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a blue straw bag. She walked around the desk and stopped in front of Valerie. “I’m happy to talk to you about it, if that’s what you want. And if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m happy about that, too. Let me know.”

“Thanks.” Did she want to talk to Sami about it? Would that affect their friendship? “I grew up in church, with the Dixons. But when I left home, it seemed less real to me. Because my parents were killed on a missionary trip, it became easy to make God fake and their decisions selfish. But ever since I read my mom’s journals, everything I once believed in so much started to come back to me, and I don’t know if it’s the influence of my environment or if it’s a true conviction from a living God.”

“I can see why that would be confusing,” Sami nodded, her eyes very serious under their sparkly eyeshadow. “I grew up with no church. My mom was intentionally a single parent. She was a career woman who looked at her biological clock one day and realized she was almost too late to have kids, then went out and got pregnant. I was in a church daycare until I was five, then a Catholic school until graduation. The only basis for religion I had was from that. It took a group in college to really open the door wide for Christ for me. I believe it wholeheartedly and have no doubts. And I’ll tell you something else. I believe God is talking to you through your mom’s journals.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow. “You say that. You think I’d actually be able to hear a voice?”

Sami’s lips pressed together, and Valerie watched her face, saw thoughts come and go as she considered what to say. Finally, she put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “My friend, I believe if you trust your mom’s heart and words and listen—and just let Him in, you’ll hear his voice. No doubt. I think you’ll even be surprised at what you hear.” She straightened and gestured toward her door. “Ready to start this long weekend?”

Brad lifted the string of lights with both hands as he climbed the ladder, using his shins against each rung to help balance himself. The temporary wooden structure would have canvas stretched over the roof once they got the lights strung. While he fastened lights to the frame, he heard the sound of a truck idling. He glanced over and saw the crew unload the large portable restroom facility complete with working sinks and flushing toilets. Ken hooked up the water tank while Jon helped unload another truck full of tables and chairs. He strung lights as far as he could reach, then gingerly stepped down the ladder, shifted it over several feet, and climbed again. From his vantage point, he saw his mom go to the back of his father’s truck and pull out a plastic bin of tablecloths. She carried it into the fishing shack and came back out again for another box.

Growing up, his parents regularly threw Memorial Day parties. His mom liked it because that last Monday in May the summer heat typically warmed the air compared to the Fourth of July heat that beat down like a heaven full of hot hammers. But, for the last seven or eight years, they just hadn’t. His dad would mention it about a month out, and his mom would put it off. Or she’d mention it and they just wouldn’t start working on it. He was glad Ken had initiated the idea this year.

As he climbed down the ladder, he checked his watch. Nearly four, and he wanted to get back home and take care of some emails before the weekend officially started. He plugged in the lights and shielded his eyes with his hands as he looked up into the bright sky and confirmed all the strings of lights lit up, then unplugged them and walked over to his dad’s car. Two more plastic containers remained. He stacked them together and carried them both into the shack. His mom had set up a temporary staging room to prepare the tables.

“Where to?” he asked.

She set a bin next to a worktable and said, “Those are plates and cups. Set them back over there by the sink.”

After he set them down, he said, “I’m going to go get some work done at the house. Call my cell if you need me to bring anything back with me.”

“Thanks, hon, but there’s still plenty of time to figure out what’s missing. I’ll take care of it tomorrow before I come out here to make centerpieces.”

He bent to kiss her cheek. “You realize that people would have been pleased with hot dogs wrapped in tin foil?”

She laughed but shook her head. “Not how I do things. You know that. People are expecting Rosaline Dixon, even though you boys are technically the ones throwing the party.”

“Well, we appreciate you making us look so good, even if it’s just to keep you from looking bad.” He said it with a smile, and she laughed, clearly knowing he teased her. “See you at home.”

The drive home took twice as long as it should have. Most of the time, he left the lake during the evening on a weekend. Now it was five o’clock on a Friday, on a holiday weekend. Atlanta served as the hub for several interstate highways, and travelers inevitably had to go through Atlanta to get almost anywhere else on the east coast. If he’d thought about it, he would have spent another hour or two at the lake then started home. He would have gotten there at about the same time without the extra hour or so on the road.

He let himself into the quiet house and went straight for the kitchen. In the fridge, he found leftover meatloaf, and he used that to make himself a sandwich. Armed with a plate holding his sandwich, potato chips, and a pickle spear, he went upstairs to his room. He felt energized, even happy, after working with his family on something they all loved to do. He wanted to pour some of that good energy into his work.

Just as he booted up his laptop, the sounds of the doorbell filled the house. From his room, he looked down and saw Valerie’s car in the driveway. His pulse raced as he rushed downstairs, crossed the foyer, and threw open the door, finding her walking back down the steps.

“Hey,” he said as she turned. “Sorry. I was upstairs. Big house.”

The startled look left her face and she smiled. “Hi. Sorry to bother you.”

“No reason for sorry. No reason to even ring the doorbell, for that matter.” He held the door wider. “Come on in.”

As she walked by him, she left in her wake the smell of her light strawberry scent. He closed his eyes and gently inhaled, letting the aroma fill and tease his senses. He shut the door behind her and followed her into the foyer. “Mom and dad are with the guys at the lake.”

At the table in the center of the room, she paused. “Oh. Okay. I’d hoped to talk to your mom.”

“I know I’m not as pretty as she is, but I’m here if you need an ear.”

With a raised eyebrow, she quickly said, “I’ve seen so little of you that I almost forget you’re here.”

He knew his removal from her life probably confused her a little bit, but it kept him sane. The more time he spent in her presence, the harder he found it to deny his attraction for her. “As you know, it’s been a super busy time at work,” he said, using a very poor excuse. “I get pulled in a lot of different directions in the spring and summer. I barely find a free minute on any given day.” He gestured toward the back of the room. “Come outside. We’ll sit in the gazebo.”

“Are you going to rescue me?” she asked, leading the way. It made him think about the times she’d played a helpless princess in the tower, trapped in the gazebo as one of the brothers battled the other two with plastic swords to rescue her.

“I wonder if we could talk Ken and Jon into playing again,” he said. “Though I think you’ve probably proven that you can get yourself out of the tower.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, her lips in a thin line. “Sure, by being thrown out of it.” His face fell, and clearly she saw it because she immediately said, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice.”

Clearing his throat, he brushed by her and led the way into the dining room and through to the kitchen. At the back door, he stopped and waited for her to catch up before opening the door and stepping aside to let her by. “You need to quit apologizing to me.”

“I’m so—” She stopped and lowered her eyes, then turned and walked straight to the gazebo with her shoulders back. He followed more leisurely. When he got to the gazebo, he found her standing with her back against the railing, her arms folded in front of her almost in a defensive manner.

“Is that what you learned to do? To constantly apologize?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“When Tyrone was using you to prove to himself that he was a man, did you constantly apologize?”

“Actually, it’s classic behavior for—”

Feeling angry at himself and enraged at Tyrone, he held up a hand to cut her off. “Forget it. That was rude. Please forgive me. Sincerely.”

He watched the hesitation on her face before she relaxed and nodded. “I accept your apology and will try to refrain from saying ‘I’m sorry’ from now on.” She sat on the bench and looked up at him. “How are you? I’ve missed seeing you regularly since our ‘date date, like a romantic date’ night.”

Intentionally forcing himself to relax, he sat next to her and turned his body in her direction. “I’ve been great. How are you since the dedication at the church? It seemed to have an emotional effect on you.”

She took a deep breath through her nose. “You know, I’ve been so angry for so long that I just didn’t know how to let it go. Your mom gave me my mom’s journals to read and they really opened my eyes to a lot of things. Now I find that I’m seeking God, wanting to rediscover a love that I had once but not sure how to go about doing it.”

The flood of joy in his heart overwhelmed him. He reached for her hand and watched her start to recoil at the sudden movement, then intentionally place her hand in his. “I think once you acknowledge to God that you’re seeking, He’ll find a way to let you hear Him.” Her fingers felt cool in his hand and he covered them with his other hand, wanting to give her some warmth. “How can I help you?”

Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears. “I was hoping Auntie Rose could help me. I remember her always being ready with words of wisdom when we needed it, and my mom’s journals were filled with her and her insights.”

Brad looked at his watch and at the sky. “I could call her, ask her to come home.”

“No. It’s okay.” She pulled her hand out of his and pushed her fingers against her eyes as if to try to stem a coming flood. “It’s waited this long.” Releasing a long breath, she stretched her legs in front of her and crossed them at the ankles. “It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

In the silence that followed, Brad searched for the right thing to say or do. He came up with, “Do you want to go for a swim?”

“Not particularly.” Leaning her head back against the railing, she closed her eyes. “Remember that big hammock that all four of us tried to get into and ended up wrapped up in and your mom had to cut us out?”

They’d been about six. He remembered his mom didn’t get mad because they got stuck. She got mad because she’d specifically told them they couldn’t get into the hammock. He chuckled. “So many memories, so many punishments.”

“We were a bit of a handful. I can’t imagine how she did it.”

His answer came out without even thinking about it. “With love. She loved us. Still does.”

“Love conquers all,” she murmured.

Love conquers all. Maybe it would conquer her heart and lead her back to God. “And God is love,” he remarked, quoting first John.

Valerie straightened her spine and she suddenly had to confirm her suspicion. “Brad, is the reason you left my house the night of the restaurant opening because I told you I don’t believe in God anymore?”

Her directness surprised him, and he answered honestly. “Yes. I don’t have the freedom to pursue a relationship with a woman who doesn’t have the same heart for God that I do. The Bible warns against it, and common sense tells me it would weaken my faith rather than increase hers.”

She opened her eyes and stared at him, her eyes serious, hard, searching. “My seeking has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t assume it did. I’m sure it has everything to do with being back home and getting thrown back into the mix of faithful people. You can’t hide anymore.”

“You think I’ve been hiding?”

Standing, he paced across the gazebo and looked up, spying the very edge of the box they had put up there almost fifteen years ago. He only noticed it because he knew it was there. “I think you were hurt and took it out on everyone. Acting out of that pain put you in a situation that ended up physically harmful, and that fed your hurt. The fact, though, is that you’re safe here, Valerie. You’re physically safe, you’re emotionally safe, and you’re spiritually safe. No one is going to hurt you here.”

She sat quietly for several moments, then said, “I never imagined I’d be hurt anywhere. I was wrong, though, wasn’t I? I became a victim. I turned into a victim. Do you know what that does to someone?”

“I only know what I’ve seen in you.” He crossed to her again and sat back down. “I don’t think you know how much it affects me to see the changes in you that are a result of your relationship with Tyrone. It makes me want to go let him feel my wrath. Kind of less than charitable, but there it is. I’ve talked to my dad about it and he’s given me some good solid wisdom that I need to be willing to listen to.”

“If I remember my Bible correctly, I don’t think wrath is left out of it.” She chuckled and sat up. “I very, very much want to uncover my way back to God. Can you help me?”

Brad cleared his throat as emotion tried to close it off. He held a hand out, palm up, and said, “Will you pray with me?”