After the Rains (30 page)

“Evan, it’s
not
a crazy idea! Why can’t you support me in this?” Natalie glanced around her and realized that she had raised her voice to a level that was attracting the attention of fellow diners in the food court at the student union. She pushed her fried rice around on her plate with a plastic fork and lowered her tone to a whisper. “Can’t you understand why this is so important to me?”

Evan held his palms face out to her, and she recognized the long-suffering look that came to his face. He was going to pretend he understood even as he tried to talk her out of it. She was too tired to call him on it.

“Natalie, he’s your father. Of course I understand why you’d want to go see him. See him ‘in his element,’ as you say. But, come on, admit it: Your timing makes no sense whatsoever. Why don’t you at least wait until summer—or better yet, wait until the following summer. Then you’ll have your degree under your belt and possibly even a job to come back to. You have less than three semesters to go. I don’t see why—”

“Evan Greenway,” she broke in, “you know as well as I do that there’s no way I’ll graduate in three semesters.”

“Well, if you hadn’t changed majors ten times …” His voice trailed off and he remained silent.

“Hey, can I help it if I still don’t have a clue what I want to do with my life? But don’t you see? That’s just it. Maybe this will help me decide.”

“What are you talking about, Natalie? Decide what? What is it you want?” The look on his face was that of a frightened boy, and she decided this would not be a good time to voice the thoughts that had refused to leave her alone for the last two weeks.

Instead she looked pointedly at her watch. “You’re going to be late.”

He looked at his own watch, and she could tell by the way his eyes darted between her and his book bag that he was seriously considering skipping class to finish their discussion. But she knew if he missed this
economics class he would regret it later, and that would add a whole new dimension to their argument.

“We can talk about this later, okay?” she told him, sliding out of the booth and picking up her tray of half-eaten vegetables and rice from the tabletop.

He sighed and slid out behind her. They emptied their trash into a nearby receptacle, and he gave her a quick kiss before he melted in with the throng of students headed for afternoon classes. Natalie watched him walk away, and her heart twisted.

Though he was finished forever with casts and crutches, Evan still walked with a mild limp. Though many wouldn’t even notice, she saw it clearly—more pronounced when he was tired or troubled, like now.

Watching him until she could no longer find him in the crowd, her heart ached.

She cared deeply for Evan. So why did she feel so melancholy watching him walk away? She wasn’t sure. And yet she suspected that it all had to do with this unknown impending
something
in her own life.

As she walked back to her car, and later as she drove to the apartment, she prayed.
Lord, I’m not sure what’s going on, but help me sort it all out. Help me find what I’m looking for, Father. Please
.

Twenty–Five

N
atalie brought her fingers down hard on the keyboard of her computer and harrumphed under her breath. Nobody ever took her seriously. She deleted the errant alphabet that had skittered across the computer screen at her outburst of anger, and, sighing, she read her father’s e-mail again.

Well, at least he hadn’t completely ignored her question this time. The first time she’d written to him about her desire to visit him in Colombia, he had sent back a friendly e-mail that discussed the weather and not much more. She had e-mailed him back promptly, telling him that she was quite serious and that she was, in fact, thinking about coming soon.

This time he had started his reply with the usual news and thoughtful questions about her life, but at the end he’d placed a carefully worded response that seemed to purposely misunderstand the fact that she wanted to visit soon—and that seemed intent on discouraging her. It was almost as though he’d discussed it with Mom and Daddy, and with Evan.

Once again, she read his words.

Naturally I’m delighted that you want to visit me, Nattie. Of course, things are always very volatile in Colombia. One never knows from day to day whether the airports will be open, or whether it will be safe to navigate the Guaviare. We’ve had paramilitary at the airport in San José del Guaviare routinely throughout this year, although there haven’t been any violent incidents recently. The mission’s airstrip at Conzalez has not been affected so far, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to say the same next year.

I assume if you come it would be the summer after graduation. I’d hoped to surprise you and come for your graduation. Maybe we could arrange to fly back together. And perhaps I can help with your expenses as part of your graduation gift. At any
rate, I am excited to think of showing off Timoné to you, and I do hope it will work out for you to visit. But we have plenty of time to work out the details.

I assume this is all acceptable to your mother and to Cole. I’m sure you can understand that I want to be certain they have given their go-ahead and their blessing to this before I get involved.

We’ll talk about all this more when the time gets closer.

With much love,
Dad

She sighed again in frustration. Like everyone else, he seemed intent on putting her off. But he didn’t know her well enough—she would not be discouraged so easily. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she longed to make this trip.

Mom and Daddy had been cautiously in favor of her plan—until she told them that she wanted to go before the end of the school term. Until she told them that she wanted to stay indefinitely. Then they were adamantly against it.

“That would be foolish, Nattie,” Daddy said. “You’d be throwing away a whole semester of college.”

Mom agreed, adding, “Besides, I don’t think you realize the danger involved, honey. You don’t just hop on a plane and you’re there. Even in the best of circumstances, it’s a rough trip through dangerous territory.”

Evan, too, though he claimed to support the idea of her going, did not approve of her timing. Even Grandma and Grandpa Camfield and Aunt Betsy—whom she’d thought would be 100 percent on her side—encouraged her to get her degree first, or at the very least finish the semester and wait to go in the summer. She understood the concerns they all had. She knew that it seemed foolish to waste a semester that was already paid for. But something stronger than a mere desire to see her father was pushing her toward this destiny. She had prayed about all the advice she was getting. She didn’t want to do something foolish, and still she felt that there was some reason that she must go.

Unbidden, Natalie’s thoughts turned to Sara, and a battle began in her mind. The happy memories of the friendship she and Sara had shared warred with the memories of the accident and its aftermath. As always, the good memories quickly turned bittersweet in the fray, and a painful twist in the pit of her stomach proved her guilt. Long forgiven, yes, but never forgotten. “Forgotten” was a joke. She might have played along at the game that everyone seemed so set on playing—pretending that the tragedy was over, that they had all healed from the damage she’d done. But she knew the truth. They might have forgiven her—truly forgiven. But no one would ever forget.
Ever
.

The doorbell relieved her of the troubling thoughts. She glanced at the clock on her computer and gasped. It was six o’clock! She had promised Evan she’d go to dinner with him, and here she sat still in her rumpled jogging pants, her hair a mess.

She raced to the bathroom, yanked a hairbrush through the tangled curtain of hair, ran back to the door, and opened it.

Evan took one look at her and made a face that said,
I knew you wouldn’t be ready on time
.

She made a visor of her hand and hid her eyes behind it. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, trying to appease him. “I was on the computer, and I completely lost track of time.” Her voice gained steam as she made her excuses. “But I got an e-mail from Dad, and I had to answer it.”

He looked at her, and she could tell he was mildly amused but not buying her explanations.

“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be out the door. I’m more ready than I look. Really.”

He just stood in the doorway and shook his head, as though she were a hopeless case. She planted a penitent kiss on his cheek, took his arm, and escorted—or rather dragged—him to the sofa. He fell onto the cushions and took a pose that said he expected to be there awhile. She opened a magazine and placed it on his lap—never mind it was the new issue of
Today’s Christian Woman
—and raced back to the bedroom to change clothes and freshen her makeup.

When Natalie had not appeared after ten minutes, Evan put the magazine down and wandered through the large combination living-dining-kitchen area. Natalie’s computer sat on an old desk at one end of the dining area. He didn’t really intend to pry, but the e-mail was right there on the screen and difficult to ignore. Only part of the letter was visible, but Evan read Nathan Camfield’s words. It seemed Natalie was more determined than ever to make this crazy trip to South America. He and Natalie had argued about it for two weeks. In fact, it was all they’d talked about since she first got this crazy bug in her ear.

He went back into the living room and paced back and forth on the worn green carpeting, his growing impatience caused by more than Natalie’s tardiness for their dinner date.

He sighed. He truly didn’t have anything against her going to see her father, at least for a short visit. But she seemed intent on something longer. It seemed ridiculous to go now. What was her rush? Maybe, if things went as he hoped, she’d be ready to settle down then. If he was established in a good job, maybe they could get married. They could visit Colombia together then.

She had been right when she told him that there was no way she would graduate a year from May. But if she didn’t blow it, she might make it by the following December.

His own career plans had been carefully thought out, and he was right on schedule to achieve them. He didn’t appreciate her throwing this wrench in the plan. He knew what he wanted in life, and he’d worked hard for it. As much as he loved Natalie, she sometimes frustrated him to distraction.

But he was a soft touch where Natalie Camfield was concerned, and he had to admit that none of what he wanted in life would be worth it without her at his side. He just didn’t like her forcing his hand this way.

She punctuated his thoughts by appearing in the doorway, looking beautiful as ever. Her hair swung just above her shoulders like a glossy yellow
silk curtain, and her skin glowed from a fresh scrubbing. She had changed into a pair of olive corduroys and his favorite sweater. He knew at that moment that he was a goner. He would never be able to deny this woman anything.

She had turned his life upside down for more than a decade now—ever since she’d walked into their fifth-grade classroom at Bristol Elementary and stolen the stubby No. 2 pencil off his desk. She’d stolen more than a pencil that day—she’d stolen his heart. And in the loving, they’d both healed from the wounds of their shared tragedy.

Yet Natalie seemed so restless lately. He couldn’t seem to fill her longings the way he had at first. He didn’t seem to be enough for her anymore.

“Are you going to be mad at me all night?” Natalie’s affected pout jerked him to the present, and he realized she’d been standing there for a while.

“What? No … no, I can’t ever be mad at you for very long.”

“Just not speaking to me?” she asked, her head cocked coyly.

He shook his head like a dog trying to shake off a bath. “Sorry. I was … I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.” He went to the door and held it open for her. “Ready?”

She gave him a strange look but went down the stairs ahead of him.

They were both quiet on the way to the restaurant. They ate at a corner table, making small talk, but when the waitress cleared away their dishes and brought coffee, Natalie said, “So, are you going to tell me what has you so pensive tonight, Mr. Greenway?”

“I’ve been thinking about us.”

A flicker of worry crossed her face. “Judging by the look on your face, I’d say they weren’t necessarily good thoughts.”

Suddenly it seemed the right thing to do. He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I don’t think I appreciate you enough, Natalie.”

Her face was a mask of bewilderment. “Appreciate me?”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I don’t tell you often enough how much you mean to me, how much I love you.”

She smiled. “Oh, Evan. That’s so sweet. I love you too.”

“Natalie, I’ve just assumed you’d always be there for me, assumed you’d always love me. But lately when you talk about going to be with your dad, going half a world away, to the most dangerous place on earth—well, it’s made me think about some things.”