Authors: Lenora Worth
M
ariel decided her uncles had run out of excuses. They didn’t seem to have a problem getting together with each other and their families on a Sunday afternoon. She had to wonder why they couldn’t do the same out at White Hill.
Today they were gathered at Uncle Kirby’s sprawling country-club house, the kids enjoying swimming in the kidney-shaped pool, while the brothers and their wives sat around underneath the canopy of a long patio table.
“Mariel, we sure are glad you called, suga’,” Uncle Adam said as he ushered Mariel and Heath to two cushioned deck chairs. “And, Heath, always good to see you, too.”
Mariel didn’t miss the hint of surprise in her relative’s expression or words at finding Heath with her. She was still surprised herself, and still wondering about that promised kiss. Putting
that
enticing image out of her mind, she said, “I’m showing off the river cities to Heath. We haven’t been over the river to Bossier yet, but I’ll make sure he sees that side of town, too.”
Uncle Adam chuckled, then handed Heath a glass of lemonade. “Are you a gambling man, Heath?”
Heath sat down, then shook his head. “No, sir. Why do you ask?”
Kirby shot his brother a frown. “We have casinos here now. Brings in the tourists, but my brother is strictly against it.”
“And my brother goes to the casinos to stand in line for the buffet,” Adam countered. “Or so he says.”
“I’ve been known to drop a buck or two in a slot machine,” Kirby replied, shrugging.
“Can we drop this distasteful subject,” Kirby’s wife, Delores said, a hand on her husband’s arm. “I want to hear all about Mariel. How you been doing over in Dallas, sweetie?”
Mariel settled into the overstuffed chair, a tight smile on her face as she gazed at her aunt. She’d always liked Aunt Dee. The woman spoke her mind and kept a tight rein on Uncle Kirby. “I’m doing okay. Just a little restless lately. That why I agreed to come home when Granny called me.”
“She snapped her fingers and you came running,” Bree, Adam’s wife stated with a lift of her perfectly plucked brown eyebrows.
Mariel glanced at her Aunt Breanna—her aunts were known as Dee and Bree, since they were practically inseparable anyway—thinking the older woman hadn’t changed her bleached hairstyle or her uppity attitude since she’d left her sorority sisters back at Centenary College. “Granny needed me, Aunt Bree. That’s why I’m here.”
“Now really,” Bree said, leaning forward, her gold rope-chain necklace clinking on the glass-topped table. “Do you honestly want to move back to Louisiana and run that old lily farm?”
“I’m thinking about it, yes,” Mariel said, her defenses
rising. No wonder Granny was depending on her. None of this shallow-headed bunch had the brawn to run the farm.
Kirby got up to turn the steaks cooking on the massive gas grill by the pool. “Now, honey, you know how Mama gets. She gets these crazy notions and as she says, that’s that. You don’t have to listen to her. And we’d certainly understand if you’re just humoring her.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Mariel asked, her gaze locking with Heath’s for a moment. He looked as shocked and uncomfortable as she felt.
“Sometimes we have to humor the elderly,” Bree said, throwing a bejeweled hand in the air. “Sadie has good intentions, but…it’s time to give that old place up.”
“She’s not ready to sell out,” Heath said, his blue eyes blazing with fire. “And why should she? The lily farm turns a nice profit each year.”
Mariel wondered if this visit had been wise after all. It was obvious that Sadie’s children cared little about the lily farm or their mother’s predicament. But Heath Whitaker did. And for that, she was extremely grateful.
Bree eyed Heath with a keen interest. “I guess you’d be out of a job if that place did shut down, hmm?”
“Aunt Bree,” Mariel said, her tone light in spite of her annoyance. “Heath is very dedicated to his work, but he understands this situation. He’s done a great deal to improve the overall operation of the farm, but he’s not trying to interfere. He was just stating a fact. Granny doesn’t want to shut down or sell the lily farm.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Kirby said, “but we don’t want to have to deal with the hassle of running the place. We told you, Mariel. We all agree with Mama’s plan.”
Mariel shook her head. “So you’re willing to let me inherit the majority stock of the place, just so you don’t have to deal with it. And what about your inheritance?”
“What about it?” Adam asked. “If you decide to keep
the place going, we’ll get part of the profits as silent partners.”
“But not
working
partners,” Mariel replied.
“We’d rather sell,” Aunt Bree said, her eyes a cold blue as she gazed down at her perfect red nails. “Mariel, suga’, we simply don’t have time to take care of that old place. It’s either sell or let someone else do the work.”
“While you get part of the profits?”
“If that’s the only compromise, yes.”
Mariel got up, watching as Heath did the same. Their eyes met and she knew he was probably thinking this family was hopeless. Don’t count on them, he was telling her.
But Mariel was too stubborn to listen. “You know, I didn’t really come here to hash this out. I came to ask all of you and your children—” she glanced at the pool where the teenagers and several friends splashed and shouted “—to a family get-together on Easter. Out at the farm. You can come for church and stay for Easter dinner.”
Everyone started talking at once, each with an excuse as to why that couldn’t happen.
“We have our own church here in town,” Aunt Bree said, getting up to pour herself another glass of lemonade. “You can’t expect us to drag the children out there for the whole day.”
“I’m extending the invitation anyway,” Mariel said, her gaze touching on her aunt Delores. She’d noticed her aunt had been very quiet during this whole discussion. “What do you think, Aunt Dee?”
Dee stayed still in her chair, but her smile was full of understanding. Running a hand through her clipped gray-tinged curls, she asked, “Well, does Sadie want us to come out on Easter Sunday?”
“Of course she does,” Mariel replied. “You all have to understand—she gets lonely. And she’s been sick. What
could it hurt to have her family around her on Easter? Is that too much to ask?”
Uncle Kirby glanced at his wife. “Dee, I can see those wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. What are you thinking?”
Dee gave her husband a sweet smile, but her hazel eyes held a tinge of steel. “I’m thinking Mariel is right. We should spend Easter with Sadie. We used to have these big get-togethers out at the farm when the children were little, but we’ve lost that tradition somehow over the last few years.”
Bree rolled her over-eye-shadowed eyes. “Now, Dee, you know perfectly well since we’ve moved into this neighborhood we always have Easter lunch at the club—and we do invite Sadie each and every year. Besides, I’ve already bought a new dress and everything.”
“You can wear it to church out at White Hill,” Dee replied in a saccharine tone. “Then you can wear it to regular church and the club the next Sunday…and show it off twice.”
Bree gazed over at her, a hand on one hip as she sat back in her chair. “Dee, you take the cake. I’d never thought of it that way. But…still, I’d hate to miss going to church on Easter. I mean,
everybody
comes on that day.”
“Yes, the Christmas and Easter crowd does show up,” Adam replied tartly, winking at his wife.
Bree made a face, but shut up. Then she lifted her head toward Mariel, her big sunglasses hiding her eyes. “We’ll have to discuss this a bit more, Mariel, honey.”
Mariel saw the amused expression on Heath’s face, but she also saw the disbelief there. He’d probably never encountered anyone quite so flighty as her aunt Bree.
Wanting to leave, she said, “Well, I hope you do think about this. Granny would never command you to show up,
of course. She tries so hard to stay out of your lives. But she needs us in her life.” She smiled at Uncle Kirby. “I know you help her out a lot, and call her all the time. But sometimes, we…we just need to see each other, to share time together. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You’ve made some valid points,” Uncle Kirby replied. Then he gave Mariel a quick peck on the cheek. “We love Mama, honey. But maybe we have been neglecting her lately.”
Grateful, Mariel said, “This would mean so much to Granny. She loves
all
of her grandchildren.” She glanced out at the pool. Her cousins had barely given her a wave, let alone taken the time to visit properly. Was that how they treated their grandmother?
“And what about Evelyn?” Aunt Bree asked, a finger lowering her sunglasses so she could look straight up at Mariel. “Is she invited to this little reunion?”
“Yes, she is,” Mariel replied, a quiet need to push her aunt into the pool causing her to grip the back of a lawn chair. “I’m going to call her tonight.”
“That’s sweet,” Bree replied as she pushed her glasses back up on her nose. “And good luck with that, too.”
Aunt Delores shot her sister-in-law a disapproving look, then got up to walk Mariel to the gate. “We’ll let you know about Easter, Mariel. But thanks for talking to us.” She smiled at Heath. “Are you sure you won’t stay for a late lunch?”
“We already ate,” Mariel replied, relief washing over her. Maybe Aunt Delores and Uncle Kirby would coax the rest of them to come and visit Sadie. “I hope I didn’t make waves, Aunt Dee,” she said as her aunt looped an arm through hers. Then she laughed. “No, on second thought, I’m glad I did ruffle a few feathers.”
“You were right to do so,” Dee replied. “We haven’t been very attentive to Sadie, and I’ll admit I’m as guilty
as the rest. We get so caught up in our own lives….” She shrugged, then hugged Mariel. “But you did the right thing, since Sadie would never complain herself. I’m going to try and do better by her, I promise.” Then she leaned close again. “And I’ll push it with the rest of the clan, too.”
“Thanks,” Mariel said. She waved goodbye as she and Heath walked toward the car.
“That went well,” Heath said, his crooked smile for her eyes only.
“Better than I could have imagined,” she retorted on a sarcastic note. “I’m sure I won them over with diplomacy and my sweet nature.”
“If it helps, you sure won me over,” he told her.
It did help, but Mariel wasn’t ready to admit that yet.
T
hey were sitting beneath a towering live oak, watching the Red River flow by on its way to split between the mighty Mississippi midstate and the Atchafalaya Bay at the Gulf of Mexico.
“This water flows over five states,” Mariel said, wondering why she’d decided to give Heath a geography lesson. “It starts in New Mexico and then crosses Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Louisiana.” Grinning, she added, “Inquiring minds want to know that.”
“Fascinating,” Heath replied, his eyes on her instead of the river.
The wind picked up, giving a measure of relief from the sun’s warm heat. Somewhere in a cottonwood tree, a mockingbird fussed and preached.
“I could fall asleep right here,” Mariel said, acutely aware of his eyes on her, and his earlier promise to kiss her. She was far from sleepy, but she refused to let her racing pulse or Heath’s nearness give her the jitters.
Then he inched closer.
“Here, lean on me,” he said, the husky tremor of his
words caressing her skin right along with the soft spring breeze. Without waiting for her to reply, he tugged her close until they were both reclining against the ancient tree’s massive trunk. Then he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her against his chest. “Comfortable now?”
Mariel thought about pulling away, but it felt so good, so right, being there, that she couldn’t move. So she sighed. “Hmm, yes, I guess I am comfortable.”
“You guess?”
“I think.”
“Don’t think,” he replied. “Just close your eyes and rest. You just faced the lions and came out pretty much unscathed.”
She did shut her eyes, but found it hard to relax with his heart beating so close to her ear, and in the same rhythm as her own. “So you consider my relatives lions?”
“‘Lions, and tigers and bears,”’ he quoted. She could feel his chuckle all the way down his chest. “Especially Aunt Bree.”
Mariel laughed, too. “Bree and Dee—one catty and one caring. It’s always been that way. Aunt Dee’s kindness balances Aunt Bree’s self-centered nature. They’re really okay, once you learn how to handle them.”
“Well, you did a good job. You stood up to them. It just shows how much you love your grandmother.”
“I do love her,” Mariel replied as she snuggled into his arms. “Granny took care of me when I needed her, so now it’s my turn.”
She felt his finger on her chin. Opening her eyes, Mariel also felt the intense heat of his gaze. “What?” she managed to whisper, suddenly becoming
un
comfortable.
“Not many successful career women your age would say that.”
“I’m not like other women.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
She knew he was going to kiss her, finally. She lifted toward him, her arms going around his neck, as he lowered his head to hers. His lips were soft and sweet, a pleasant contrast to his callused fingers moving across her face. Mariel shifted, her fingers touching on his silky, sun-washed, too-long hair.
In the background, she could hear the sounds of the city. Cars moving on the parkway to the west, horns blaring downtown. Children laughing as they came out of a nearby museum. The sound of a distant train whistle sending out a lonely wail.
And just a faint bubbling, the river below them, moving in a never-ending cycle through swamps and tributaries to the faraway ocean.
Mariel felt as if she were caught up in that current, her limbs becoming washed with a warm sweetness that felt like a cleansing purge.
Heath held her, kissed her mouth, her face, her hair. Then he lifted his head and gave her that endearing half smile. “Now that was worth the wait.”
His words brought Mariel up, as if she’d just broken through the waters. “What are we doing?”
“Kissing,” he replied, a finger to her mouth.
“No, I mean what are we
really
doing?”
As if sensing her sudden bout of fear, Heath held her away. “We’re…following our hearts? Exploring the possibilities? I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know, either,” Mariel replied, a warm heat slipping over her flushed body. “I…don’t know where this is going.” She looked out over the river, then glanced back at him. “What if I don’t…agree to Granny’s proposal?”
“What if?” He didn’t seem too worried about that either way.
Mariel didn’t know whether to be sad or glad over the
calm way he’d answered her. “What if I go back to Dallas?”
“I’ll come visit you there—always wanted to see the Big D.”
That only confused her. “You mean, you intend to follow this to the end, regardless of what decision I make about the farm.”
He stared at her for a long time, his unwavering eyes holding his intentions behind a controlled mist. “Yep. I think I just decided that. Must have been the kiss.”
His eyes washed over her, making her feel as if she were back in that raging river again. She didn’t know if she could survive the depth of these feelings, or the alluring pull of his calmness. “Heath, I just dumped my boyfriend.”
“So?”
“So I’m confused, hurt, spinning—”
“I thought you’d stopped spinning.”
“I thought so, too. But now, right this very minute, my head is spinning.
You
—you’re causing this.”
“Let’s kiss on it—maybe then your head will feel better.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Let’s try it and see.”
He leaned close again, then lifted her to him, his arms strong on her back. Mariel didn’t resist. She liked his kisses. Liked him. A lot.
But what she didn’t like was the uncertainty of it all.
“I’m afraid,” she managed to say between kisses.
“Me, too,” he said on a whisper just past her ear.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you’re willing to…try?”
“Yep.”
“How can you do that?”
Heath gave up on kissing, for the moment. Then he pulled her close again. “I’m putting my faith in God. In His plan for us.”
“You think He has a plan for us?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“You and Granny sure make a formidable team.”
“We have the Lord on our side.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I mean, I’m not as sure as you seem.”
He looked down at her then, his finger back on her chin. “Then let me help you—to be sure. I can show you all the small quiet miracles God allows for us, each and every day. I showed you how to handle the lilies, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and I appreciate—”
“I want more than appreciation, Mariel.”
In his eyes she saw what he wanted.
And even through her haze of fear, Mariel saw that same want inside her own heart. “We still don’t know each other very well,” she said, trying to be rational.
“I know what’s important,” he replied, his fingers playing through her hair. “I saw you that day, walking toward the lilies field, and I just…knew. And since then, you’ve proven yourself in more ways than I ever dreamed. You’ve worked hard, tackling whatever task I handed out, from potting bulbs to weeding the gardens, to washing up manure. You respect the other workers and…you respect your grandmother. You love White Hill. I can see that clearly enough. And you’ve come home, Mariel. You’ve come home to your faith and your center. That’s all I need to know.” Then he grinned. “And besides, you’re so easy to look at, so pretty, so tempting.” He said this with a kiss for each compliment.
Mariel swallowed the lump in her throat. No matter how hard she’d worked at creating vivid artwork on Web sites, no one had ever complimented her on her hard work or
her inherent need to respect other people. Her bosses had hinted she needed to be more assertive, more ruthless. And Simon had teased her about being so old-fashioned and “countrified,” as he used to put it.
The very traits she’d tried so hard to fight off and change for everyone in the big city were the things Heath had just admired about her.
“I’m not so sure I’m all those things,” she said, her mother’s bitterness and her father’s abandonment clouding her mind. “You don’t know everything about me, Heath.”
“But I’m willing to hear it all,” he replied. “We all have bad times, Mariel. We all have things we’d rather keep buried inside.”
“You, too?”
“Me, too,” he said. “My parents had a perfect marriage, but I never said they had a perfect son.”
Mariel couldn’t imagine this gentle, poetic man as anything but perfect. And yet, she sensed a steel inside him, a steel forged from hard knocks and tough life lessons.
“Maybe we do have some things in common, after all,” she told him.
“We’ve got some time to find out.” He pushed her hair off her face, his eyes touching on her. “There’s no rush. No rush at all. It’s a new spring, with new flowers everywhere. And those flowers will bloom in God’s own time. That always gives us hope.”
Mariel became hopeful for the first time in a very long time. She decided maybe she
should
start listening to her heart. And…to those lilies in the field.
By the time they got back to the farm, the sun was setting in pink and gold hues toward the west, out over the stretching green and white of the big field.
Mariel parked the car, her eyes gazing out over the lilies
peeking just over the ridge. “They’ll be in full bloom soon,” she said to Heath.
He nodded, glanced out into the dusk. “It’s a beautiful sight to behold. The walking tours will start next week. And the on-site store will open. I’ll need your help.”
“I used to work during the tours,” Mariel replied, warm memories making her smile as she recalled the hundreds of locals and tourists alike who made the drive out to White Hill each spring to buy lilies or have their pictures taken in their Easter finery in front of the famous naturalized field. “Granny started me out with my own lemonade stand, then advanced me to a salesclerk in the nursery store. Before I left for college, I got pretty good at helping people pick out bulbs and blooming flowers.”
“You do know how it works.” Heath leaned back on his seat, his eyes on her. “Which is why Sadie trusts you to keep the farm going. Do you realize you are the only one who keeps coming back, Mariel? Her sons keep tabs on her and help her, but they don’t actually get their hands dirty, working in the greenhouses and fields. But you, you’ve actually lived here, worked here—and from what Sadie tells me, you come back each spring to help out and enjoy the blooming season.”
“I’ve tried to be here whenever I could,” Mariel replied. “I mean, it’s home.” She watched as the burning sun glistened like a golden halo just over the horizon. “You want to hear something else about me? Something I don’t talk about much?”
“Sure,” he said, his finger moving down her arm. “What?”
“I used to paint pictures of the lilies. For a long time, I wanted to be an artist. Granny encouraged this, and urged me to set up my easel and paint the lilies. So the two years I lived here with her during high school, I took art classes and painted. Even won some awards through the art coun
cil’s ArtBreak—that’s a student art festival they put on each spring.”
“That’s great,” he said. “Do you still paint?”
“No. Not on canvas anyway. I miss painting with a brush.”
“Do you still have some of your paintings here?”
She shrugged. “I sold some of them—to tourists. And I think Granny kept a few. I know a couple of them are hanging in her bedroom.”
“And why don’t you talk about this? Don’t you do graphic art now in your work?”
“Yes, but that’s different. That’s computerized—a different kind of challenge.”
She stared out into the sloping field, the scent of the lilies washing over her like a thousand showers of sweet perfume. “I—I think I want to paint again.”
Heath sat up, tilted his head at her. “What’s stopping you?”
“Fear,” she admitted, almost relieved to have her secret dream out in the open. “I have a degree in Liberal Art, studied art in college. But my practical side won over. I also studied computer graphics and soon realized I could actually eat and pay rent if I went in that direction.”
“You didn’t want to be a starving artist?”
“No. I didn’t have the courage to test that theory.”
“But now?”
“But now, I think I’m ready to try.”
“I understand. And I think you should get those paint-brushes out again.”
Mariel looked over at him. He looked sincere, his eyes full of encouragement. “You are so different from Simon.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Simon always teased me about painting. Said I needed
to stick to what I was good at—the thing that paid the bills—the graphic art.”
Heath leaned close, touched a finger to her nose. “Well, now you don’t have to do what Simon says, do you?”
She grinned, leaned her forehead against his. “No, I don’t. I can’t begin to tell you how good that feels.”
“I can see it in your smile,” Heath told her. Then he kissed her. “Paint your pictures, Mariel. Go for it. You know what you should do? Paint a portrait of Sadie sitting in front of the lily field.”
Mariel opened her mouth, shut it. “I don’t know if I could do that. It’s been a while.”
“It’ll come back to you,” he said. “I think as you sit and paint your grandmother and the lilies, you’ll find your answers.”
“And God?” she asked, hopeful.
“Oh, He’s been there all along,” Heath replied. “He’s just been waiting for you to come back home.”
Hot tears sprang to Mariel’s eyes. She wanted to believe Heath’s gentle encouragement, wanted to cling to his persuasive testimonies. But how? How did she find the courage to turn it all over to the Lord?
“Just keep listening, Mariel,” Heath said, as if he’d read her mind. “Just listen and it will happen. God’s love will pour over you and then…you’ll understand.”
“I hope you’re right.”
They sat silent then, watching as the last rays of the spring sunshine slipped silently behind the trees to the west.
But Heath held her hand the whole time.
Darkness came and a gentle hush fell all around them. And for a brief time, Mariel felt the peace of God’s love surrounding her.