Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents) (10 page)

Chapter 12

L
ate October came to the North Shore, and with it the exhilaration of a New England fall. Olivia left the institute after a long afternoon of lectures for undergraduates and lab work, her brain still reeling from her independent study course on the migration of cetaceans.

If she hadn’t taken Terry’s offer of a job this past summer, she wouldn’t have been here for Dad. Olivia offered a prayer of thanks as she drove home, anticipating a supper of homemade pasta with her father and Frank.

Three weeks ago her father had come home from the hospital. After a nail-biting biopsy that confirmed a cancerous growth, her father had started radiation treatments to help shrink the growth before surgery.

Then there was tomorrow. By this time tomorrow, her father would be recovering from surgery, having part of his lung removed. The most stubborn man she had ever known would soon be dependent on her for many things, at least for a while.

A familiar Jeep zoomed by in the Fairport traffic. There went the second most stubborn man Olivia had ever known. She hadn’t spoken to Jonathan since the morning in the hospital when they’d found out the CAT scan results. Several times, she’d looked at his number on her phone, then stopped short of pushing the button. What was there to say?

Olivia pulled into the driveway and noticed her father had company. Frances O’Leary stood on the porch, facing the front door and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Olivia gathered her briefcase and tote bag, and met the woman on the porch. “Hi, Mrs. O’Leary.” Her throat had sawdust in it as she recalled their last meeting, the ugly confrontation in the grocery store last summer.

“I’m stopping by to let you and your father know that the Fishermen’s Wives Auxiliary plans to drop off meals over the next two weeks while your father recovers from surgery.” Frances’s mouth had deeper lines around it than Olivia remembered.

“Thanks, Frances. Um, would you like to come in for some coffee or something? I’m going to be starting supper soon, but I think Dad will be happy to have a visitor.”

As Olivia expected, a look of surprise crossed Frances’s face. “I’m afraid I can’t stay today, but when I bring my meal for you, I’ll stay a while. We’ll—we’ll be praying for your dad tomorrow.” With that, Frances shouldered her purse and left for her car.

Olivia’s dad was checking his email when she entered the front room. “How’s it going, Dad?” She planted a kiss on his head.

“I’m hungry. I want to hurry up and eat before seven since I can’t eat later. So, hop to it.” He clicked on the mouse.

“You got it.” Olivia kicked her shoes off and set her briefcase on the floor next to the desk. “By the way, Frances O’Leary was outside. She said the Fishermen’s Wives Auxiliary is making some meals for us after you get home from the hospital.”

“Isn’t that nice of them? I sure hope Frances doesn’t make her prize meat loaf. Tastes like compressed cardboard.”

Olivia laughed as she walked to the kitchen. “When did you have her meat loaf?”

“Oh, before you came along your mother and I used to visit with the O’Learys quite a bit. Nice couple.”

“Ah.” Olivia concentrated on measuring the flour for her homemade pasta. “Frank should be here soon. He had a meeting after school, but he promised to come straight over.”

“Good, good. He’s a nice young man. As steady as they come. I’m glad you’ve got a new friend.”

Olivia let the subject of her relationship with Frank alone. But she had to agree she was glad for his friendship. He would pray with her, listen to her and make her laugh at his adventures in the classroom. And hopefully, she was good for him, too.

Frank arrived just as Olivia had put the Alfredo sauce mixture on the stove to reheat. He brought a bouquet of wildflowers for the table and a jug of homemade apple cider.

“It’ll be just the thing on a cold night like tonight,” Frank said. “I brought some paperwork for school to catch up on. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ve got some ideas to organize for my dissertation.” But Olivia had planned on keeping herself busy tomorrow at the hospital with her paperwork.

A knock sounded at the front door just before the three of them sat down to supper.

“Now, I wonder who that could be?” Her father’s tone made Olivia’s suspicions rise.

Her father ambled to the front room while Olivia and Frank waited. The door creaked open.

“Well, hello there, Jon!” her father boomed. “C’mon in! We’re just sitting down to supper. Oh? You and Todd can set the desk in the front room.” The storm door smacked closed. Then came the sounds of struggling and something large being toted inside.

“Oh, it must be Dad’s desk,” Olivia explained to Frank. “Jonathan built it. I’m sure Dad’s thrilled it’s finished before he goes in for surgery.”
And I just bet he’s thrilled at tonight’s timing.

“Jonathan seems to be one talented man.”

“Yes, he is. Would you like some salad?” Olivia passed the bowl to Frank. Their fingers brushed and heat rushed to her face without her expecting it. If she knew her dad at all, he’d invite Jonathan to supper.

* * *

If Olivia had invited him for supper instead of Sam, Jonathan would have said no. He would have assumed Olivia was inviting him because she had to. Sam did because he wanted to.

He followed Sam—and Frank’s cologne trail—to the dining room, where Olivia sat, blushing, across from Frank. She leaped to her feet and darted to the kitchen cabinets and returned with another plate and a place setting for him.

“Thanks, Liv.”

“You’re welcome.” She passed him the bowl of steaming pasta. “So, how’s the fishing been?”

“It could be better. The past two runs barely covered expenses. One of the guys might call it quits for the season.” He hadn’t wanted to talk about his problems tonight.

Frank spoke up. “Can you get a replacement?”

“Probably.” Was this guy here every night after school, a stack of papers under his arm?

Shame rushed over Jonathan at his uncharitable thoughts. Frank was a Christian brother. But from the glances Frank gave Olivia across the table during the meal, Jonathan guessed Frank wanted to be more than brotherly to Olivia.

If Olivia wanted a man with a safe, stable occupation, Frank was ideal for her. The other three at the table laughed at a joke Frank told, that a student had told him. Jonathan smiled, not wanting to show he’d missed the punch line because he’d zoned out.

After supper, Sam and Jonathan moved the contents from Sam’s old desk to the new one. Olivia was heating up some apple cider in the kitchen, and the sweet smell made Jonathan’s mouth water.

“Hope this works.” Frank turned on Sam’s computer. “All right, you’re back in business, Sam.”

“Here, guys.” Olivia stood in the archway that separated the front room from the living room. She held a tray with four mugs of steaming cider. “I put cinnamon sticks in, so take ’em out if you don’t like them.”

“Thanks.” Jonathan helped himself to a mug.

Sam hunched over the new desk and initiated the internet connection. “Jon, let me show you this engine website I found. I might have found the schematics for that engine that’s been troubling you.”

“Liv,” Frank said as he held open the front door, “c’mon outside. We’ll enjoy the fall air.”

Jonathan didn’t bother to look at her when she passed the new desk. He looked at the technical drawing instead. “Can you print that out for me, please?”

Sam hit the button. “Here it comes.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked Sam. The door clicked behind Olivia and Jonathan breathed easier.

“As ready as a body can be.” Sam sighed and stood upright. “Figure I’m getting what I deserve.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Liv’s nagged at me for years to quit the smoking, and I didn’t listen.” Sam blinked at the computer screen. “I’m being punished. And I’m scared.”

Jonathan prayed for the right words. “God loves you, Sam. He wants the best for you. I know He disciplines his children, what dad doesn’t sometimes? But that you’re being punished, how can you say that for sure?”

Another ragged breath from Sam, followed by a cough. “I don’t know...”

“Okay, what if you kept every lobster you trapped, even the small ones, then what would happen to the lobster population?”

“Well, it would go down.”

“It doesn’t mean lobsters are meant to die out and become extinct?”

“Course not. Trapping and keeping undersized lobsters would make the population go down. It’s a natural effect.” Jonathan saw realization dawn in Sam’s eyes.

“Then what’s happening to you now is probably a natural effect of your habit.”

Sam nodded. “The radiation shrunk the tumor, did I tell you?”

“No. God’s watching out for you.” Emboldened, Jonathan continued. “Could I pray with you about the surgery tomorrow?” Jonathan’s throat swelled at the thought of anything happening to this dear man who’d become like a second father to him.

“I’d like that.”

They bowed their heads.

* * *

Olivia heard the murmuring voices inside the house. Outside in the chilly air, part of her wanted to remain indoors. But Frank’s idea was a good one. She shivered involuntarily.

A warmth settled around her shoulders, and Frank’s hand brushed her hair. “Is that better?”

“Er, I’m fine, thanks.” She sipped her cider, feeling like an adolescent. Was this really what she wanted? “Sorry, I just need to walk around a little. I feel fidgety tonight.”

The last night she’d been on the porch with someone, she’d been with Jonathan. Olivia remembered sharing part of her heart and part of her fear with him. Her lips tingled with the memory of the almost-kiss.

How had she ended up on the porch with someone else, then? It had been her choice, she reminded herself. The last day Jonathan had piloted for the whale-watching tours, Olivia had resigned herself to letting him go.

“I’ll make sure Uncle Isadore keeps up with your dad’s lobster pots.” Frank interrupted her pondering and pacing the porch.

“Thanks. It helps to know that Dad and I have such good friends.” She turned and faced Frank, who had settled onto the porch swing.

He set his mug on the little table and joined her at the porch railing. “You’re a special woman, Olivia Shea. A man would be a fool not to recognize that.”

She couldn’t breathe. She shouldn’t have come out on the porch with him. He was too close....

The front door opened and the porch light came on. Olivia blinked. Her face suffused with heat, she turned to focus on Jonathan who had said something to her father inside.

Then his eyes met hers. “Good night, Liv. I’ll stop by the hospital to see Sam before I ship out again. G’night, Frank.”

He walked to his Jeep without a backward glance and sped off into the night.

* * *

“Maggie, I’m glad you’re here.” Olivia shivered in the hospital hallway. She despised the antiseptic smell that turned her stomach. “I know Todd watches over you like a hawk, and I’m honored he’s let you be here while Dad’s in surgery.”

Maggie looked like she’d hidden a beach ball under her oversized sweater. She smiled and rubbed her stomach. “What better place for an extremely gravid woman like myself to be?”

They linked arms and continued to the chapel. Olivia allowed herself a chuckle, a sound that seemed rather frivolous lately. “I can always count on you to make me laugh.”

She pushed through the wooden door and into the serene chapel, dimly lit and smelling of fresh lemon furniture polish. A dark-haired woman was sitting in the front row, her head bowed reverently.

Olivia settled onto the nearest bench and made room for Maggie. “This is such a peaceful place. A storm could be going on outside and you’d never know.”

“Yes, I could fall asleep here quite easily.” Maggie yawned.

“So, how are you feeling? You look, as you put it, quite gravid. I should have come by more often, instead of just to talk about work.”

“Hey, the whales program has taken off. I’ve been getting nothing but rave reviews by email. And it’s thanks to you.” Maggie bit her lip as though she wanted to say more.

“It was your project. I’m just following your directions. Speaking of which, pray for me. I’m going out with Rusty on his tagging program. We’re combining our efforts for our theses. He’s going to tag some of the whales and track their migration. For my help, I’m getting access to his data.” Olivia lowered her voice further when the lady in the front row cast a quick glance to where they sat. “Anyway, with Dad recovering from surgery and all, I don’t know how to fit it all in. And I won’t leave Dad longer than I have to.”

“Don’t worry. If you’ve got to go out—and I know you do—I’ll hang out with your dad.”

“Are you sure? He’s pretty crusty but doesn’t bite.”

“I know.” Maggie grinned. Then she gasped and touched her stomach. “Ouch. That was quite a kick, sweetie. I don’t mind being housebound for you, not one bit.”

Olivia marveled at the tiny ripple that crossed Maggie’s abdomen. “Oh, she’s strong. May I?” She reached out.

“Of course.”

Beneath her fingers resting on the woven cotton sweater, Olivia felt the surge of life. “Maggie...it’s so amazing.... I’ve read Psalm 139 many times, but this...this makes it real.”

“Someday it’ll be your turn.”

“I hope so. I really do.”

“I’m praying that you and Jonathan somehow work things out.”

Olivia removed her hand from Maggie’s stomach and sat up straighter. “Thanks, I think. Right now, though, I’m working at forgetting how I feel.” She studied a felt banner on the wall.

“Don’t let your fear make you miss out on the love of a lifetime.” Maggie’s eyes challenged her. “Plus, what’s this about you and that teacher?”

“Frank Pappalardo. We’re friends. He goes to our church, you know.”

“He’s a nice guy. Todd and I met him last week. He said he knew you, that you’d been spending time together. Betcha he keeps both feet on dry ground.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? A relationship with Frank would be safe because he’s not a fisherman?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Olivia looked at the altar aglow with soft electric candlelight. “He’s a good Christian man. Plus we have a good time together.”