Rocky Point Reunion (18 page)

 

Marcie stopped in the kitchen, catching her breath. Her heart raced. Zack had asked her to marry him—again. She'd almost said yes. She'd wanted to, but then the memory of the day after he'd told her he was leaving
flashed into mind. The heart-stopping numbness, incredible hurt. How could she risk her heart again? She had too much to deal with; she was not strong enough to manage another complication. Her father needed her. She had this wedding to contend with.

“You okay?” Prudence Cabot asked, looking up in surprise.

Marcie was afraid of what Prudence might speculate. She'd seen her follow after Zack when she'd told Marcie he'd gone out. Marcie nodded and headed toward the doorway.

Marriage. She was too afraid of having her trust shattered again to risk saying yes. He talked a good story, but as he'd said himself, only years of living in Rocky Point would show he meant what he said.

Yet for an instant she wondered if she'd made a huge mistake. She loved Zack. So what if he didn't stay—he'd come back, wouldn't he?

“Oh, there you are,” Gillian said, peeping into the kitchen. “I wondered where you went.”

“I just needed a minute,” Marcie said with a smile, and went to join her friend.

“I can't believe how wonderful everyone is with this wedding,” Gillian said as they walked back to the living room together. “You and Joe are so lucky to have grown up in one place. You have roots going back forever. And friends you've known since you were a baby.”

Marcie nodded, struck by the fact that what she took for granted was really very special to someone like Gillian, who had moved so much as a child and had no family to depend on. Even if the worst happened to her father and he died soon, Marcie would have friends who were really extended family to be there with her, to remember her father and help with anything she needed.

“Soon you'll feel like you've known everyone forever, too. We are so happy you have come to live in Rocky Point,” Marcie said.

The Cabot sisters came into the dining room bearing trays of goodies. In no time the wedding party was sampling tasty canapés, savory tidbits and fruit tarts. The sisters had even procured a small replica of a wedding cake from the bakery.

“I want that,” Jenny said, pointing to the cake when it was brought in.

“Later,” her father said with a smile.

There was plenty of food and everyone tried every dish, some more than once. Marcie was pleased with the menu and the efforts of the sisters. She insisted they join them to hear the compliments that flowed every time someone bit into a new treat.

Zack slipped in during the midst of the tasting and stayed away from Marcie, talking with Tate and Paul and keeping his gaze mostly on his plate.

Marcie felt extremely self-conscious and wanted to leave. But she would not do anything to detract from Gillian and Joe's happiness.

Once the food had been declared a total success, the group drifted back into the living room, where Gillian went over the plans for the rehearsal dinner—a barbecue at her home—and then the wedding itself.

When she announced Maud as her matron of honor, Marcie looked at Zack. His gaze flicked to her and for a moment locked on hers. If was as if he spoke his wish for her to have been his partner for the event. Then he smiled at Maud. “You'll look beautiful in the dress they chose,” he said. “Though I'm a bit tall for you.”

“I'll be just fine, boy. You watch me dance you under
the table! Sophie would be so happy knowing her great-granddaughter will be living in her house.”

“Are you sure you should be dancing?” her friend Caroline asked. “You're still recovering from a broken hip.”

“Fiddle, that's fine as can be. This is my last chance to be a matron of honor, I'm going to have a ball!” the old woman said with fervor.

Everyone laughed with Maud.

Marcie wondered if she herself would be as feisty when she was ninety-three—or even if she'd live that long. For a moment she felt sad. Maud and her husband had been happy together. But he was gone and Maud had no children. Would that be Marcie's fate? All the more reason to stay friends with Joe and Gillian and claim Jenny as honorary niece.

The phone rang and for a moment the party grew less noisy when Jenny ran to answer it in the kitchen. She came back a moment later. “Uncle Zack it's for you, that man who keeps calling about your race,” she announced.

Marcie looked at Zack and then away as he rose, excused himself and went to the kitchen.

He said nothing about the call when he returned. Once they'd finished discussing the wedding, people began to leave. Marcie went into the kitchen to help the Cabot sisters, trying to put the call out of her mind.

Prudence had wrapped the little food remaining and was stowing it in the refrigerator for the Kincaids to enjoy later. Priscilla had washed all the dishes and was drying them. Marcie pick out a clean towel and helped.

“Thank you both. Every selection was delicious,” she said as they worked harmoniously together.

“Zack's leaving,” Prudence said.

“I know.”

“This week, from what we heard. He took his call here and we couldn't help but hear his end of it.”

Marcie shrugged. “He's told everyone he's going back for a race. It's not a surprise.”

Prudence and Priscilla looked at her with concern. “How do you feel about that?”

“I'm not surprised.” She couldn't say any more. Not without thinking about his unexpected proposal a short while ago. How could he ask her when he knew he was leaving soon? He'd made no mention of that on the bluff.

“Wonder what Sean's going to do,” Priscilla said.

“About what? He still has his job with me,” Marcie said. “And hangs out at Joe's garage, which I don't see changing. Joe'll be good for him.”

“He's set some store about Zack's promise of a driving track.”

“We'll just have to see how that pans out,” Marcie said, glad to have their attention on Sean and the track and no longer on her reaction to Zack's leaving. If she could just get to her home without breaking down, she'd be fine. The heartache seemed to grow when she thought she might not see him again for months or years. Had she turned him down too quickly? Should she consider all the ways a long-distance marriage between them could work?

“Do you need anything carried out?” Zack asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Just these pans and trays,” Priscilla said, pointing to a stack on the table.

“I'll carry them for you,” he said, glancing at Marcie.

Marcie went to tell Gillian and Joe goodbye. She tried to stay as far from Zack as she could. Once in her car, she felt she could relax—except for the echo of his urgent voice asking her to marry him. Was it just being around an engaged couple who was so happy planning their wedding
that had prompted the proposal? She wished she were planning a wedding to Zack. Was it too late?

Marcie went to the restaurant, following the Cabot sisters. They unloaded the vehicles and then bid each other good-night. Once home, Marcie tried to quell her doubts, but the longing for Zack had her questioning everything.

She gave in to impulse and called him.

Joe answered and called his brother to the phone.

“Forget something?” Zack asked when he answered.

“No. Not that I know of. I, um, heard you were leaving sooner than planned and didn't know if we'd get to say goodbye this time.”

“I'm leaving Friday. I would make sure I told you goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“And I'm coming back, Marcie. As I told you.”

“Umm.”

“This is getting us nowhere. Where's your faith?”

“In Christ,” she responded instantly.

“In us?” he asked.

“There is no us. When were you going to tell me you're leaving earlier than originally planned? If I'd accepted your proposal would you have told me then?”

“I'd have asked you to go with me,” he said. “It's only one race. I'd like to have you see me race once. Especially if I win, which I usually do these days.”

It was a world she neither knew nor understood. “I think I'd have been too afraid to enjoy it.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That you'd end up like your friend. It doesn't seem worth it to drive cars in circles and end up dead.”

“There's more to it than that. But Jacques's death was hard to take. And I don't plan to end up like he did.”

“You don't know what the future holds.”

There was silence on the line. “I don't, but I'm praying about it. Maybe I'll get an answer from the Lord. Until then, I'm putting one foot in front of the other until I get wherever I'm supposed to be on this life's journey.”

“And you don't think that's racing anymore?” she asked.

“I'm not sure it ever was. I've been fortunate—blessed, really—though I don't deserve it. I was selfish ten years ago. With age has come some wisdom, I hope. And being back in Rocky Point gives me a connection that was missing. Life can be exciting and full and still empty if I'm empty inside. I'm not any longer, thanks to the Lord.”

Pleased he was rediscovering his faith in God, she wished she could step out in faith to trust he meant what he said. That he would be in Rocky Point for the rest of his life. But the memory of her broken heart, the shattered trust, was hard to overcome.

“Help my unbelief,” she said softly.

“A quote from the Bible?”

“And a prayer. Do say goodbye before you leave.”

“And hello when I return.”

“Sure.” If you return. She didn't say the thought aloud but it echoed in the silence nonetheless.

“Good night, Marcie. I wish you'd said yes.”

T
he next morning, Marcie was nowhere near convinced she'd done the right thing in turning Zack down. Yet she couldn't go through what she had before—thinking they were building a life together and finding out that wasn't what he wanted.

Other people had long-distance marriages. And it worked for them. But she couldn't envision it.

Getting ready for church gave her time to put things in perspective. She was young, healthy, had a good business and many friends. She had the love of her heavenly Father and her own earthly father. And just maybe the love of a man she adored.

She headed out for church, still unsure, but trying to see what God held in store for her.

Gillian met her as they were walking to the classrooms and raved again about the food.

“You said you liked it yesterday,” Marcie reminded her, pleased her selections had delighted her client.

“I know, but in munching on some of the leftovers this morning, I realized again what a wonderful selection everything is. Each piece is distinctive, yet they all go together. And the cake's delicious.”

Marcie smiled. Sunshine Bakery's specialty was cakes, and all the cakes they offered were popular.

“You and Zack talk?” Gillian asked.

Marcie went on alert. What had Zack told Joe and Gillian?

“A little, why?”

“He seems really down today. Just wondering. I went over to fix breakfast before heading for church and he hardly said a word to any of us.”

“Did he say when he was leaving?” Marcie asked.

“Yes, on Friday. But he plans to be back no later than three or four weeks after that. He's putting his Paris flat on the market.”

“Umm.”

“What does that mean?” Gillian stopped before they entered the classroom. Others in the Bible study greeted them and slipped past to enter the room.

“Don't you think once he's back in the swing of things he'll be caught up in that lifestyle again?” Marcie said when they were alone in the hallway again. “Nope.”

“Really?” Marcie was startled Gillian didn't see it her way.

“Really. He says he's coming back. He's put a lot of effort into, er, ah, different things. I believe he's coming back.”

“What things?” Marcie asked.

“You know, the driving track. I believe he's serious about setting up something teenagers can do safely, to let off some steam. He's really caught up with Sean and concerned the boy has a strong male role model since his own father seems to have deserted the family.”

“I don't see Zack as a father figure,” Marcie said slowly.

“You've seen him with Jenny. He's a natural. I bet he wants a bunch.”

Marcie remembered him at the picnic, caught by his own offer of help, surrounded by little girls who had a marvelous time playing throw-the-stick. Then the hero worship Sean showed anytime Zack's name was mentioned. And she did know Zack was pursuing the driving course. Would it be something left behind or was he really serious about returning?

He had never lied to her.

The thought struck her suddenly.

 

Marcie sat in the back of the room and started listening to the leader. But her thoughts drifted. Zack had never lied. He'd skipped out on their wedding, but had called her to tell her, not left her to show up and find him gone. He'd been honest with her then. And now?

She'd thought she'd known him then. Now he was a mystery to her. After years apart, years doing things the other hadn't known about, they were like strangers—yet not. The common heritage of their childhood and teenage years bound them together. They'd grown apart during the last decade. Could they find the love that had once been theirs?

Marcie knew she loved Zack Kincaid. She always had. A binding, enduring love that would last all her life. Maybe tucked away these last years, but never extinguished. She couldn't deny the truth. She loved Zack.

 

She waited until Tuesday to call him. But she missed him. He'd gone to Portland on some errand Joe didn't know about.

Wednesday Marcie was too busy with a minor crisis in the kitchen to call until late afternoon, leaving a message
when he wasn't there. Later she had a message from him, but she'd missed his call. She called again. Again he called when she was away from her phone. At the rate they were going, they would never connect.

Thursday Marcie panicked. Time was running out. He was leaving in the morning. She wanted to talk to Zack. She needed to. She'd left messages, he'd left messages. She was about to glue her phone to her hand to be there when he called back. She kept missing him. She didn't want to be too late. She needed to talk to him. To see if they could possibly have a chance to work something out.

Still uncertain and a bit fearful, Marcie wanted to tell Zack she'd changed her mind. If his offer was still open, she would be happy to marry him.

She could step out in faith that what he said was true. He was coming back.

Now she hoped she wasn't too late.

When she called the shop a second time on Thursday, Joe answered.

“He's not here, Marcie. He's back at the house. He had something to wrap up before he leaves tomorrow. Want to call him there?”

“Sure. Just how much is he contributing to the partnership if he's never there?” she asked, frustrated to have missed him again.

“Ah, that partnership is on hold, actually,” Joe said.

That made sense, since he was leaving. “I'll try him at the house.” She hung up and thought for a moment. Phone calls weren't making it. She was going to go up there and talk to him face-to-face. Grabbing her purse, she called out to the kitchen staff as she left, telling them where she was going, not sure when she'd be back.

She wasn't going to dwell on Joe's comment about the partnership being on hold. That was between Zack and Joe.
She was concentrating on the relationship between her and Zack. And hoping there was still one there to dwell on.

Turning at the driveway, she slammed on her brakes when she saw the new fence surrounding three sides of the house. The back was still open to the bluff and the Atlantic, but the rest was encased in a brand-new picket fence. She saw Zack midway up one side, painting it white.

For the longest moment she sat where she'd stopped the car, trying to figure out what Zack was doing painting a fence. Why was there a fence to begin with? It had not been there when they'd had the tasting last week.

Getting out, she walked over. He glanced up and then returned to painting.

“Hi,” Marcie said, wiping her palms against her skirt.

“Hi.” Zack dipped the brush in the gallon of paint and applied it to a picket.

“Nice fence.”

He stopped a minute and looked down the length. “I think so.”

“You put it up?”

“Had it installed.”

She looked at Gillian's house, across an expanse of ground, clearly visible.

“I thought Joe and Jenny were moving in with Gillian after the wedding.”

“That's the plan.”

She looked at him, her heart swelling in love. “So, why the new fence?”

He looked at the brush, dipped it into the paint again.

“I wanted a house by the sea with a white picket fence,” he said slowly.

Marcie was stunned. It was just what they'd talked about when they'd been engaged. What she'd always wanted, a house by the sea with a white picket fence. She looked at
the Kincaid home, strong and sturdy. It had been in their family since Zack had been a boy.

“You planning on moving in?” she asked, her heart racing.

“Depends,” he said.

“On?”

He stood up and held the dripping brush away from their clothes. “Why are you here, Marcie?”

“I've been calling you all week—you got my messages.”

He nodded. “I was planning to tell you goodbye before I left, but didn't see an urgent need to talk before that.”

“Well, that's the thing. I do.” She wiped her palms against her skirt again. He wasn't making this easy.

“About?”

“Us.”

He looked at her and then at the brush. Stooping again, he applied more paint on another wooden picket.

“Past, present or future?” he asked after a moment.

“Future. And present, I guess,” she said.

Her cell sounded.

She ignored it. It would go to voice mail. This was too important.

“Present we're here,” he said.

“You're leaving in the morning, but will be back, right?”

He looked at her, his dark eyes narrowed slightly. “So I've said.”

“I believe you.”

“Since when?'

“Since I realized you've never lied once in your life. If you say you're coming back, I believe you,” she repeated.

“What else do you believe?” he asked, putting down the
brush and standing, stepping next to her, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes locked with hers.

Her phone sounded again. She frowned and glanced at the caller ID on her phone.

“It's the clinic. Oh, no, Dad.” She quickly answered the phone.

“Marcie? It's Faith Stewart at the clinic. I'm the new nurse here. Your father's being taken by ambulance to the hospital in Portland. He asked if I'd call you to let you know.”

“What happened? When?” Suddenly she felt Zack's strong hand on her shoulder.

“He was in an accident and his arm was broken in two places—more complex than the doctor wanted to deal with here. Your father said don't rush, get to the hospital safely. But he will need transportation home.”

“Thanks, I'll leave right now.”

“What happened?” Zack asked as soon as she hung up.

“My dad's being taken to the hospital. He was in an accident. I've got to go.”

“Hold on. I'll drive you.”

“You don't need to, he's going to Portland. The nurse said it was a broken arm, but more complicated than they wanted to deal with at the clinic. I can get there okay.”

“I know, but let me drive, Marcie,” Zack said calmly as he pounded the lid on the paint can and scooped up the brush. “I'll put these away and we'll go.”

She nodded, worried about her father. She'd planned to visit him that evening. Now this. What had happened? How had he broken his arm?

In less than five minutes, Zack had them both in his truck and was turning the key. “How about a prayer before we go?” he said, reaching out to clasp her hand.

“I've been praying since I heard the nurse.”

“Let's offer one together.” He bowed his head and prayed for a safe journey, wisdom for the doctors at the hospital and strengthened faith for both of them to trust God and know that whatever the outcome, it was His will.

Marcie blinked when she opened her eyes. “That was nice,” she said.

“Now let's get to Portland.”

The drive seemed endless. Zack used all his skill to push the truck to the limit—of its abilities and the posted speeds. He did not want to endanger his passenger by taking unnecessary chances, but as the traffic grew heavier close to Portland, he did what he could to get Marcie there as quickly as possible.

He dropped her off at the E.R. and went to park the truck. Walking back to the hospital a couple of minutes later, he offered another prayer.
Keep her spirits up, please, Lord. And show me what I can do to be there for her and her father. We all need Your strength at this time, Father. Please be with us now, let Marcie feel Your love and find peace.

Marcie was sitting along the far wall, looking tired, scared and small in the busy waiting room. He crossed over and took the chair next to her.

“Any word?” he asked, reaching out to take her hand in his. It was cold and small. He rubbed gently to warm her.

“He's in X-ray. Once he's back the nurse said I could join him. I can't imagine how he fell and broke an arm.”

Zack looked around and to his surprise saw Tate walking in. The sheriff went straight to the desk, then turned and spotted Zack and Marcie. He walked over.

“Sorry about your dad, Marcie. He'll be okay, right?”

“I guess. Do you know what happened?”

“It was a hit-and-run accident. He was crossing the street and a car came through too fast. I need to talk to your father to get the particulars. Some of the folks on the sidewalk told me what they saw. He wasn't hit straight on, but it knocked him to the curb and I heard he broke his arm in two places.”

“The nurse didn't tell me that,” Marcie exclaimed. “Can you find the driver?”

“Already working on it. Sean was heading toward your café and had the presence of mind to get the license number. As soon as we get the information, we'll find him. I wanted to check on your father and see if he can tell me any more.”

They waited together until one of the nurses on duty came to Tate. Verifying he was there to see Bill Winter, she said, “The patient can talk to you now. We gave him some pain meds but he's lucid. Might go to sleep in a short while, though.”

“I'm his daughter, can I see him?” Marcie asked.

The nurse nodded. “He's in cubicle three.” She smiled and left.

Once crowded in the small cubicle, Zack stood near the curtain, not needing to be right there with Bill, but nearby in case Marcie needed him.

“I probably can go home after they set the arm,” he said after Marcie had hugged him and exclaimed he should have called her right away. “I'll need a ride—don't want to take that ambulance again.”

“Might be tight, but the truck has a bench seat. We'll take you back,” Zack said.

Tate asked him questions about the accident, jotting notes and growing angrier by the moment. “Totally senseless. Thank the Lord you weren't injured any more than you were.”

“I must admit I didn't see him coming or I wouldn't have stepped off the sidewalk.”