Wishing on Willows: A Novel (38 page)

“I think Mayor Ford is doing what he thinks he needs to do.”

“And Dad?”

“I think your father has a good heart. I think his son does too.” Mom reached for his hand on the console. “Nobody will discredit you for following it.”

Ian’s grip tightened around the steering wheel. Perhaps he could follow it, if he knew what direction it was leading. Robin’s silence was messing with his head, as was that kiss. Part of him wanted to erase it. The other part wanted to grab her by her shoulders and kiss her again. He spent half his time trying to figure out how to convince her to give them a chance, the other half trying to convince himself that she was right. It was impossible.

“I’d love to meet her.”

He looked at his mother. “Who?”

“This woman who has you so distracted. Robin. She must be special.”

A vision sprang to life in his mind—Mom and Robin, sitting out on his parents’ deck with their feet up, sipping iced tea. The two would get along, he knew it. He merged onto I-55 and welcomed the wind. Robin was everywhere. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d left her a note and his phone number.

Her silence spoke volumes.

Robin carried the box of muffins with both arms while Caleb opened the door to One Life. Willow Tree might be out of commission for the time being, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to bring Piper Greeley and all the other kids their after-school snack.

As soon as they stepped inside, Kyle was there. As if he’d been watching them make their way from the street. “Here, let me get that,” he said, taking the box. His eyes were bright, an odd combination of excited and nervous.

No doubt the threat of condemnation was making him just as antsy
and riddled with adrenaline as it was her. He handed the box off to the woman who coordinated the after-school program, then clapped his hands and smiled a smile that seemed unnaturally large. “Do you mind if we talk in my office?”

“Um … sure.” They didn’t have very much time. As hard as it was to believe, Caleb’s birthday was tomorrow. Which meant she wanted to get back home so she could start on his cake. She took Caleb’s hand and followed him down the cramped hallway, into a dimly lit, doorless office—one that couldn’t be much bigger than a supply closet.

“I have some really good news,” he said, walking behind his desk.

“I’m always up for hearing good news.”

“It’s an answer to prayer.” Kyle rubbed his jaw, then tapped the desktop with his knuckle. “I’m not sure I’ve wrapped my mind around it yet.”

Robin shifted her weight. “Well, are you going to tell me or keep me in suspense?”

“We found another space. On the north end of town.”

She blinked several times, staring at tall Kyle in this cramped space, positive she heard wrong. “But I thought that was too expensive. I thought you didn’t want to cut any programming.”

“That’s the good news. Thanks to an elder at Grace Assembly, we won’t have to.”

Caleb wrapped his arm around Robin’s leg and leaned against her hip. “Can we go now, Mommy?”

“Just a second, sweetheart.” She swallowed the dryness in her throat. “I don’t understand.”

“One of the elders thinks One Life is an incredibly important ministry. He hates seeing the town torn apart over it and now that your café is … well, so damaged … he and his wife have offered to cover the extra cost of renting the new facility each month.”

Robin gaped.

“Isn’t that great? What an answer to prayer, right?”

She tried to nod or say yes, but nothing came. And by the time she finally forced something out, it wasn’t what she’d intended. “But what about
the location? How will the kids get all the way to the north side of town after school?”

“You’re right. The location is a bit inconvenient, but the facility is so much more accommodating. I’m sure I can apply for some sort of grant that would cover the cost of bussing the children over.”

“Wow. I’m not sure what to say.”

“I know. It’s a lot to process.” Kyle scratched the back of his neck. “I wanted to thank you, Robin. For everything you’ve done. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated your support.”

Robin didn’t respond. She couldn’t find her voice.

“Is it at the bottom?” Caleb asked.

“I think so.”

“Aren’t you gonna look for it?”

“I already did.”

“Do you think I’ll get another puppy for my birthday?”

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

Caleb sat at the edge of the pond and dipped his toes into the water. His socks were tucked inside his shoes and his shoes sat next to the trunk of the willow tree. The sun threw sparkles across the water’s surface. Somewhere beneath all that glitter was Robin’s wedding ring. Or maybe it had already become fish food. Maybe some lucky fisherman would discover a diamond on his plate after frying up his latest catch. A light breeze rustled through the drooping willows. Caleb jabbered about sea monsters and Robin rested her head against the bark, trying to process the bomb Kyle had just dropped on her.

She was thrilled that God had provided for One Life, but what did that mean for her café? A parade of memories marched through her mind—starting with that very first day, when she stood on the lawn of Sunshine Daisies, a run-down flower shop for sale, listening as Bethany planted a seed of life in Robin’s weary soul.

Heat welled inside her chest, pulsing in tune with her heart. She
wrapped her arms around her legs and tapped her head against her knee caps. When it came to fighting or fleeing, she had always been the type to stand and fight. But now that One Life no longer depended on her, could she justify dragging her town through the battle?

Lord, what am I supposed to do now?

No more credit line. All kinds of fire damage and the threat of condemnation. Fingers of abandonment gripped her spirit, leaving her cold and numb. Robin didn’t know if God wanted her to put on her boxing gloves or throw them in the ring. Bad news heaped on top of bad news, dragging her back to a time when she’d waited for test results from the doctors. Back to a time when she’d sat in the corner of Micah’s hospital room, clinging to hope, praying for one of the tests to come back with a promise of brain activity. But every test came back worse, confirming what she didn’t want to hear. Micah was gone. His brain had no activity. And as much as she’d wanted to fight for him, she couldn’t. There had been nothing to fight for. Was history repeating itself?

Are You asking me to give up, God? After everything, is this Your answer?

Caleb plopped down in the grass beside her. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and drew him close, as if her little boy possessed the answers she needed. Taking a deep breath, she looked through the willows, out to the sparkling pond, and as the wind rustled the leaves, an answer stirred in her soul.

Be still, and I will fight for you
.

Only instead of comfort, the words brought fear and doubt. Because as much as she wanted to believe them, the Lord did not fight for Micah when she’d begged Him to more than four years ago. She knew firsthand that her definition of deliverance did not always match up with God’s. A small part of her thought maybe she was better off fighting for herself. But the words whispered over and over again.

Be still, and I will fight for you
.

Robin closed her eyes, trying to escape that same sense of helplessness she felt all those years ago, when the doctors told her Micah was as good as dead.

The current of the Mississippi slapped against the short wharf, gently rocking Amanda as she stared into the muddy depths of the river and waited for the fireworks that would cap off another Fourth of July. Families sat in clumps along the bike path, lounging on chairs and blankets. Little kids raced around with sparklers and the air snapped and squealed with firecrackers and bottle rockets—a prelude to the big show.

But Amanda couldn’t get into the celebratory spirit. Not with a box filled with cards and pictures and mementos sitting on her knees and Jason’s letter clutched in her hand. A letter that had led to some e-mails that led to a phone call—an hour-long conversation that went nowhere. Enough was enough. She tore it into tiny shreds and let them float away. They bobbed along the water’s surface and disappeared.

Jason was in Africa and she was here. Neither of them were getting on a plane anytime soon. Which made her hypocritical. How many times had she urged Robin to move on? How many times had she felt annoyed with her sister-in-law’s inability to let go of the past and grab onto the future? When all this time, she was engaged in the same battle.

She needed to get over it already. Build a bridge. Make lemonade. All that cheesy bumper-sticker stuff. She needed to accept that the dreams she dreamed and the future she hoped for had been her plans, not God’s. And although it hurt, although she didn’t understand the whys, perhaps His plans were bigger than her dreams. Amanda held her phone out in front of her, her thumb hovering over the button that would delete Jason’s phone number. She jabbed it, set the phone beside her fishing pole, and took the box with both hands.

“You’re not going to litter that too, are you?”

Amanda twisted around. A man stood on the bike path behind her, his elbows propped on the black railing. Dark shaggy hair, swarthy enough to be Italian or Greek, with a crooked nose, a V-necked white tee, and cargo shorts.

“Not sure it’d be good for the fish,” he said.

“Have you been watching me?”

“A little.”

“That’s not creepy or anything.”

He walked down the wharf and sat beside her. His eyes were almost black—like coffee without any creamer.

She leaned away. “And you would be …?”

“Joel St. Claire. I’m in town visiting my brother. Technically, this is his dock and I was hoping to watch the fireworks here.”

“St. Claire, huh? You wouldn’t, by any chance, be related to a girl named Blaire, would you?”

“She’s my sister-in-law.”

Poor guy. “Want to do me a favor, Joel?”

“Possibly.”

She handed him the box. “Find a garbage can and toss this for me?”

“Is there something wrong with your legs?”

“It’s better if you do it.” She didn’t want to know where it was. If she did, she’d probably go back and fish it out again. She needed a clean break. He started to open the lid, but she clamped her hand over the top. “You can’t look in it.”

“If I’m going to do your dirty work, don’t you think I at least deserve to see what I’m disposing?”

She kept her hand in place and shook her head.

“How do I know it’s not something illegal? Like drugs or body parts?”

“Do I look like a druggie or a serial killer?”

“The good ones never do.”

She picked up her fishing pole. “Except for some not-so-flattering pictures,
there is nothing incriminating in that box. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Stick a needle in your eye?”

“If that is what it will take.”

Joel chuckled as a barge made its way down the river. The wharf rocked harder in its wake. “Okay, fine, I’ll do your dirty work. On one condition.”

She baited the hook. “I might be able to handle one condition.”

“Once I ditch whatever this is, you let me join you for the fireworks.”

Amanda sized Joel up. Outside of his relation to Blaire St. Claire, she couldn’t find anything wrong. “You have yourself a deal, Joel.”

He nodded at the pole. “Don’t you think the fireworks will scare the fish away?”

“I’m only looking to catch the brave ones.”

“I’ll be back then.” He stood and held the box in the crook of his arm. “I’m glad I ran into you …?”

“Amanda.”

Joel smiled. “I hope you catch something.”

She cast the line out into the water. “Me too.”