Love Remains (32 page)

“Yeah, I thought about that.” Bobby pushed his plate back. He had eaten nearly as much as he could, and already more than he should.

“Did you ask her if she’s been tested? Has a doctor told her that this is a definite eventuality?” Mom asked.

“She said there’s some kind of genetic test for it that she got done a few years ago. The results showed she didn’t carry the gene that typically caused that type of cancer—and she had taken her sister’s medical records with her so they could compare the results.”

Mom didn’t say anything for several long moments. “Her fear is understandable. Unfounded, but understandable. Are we to understand from this story that you’re thinking about a possible future with this young woman?”

“I want to try it, yes. But there’s a complication.” He told them about the case.

“You can’t date her while you’re investigating something to do with the place where she works. But what about after that?” Dad reached for another egg roll.

“After that, if she is willing, I want to give it another shot.”

“Good. But, Bobby, you have to tell her about the investigation. Even if it turns out that it has nothing to do with her whatsoever, if she finds out from someone else that you investigated her at all, it could create problems.” Mom pulled the plate of egg rolls away from
his father and pushed it toward Bobby.

He took two of them. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her.” When the time was right. Like maybe when their first child graduated from high school. Or college.

“The way things looked on Saturday made me wonder if you and Bobby Patterson have patched things up.”

Zarah should’ve known Kiki had an ulterior motive when she’d called and suggested Zarah drop by for tea after Thursday night’s class. But she couldn’t deny the truth of her grandmother’s observation. “The more I’m around him, the more I’m coming to believe he didn’t mean to hurt me back then. I’m still not sure exactly what happened; all I know is that since he’s been back, I’ve had a strong feeling that we could work things out…as long as he doesn’t get freaked out by the whole cancer thing.”

Kiki groaned. “When are you going to believe what the doctor told you? You don’t carry the gene for the cancer. You’re more likely not to get it than you are to get it. It’s almost like you want to get cancer because that would show that you’re more like your mother than your father.”

Zarah stared at her grandmother, opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it again. Deep in the recesses of her soul, Zarah knew her grandmother was right. Ovarian cancer was the legacy her mother had passed to Phoebe—the only legacy she had had. Not inheriting the gene that caused it meant that, on a genetic level anyway, Zarah was more like her father than her mother. “You’re right. I need to let go of that fear—the fear that I’m anything like him. He is my father. And holding on to that fear from the way he treated me in the past is not going to help me heal our relationship in the present.”

Kiki turned to pull the whistling kettle off the stove, but not before Zarah caught her skeptical expression. “Do you want to work things out with Bobby?”

“Maybe…if I can be sure he’s not going to hurt me again.”

Kiki handed her a cup and saucer before sitting down with her own. “I wish I could take that away from you.”

Frowning, Zarah looked down at her teacup, then back up at her grandmother. “Take what away from me?”

Kiki released a little chuckle. “This certainty you have that every man you cross paths with is eventually going to hurt you.”

“You sound like my therapist. That was one of the things we worked on all those years—trying to get me to admit that I think every man is like my father. But I know they’re not—there’s Pops. I know Pops would never hurt me.” She startled when two large hands settled on her shoulders and squeezed them gently.

“And I’m glad you know that, little one.” Pops leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I could never hurt you. You’re one of my favorite people in the world. One of the brightest, smartest, most successful, most beautiful people in the world.” He ambled over to the stove to fix himself a cup of hot chocolate. “That young man would be lucky to get you.”

“You know we want nothing more than to make sure you’re happy and well provided for.” Kiki reached across the corner of the table and took Zarah’s hand in hers. “You know we would love to see you marry. But we don’t want to see you hurt any more than
you
want to, so guard your heart. Just don’t build such a high wall around it that no one can get in.”

“Don’t worry, Kiki. I’ve had my fill of both being hurt and being alone. I’m ready to put the past in the past and start building a new future.”

“And might part of that future be in Washington DC?” Pops dumped a handful of mini-marshmallows into his hot chocolate and joined them at the table.

Zarah sighed. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. It’s a wonderful opportunity for someone like me—no, make that for anyone. But I can’t help feeling that even though going on the interview is the
right thing to do, neither that job nor moving to Washington DC is what God wants me to do. Whether that’s true or whether that’s me trying to guard myself against disappointment, I’m not sure. All I know is that for me to move forward, to have a happy life, I have to give whatever opportunities come my way a try and not automatically assume nothing good can come from them.”

Pops grinned at her. “What you’re saying is that you’re trying to become more of an optimist like me instead of staying a pessimist like your grandmother.”

Zarah shrugged even as the corners of her mouth crept up. “I’m very proud not just to look like my grandmother but to
be
like her. So I thank you for the compliment. But yes, Pops, I am going to try to live more by your favorite motto, ‘Seize the Day,’ than by my own personal belief that everything’s going to turn out bad.”

With midterms to write and papers to grade at home, Zarah didn’t stay long at her grandparents’ house, even though she really wanted to. Her cell phone started ringing as she pulled into her own driveway. Rather than risk dropping it while juggling everything else she needed to carry inside, she turned the car off and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Zarah, it’s your father.”

Her heart hammered. She’d left him a message more than a week ago to see if it might be possible for them to get together while she was in DC. After so long, she hadn’t expected a return call. It wouldn’t have been the first time. “Dad? It’s good to hear from you.”

“I got your message that you’re going to be in town next week. Your stepmother and I can meet you for dinner next Friday night.” He gave her the name of a restaurant on King Street in Alexandria near where she would be staying. “We’ll be there at eight o’clock. The reservation will be in our name.”

Hot tears pressed the corners of Zarah’s eyes. “I look forward to seeing you there.”

After a brief, businesslike good-bye, her father hung up. Zarah
squeezed her eyes tightly shut and wiped the few tears that escaped to her cheeks.

“Thank You, God.” What more of a sign did she need than that to confirm God was pleased with her new attitude toward life? Which meant, as soon as she got back from DC, it was time to see if she could make things work with Bobby.

Chapter 23

Z
arah leaned her head against the window and let the white blanket of clouds below the plane fill her vision while her mind wandered. Actually, it didn’t wander as much as dwell on Bobby. She hadn’t seen or talked to him since the fiasco of a dinner Wednesday night after church. Even though she’d promised Kiki and Pops—and herself—that she was going to turn a new leaf and not live with the worry she might one day be diagnosed with a fatal disease, his whey-faced reaction to her explanation that ovarian cancer ran in her family hadn’t boded well.

A touch on her arm startled her. “Excuse me, miss. We’re landing—would you replace your tray table?”

“Sorry.” Zarah lifted the plastic tray and locked it into place on the back of the seat in front of her. She rolled up the copy of the
American Heritage
magazine she’d brought to read but hadn’t even opened and returned her gaze out the window. Gray clouds and rain obscured the familiar landmarks of the Virginia countryside that would have indicated their close proximity to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport.

South of the city lay Quantico, the training facility for the FBI—and where Bobby would be all week for a training seminar.

A week in which they were forced apart, in which communication with each other would be almost impossible would be good for both of them. They’d both have time to think, to pray, to figure out exactly what it was they each wanted.

As soon as the plane landed, Zarah called Kiki and Pops to let them know she’d arrived safely. Half an hour later, she pulled her suitcase off the luggage carousel and headed for the Metro station. She hopped the Blue Line south and got off two stops later at King Street. Thankfully, her hotel was less than a block from the Metro station—even still, she was pretty much drenched by the time she made it up the steps and into the front door.

Dennis’s frequent-guest account with the hotel got her upgraded to a junior suite—which she appreciated, since she’d be here for almost a week. She took the elevator to the seventh floor, found her room, and collapsed on the sofa in the sitting room. She’d thought about taking the trolley down to the Fish Market Restaurant on the other end of King Street for supper, but getting soaked after several hours of traveling put the kibosh on that idea—especially since it was still raining steadily out there.

As soon as she got her second wind, she took her suitcase into the bedroom and unpacked, hanging her suit on the hook inside the closet door. She’d need to touch it up with the iron before bed. Even though she was now convinced she shouldn’t accept the job if they offered it, showing up at the interview in a rumpled suit still wouldn’t be a good idea.

After a long, hot shower, she dressed in comfy knit pants and a JRU sweatshirt and called room service. Twenty minutes later, her crab-cake burger with sides of fries and apple coleslaw arrived. The server set the meal out on the dining table in the outer room of the suite, and she tipped him well before retrieving a soda from the minibar.

She didn’t take extravagant trips on her vacations. She might as well treat herself when she could.

Though she opened her laptop and got online so she could
download her e-mails and pull up the work she needed to get done this week, Zarah couldn’t concentrate on it. Instead, as soon as she finished her sandwich, she picked up her cell phone and checked the time. Ten o’clock here, which meant nine o’clock in Nashville. She pressed and held the three. C
ALLING
F
LANNERY
M
C
N
EILL
scrolled across the small screen of her phone. Carrying the plate of fries with her, she crossed to the sofa and snuggled up in the corner of it.

“Hey, girl. I was starting to get worried about you.” Flannery’s voice sounded anything but worried.

“I know. I meant to call earlier. But it was raining when I got here, so taking a shower—and then getting something to eat—took precedence.” Zarah related everything that had happened on the trip, from the young woman who’d never flown before whom she assisted at the Nashville airport to the very cute Scottish guy she’d helped find the Metro station at Reagan National.

“No, Flan, he was headed into DC instead of into Alexandria.”

“You still could have tried to get his number or e-mail address or something—if not for you, for me.”

“Believe me, this guy was most definitely not your type.”

“That scruffy, huh?” Flannery made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat.

“Yeah—long hair, ripped jeans that looked like they could have used a good wash…typical vagabond hipster.”

Flannery sighed. “Ah well. Keep your eye out for me, though. You have a picture of me on your phone to show, right?”

Zarah nearly choked on a french fry from laughing. “I’m not here to shop for a boyfriend for you.”