Making Waves (38 page)

The truth will set you free
.

The words struck her so hard her breath caught. The truth. Trip said she was lying to herself. Was he right? How would she ever be able to make a vow to God, promising to love, honor, and obey this man? If she did, it would be a lie.

She couldn’t do it. Not anymore. She couldn’t make promises to Roger that she had no intention of keeping. It was as simple as that. And she could never promise God she’d love this horrible man when her heart belonged to another.

If I tell the truth, then I’ll be free
.

Yanking off the engagement ring before her courage could wane, she held it out in the center of her open palm.

“What are you doing?” Roger glowered. “Don’t be foolish.”

“I can’t marry you. I don’t love you.”

“I never thought you did, but I want you anyway.”

“Take the ring, Roger.”

“You can’t be serious. Remember the situation? Your family will lose everything.”

“God will help me find a way to support my family without living a lie with you.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“The truth? I do love Trip Andrews, but it’s you who drove me away.” She rubbed her aching wrist. “At first I thought you were boring, but now I know you’re also cruel. Maybe your parents never told you no, Roger, but I most certainly can. I’ll have my father return the telescope you gave me by the end of the week.”

She started to leave and he grabbed her elbow. “You’ll regret this.”

“No, Roger, I don’t think I will.”

25

Workers paraded around the decorated boats lining the piers, adding finishing touches for tomorrow’s festivities. Marguerite searched for Trip among the many volunteers but couldn’t find him. Then she spotted Lilly, paintbrush in hand, adding a flourish of gold to the lettering on John Nelson’s
Windy Sue
.

Marguerite approached the boat, and John assisted her in boarding his vessel. He showed her around as he touted the sailboat’s specifications and explained how he’d elaborated on the plans she’d given him.

“It’s turned out beautifully, Mr. Nelson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go speak to Lilly.” She pointed to her maid. “I believe I’ll be requiring her assistance later.”

“Just don’t take her until she puts the final letters on my boat. I can’t have it saying
USS Fear
instead of
Fearless
.”

“I see your point.” She smiled. “I’ll make sure she has the time to finish it.”

Even though she wanted to rush to her friend and share her news, Marguerite practiced restraint and remained a few feet back, watching as Lilly stuck the tip of her tongue out while she painted the letter
l
with a flourish. Her face was only inches from the papier-mâché turret.

Lilly stepped back. “Perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Lilly turned. “When did you get here, Miss Marguerite?”

“A minute ago. Have you seen Trip?”

The maid-turned-artist set her paintbrush in a water-filled canning jar. “He’s made himself scarce today. What’s got you looking all glowy like a lightning bug in June?”

Marguerite raised her bare hand and wiggled the fingers.

“You did it! You broke off the engagement!”

Lifting her finger to her lips, Marguerite hushed her friend. “I want to tell Trip myself.”

“What did your parents say?”

Marguerite’s stomach cinched as if someone had lassoed her and pulled the rope taut. How had she forgotten about telling them? The exhilaration of finally being free of that officious man had made her forget how much her decision was going to hurt them all. What would Lilly do if they had to let their servants go?

“I . . . haven’t told them. Lilly, what if I’ve made a terrible mistake?”

“The only mistake you made was putting up with him as long as you did.” Lilly wiped her hands on a rag. “God’s going to take care of all of us. Why don’t you sit down here and tell me what happened?”

“Would you mind terribly if we talked later? I suppose I should explain things to my parents before Roger shows up and tells them his version.”

“True.” A broad smile bloomed on Lilly’s face. “Just remember, you’ll still be able to look forward to telling Mr. Trip your news.”

“I only hope I’m not too late.”

Like a sacrificial lamb, Marguerite stood before her parents.

Somehow her father appeared to know what she’d done the moment she stepped into the center of their camp, and disappointment flooded his face. Still, he didn’t say a word.

“I need to speak with you both.” Her voice sounded foreign even to her own ears.

Her mother set her teacup on its saucer. “Your timing couldn’t be better. Your father and I were just going over the guest list for the engagement party next week.”

“Mother, there won’t be a party.”

“Nonsense, dear. It’s all arranged.” She tapped the list. “We weren’t certain about inviting the Sheratons because you know how Edith can gab, but your father has persuaded me to be solicitous. Edith would be greatly wounded if she was omitted, and Mr. Sheraton is considering investing in the new business.”

Her father placed his hand on his wife’s arm. “Let Marguerite speak.”

Marguerite’s mouth felt as if she’d swallowed a handful of milkweed down. She licked her parched lips. “Mother, there won’t be an engagement party because I’m no longer engaged.”

Her mother’s face paled to the color of the moon. “What have you done?”

“I told Roger I couldn’t marry him.”

“Oh, Marguerite, perhaps if you hurry and go find him, I’m sure he’ll still forgive you. After all, brides-to-be often get cold feet.”

“No, Mother. He knows it was no such thing.” She stared at her father, waiting for his reaction, wishing he’d say something, anything. Even suffering his wrath would be better than enduring his silence.

Her mother turned to her husband. “Edward, you go to him. He’ll listen to you. You can explain things. You can make him understand that Marguerite is impulsive at times.”

Marguerite held her father’s gaze. Did she see a flicker of fear? Not her father.

The realization shook her. Perhaps the situation was worse than she’d imagined. Had his physical safety been threatened as well as the family’s finances?

A fraction of a second later, whatever she’d seen on his face passed like a fleeting shadow. Her father drew in a long, ragged breath and released it slowly. “I don’t think I need to explain anything to him.” He met her gaze. “Do I, Maggie?”

His familiar term of endearment poured like a balm over her fearful heart, and she shook her head.

“Marguerite, how could you? Do you realize what you’ve done?” Tears wetted her mother’s cheeks, and she turned to her husband, pleading for him to do something.

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I just couldn’t promise to love him.”

“But you could send us all to the poorhouse,” her mother spat. “You selfish little – ”

Her father struck the table with a clenched fist. “Camille, that’s enough.”

“She’s thinking only of herself, Edward.”

“Is she?” He drew his hand down the length of his peppered beard. “I think it’s we who’ve been thinking only of ourselves. I’ve always known Roger Gordon wasn’t the man for her, and I believe you only hoped he would be.”

Her mother sucked in a trembling lip.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I’ll get a job. I’ll do anything. Just don’t make me marry him. It’s not just that he’s boring, he’s . . .” Marguerite rubbed her wrist.

Her father looked at the injured spot. “Why are you doing that? Did he hurt you?”

“Daddy, it’s nothing, really.”

Her mother captured her hand. “You’re hurt? Let me see it.” Her cool fingers brushed the slightly swollen, reddened flesh, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. “He did this?”

Marguerite nodded.

“Was it the first time he’s manhandled you?” her father demanded.

“He didn’t do anything serious.”

“I had no idea.” Her mother pressed a hand to her dampened cheek. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Camille.” Her father laid a hand on his wife’s arm.

Marguerite pulled her hand away, and her mother faced her husband, pain etching her delicate features. “What have we done?”

“We gave our daughter to a monster.” Chest heaving, he pulled his wife’s head against his chest. “This is my fault.”

Showered in fresh guilt, Marguerite slid into the empty chair at the table. She clenched her hands in front of her, praying she could make her parents understand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanted to fix it all, but I just can’t do it.”

“Marguerite, look at me.” Her father stroked her hair until she turned to him. His pain-filled voice broke. “I did this to you and to this family. I created the problem. I should never have told you to marry him. I should have forbid it. I don’t know who I am anymore, but I know one thing.” He squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone has failed, it’s me. I know you must hate me, but someday I hope you can forgive me.”

She looked into his care-worn eyes brimming with tears. “Daddy, I could never hate you.”

Silence hung in the air until her mother broke it. “And I’m sorry too. I’ve just been so afraid. I didn’t want you – or any of us – to have to be without.”

“I know, Mother.”

The corners of her father’s mouth lifted slightly as he brushed a tear from Marguerite’s cheek. “Now it’s time for you to dry your tears. I do believe you have a certain gentleman who deserves to know about this turn of events.”

“But don’t we need to figure out what to do now?” Marguerite’s eyes darted between them. “If I don’t marry Roger, then – ”

“No.” Her mother shook her head, looking to her husband for confirmation.

“No,” her father echoed. He took his wife’s delicate hand and pressed it to his lips. “Your mother and I have much to discuss, but you don’t. This is our fight. We were wrong to let it become yours.”

Persuading Mark to join her in searching for Trip after supper wasn’t difficult. Even though Mark didn’t enjoy sailing, the starry-eyed look in his eyes told her he idolized Trip Andrews. And the promise of ice cream along the way didn’t hurt either.

She could have gone alone. After all, tomorrow was the big day, and she had numerous responsibilities she shared with Trip. She doubted even busybody Ruth Ellen Hutton would be surprised to see her out and about unchaperoned this evening. However, Mark’s attendance would eliminate any questions, and the truth was, she knew her parents didn’t need her little brother underfoot during their important discussion.

Her heart grabbed. She knew she’d done the right thing, but seeing the pain in her parents’ eyes still haunted her. She prayed for peace, and her father’s words came to mind.
This is our fight. We were wrong to let it become yours
. Was God trying to help her understand she was now truly free? That the burden of her family’s well-being belonged with her parents?

Mark picked up a stick and bashed it against the bushes as they walked. “Where do you think Trip is now? How many more places do we have to look?”

They’d already checked the boat shop, the
Endeavor
, and the restaurant inside the pavilion. Perhaps there was another tent meeting on the other side of the lake, or maybe he’d gone for a late swim. She scanned the crowded Grand Plaza for any sign of him or one of his crewmates.

“Hey, do I get a prize?” Mark pointed to a park bench near the ice cream parlor. “I found him.”

Marguerite froze. Trip wasn’t alone. Laura Thompson sat next to him on the narrow bench. How could he be socializing with her, of all people? That girl had tormented her practically every day of grade school. She was the one who’d locked her in the icehouse, and he knew it.

Laura giggled and laid her hand on Trip’s arm.

“That little imp!”

Mark grabbed her sleeve. “You aren’t going over there. What if he’s courting her?”

Trip shifted farther away and frowned. If he was courting Laura, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

Marguerite took a step forward and stopped. “Wait a minute. What am I doing?”

“What?”

Fresh fear mushroomed inside her. “Maybe you’re right, and he is courting her.”