Pearl of Great Price (25 page)

“I told you, I’m not going back there.”

“Don’t argue with your grandpa, Julie Pearl.” He kept right on nudging me closer to the nightstand where the beige telephone sat, and I kept right on digging in my heels.

Then the confounded thing rang and about planted me on the ceiling. Out of sheer habit, and before I could second-guess who might be calling, I whirled around and grabbed up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Julie? It’s Renata.” Her singsong tone carried the merest hint of uncertainty. “I’m downstairs in the lobby whenever you’re ready.”

I stared at my bare toes sticking out at the ends of the Dr. Scholl’s sandals Grandpa had brought. He was right about one thing—now that this can of spaghetti had been opened, I needed to ride the horse all the way to the finish line. Or something like that.

Looking slant-eyed at Grandpa, I had a flash of inspiration. “Hey, Renata,” I said, hooking a thumb in my jeans pocket and cocking my hip, “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

~~~

“Aw, Julie Pearl, what have you gone and done?” Grandpa had to shout over the wind whipping through the open windows of the rattling old Econoline van.

I laughed out loud as we chugged along Interstate 30 toward the cutoff to Caddo Pines. “I think it’s a perfect idea, Grandpa. Come on, admit it, you’ll enjoy this as much as I will.”

“
Enjoy
ain’t exactly the word I’d use,” he muttered, then shook his fist at an eighteen-wheeler roaring by us in the left lane. I surmised the GigantaMart logo on the side only added fuel to the fire in Grandpa’s belly.

I reclined the creaky passenger seat a little farther. “Anyway, I’ll believe it when I see it. How much you want to bet she’s already chickened out? Two dollars and a bottle of root beer says Renata Channing doesn’t have the gumption to spend two hours—let alone two weeks—living and working with us at the Swap & Shop.”

Which was exactly what I’d proposed to her. The rationale being, of course, that I’d just spent a week and a half with her in Ritzville, so it was only fair for her, as the devoted sister she claimed to be, to experience life on my terms. She’d hemmed and hawed for a good ten minutes—or at least it seemed that long—while I did some serious arm-twisting. Grandpa, hearing only my side of the conversation, could only stare at me in horror.

When she finally realized I wasn’t kidding, Renata gave in. “All right,
all right.
Give me time to take care of a few arrangements and pack a suitcase. I’ll be there later this afternoon.”

“Oh, and one more thing, Renata. Why don’t you drive over in my VW? We don’t have covered parking at the Swap & Shop, and I sure would hate for anything to happen to that fancy Mercedes of yours.”

Although her Mercedes sure had a lot smoother ride than this old van. Shifting against the sticky vinyl seat, I gathered my windblown hair and tucked it down the back of my shirt to keep it from getting more tangled than it already was.

Grandpa angled me another of his disbelieving stares. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, young lady. The woman’s liable to be more work than she’s worth, you know. Bet she’s never lifted a broom and dustpan in her life.”

I had to remind him what Micah had told me, that Renata used to sweep, mop, and a whole lot more at Pearls Along the Lake. Had to be like riding a bike . . . didn’t it?

Ten miles outside Caddo Pines, Grandpa’s cell phone rang. Since he was driving, he passed it to me. It was Sandy. “I was right,” she said when I answered. “Micah’s slaving away on paperwork. I just left the La Quinta.”

Casting Grandpa a sidelong glance, I shifted closer to the passenger door and lowered my voice. “Did you tell him what happened after y’all left the party?”

“Yeah, but I broke it to him real gently. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night.”

“What did he say?”

She didn’t answer right away. Finally she murmured, “Nothing. He just waved me out the door and told me to leave him alone.”

My head had started throbbing again. I squeezed my eyes shut, but all I could see was Renata falling into Micah’s arms yesterday. Why hadn’t I picked up right away on her feelings for him—or his for her, considering their history? Why couldn’t I accept that in Micah’s mind I’d always and ever be “Rennie’s baby sister,” the kid they’d nearly drowned?

It was too much for my tired brain to ponder. We were rumbling along the back highway now, winding through small towns and pine forests. In less than fifteen minutes we’d be in Caddo Pines.

I could hardly wait.

~~~

“Sneezy! Brynna!” I knelt by the kitchen table as my two favorite animals in the universe about bowled me over with their furry welcome. Purring like a motorboat, Sneezy rubbed against my thighs first one way and then the other, while Brynna lavished wet doggy kisses on my face. I wove my fingers through her soft, curly coat and sniffed back tears.

“Those two are mighty glad you’re back,” Grandpa said, his voice trembling.

“And I’m mighty glad to be here.” Clambering to my feet, I kicked off my Dr. Scholl’s and padded barefoot into the living room, where the puppies whimpered in their basket. I picked up each one in turn, snuggling it against my cheek. “Oh, Grandpa, they’ve grown so much.”

A big ol’ boa constrictor tightened itself around my heart. It wouldn’t be long until the puppies grew big enough to go to new homes. Good thing I came back when I did, because no way these pups were going anywhere without my express approval.

Grandpa shuffled to the kitchen. “Best get some lunch, Julie Pearl. We open in twenty minutes.”

By five after twelve, I was counting money into the cash drawer while Grandpa finished shaking out the welcome mat outside the front door. All my dear friends—Katy Harcourt, Maddie Barton, Hazel Diffenbacher, and so many others—had stopped by to greet me as they arrived to open their booths. I’m sure they’d all heard from Grandpa about why I’d been away, but nobody said a word, just treated me as if I’d been off on vacation or something.

And I was glad. I didn’t want to be fussed over, didn’t want to be different. I ached to be plain old Julie Pearl Stiles again.

Promptly (for him) at 12:08, Clifton arrived for work. Wearing a black
Lord of the Rings
T-shirt with Gandalf on the front, he didn’t notice me at first. He headed straight to the snack bar, where Grandpa was filling the slow cooker with nacho cheese. “Sorry, got caught in the lunch rush at the DQ,” Clifton told Grandpa. “I can take over now.”

I had to smile. So Clifton had gone from sacking groceries at Friendly’s to dishing out nachos at the Swap & Shop.

“I got it covered for now, son,” Grandpa told him with a wink. “You might want to say howdy to the cashier we got working today.”

Clifton swiveled his head in my direction. I wiggled my fingers in a shy wave.

“Julie Pearl!” He leapt over the two-foot-high wrought-iron railing surrounding the snack bar, skidded around the end of the checkout counter, and collided with me in a monster bear hug.

“Clifton, I—can’t—breathe!” Laughing, I squirmed out of his embrace. “I’m happy to see you, too, you dork!” I took his guileless face in my hands and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Turning fourteen shades of scarlet, Clifton jerked away. He glowered and studied me from one end to the other like I was a used car. Any minute he’d be kicking my tires. “Well, at least you didn’t come back looking all citified. I hope you didn’t let nearly two weeks of living high on the hog go to your head.”

Leave it to Clifton to say what I’m sure everyone else had been thinking. “I’m the same person I was before, Clifton. I promise.”

Even so, I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to convince myself and everyone else that I really was the same Julie Pearl Stiles they all knew and (mostly) loved. And all the while I kept one eye on the front door and wondered when—or if—Renata Channing would show up and once again turn my peaceful little world upside down.

C
HAPTER 29

February, 9 years earlier

Little Rock, Arkansas

Perusing the society pages of the morning paper, Renata barely glanced up when her husband entered the breakfast room. “Weren’t you supposed to be on your way to the airport by now?”

“O’Hare’s iced in. The flight’s been delayed until early afternoon.” Larry Channing slid into the chair across from Renata and signaled Walter to pour coffee.

Renata pasted on a sugary smile, but her tone was venomous. “I’m sure that pleases Nadine to no end. You two will have the whole morning for extended good-byes.” Ignoring Larry’s stony glare, she laid the newspaper aside and stirred skim milk into her artificially sweetened coffee. “Oh, and by the way, don’t expect Nadine to be here when you get back.”

Larry’s cup clattered against the saucer, coffee spilling over the rim. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m letting her go. I’ve already begun interviewing replacements.”

“You have some nerve.” Larry grew silent, his gaze following Walter as the white-coated butler carried a tray of empty dishes to the kitchen. When the door whisked closed, Larry continued with a sneer. “After your rendezvous with your old flame Hobart, you don’t have any business meddling in
my
affairs.”

At least he had the decency to look chagrined at his own choice of words. Renata pressed both hands on the table. “What will it take to convince you?
Nothing
happened between us.” Not that she hadn’t tried.

“I’m supposed to believe that? After finding the two of you locked in each other’s arms on the living room sofa?”

Renata seethed. Served him right for coming home unexpectedly at four in the morning. Her gaze drilled holes into his back as he strode to the buffet and heaped a plate with sausage links and French toast casserole, to which he added a huge scoop of butter and a generous dousing of maple syrup. “You know your doctor doesn’t want you eating like that. If you don’t be careful, you’re going to have a stroke.”

Larry gave a cruel laugh. “I should think you’d be thrilled—but only if I didn’t survive, because wouldn’t it be too awful if you ended up shackled in marriage to a drooling invalid.”

“Not to worry.” Renata shifted sideways and hooked her arm over the back of the chair. “Your stock portfolio will buy a lot of years of private nursing.”

“Humph. A big, strong, good-looking
male
nurse, if you had your way.” Larry took his seat across from her and shoveled in a mouthful of the eggy casserole.

Revulsion filled her as she watched melted butter ooze from the corners of his lips. “It would serve you right, you pompous control freak.”

“Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black.” He shook his head in disgust as he sawed a juicy sausage link into bite-sized pieces. “Honestly, Renata, I worry about you,” he said with a sneer. “Have you taken your pills this morning?”

She skewered him with a glare. “Don’t you talk to me about my
pills
. All the pills in the world won’t change the fact that I’m married to an egotistical bully.”

Larry snorted. “Since you insist on resorting to name calling, here’s one for
you
to try on: narcissistic, psychopathic b—”

Renata silenced him with a resounding slap to the table. “Just shut up and eat your breakfast. The sooner you finish, the sooner you’ll leave me alone.”

“Good idea. That’s the first sane remark you’ve made all morning.”

Fuming, Renata shifted and wished she had the fortitude to get up and walk out. But this was her house, too. She’d earned the right to sit at this table, to reign supreme over Channing Manor.

Dear God, it didn’t use to be this way between them! Once upon a time they’d actually loved each other. At least she thought it was love. She couldn’t forget the night she first met the strikingly handsome Lawrence Eugene Channing, newly appointed vice-president of GigantaMart, Inc., and first in line to inherit the Channing fortune. If not for her best friend from college, Janet Slaughter, inviting Renata to share hostess duties at a charity dinner-dance hosted by her parents, Larry would never have given Renata a second look. But of course he had no way of knowing when he asked her to dance that she wore a borrowed dress, borrowed shoes, borrowed jewels—that everything about her was counterfeit. She’d never even allowed him to call for her at her father’s house, that dreary little two-bedroom bungalow with the pale green vinyl siding and cracked sidewalk. She always arranged to be in town visiting at Janet’s so that he could pick her up there.

Then things started getting serious between them and he pressed to meet her family. Ultimately she had to confess the truth, even if it meant he’d never want to be seen with her again. “I’m poor, Larry. I’m a nobody,” she’d told him with tears in her eyes. “My dad sells insurance, and my mother—she—” Her throat closed, her heart twisted. How would she ever get the words out?

But Larry had been patient and understanding, at least in those days. As they sat shoulder to shoulder in the bucket seats of his tiny German sports car, he’d stroked her hand until she could continue.

“My mother . . .” She swallowed, drew a bolstering breath. “My mother was mentally ill. She committed suicide. Oh, Larry”—sobs wracked her body—“I’m scared, so scared I’m going to go crazy someday too!”

She didn’t tell him about the disconcerting symptoms she’d already begun to experience—the jumping thoughts and moments of reckless abandon, the freakish episodes when she could go seventy-two hours or more without sleeping. She didn’t mention the crashes that came afterward, when she couldn’t drag herself out of bed for days. At least the little yellow tranquilizers the doctor gave her for “nerves” helped keep the monsters at bay.

But Larry didn’t act the least bit concerned about her family background, promising he’d make Renata the most admired woman in Little Rock society. They married less than a year later, and Larry’s parents immediately began pressing them for a grandchild and heir. Otherwise, the family fortune would go to Larry’s ne’er-do-well younger brother, whose embarrassingly fertile wife popped out babies like she was trying to populate her own country.