Pearl of Great Price (34 page)

I shook my head as he rang up a sale. “And you were so lousy at high school math.”

“Hey now, Julie Pearl, not in front of the customers.” He winked at the rosy-cheeked, touristy-looking lady across the counter and handed her a plastic bag containing her purchases. “She’s teasing, ma’am. I was a star student, I assure you. Check your receipt if you have any doubts.”

“I trust you completely, young man.” The woman laughed and waggled a finger at me. “You’d better hang onto this one, honey. He’s a keeper.”

I could only roll my eyes and grin. “Oh, he is at that.”

The woman left with a jaunty spring in her step. I elbowed Clifton in the ribs. “Charmed another one, I see.”

“You go telling Sandy how I’m flirting with the customers and I’ll see to it she asks someone else to be her maid of honor.”

I scooted farther onto the rattan barstool seat. “Any closer to setting a wedding date?”

A crimson flush crept up Clifton’s neck. “Hoo-eee, this whole idea makes me nervous as a cricket at a toad convention. But Sandy has her heart set on a Christmas wedding, so I s’pose I’ll have to get used to the idea.”

“Christmas! That’s just a few weeks away.” I glanced at the fraying gauze covering my foot. “At least I should be all healed up by then so I can fit into my dancing shoes.”

Clifton fixed me with an accusing stare. “Man, Julie Pearl, how could you be such an idiot, risking your life to save the likes of Renata Channing.”

“Why, Clifton, I didn’t know you cared.” My mocking tone was a poor attempt to squelch a sudden return of the horror of that night.

“Julie Pearl, you’re my best friend in the whole wide world. I love you like a sister.” Sniffing loudly, Clifton swiveled sideways. “I wish you
was
my sister. I’d have never let you run off to Little Rock to live with that she-devil. I’d have sat you down and talked some sense into you. I’d have—”

“Stop, Clifton.” I stretched one arm around him and laid my head on his shoulder. “I could beat you up in junior high, and I could do it again now if I had a mind to.”

“Yeah, well . . . not till your foot heals anyways.” He brushed the underside of his nose with the back of his hand. “So what are you hanging out here for? I got this cash register business down cold. Get out of here. Go see that Micah guy. Don’t you have stuff to settle with him?”

Clifton’s words nailed me. The flea market remodeling issues aside, Micah deserved to know how I’d determined I couldn’t possibly be Jenny Pearl
.

I kissed Clifton on the cheek. “I should go see Micah. You’re right—much as it pains me to admit it.”

“’Course I’m right. But, uh . . .” With one raised brow, Clifton eyed me up and down. “Number one, you might have some trouble operating a clutch just yet. And number two, I ain’t no fashion expert, but I’m pretty sure the style police will write you up a ticket if you appear in public wearing that get-up.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” This was my favorite granny dress, a ’70s classic with billowing sleeves and maxi skirt.

Then I glanced down and realized what Clifton referred to. I pinched the sides of my skirt and did a klutzy little one-footed dance. “So you don’t think the pink fuzzy bunny-rabbit slippers quite go with the red calico print?”

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “Your call, Jules, but if you ask me—”

The brass bells announced the arrival of another customer. Clifton directed the stocky gent to Herman Trapp’s used paperbacks booth and then hooked his arm in mine and propelled me toward our brand new elevator. “Go. Change your outfit and put on some decent shoes—if you can find any that’ll fit. I’ll get Katy to cover the register while I drive you over to Micah’s office.”

Which now took up two rooms behind the check-in counter at the resort. Did I really want to return there so soon? On the other hand, what choice did I have?

I went up to the apartment to change, but doubted I looked much better in a baggy fisherman’s sweater, brown bell-bottom cords, and Grandpa’s scuffed moccasins over thick socks. Then, as I wove my hair into a messy braid, all I could think about was Renata chopping off those beautiful dark waves I’d envied for so long.

Clifton drove me toward Hot Springs, but before we turned onto the road to the resort, I stopped him. “Take me on into town. I want to go to St. Joseph’s.”

“What’s wrong, Julie Pearl? Your foot feelin’ worse?”

“No, it’s fine.” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. “I need to check on Renata.”

Clifton snorted. “Now, why on earth would you want to do that?”

I couldn’t explain it. I only knew I wouldn’t be able to let all these bottled-up feelings go until I faced her again. “Please, Clifton, it’s just something I need to do.”

“All righty.” He shrugged and continued on into town. A few minutes later he pulled up at the main entrance of St. Joseph Mercy Health Center. “I’ll park and wait for you, okay?”

“No, don’t. I have no idea how long I’ll be.” I patted my purse. “Got my phone. I’ll call Sandy to come get me.”

“Julie Pearl—”

“Please, Clifton. Go back to the Swap & Shop. Grandpa needs you more than I do.”

He finally relented and drove away, while I limped inside and made my way to the information desk. “I’d like to ask about a patient, please. Renata Channing.”

“Sure, I’ll look her up.” The volunteer checked her computer screen, and then her smile slowly faded. “Are you a relative of Mrs. Channing?”

“I, uh . . . no.”

“Then all I can tell you, dear, is that she is no longer a patient here.”

“She was released?”

The volunteer pursed her lips. “Mrs. Channing has been transferred to another facility.”

Like I couldn’t guess what kind. Had Aunt Geneva made those arrangements? It would be reassuring to believe Larry had cut his business trip short so he could take care of his wife, but somehow I suspected that wasn’t the case. I thanked the lady and shuffled away.

Plopping into an empty chair in the hospital lobby, I fished my cell phone from my purse and hit the speed dial for Sandy’s cell. As I counted the rings, I wondered if Sandy would even be working today. For all I knew, Micah may have changed his building plans all over again, now that his intention to restore the resort for “Jenny” no longer had any relevance.

Sandy answered on the third ring. “How’s it going, girlfriend? You up and at ’em yet?”

I watched an elderly man in a hospital-issue robe scoot by with his walker. “I’m up, but hardly
at ’em
. Where are you?”

“At the office. We had some repairs and cleanup to do after . . . you know.”

For no good reason, I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Is he there?”

“Yep.” Sandy lowered her voice, too. “And as maniacally workaholic as I’ve ever seen him.”

I heard Micah’s gruff tone in the background. “Is that Julie? Let me talk to her.”

My stomach lurched. I gripped the phone with both hands. “Don’t, Sandy. I’m not ready—”

Muffled sounds, Sandy’s feeble protests.

Then Micah’s voice. “Julie. Where are you? We need to talk.”

C
HAPTER 40

It wasn’t twenty minutes before Micah’s red pickup pulled up at the entrance to St. Joseph’s. Micah stepped from the driver’s side and waved to me across the hood. By the time I hobbled outside, he had the passenger door open. I slanted him an uneasy smile as I levered myself into the seat.

Sliding behind the wheel, Micah started to fasten his seatbelt, then noticed I was fumbling with mine. With tenderness he removed my trembling fingers from the buckle and snapped it into place. For a moment our gazes met, and in the depths of his clouded gray eyes I read regret, anguish, love.

He broke away, his Adam’s apple working furiously as he steered the pickup toward the highway.

I noticed we were heading west. “Where exactly are we going?”

“No idea. And I don’t care, so long as it’s as far from the resort as we can get.”

Considering the autumn chill in the air, I came up with an idea. “How about the science museum? We’re headed that direction, and it shouldn’t be too crowded on a school day.”

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Apparently every elementary school in the county had decided today was perfect for a field trip. A line of bright yellow school buses dwarfed the few passenger vehicles parked in the lot.

Micah slapped the steering wheel. “Any other suggestions?”

“Just park. Let’s go in.” I brushed away a trickle of wetness from my cheek. “Getting lost in the crowd sounds pretty good right now.”

After Micah paid our admission, we wandered into the exhibit hall, dodging hordes of laughing children as they darted from one display to another. Teachers and chaperones meandered through the melee with deer-in-the-headlights stares.

I slipped my hand into Micah’s as we paused near the pendulum, watching it trace gentle arcs with trickling sand—so long as the motion wasn’t disturbed by impatient kindergartners. I sensed Micah’s impatience, too, in the tension in his forearm, the grim set of his bearded jaw.

And why was I so reluctant to be alone with him? How could things get any worse than they already were?

“Come on.” I led Micah toward the stairs. We bypassed the rowdy concessions area and exited to the outdoor deck, where relative (if chilly) quiet reigned under soughing pines and leafless oaks. I slid onto a picnic bench, and Micah settled beside me. At least this way I didn’t have to face him, but the warmth of his thigh against mine was almost as unnerving.

“Julie, I—”

“Micah, there’s—”

“Okay, you first,” he said with a hoarse laugh.

I shivered, and he drew me into the shelter of his arm. I took a deep breath. “I know what set Renata off. It’s because I told her I knew—” I choked, barely able to get the next words out. “It was all a huge mistake, Micah. I  . . . I’m not Jenny after all.”

“So I gathered.” His gaze slid my way. “You saw the DNA results?”

“No, but something else just as convincing. Some old photos Geneva Nelson gave me.”

He kept his arm around my shoulder, but he inhaled long and slow. “I think I always knew. It seemed too good to be true.”

I braved a look to search his face. “Are you okay?”

The muscles in his cheeks knotted. He pulled his arm away and fisted both hands on the scarred surface of the table. “That woman—what she did to you, to us—it’s unforgivable.”

I covered his hands with my own. “Don’t you understand, Micah? Forgiveness is the only choice we have.”

He shot me a look of utter disbelief. “You’re saying you can forgive Renata for the way she strung you along all this time? For playing with our lives? For creating this crazy fantasy that Jenny hadn’t died?”

“If I want to stay sane, yes. I have to forgive her. Like I said, it’s our only choice.”

“You want choices?” He clambered to his feet, then shook his fist at me. “How about hating her? How about demanding she pay for what she’s done? How about—”

“Stop, Micah. Stop and listen to yourself.” I swung my legs to the other side of the bench, wincing when my injured foot scraped the corner. Rubbing the pain away, I continued, “What have you gained by despising Renata all these years, besides ulcers and a broken heart?”

“I wouldn’t have a broken heart if she weren’t so vindictive, if I’d never gotten involved with her in the first place. And Jenny, poor little innocent Jenny—” His gaze settled on me, and his face contorted with renewed grief and guilt.

“Micah, don’t.” I rose and wrapped him in my arms. “I’d give anything if I could bring Jenny back for you. But I can’t. And you can’t, either. Not by holding onto your hatred for Renata, not by rebuilding the resort.”

“But—”

“No, listen to me.” I took his face between my hands, the rough feel of his beard so familiar, so dear. “We can either forgive Renata and put the past behind us, or we can let bitterness eat us alive. Don’t waste any more time hating her or yourself, Micah, not when you could be spending that time loving me.”

He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “I do love you, Julie. When you walked out on me, when you said we couldn’t be together anymore, something inside me died.”

I took a half-step back. “Don’t look to me to complete you, Micah, because I can’t. I meant what I said before. As long as you’re holding so tightly to guilt and hate and anger, there’s no room in your heart for love.” My voice broke on a sob. “There’s no room in your heart for me.”

~~~

I don’t think we said five words to each other on the drive back to the resort. Micah offered to take me all the way to Caddo Pines, but I didn’t think it was such a good idea under the circumstances. His nearness only worsened the pain of letting him go. Again.

He parked the pickup next to Sandy’s car in the paved parking area beside the house. When he shut off the engine, the silence settled over us like a heavy quilt, yet neither of us made a move to get out.

Finally I reached for the door handle. “I should go. Tell Sandy I’ll wait for her in the car.”

“Julie . . . help me.”

The words were barely a whisper, torn ragged from a parched throat. I jerked my head toward Micah and saw the brokenness in his staring eyes, trained on some object beyond the windshield.

Before I could answer, he continued in the same rasping voice. “When Jenny drowned—such a precious little girl—nothing about my life made sense anymore.” He sighed long and loud, his gaze sliding sideways to meet mine. “Not until I met you, Julie. Your spunk, your sass, your determination to rescue that mama dog and her pups.” A tiny chuckle vibrated his Adam’s apple before he turned sober again. “But your eternal optimism—it scared me. I wasn’t ready to let go of the past . . . or maybe I just didn’t know how.”

I swallowed against the tightening in my throat. “Will you ever be ready?”

“I’m trying. I want to be.” He pressed clenched fists into his eye sockets as his chest heaved on a choking sob. “I need you, Julie. Help me!”

I stretched my arms around him and tucked his head beneath my chin, already wet with my own tears. “It’s okay, I’m here. Always.”