Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1) (25 page)

Rhea nodded, staring at the packet. She’d open it after Mary left. “How did you know my address?”

“From your file at my employment agency.”

Rhea looked up and caught Mary blatantly staring at her. “Sorry for staring, but Rhea, you look a mess. Your eyes have dark circles under them, you’ve got a runny nose, and there’s white stuff above your upper lip. Why are you wearing your pajamas? Are you sick?” Rhea shrugged. She supposed her nose had started running when she was crying—she’d barely noticed. She guessed the white stuff above her lip was dried-up milk.

Mary looked a mess, too, but in a different way. She looked like an anorexic skeleton. Rhea clamped her lips shut, resisting the urge to tell Mary her true thoughts. “I had a rotten day.”

Mary placed her cool, pale hand on Rhea’s shoulder. “I hope things get better for you.”

Rhea nodded. “Thanks.”

Mary paused, looking down at the floor, scratching the back of her neck. “I wasn’t sure if you were still interested in temporary employment assignments,” she began.

Rhea shook her head. “Thanks for asking, but I can’t work two jobs anymore. Hopefully, if my sales continue to get better at the bakery, I’ll make enough money to live on, without having to take out a loan to pay my bills. The grand opening yesterday was wonderful. I made over two thousand dollars in sales.”

“My, how’d you turn your bakery around so quickly?”

Rhea blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I had an advisor, Martin Lane. Mary, he’s so wonderful…” her voice faltered, and she squeezed her hands together, trying to get ahold of herself. She sniffed. “He’s the most wonderful man. He’s kind, gentle, strong, caring…. Since I’ve met him, my life hasn’t been the same.”

“You mean your life has gotten better?”

She shrugged. “Better and worse.”

“What do you mean?” Mary’s soulful blue eyes, so much like Stan’s, were full of compassion.

“You’re in a hurry. It’d take me too long to tell you.”

“I have a few minutes.” Mary glanced at Rhea’s worn couch before carefully perching on the edge of the cushion.

Rhea sat beside her. In a rushed voice, she told about the conditions of Raven’s loan, her meeting Martin, and their deep attraction, and developing relationship. She then mentioned her confrontation with Raven earlier that day. “I can’t stop thinking about Martin. But, I feel horrible for hurting Raven. My sister is just so difficult and complicated, but I love her and don’t want her to get hurt.”

“My, your twin sounds like a piece of work. I remember during your wedding reception how she kept flirting with one of the groomsmen. She commanded attention, getting upset if he paid attention to another woman.”

Rhea frowned. “I don’t remember her getting upset.”

Mary shook her head. “She didn’t make a spectacle of herself or anything. It’s just that I saw her frown, glaring at him whenever she saw him talking to another female.” She shrugged her bony shoulders. “I just found it strange that she’d just met this man, and she wanted him to act as if they were a couple. Rhea, your sister was acting jealous, in a subtle way, and I found it highly disturbing.”

“Why was it disturbing to you?”

Mary widened her large blue eyes, looking at Rhea as if she were an idiot. “Why? Rhea, from what you’re telling me, the answer is obvious. Your sister slapped you because Martin, a man she’s not even dating, likes you instead of her.” She shuddered, placing her hand over her forehead. “Your sister sounds like she’s highly disturbed and needs to figure out the source of her problem. My former therapist said that our problems are linked to our childhood. When the two of you were growing up, did she not get enough attention from your parents?”

Rhea thought about growing up with Raven. Once they were teenagers, Raven had always been the one instigating trouble. Her parents had always been annoyed with Raven, complaining about her actions, arguing with her. From their teen years forward, Raven’s relationship with their parents was full of drama, especially when they’d reached puberty. Raven always wanted to be the center of attention at gatherings. Rhea had always been the opposite, a quiet bookworm who enjoyed school and never got into trouble. She recalled her parents had said a number of times to Raven,
“Why can’t you be more like Rhea?”

She didn’t want to tell Mary about Raven’s cancer, how she’d almost died when they were children. But, Mary’s observation shed light on Raven’s actions.

“From your extended silence, I guess the answer to my question is no.” Mary’s slightly husky voice broke into her thoughts.

She slowly nodded.

“Rhea, I’m just speaking from limited information, but I think your sister might be jealous of you. Deep down, you might even know that, but may have never admitted it to yourself.”

She shook her head, unable to process such thought-provoking information. Could Mary be right?

“I don’t want to talk about my sister anymore.”

Mary touched Rhea’s hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But, just think about what I’ve said.”

“Okay, I will.”

“So, you care about Martin?” Mary changed the subject.

“This is the first time I’ve felt any attraction for a man since your brother died.” She swallowed, gathering her thoughts. “But, things are a mess.”

“I’m sorry. I hope things work out for you. I also came to tell you I’m sorry about what I said when you first came to my agency.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never should’ve said that it was stupid of you to use Stan’s life insurance money to purchase your bakery. Baking is obviously your passion, and it appears you’re off to a good start with running your business.”

Mary, apologizing, twice in the same conversation? The thought literally blew her mind. Mary seldom admitted she was wrong, and she rarely apologized about anything. Stan had told Rhea it would take a rare type of man to marry his sister—that he could imagine her being single forever. He said that Mary’s strong, superior attitude, coupled with her bouts of anorexia, made her a difficult woman to deal with.

“Are you still dating Ron? I know you were mad at him at the restaurant.”

Mary’s skin reddened. “I regret telling you about that. I wanted to break up with him, but, I changed my mind. For the most part, I love Ron, but he drives me so crazy when he complains about my fatigue and my not eating. Rhea, when we argue about it he stalks out of the room like a wild animal.” She pressed her hands together. “Last night, he brought my favorite ice cream. We stayed up half the night, arguing because he couldn’t force me to take one bite. Sometimes, I feel like if we’re in a room together for too long, we’ll destruct.”

Shocked, Rhea wasn’t sure what she should say. She imagined it would be extremely hard for a man to love a woman who was starving herself to death. Mary lifted her bony wrist, glancing at her silver watch. “I must go. I’m just letting you know that I’ll be gone for a month and somebody else will be running the agency…just in case you change your mind and were interested in another assignment.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re leaving for an entire month? Are you going on a business trip?”

Mary shook her head, her red-painted mouth set in tense line. “No.” She paused. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Was the reason for her trip a secret? “I must go away for medical reasons.”

She looked away, toward the wall, as if ashamed. “I’m not sure if Stan told you about my anorexia?”

Rhea nodded. “He told me.”

“Well, sometimes…stuff happens, and I have a hard time controlling my anorexia. It’s getting worse, and my doctor suggested I go someplace for a while where I can get help.” She dipped her head. “Ron also said he wants me to get better. I honestly don’t know if he’ll stay with me. I’ve put him through so much already.”

What could she say? “I’m sorry.” Although they’d never been close, Rhea found herself worrying about Mary since she’d first visited her temp agency to search for work. She’d gotten more worried after Mary had been forced to go to the hospital. She closed her eyes, relief sweeping through her like a warm tidal wave. If Mary got help, started eating regularly, then she’d get better. “I’ll pray for your health.”

Mary smiled. “Thanks.” She patted Rhea’s shoulder and stood. “If I had more courage, I’d try a piece of your cake. But, Rhea, if I took one bite, I’d feel guilty about it all week.”

“I understand. Maybe you can try one of my desserts after…after your trip.”

“Maybe.”

She walked Mary to the door and opened it. She stepped into the hallway, and turned toward Rhea.

She hugged Rhea, leaving Rhea too stunned to say anything. Rhea returned Mary’s hug, trying not to react to how Mary’s bones poked beneath her skin. Sadness for Mary consumed her again. Rhea sniffed, blinked back her tears, knowing Mary might get upset with her again.

Mary quickly released Rhea, her face flushing. “Are you crying about me again?”

Rhea nodded.
What if Mary died?
“Mary, please get better. I meant what I said when you interviewed me at the agency. Call me if you ever want to talk. Maybe when you get back, we can go out for coffee.”

Mary nodded, and Rhea noticed the slump of her bony shoulders as she walked down the stairs.

Sniffing, Rhea closed the door before dropping onto the couch. Man, she was exhausted! Hopefully, Mary would get better soon. Mary’s insight about her relationship with Raven gave her much to think about. She closed her eyes, trying to process this newfound information. Could Raven be jealous of her?

She pushed the thought aside, unable to focus on it any longer. She was grateful that the bakery was closed tomorrow since it was Monday. Taking a deep breath, she ripped open the packet that Mary had given to her. She gasped, her heart pounding. The very first picture was of her and Stan. They’d mistakenly thought they’d stolen away to a private corner during a family event. Stan passionately kissed her in the photo and, unbeknownst to them, Mary had taken their picture.

She looked through the stack of photos several times, fondly recalling the two years she’d been married to Stan. It was refreshing to see the happiness sparkling in each picture.

When she went to bed that night, she felt her stomach ache from all of the sugar she’d consumed. Eating cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner had not been a very healthy idea. She cleaned her messy face before taking a long, hot shower. When she slipped into the bed, she was plagued with dreams. She dreamed about Stan kissing her amidst rose bushes. She was then tormented with dreams about angry church members who unfairly judged her, gossiping behind her back.

The cry from the baby in the upstairs apartment woke her up. She placed her glasses over her eyes and stared at the clock. It was three in the morning and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Cradling her aching head, her mind wandered.

“Lord, I’m so confused right now. I love Martin, but I don’t want to be a preacher’s wife again. I loved Stan, too, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to be involved with another man right now. I wonder if Stan would approve.” She paused, thinking about what else she could say to God. “I’m also confused about Raven. I love my sister, Lord, and I don’t want to hurt her. Lord, please be with Mary as she goes on her trip. Lord, please help her to heal. I don’t want her to die… Jesus, please help me. I’m struggling and I need your help, Lord. Amen.”

She got under the covers and tried to fall back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-three

Martin’s phone buzzed. His heart skipped as he jerked it from his pocket.
Maybe Rhea was calling!
He’d been hoping to hear from her since their disastrous business dinner three days ago. He’d already called and left several messages, but so far, no word.

He checked the caller ID. It was his father.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Martin, the pastoral selection committee has made a decision about the candidates.” His voice filled with excitement as he delivered the news. “Son, you made it! They chose both you and Michael Tucker as candidates.”

Martin gripped the phone, pleasure flowing through him like warm honey. “Thank You, Jesus.”

“Now, we need to let Michael Tucker preach since the congregation is not familiar with him. He’s scheduled to speak this coming Sunday during the evening service. He’ll be scheduled for several Sundays. Since there’s seven weeks until the election, that’ll give the congregation plenty of time to get familiar with Michael’s style.” He paused. “We’ll be announcing the candidates and issuing the schedule this Sunday during the services.”

“What about the question-and-answer sessions?”

Before the election, the congregation had the chance to ask the candidates questions during an open interview in the church.

“The committee and the deacons will organize it and then make an announcement in church.”

Euphoria swirled within his soul. Martin ended the call with his dad, shoving his phone back into his pocket. His dismal day already looked a little bit brighter. He sighed, staring at the trees across the street. How would Rhea react when he told her about his candidacy?

*

The following Saturday, Martin pulled into the church parking lot, surprised to see his Uncle Jesse’s car. He’d hoped the church would be empty since he needed some time alone with God to think about his wayward week while he prepared food for the Ladies Fellowship Luncheon.

Another church member was supposed to make the lunch that morning, but she woke up sick. She’d called Martin, and he agreed to do it early this morning since he was busy later.

He sighed. He still had not heard from Rhea since their dinner date one week ago. Should he go to Raven’s house to see if she had any idea what was wrong with Rhea? No, there was no telling how she’d react if he did that.

As he walked toward the church building, he knew, deep in his heart, that news about their date had somehow gotten back to Raven, and she had confronted Rhea, just as Rhea predicted.

He shook his head, entering the building. Uncle Jesse met him in the foyer. “What are you doing here, Uncle Jesse?”

“I know your father sometimes comes to church early to work on his sermons, so I thought I might catch him here before I went jogging at the track this morning.” He glanced around the building. “I only saw the janitor cleaning the pews, so I guess your father’s not coming here early today.” He gazed at Martin. “Congratulations on making the candidacy!” He patted Martin’s shoulder.

“Thanks. You know how excited I was to hear that I’d been accepted.”

“You’re one step closer to seeing your dream come true.”

Rhea’s beautiful face popped into his mind. Not all of his dreams had come true. He still dreamed about Rhea accepting both him and his profession. Seeing her pretty, smiling face each day would be like a splash of yellow sunshine on a dark dismal day.

Jesse leaned toward Martin, studying his face. “So, what’s going on with you?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

He glanced at his gold watch. “I don’t have to do my exercising right away.” Jesse placed his hand on his shoulder, his dark eyes full of warmth and wisdom. “Did you want to talk about it over a cup of coffee?”

“Okay. We can talk while I cook.”

“Cook?”

He explained his mission this morning.

“Won’t the food be cold by the time lunch starts?”

“They’ll re-heat it later.” They walked toward the basement stairs.

After they went down the narrow steps, they entered the expansive fellowship hall. Long, rectangular-shaped tables surrounded the room, covered with pale pink and white tablecloths. Small vases of fake pink and white roses adorned each table, and a podium had been set up in front of the room. Martin explained, “Linda Tucker and her grandnephew’s wife are supposed to come.”

While he cooked the food, Martin spent the morning explaining to his Uncle Jesse about his rough week.

Footsteps echoed from the adjoining hallway, interrupting their conversation. “What are you doing here, Jesse?” Linda Tucker strolled into the kitchen sporting a yellow business suit and carrying a leather portfolio. She glared at Jesse as if he were vermin. “For somebody who’s not a member of this church, you’re sure here an awful lot.”

“Why does that bother you? I’ve noticed Michael Tucker has been coming to the evening service for the last few weeks, and he’s not a member of this church,” Martin snapped.

Linda jerked back. “You need to watch your tone,
Pastor
Martin! I’ve never had a preacher speak to me in that tone of voice before. Remember what I told you. I know all about what you’ve done in your past.”

Why did she keep bringing up his past? Martin glanced at Linda. Her mouth was set in a hard line as she clutched the portfolio in her bony arms. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was looking at the situation the wrong way. Although the predicament with Michael Tucker upset him, he knew he had to pray about Linda’s misery. “I’m sorry Sister Linda. It’s been a rough week.”

He turned toward the door. “I’ve already prepared the spaghetti for the lunch. Everything is in the kitchen.” The spaghetti was now finished, but it was a couple of hours before the event started.

She frowned. “You made the food?” She scrunched her nose, as if the feast he worked so hard to prepare smelled bad.

“Yes.” He then explained that their cook had fallen ill and he’d agreed to take her place. “The spaghetti is still on the stove, and the sisters manning the kitchen can reheat it. There’s garlic bread in the freezer and salad in the refrigerator.”

He turned to leave, and her voice stopped him. “Have you spoken with your father?”

Martin sensed Linda wanted to do battle with him. “About what?”

“You know Michael is supposed to preach tomorrow night so that the congregation can see if they like him.”

Martin shrugged. “Yes?” Michael’s upcoming sermon had been on his mind all week. In fact, his thoughts had been so cluttered with negativity that he wasn’t even sure what to pray about anymore. He certainly couldn’t pray that another pastor do a terrible preaching job. He didn’t want his congregation to embrace Michael Tucker, but if it was the Lord’s will, then it would be for the best.

“Well, we just received word late last night that Pastor Frank is coming to hear Michael preach tomorrow.”

Martin jerked back, his eyes widening. “Pastor Frank is coming
here
?”

“Yes, I called your father about it yesterday.”

Uncle Jesse glanced at Linda. “Thanks for letting us know, Sister Linda.” Before Martin could say anything, Jesse led him outside. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. My dad left a few messages for me late last night and early this morning, telling me to call him back. I’d meant to call him later today.”

“I’ll be praying for you, but I think we both need to pray for Sister Linda. That woman’s miserable, and she needs the touch of the Holy Spirit,” Uncle Jesse advised.

Martin’s head was so full, it felt like his brain would explode as he walked to his car. Was the Lord telling him he needed to look elsewhere to lead a flock? The fact that the famous Pastor Frank would come to his church to show his support for the opposing pastor stunned him. Most of the congregation was behind Martin taking over as lead pastor of this church.

However, would the congregation change their minds about supporting Martin once they heard Michael preach, and saw the famous Pastor Frank give Michael his approval?

The August 17
th
voting day was still a month and a half away, surely a lot could happen during that time.

His torrid thoughts turned to Rhea. Would she ever speak to him again? All of these thoughts tumbled through his mind like scattered snowflakes in the wind. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts.

He’d visit Rhea tomorrow. If he showed up at her apartment, she couldn’t ignore him.

*

After Martin had preached the early service at his church, he’d heard parishioners talking about the upcoming visit of Pastor Frank that evening. Michael Tucker’s sermon was scheduled for six o’clock and Martin had spent the previous night tossing and turning, still unsure about the fate of his relationship with Rhea, and his role at the church.

He stood at the wooden doors, shaking hands with parishioners, his father beside him. Once everyone had taken their exit, Martin spotted the carts of folding chairs in the hallway. He frowned, pointing at the chairs. “What are those doing there?”

“We’re expecting more people than usual for this evening.”

“Dad, do you really think he’ll come tonight?” Was Linda just saying this to get people riled up?

“Yes, his assistant called my cell phone early this morning, re-confirming that he’s coming.”

He squeezed Martin’s shoulder. “Son, don’t frown. We have to have faith.”

They walked to his father’s office, and he closed the door. “Don’t let everybody’s excitement about Pastor Frank’s visit put a damper on your mood.” Dad sat in a chair.

“Dad, you know people will remember that Pastor Frank gave his personal endorsement to Michael when they vote. They probably watch the man every week on TV.”

“Keep the matter in prayer.” His father opened a bottle of water. “How are things going with Rhea?”

“Lousy.” He told him about his date with Rhea and about her refusal to talk to him. He glanced at his watch. “Later this morning, I’m going to her apartment. She doesn’t answer when I call, text, or e-mail her. I figure if I show up at her apartment, she can’t turn me away.”

“You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

“No.”

“You should go talk to Rhea because if you don’t, you’ll be worried about it all day. Just don’t forget that we have a meeting before Michael Tucker preaches this evening.”

Later, he rushed out of the church and stopped at the grocery store, purchasing a dozen red roses. He then drove to Rhea’s apartment. He parked at the curb and noticed Rhea walking up the stairs of her apartment building, still wearing her church clothes. She saw him and hesitated, standing on the steps, staring.

Martin approached her, clutching the bouquet. He took her hand. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly. He released her hand and gave her the flowers. Her caramel-colored eyes were full of questions.

She looked so tired! Had she been suffering from sleepless nights, too? “Rhea, can we talk?”

“No.”

“Rhea, we need to talk.” A few people walked by and were now looking in their direction.

He gritted his teeth, frustrated. He needed answers, and he needed them now. There was no way that Rhea was going to cut him out of her life without an explanation. She could at least be honest with him. He leaned toward her, wishing he could touch her, hold her, but knowing that it was best to give her space at the moment. “Will you at least spend a few minutes with me?”

She glanced at the flowers before looking at him again, her eyes wary. “Okay.”

The blazing afternoon sun beat down upon them, and Rhea removed her shades from her purse, placing them over her beautiful eyes.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your plans today.”

“You didn’t. You’re right, we really do need to talk.”

The weight of the previous week weighed upon him, almost making him feel as if he would collapse from the entire emotional toll.

Rhea’s mouth was set in a tense line as she clutched her flowers. Had he imagined the chemistry they’d shared? She acted like she didn’t want to be around him. “If you’d rather not speak to me, or talk to me another time, that’s fine.” She touched his arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired, in a bad mood. We really do need to talk.”

Praise the Lord, she didn’t send him away! “Okay. Do you mind if we go to Monroe Park? It’s quiet and it shouldn’t be too crowded today.”

“Monroe Park is fine.” He led her to his car. Not in a vivacious mood that day, he didn’t bother playing his jazz music as they made their way toward their destination. Hopefully, she would let him know what was bothering her. Not speaking to her all week had worn him down, made him wonder, not allowing him to come to a conclusion about their relationship. Should he have respected her privacy, not shown up at her place today? But, if he’d done that, he still wouldn’t have known what was wrong, or, if he’d done something to offend her.

Maybe she still grieved for Stan, still had doubts concerning his profession. Could that possibly be? He flexed his sweaty fingers, took a few deep breaths.

After they exited the car, the blazing heat showed no mercy. Wildflowers bloomed in the vast green landscape and a few people whizzed by on rollerblades. A butterfly fluttered by, and a puffy black and yellow bumble bee buzzed around. A few people ran down the path, and a vendor stood in the shadows, selling visitors icy cold bottles of soda and water. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. “Would you like something to drink?” A light breeze blew, bringing brief relief to the intense heat.