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Authors: Kathryn Cushman

BOOK: A Promise to Remember
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Her curiosity forced her into the conversation at this point.
"Really? What's it like?"

"It's in the heart of Montecito. They have a gym, incredible
landscaping, and a newly remodeled sanctuary. All the `beautiful
people'-so called-go there. If you drive by on a Sunday morning, I bet you wouldn't find a single American-made vehicle in
the parking lot. Besides that, you saw the pictures in the paper.
You know the kind of clothes those people wear."

Trish nodded. "Even their name is stuck-up."

"A name can't be stuck-up. The United Church of Montecito,
what's stuck-up about that?" Rennie said.

"Have you ever heard one of the members refer to it as The
United Church of Montecito? They all call it Uni-Mon. Like
it's a sorority."

Margaret smacked her hand against the table. "Or better. It
reminds me of those weird Japanese cartoons all the little kids
love these days. Frugy-Mon ... or Kooky-Mon... Well, you know
what I mean."

Beth's mother, Christine, spoke up. "That's not entirely fair.
I've been there for a couple of different events. There is a lot
of money floating around at that church, but look where it's located. People who live in that area have a lot of money. Do
you think any of them would want to learn more about a God
who provided a little shack in the middle of their oasis?

"I think there are different styles of worship for different
people, and I don't think we're the ones to judge. I'm sure some
of them would be offended by our casual Sunday services, but
we wouldn't attract the working class and the surfer kids if we
tried to be all fancy. Maybe their ministry is to the jet set. You
know, those people need Jesus just as much as anyone else. We
each have our place in the Plan."

Margaret lifted her left shoulder in partial defeat. "Maybe."

Melanie finished her meal and stood to leave. She nodded at
Rennie. "I guess I'm okay, even in your book. You said two Christians shouldn't bring each other into court. I'm not a Christian,
and have never claimed to be."

She watched Rennie's mouth fly open and savored the victory.
That would teach her. "See you next week, ladies." She tossed
the money to pay for her and Sarah on the table, walked past
the stunned faces, and retrieved her daughter. As she pushed
through the door, she wondered if anyone would show up next
Sunday.

 
chapter twenty-one

Blair leaned his elbows on his desk and stared at the closed
door. Thankfully, he'd made it through the house and into his
office without encountering Andie. Her questions only fueled
his guilt. Besides, she didn't seem to want to see him, either.
Time apart was better for both of them right now.

He reached for the clasps on his overloaded briefcase. They
sprang open, revealing a gigabyte's worth of paperwork that
needed his attention. At least it would keep his mind off everything else.

The phone rang. The light blinked atop the handset, working
in time with the sound.

He had spent the last couple of days dodging calls from a
paranoid Mike Daniels. He wouldn't call at home, would he?
Most likely one ofAndie's friends. She could answer it; he had
work to do.

"Blair." Andie's voice called from the hallway. "Blair.
Phone."

Oh no.

She opened the office door. "It's Sam Campbell."

Didn't lawyers ever take a rest? Sam called at least three times
a week. What more could he possibly need to know?

At least it wasn't Mike.

Andie didn't leave the office. A call this late meant something
was happening, and she would not leave until she found out
what it was. She leaned against the wall and watched.

The paperwork from Parsons Bank and Trust sat on the top
of the stack. Blair casually tossed an empty file folder over it
before answering. "Hello, Sam."

"Evening, Blair. Sorry to call so late, but there's something I
think you need to be aware of."

Blair looked toward Andie. It had been little more than a
week since her fainting episode; he tried not to show alarm.
He forced a casual tone. "Really? What is that?"

"The police department didn't exactly volunteer every scrap
of information they had about Chad. They didn't hide anything,
mind you. They just didn't advertise. You know what I mean?"

Blair knew what was coming. He sank back into the seat behind him. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse,
they always did.

Sam cleared his throat. "Today it became clear that Les Stewart's investigator has uncovered Chad's two previous pullovers
before the ticket. Knowing the way he works, I won't be surprised
to see it in the paper in the next couple of days. Maybe even
tomorrow. I thought that you should be prepared."

"Then they'll be printing a lie, and well sue them for libel.
There weren't two previous pullovers, only one. It happened in
November, just after he'd gotten his license. Anything they say
beyond that is fabrication."

Across the room, Andie slid down the wall to the floor and
pulled her knees up to her chest. "There were two."

"Sam, I'll call you right back." He hung up the phone without
waiting for a reply. "What did you say?"

"Kyle Ledger called me in December and told me he'd caught
Chad speeding. I promised to talk to him, and I did."

How could she have kept this from him? About his own son?
"You mean to tell me there was a second time I didn't even know
about? Why didn't you tell me?"

Andie's eyes narrowed. She looked at him, and in her eyes
Blair saw pure contempt. "I knew you would hit the roof. Chad
was having enough problems at the time without having to deal
with all that."

He stood, and by sheer force of will restrained himself from
grabbing and shaking her. "If I'd known about it, maybe I could
have stopped the accident."

A glimmer of moisture filled her eyes, but these weren't the
tears of grief he'd seen so much of. These were the tears of
hatred. "Really? What good would a week of berating have done?
It was just a few weeks later that he got the ticket that cost
him his license-because you refused to take him to traffic
court, remember? You said a six-month suspension would stop
his recklessness." She pushed herself back up the wall. "Your
methods didn't stop it, either. I'm so sick of everything being
my fault."

She ran out of the room, and the sound of her footsteps
pounding up the stairs echoed through the house. Finally, a
loud bang shook the walls. She had slammed the door to their
bedroom.

Blair knew where he wasn't welcome tonight. Just as well.

He picked up the phone.

Sam answered on the first ring. "I take it there was a second
incident."

"I can't believe she kept that from me. If I'd known, I could
have done something."

"Perhaps. I'm sorry to have made more trouble."

"No, you were right in calling. Better to find it out from you
now than to learn about it in the paper tomorrow."

"That was my thought. Blair, can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure." What could it hurt?

"I've seen lots of similar cases. These situations can tear
the healthiest of relationships apart. I know you have a marriage worth fighting for. Get to work on it now-before it's too
late."

Blair didn't answer, just hung up. How can you rebuild a marriage after something like this? Andie blamed him for Chad's
death. How could he look at her, knowing how she felt?

A dark emptiness surrounded him. Maybe Sam was right, but
at this point, he didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He
had lost his son. He was about to lose his house. It only made
sense that he would lose his wife, too.

Andie heard the pounding. It wasn't so close, but near enough
to be annoying. She pulled herself up from the depths of sleep
and listened.

The back door.

Most likely Christi, since she knew the gate combination.
She'd found the door locked and would assume Andie was
not home when her knocks went unanswered. That was just
fine with Andie. She closed her eyes and drifted back into the
darkness.

The pounding was closer now-more insistent.

Andie opened her eyes again and looked around the room. The
light splashed across the small sitting room, making it appear
cheery and cozy. But what was the knocking?

When she looked through the door into the master bedroom,
a shadow came from the direction of the door off the deck. It
continued to pound, and though it was the last thing she wanted
to do right now, Andie very slowly peeked around the corner.

Christi stood on her deck, knocking on the glass doors that
led to the bedroom. A scowl scrunched her face. If she didn't
show her face, Christi might just knock down the door.

Andie sighed. She shuffled over and slid the door open. "What
time is it?"

Christi studied her, and Andie knew she couldn't approve.
Still in yesterday's clothes, unbrushed hair, unwashed face.
She was kind enough to bite her tongue at least. "Ten. What's
up with you?"

Andie shook her head, still frazzled from her scare. "Been
fighting with Blair. Spent all of last night in our sitting room with
the remote. I must have fallen asleep on the couch sometime
this morning."

"Men." Christi came inside. "Back door's locked. Took me
a while to find you. Where's your Windex? I left marks on the
glass." Without waiting for an answer she disappeared into the
house. Several minutes later she reappeared, glass cleaner in
hand. As she wiped the tiny smudges, she glanced toward Andie.
"This ought to cheer you up. I come bearing good news."

"Good news?"

"Yep." She smiled with satisfaction-whether at her cleaning
job or the weight of the upcoming news, Andie couldn't tell.

"Come into the sitting room." Andie led Christi into her favorite room in the house-besides her studio, anyway. Decorated in pale sage and gray, it had a tiny fireplace surrounded
by a loveseat, a chair, and a small desk. It had always been her
space. Even Chad had left her alone here. Maybe that was
why it seemed a haven now; it was the one place in the house
unhaunted by his memory.

Christi perched on the loveseat, Andie at the desk. "Okay.
I'm ready for some good news."

"We can go back to Alfords." Christi smiled in victory and
waited. Braced, it seemed, for shouts of triumph.

Andie flinched and felt something like nausea in the pit of
her stomach. "What?" Her voice came out a raspy whisper in
spite of her efforts.

Christi opened her eyes a little wider and leaned forward. "I
said, we can start going back to Alfords. The Johnston woman
was transferred to another store. I wanted to be certain before I
told you. It's true. Everyone is thrilled. See what happens when
we all stick together?"

Andie pressed her fingers against her lips and focused on deep
breaths. They did this for me. They ruined that other woman's
job, for me. "That's ... great news."

Christi stared at Andie, silent. The clock ticked from the
office wall, a bird chirped somewhere outside the window, and
Andie's pulse thrummed in her ears.

When Christi stood, the hint of a frown formed on her lips.
"Got to run. Promised Scott I'd meet him for an early lunch."
She made a show of looking at her watch, although Andie knew
it was an excuse.

"Don't keep him waiting, then. Men hate that." She smiled
stiffly, glad that Christi had the perception to leave her alone.

Christi nodded. "I'll let myself out the back door."

"Okay." Andie collapsed across the sofa before Christi had
closed the door behind her.

Andie's friends had forced that poor woman from her job.
No. Andie had. Because she didn't have the nerve to stand up
and tell them, No, this isn't right." Because she had smiled
and let them carry on. Because she was, and always had been,
a doormat.

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