Calculated Risk (18 page)

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Authors: Zoe M. McCarthy

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Calculated Risk
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“No, not that.” He sounded as if he spoke to a rebellious child. “What you did yesterday.”

She rested her elbow on her thigh and dropped her forehead into her hand. So far, this did not sound like a reformed Jason wanting her back. “Tell me what you think I did yesterday that was so dirty.”

Before he could answer, she sat erect. Was this his jealousy talking? Had Angela told him about her feelings for Nick? Feelings Nick did not return?

“I don't appreciate you siccing your dad on me.”

“I didn't sic—Daddy called you?”

“Yes. From the airport in Hamburg. That was a low blow.”

“Jason, I did not ask Daddy to call you. I emphatically told him not to intervene.” At least she'd meant to sound emphatic. How could Daddy do that to her? When would he learn he wasn't God?

“You need to rein him in. It's over. We'd never work.”

He meant she'd never work for him. What was so unappealing about her that she didn't work for men?

“I'm not saying I want you back, Jason, but would you explain to me why you don't think we would work?”

His tone ratcheted down. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“OK. But remember you asked.” He took in a breath. “You're disorganized. I can picture what our house would look like. You challenge my decisions all the time. Your time is all planned up—you work late, you prepare for Sunday school and church stuff, you give kids piano lessons, and make dates with Angela and the girls. With my career, I need someone available at a moment's notice to be at my side for business dinners, or to entertain in a neat house with good food.”

Maybe she should've left his reasons for dumping her to her imagination. Trying not to be herself around Jason hadn't worked. Who she was had seeped through her efforts. But in all fairness, she gave only one child piano lessons. Jason was always exaggerating. And she didn't challenge all his decisions. More like he challenged most of hers. She had hostess skills. She could make napkins into birds of paradise. And she needed time out with friends. Being with Jason was exhausting.

“You there?”

“Yes.” It all made sense now. “You're right, Jason. We are not good for each other. Thanks for having the courage to break it off.”

Silence.

“Jason, I am not being smug. I mean it. God planned different people for us. I pray you find the right woman for you. And I am truly sorry Daddy called you.”

“No problem.” He sounded tentative, as if he thought she might be baiting him. “So, you're good on everything?”

Other than the fact that his assessment of her still stung, and the man she'd waited for all her life was rekindling a flame with a smart, beautiful, and probably highly organized woman, she was just peachy. “I'm fine. Goodbye, Jason.”

She set her phone next to her on the top step, raised her face, and closed her eyes.
Thank you, Lord, for letting me see why Your decision was right about Jason.
You didn't let me down. But Nick, Lord? Why'd You let me fall for him?

The marimba played. Daddy. She heaved a sigh, buried the tongue-lashing he deserved for calling Jason, and answered her cell.

“Cisney. It's Mom. Daddy's had a heart attack.”

 

 

 

12

 

The consulting firm's project director motioned for Nick to take a seat in his office's sitting area. Nick chose the sofa, and John sat in the chair on the other side of the coffee table. They popped the tops on the soft drinks John had bought them from the machines on the first floor.

As they had weaved through the cubicles to reach John's office, Nick had seen no one working during the holiday. For that, Option B earned a point. Nick doubted Option B could top the job he'd interviewed for yesterday, but he'd listen.

They did away with the small talk, and then John fingered one of several self-adhesive notes on his legal pad.

Cisney would like this guy. Nick curbed a smile.

John took a sip from his can and set it on the coffee table. “Even before hearing the headhunter's glowing rundown of your qualifications, your reputation preceded you, Nick. And I plan to move you to Charlotte with our offer. I know the headhunter told you we were interviewing you for the valuation position, but I think I've got a job far more challenging to propose to you.”

Option B was looking up. “I'd like to hear about it.”

“Health insurance companies need help in getting better assumptions for their five-year financial forecasts in representing the value of hospital negotiated contracts.”

Nick chuckled.

“Our negotiators are very territorial and secretive. I know they need to prevent proposed rates from leaking to competing hospitals, but we have to drag estimates from them that are soft, at best, for the overall worth of our hospital contracts.” John leaned forward. “We have a unique idea to aid health actuaries in analyzing pending hospital agreements before their negotiators lock into potentially risky multiple-year contracts. The bonus to getting actuaries involved in negotiations with hospitals is that they can capture the information they need to feed their forecasts models.” He picked up his soft drink can and sat back. “What do you think so far, Nick?”

“Tell me more.”

John filled Nick in on the details. Option B came from behind and took Option A by a length for the challenge he wanted. Seemed as if God had taken care of his concern about working with Dana. Some things needed no mulling over. He accepted the job.

On the way to his car, Nick checked his watch. The interview had lasted about an hour compared to yesterday's two. All the better to get back to his family and the woman who kept creeping into his thoughts, even during his career-changing interview.

 

****

 

Ellie pulled onto Interstate 77, heading toward Charlotte.

Cisney interlaced her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking. “Thank you for taking me to the airport, Ellie. I wish I didn't have to ruin your holiday.”

Ellie patted Cisney's arm. “You aren't ruining anything. I'm glad I can help. Thelma will let the men know what's happened when they come home.”

“I can't believe my father had a heart attack. He's as strong as a bull. He avoids fat, and he exercises. Could a full day of flights home after little sleep stress a healthy heart?”

Compassion filled Ellie's eyes. “You said he's stable?”

“Yes. Mom said he's scheduled for more tests, but he seems to be resting. The doctor assured her that Daddy's treatment starting within an hour of his first pains is good.”

Cisney's lips trembled and tears threatened to flow. She pretended to look out the passenger window. Ellie shouldn't have to deal with her falling apart.

Cisney's reflection in the glass--the woman returning her tearful gaze—looked how she felt. Faded. As if she barely existed in physical form. As if an incomprehensible dimension of time held her captive. How could Daddy, at age fifty-four, suffer a heart attack? He was too solid, too in control. No heart attack could take down the man of iron. Maybe the diagnosis was wrong. Doctors made mistakes all the time.

“May I pray for your father?” Ellie's voice seemed distant.

Pray? That's what she should be doing. But every time she tried, her mind drifted to images of Daddy dying. She swallowed. Where was her strength to pray?

Cisney turned to Ellie. “Yes, of course. Please. I can't seem to stay focused long enough to pray. I wish I could.”

Ellie glanced her way. “Don't feel guilty. Just keep trying. God hears your groans.” Ellie kept her gaze on the road. “Father, You are sovereign. You know all things and are all-powerful. You are in control. You know what is best for each of us. We pray You heal Cisney's father. Let this be a time he draws close to You and depends on You. Please provide peace and comfort to Cisney and her family. We ask these things in Jesus's name. Amen.”

Like a vibrating recliner, Cisney's body buzzed for a brief moment midway through Ellie's prayer. Then she calmed. She laid her hand on Ellie's arm. “Thank you, Ellie. Those were the words I needed to hear.”

Ellie smiled. “I pray about God's control often. If you haven't already noticed, I fall into the temptation of worrying.”

What had that little buzz been all about? “I'm clueless at the moment, but I know God is saying something to me through your prayer.” If only she could remember what words Ellie had spoken the moment she'd felt the quickening.

Ellie gave her hand a squeeze, and then focused on her driving, as if she were giving Cisney the time to think. Did Nick know what a gem his mother was?

Lord, I know You're trying to tell me something.
What had she felt before Ellie's prayer, besides total confusion? No doubt, there. Fear. Why had Daddy's heart attack threatened her wellbeing?

She thought back over the years. Had there ever been a time Daddy had been absent, physically or mentally, in her decision-making process? She'd always depended on his wisdom. Even when she'd thought he was wrong, she always ended up doing what he wanted. Right down to the men she loved.

Now that she thought about it, Jason and earlier boyfriends were so much like Daddy. No surprise. Didn't a daughter always measure men she dated against her father's character, his stature, and his passion? She'd measured them, all right, and then accepted them as almost as good as Daddy. Who could compare to Daddy?

Let this be a time he draws close to You and depends on You.
That was it! The part of Ellie's prayer that niggled her. As far as she knew, Daddy depended on no one. Yet a glitch in his flesh-and-blood heart proved he was a weak human, after all. He didn't sit on the left hand of God. Did she
need to see Daddy as fallible more than he did? Why did that revelation hurt so badly? To witness that the mistakes made by her king on her pedestal were as foolish as her own?

Let this be a time he draws close to You and depends on You.
Could Daddy humble himself to depend on God?

Lord, please help my father see Your truth, and help me embrace it.

Cisney's tears flowed. She held up her hand. “Don't panic, Ellie. These are a-ha tears.”

Ellie looked uncertain. She whipped a tissue from the box on the console and handed it to Cisney.

Cisney wiped her face. “Honest. My father is, let's say, a headstrong man, and I have spent my life trying to please him. Like you inferred in your prayer, he is no match for our sovereign Lord. God wins hands down. I want to love Daddy for many more years on this earth, but I don't have to try to please both God and him—or please every boyfriend who earns Daddy's approval.” She dabbed the tissue under each eye. “I'm sad and scared for him, but free at the same time…you know? Free from the pressure. Free to love the person God sends my way.”

Ellie gave Cisney's hand a squeeze. “Good for you.” She bit her lip. “In your new freedom, could my son be in the running?”

Cisney laughed and applied a second tissue to her wet face. “I think your son has given his heart to someone else.” A twinge of sadness dampened her tone.

Ellie frowned, and her contorted face most likely had nothing to do with the slow truck she changed lanes to pass. “I don't know what's going on with Nick and Dana. He's not offering up any information. When I think of the pain he went through after their breakup, and what he could suffer again if he's not careful, I wonder if God forgot to pump intelligence into one section of his brain.”

“Your son is a good man, Ellie. Nick is kind and caring.” She hesitated until Ellie glanced her way. “Maybe a little light on his communication skills.”

Ellie chuckled. “He's like his father, but don't let that bother you if you do love him. His father proved trainable. You saw how Roger told me he was going to the hardware store and asked if I needed anything. Thirty years ago, Roger would have gone off to the hardware store without thinking to tell me, and then wonder why I was upset when I thought he'd been kidnapped. And then, of course, I'd have to make a separate trip for the lettuce.” She smiled. “And another thing. Men like Roger and Nick may seldom compliment you when you look nice, but they will never tell you when you don't.”

Cisney's heart squished like a poked sponge. Even though he'd almost choked on his words, Nick had already told her she looked beautiful.

The navigational system talked more frequently as they neared the airport.

How was Mom holding up? How had she coped all these years? Had she spent her married life trying to please Daddy, too? Cisney had always thought Mom functioned like a normal mother. Took pictures, kissed boo-boos, drove her to piano lessons, and made sure she was involved in church. But she'd never thought about Mom's marriage having unique struggles. A mother-daughter conversation was well overdue.

Ellie parked in the loading zone outside the terminal. They got out, and the two of them wrestled the suitcase Cisney brought with her from the trunk.

They embraced for a long moment.

“I'll be praying for all of you,” Ellie said into Cisney's hair.

“Thank you for everything. I'm glad I've gotten to know you and your family. You were what I needed this weekend.”

They separated, and Cisney rolled her suitcase toward the terminal. At the glass doors, she turned and waved. “Don't let Nick forget to bring my other suitcase.”

Ellie lifted her hand in farewell. “Ask Nick about the swans.”

Cisney cocked her head. “The swans?”

Ellie nodded and climbed into her sedan.

 

****

 

As soon as Nick parked in the driveway, the garage door opened on Mom's side. His gaze shot to the rearview mirror. Behind him, still in the street, Mom waited in her car. Alone. Where was Cisney?

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