Larkspur Cove (48 page)
“Whoa, there,” he said, pulling me close, his arms tightening around me, a strong, safe circle it seemed nothing could break.“Easy, now.” He tucked my head beneath his chin, cradling me against his chest. I took in the feel of him, heard his heart beating beneath my ear. This was finally real. He was here.
Dimly, I heard the other boats pulling in – Jake talking, Sheila taking charge of Birdie, my mother worrying about how to get out of the boat, Meg crying and thanking God, Taz saying, “Good work, Henderson. I knew you were top shelf all along!” Nester asked how we’d been found, Pop Dorsey promised Birdie her pick of the penny candy, Jake related details about having discovered us in the restroom.
Mart pulled away from me, held my face in his hands and looked down, his eyes a warm, earthy green in the morning light. “You’re all right.” It was a question, a statement, a sigh of relief.
“We’re fine.” Tears pressed into my eyes, but I blinked them away. This wasn’t a time for tears, even happy ones.
He slid a thumb across my cheek, catching a stray droplet of moisture. “Pretty good trick, finding your way through the woods in the dark.”
I shrugged in a way that I hoped seemed cavalier. “Piece of cake. What do I look like, some kind of city slicker?”
“Not a bit.” His gaze took me in, and I knew he didn’t see the old me. He saw the woman who had stared back at me from the mirror this morning. Just Andrea. The one who’d finally found out what she was capable of, who she was meant to be. A rebel with a cause, a woman with a purpose.
“Besides,” I said, “a guy once told me that all you had to do was listen, and you’d find your way to the water.”
“Smart guy.” He grinned that stupid, playful, crooked grin that I could have looked at forever. The idea sent a warm flush through my body, a sense that everything that had happened had been leading us here.
“Yeah, he is,” I agreed, and then I kissed him. I was uphill, so I didn’t even have to rise onto my tiptoes to do it. For once, my feet were firmly planted on the ground, firmly in my own life, and Mart was there, too, and I knew that was as it should be. I’d finally found my way – to him, to the future, beyond all that was unplanned and painful. Beyond fear, and regret, and shame, and bitterness, to a place in which I could let it all go and just be.
In the stillness was a voice, soft like the mourning dove, yet persistent like the endless refrains of the mockingbird. It beckoned me with its sweetness, warmed my soul, comforted my heart, promised that even when I’d been the loneliest, in the deepest despair, even when I thought I was lost in the darkness, I was never really alone. God had been there, even when I could not see Him, even when I could not hear His call, even when I denied His presence. He had been there in the wilderness, as He is in all places. I had only to be still, and listen, and let Him lead me home.
God prepares a banquet
in the lakes and the rivers and the forests.
Then He waits for us
to come to His table.
– Anonymous
(Left by a visitor who came and went unseen)
Mart McClendon
There’s something about Moses Lake that changes people. It’s anybody’s guess as to why that is, but I think that’s what my mama was hoping for when we came here all those years ago. She was hoping my daddy would change. He might’ve, but he packed us up and left before the place could work on him. Before the Good Lord could use it that way.
For folks who stay a little longer, the hills, and the draws, and the water, and the people piece together like an old quilt, wrapping around, comfortable and warm. Safe. There’s no mystery to it after a while. You just know you’re in the right place. You feel it deep in your soul.
Even little Birdie could sense it – that assurance that everything would be all right. You could see it in her face when she ran out the doors of that old stone church, the ribbon streamers of a little kite she’d decorated in Sunday school twirling behind her. Bolting downhill toward the water, she followed Sydney and Ansley’s lead, all three of them laughing, holding their kites overhead, letting out the string a little, so that the streamers wobbled and dove.
Len hollered after her, “Ubb-Birdie, uww-watch out fer the uww-water!”
Beside him, Sheila glanced up and added, “Not too close now, girls!” With Sheila in his business, Len sure wouldn’t have much chance to disappoint Social Services. She’d make sure all the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed, and she’d elected herself construction foreman for the volunteer work at Len’s house, too. She had Len and the docksiders working so hard it was cutting into their fishing time, but so far nobody’d had the guts to complain. Today she’d even gotten Len all cleaned up and into a suit jacket with his old jeans. He glanced over his shoulder and shucked the jacket off on his way down the hill to the picnic tables, where the ladies were putting out dinner on the grounds. Normally, Sheila would’ve been in the middle of that, too, but at the moment, she was busy talking tofu, bean sprouts, and weight loss with Andrea’s boss, Mr. Tazinski, and their office secretary, Bonnie. That wasn’t much of a way to treat visitors, but Tazinski didn’t seem to mind. Bonnie looked like she had her mind on sneaking peeks at Reverend Hay. I had a feeling he’d had more than just a friendly interest when he’d told Andrea to invite her co-workers to the dinner on the grounds that’d been postponed two weeks ago after the wild night in the woods. It felt good to have everyone here together – like all was right with the world.
From down by the tables, Andrea smiled at me and held up a chocolate pie she was pretending she’d baked. I knew that pie came out of the case at Catfish Charley’s, because I’d driven her over there last night to meet her family for supper. But the secret about the pie was safe enough with me. Dustin was another story, though. He was still looking for a way to talk his mama into letting him take Cassandra out on a date, and that little bit of information about the pie might be just the leverage he needed. He was with us when that pie was bought, too. That dinner with the family had been a big step, but it was a good step. A good night for all of us. Nothing says getting-to-know-you like eating with a hundred-pound catfish looking over your shoulder.
It looked like Dustin hadn’t gone completely teenage Romeo, though.When he caught sight of the girls trying to fly their kites, he left Cassandra behind and loped off down the hill to get in on the action. Before long, he had Sydney and Ansley’s kites in the air and was trying to convince Birdie to give hers over, so he could launch it for her. Birdie shook her head and hung on tight while Len did his best to explain how the kite was supposed to function. Birdie didn’t look like she believed him. She’d worked hard on that kite, and she didn’t want to let it go.
Watching them reminded me of something my grandfather had said a long time ago when he took four little boys out to the hayfield with four new dime-store kites. He caught me keeping mine low – just letting it float up a few feet and then pulling it back, so it wouldn’t get loose or tangle in a tree. He came across the field and knelt down next to me and said something I’d carried with me all my life but never taken to heart until I stood there watching Birdie, her blue eyes wide as she finally let go of her kite.
“A kite is like a man’s life,” my granddad had said as I weighed the choice between letting that kite soar and holding it down. “No matter how much he tries, he can’t make it more than a piece of paper and a ball of twine, on his own. He’s got to give it over to something bigger, let the Good Lord breathe into it. After that, he just has to do two things – turn his eyes toward heaven and keep hold of the string.”
As the little town of Moses Lake, Texas, opens its doors for visitors, I’d like to thank a few people who joined this beach party early. As with every book,
Larkspur Cove
would never have come into being without the help of old friends, new friends, and kind strangers.Thank you first of all to Mike for tirelessly answering questions about all things related to the fascinating careers of state game wardens and for lending expertise to Mart’s career. Thank you to Vickie for answering questions pertaining to Andrea’s work as an LPC. Thanks to my favorite Wingate fisher-boys for answering fishing questions and lending funny fishing phrases to the wall of wisdom at the Waterbird Bait and Grocery. The docksiders wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun without you.
My gratitude goes out to my family for tireless support. Thank you to my mother for editing, talking over stories, and for being a wonderful traveling companion. Thank you to my sweet mother-in-law for helping with address lists and feeding my boys on deadline days, when there’s nothing at home that’s nearly as exciting as Nanny’s cooking. Thanks also to relatives and friends far and near for encouraging, supporting, hosting us on book trips, sharing stories, and deciding that books make perfect Christmas gifts. I’m incredibly grateful to Teresa Loman for heading up the Facebook reader’s group and being an incredibly fun gal pal, and to Ed Stevens for constant encouragement and help with all things technical. How blessed I am to have such wonderful friends! Thanks also to my friends and fellow Southern gal bloggers at
www.SouthernBelleView.com
: authors Marybeth Whalen, Rachel Hauck, Jenny B. Jones, and Beth Webb Hart. What a hoot to be sharing a cyber-porch with you and blogging about all things Southern!
On the publishing end, my undying gratitude and heartfelt high-fives go to the incredible group at Bethany House Publishers.To Dave Long and Julie Klassen, thank you for being everything a writer could hope for in editors. Thanks for your guidance, astute suggestions, and encouragement, and for helping Moses Lake come to life. To the crew in marketing, publicity, and art – I so admire the awesome job you do in bringing the books to the shelves. To my agent, Claudia Cross at Sterling Lord Literistic, thanks again for all you do.
Last, but not least, gratitude beyond measure goes out to reader friends far and near, without whom I’d just be . . . well . . . some crazy lady tapping away on a computer and talking to myself. Thank you for sharing the books with friends, recommending them to book clubs, and taking time to send little notes of encouragement my way via e-mail and Facebook. Imaginary friends are great, but the real kind are ever so much better. They come with stories of their own, for one thing. Thank you, all of you, for being a blessing, a joy, and a treasure.
I hope you find a few treasures of your own in Moses Lake, and that this story returns the joy and the blessings in some small measure.
1. Moses Lake is a favorite vacation spot for many. Do you have a favorite vacation spot? A favorite vacation memory?
2. In the beginning of the story, Andrea feels hopeless about the turn her life has taken. Have you ever felt as if a closed door in your life was the end of everything good, only to find out that something new and amazing was right around the corner?
3. Andrea worries that because her life and her marriage have fallen apart, her son might never again be happy and healthy. How do traumatic family events in our childhoods shape us, strengthen us, or change the way we look at the world?
4. Mart has moved to the lake in an effort to leave behind the pain of his brother’s death. Have you ever returned to a treasured childhood place in a moment of personal tragedy? In what ways do the places that harbor happy memories comfort us?
5. Andrea feels that because she has lost faith in God, God has lost faith in her. What is your opinion on this? What would you tell her?
6. Even though Birdie has clearly experienced trauma, and Len is in many ways unprepared to take care of her, Andrea and Mart elect to leave her with Len and try to improve Len’s ability to parent her. What are the benefits of their plan? Risks? Do you agree with the plan or not?
7. In order for Len to succeed, the help of the community will clearly be needed. How can strong communities help members struggling through difficult situations? Has your community ever helped you in a time of need?
8. Even as adults, Andrea and Megan struggle with the aftereffects of strong sibling rivalry. How do old rivalries affect our adult relationships with siblings? Can we ever leave the past behind and be as gracious with siblings as we are with friends and acquaintances? How can we accomplish this?
9. Though both of their children are grown and are raising children of their own, Andrea’s parents have a difficult time letting go and allowing their girls to be independent adults. Have you ever struggled with an interloping parent? Have you ever been tempted to interlope? Are we always parents to our children, no matter how old they are? How do we set boundaries?
10. Andrea realizes her bitterness toward her ex-husband and members of her former church has helped to separate her son from his faith, causing him to be even more alone in the world. How do our parents’ beliefs affect us? Have you seen or experienced situations in which a parent’s lack of faith affects a child?
11. In her new job, Andrea finally feels a sense of purpose and of finding herself. Have you ever found yourself blooming in an unexpected time or place? In what way? Do you have a dream that hasn’t yet been realized? What it is?
Lisa Wingate is a popular inspirational speaker, magazine columnist, and national bestselling author of several books, including
Tending
Roses,Talk of the Town, Good Hope Road, Drenched in Light,
and
A
Thousand Voices
. Her work was recently honored by the Americans for More Civility for promoting greater kindness and civility in American life. Lisa and her family live in Clifton, Texas.
