Pearl of Great Price (26 page)

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Authors: Myra Johnson

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Mystery & Suspense, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christian, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Religion & Spirituality, #Christian Fiction

BOOK: Pearl of Great Price
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But after three years of fertility treatments and as many miscarriages, Renata’s OB/GYN advised them to stop trying. Heartbroken, she lapsed into a deep depression, worsened by the discovery that Larry had been sleeping with his secretary. He claimed the “clinical sex” he and Renata had been having in an effort to conceive had destroyed whatever love he may have once felt for her.

Desperate to keep her marriage intact, she convinced Larry to consider adoption, but when they began the process, Renata learned they’d both have to undergo a psychological evaluation. During one of her interviews, while the counselor stepped away for more coffee, Renata had stolen a glance at his notes. The words
narcissistic tendencies
and
possible bipolar disorder
jumped out at her. God, no, it couldn’t be true—she’d inherited her mother’s sickness!

Then the final report had come back declaring them unsuitable as adoptive parents and strongly urging Renata to consult a psychiatrist. Neither Larry’s money nor a new prescription regimen could repair the damage already done to their marriage, and two weeks later Larry moved out of Renata’s bedroom for good. If Renata’s mother weren’t already dead, Renata would have strangled her on the spot. Leave it to Mama to ruin Renata’s life even from the grave!

Well. She’d show Mama
and
Larry. Publicly, she immersed herself in fundraisers for children’s advocacy groups, support centers for unwed mothers, various adoption and foster-care agencies, and eventually established the Channing Children’s Foundation.

Privately, she vowed Lawrence Eugene Channing would never hurt her again.

Sipping her rapidly cooling café au lait, Renata closed her eyes against the sight of the man she had grown to detest. She could never leave him, of course, nor he her. His wealth made possible everything she did for the less fortunate women and children her foundation assisted—not to mention securing her enviable reputation among Arkansas society. And were he ever to ask for a divorce, she’d only have to remind him of several incriminating photos locked away in her safe-deposit box.

Ah, Nadine, I suppose I should thank you for luring my husband into your bed. You weren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last.

Unfortunately, the gossip had already filtered back to her about his infidelity with her personal assistant, and Renata had her reputation to protect, after all. Time to end Larry’s latest flirtation and introduce a new player into the mix.

Larry tossed his napkin onto his syrup-smeared plate. With an icy glower, he rose and strode from the room. A moment later, Renata reached for the manila envelope tucked beneath the corner of her lace-edged placemat. She pulled out the stack of résumés she’d collected and once more perused the one she had found most intriguing.

“Felicia Beaufort.” She fingered the attached photo of the attractive blonde, a well-educated woman in her late twenties. “Yes, I think you’re the one.”

And once again she wished something
had
happened between her and Micah. Why should Larry have all the fun?

 

C
HAPTER 30

Present Day

“Thanks, Miss Hart.” I handed my former sixth-grade English teacher a heavy paper bag containing her latest purchase of used books from Herman Trapp’s Paperback Place. “I’ll remind Herman to give you a call when he locates that Nicholas Sparks novel you’re looking for.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Julie Pearl.” The prim, bespectacled woman reached across the counter to tweak my chin. Continuing in a stage whisper, she said, “But, honey, I thought you’d gone off to the big city to meet a nice young man.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And who told you that, Miss Hart?”

“Well, talk around town and all . . .” She cast a furtive glance in both directions, then leaned closer. “Pickin’s are pretty slim in a small town like Caddo Pines. Why else do you think I ended up a crotchety old spinster?”

“What?” I slapped a hand to my chest and barely suppressed a knowing grin. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but rumor has it you and LeRoy Tuttle have been seen—what’s the word?—
spooning
on the Hot Springs Promenade.”

Reddening, Miss Hart drew herself up to her full five feet. She clutched the bag of paperbacks to her bosom. “Humph, Katy Harcourt’s the only one coulda let
that
cat out of the bag. Ooooh, you just let me get a-hold of that gossiping old biddy.”

I winked and nodded across the way toward Katy’s Vintage Shoes & Bags. “I do believe she’s working her booth today. Why don’t you mosey on over and say hello?”

As she tromped off to give Katy a piece of her mind, Grandpa joined me behind the counter. “You stirring up trouble already, young lady?”

Hooking my arm through his, I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Gotta do something to keep from wondering when Renata will show up.” I glanced at my watch—the plain gold Timex Grandpa had given me for my high-school graduation and another of my favorite treasures. “Or I guess I should say,
if
Renata shows up. It’s after four-thirty already.”

“Still think it was a crazy idea, expecting the woman to give up her high-falutin’ ways and come live in a flea market.” He popped open the cash drawer and exchanged several one-dollar bills for quarters. “Clifton’s about out of change at the snack bar.”

I turned to watch Clifton hand a customer a hot dog and a Coke. “He seems to like working here. I’m glad.”

“Always was a good kid. Right honorable of him stayin’ at home to help his mama.” Grandpa planted a kiss on my forehead before returning to the snack bar.

I knew there was no dig intended about my recent departure from Caddo Pines. It just felt so good to be home and to see Grandpa smiling again.

The brass bells clanged as the front door opened. Just like I’d done all afternoon, I jumped, hoping and dreading it might be Renata. Another false alarm. Sandy flounced into the Swap & Shop. Sliding her sunglasses up over her dense brown bangs, she paused to glance around.

Catching my eye, she smiled and waved. “Hey, Jules, how’s it going?”

I waved back. “Couldn’t be better. I was—”

Clifton’s baritone rang out. “Hey, beautiful, you’re early. I still gotta shut down the snack bar and clean up.”

Sandy glanced at me with a sheepish grin. “No hurry. I’ll visit with Julie for a few minutes.”

I winked at Sandy. “Sounds like you two are back on solid ground.”

A steamy blush rose up her neck and into her cheeks. “Clifton’s like a new guy since he started working for your grandpa. He’s matured, more settled somehow.” Her gaze drifted in Clifton’s direction. “All he needed was—”

“Someone to believe in him,” I finished in a hushed voice.

She looked back at me, her eyebrows twisting into sideways question marks. “It’s no secret I’ve been falling in love with Clifton since we were sophomores at Caddo Mountain Consolidated High, but it’s only been in the past couple of weeks that I could actually see myself married to the guy.”

My heart did a little flutter dance of happiness for her. Plus a teensy bit of surprise. “Seriously? Has he proposed?”

“Not officially. But I’ve started dropping hints that I sure might be open to the idea.”

Sandy and Clifton. My, oh, my.

And I understood my grandpa a little bit better just then. Otto Stiles, the man who turned trash into treasure, the man who valued the valueless. The man who taught me everything I knew about life and love and hope. Why did I ever think the answers to my questions could be found anywhere but right here at the Swap & Shop?

~~~

We’d long since closed up shop, and Grandpa and I were watching
Masterpiece Mystery!
on the PBS channel, an “Inspector Lewis” rerun. With Sneezy curled up on my lap and Brynna snoozing with the pups in her box beside the sofa, I tried to follow the plot while quietly wondering what Lewis and Hathaway would make of the mysteries unraveling in my life this summer.

Then the phone rang. I looked at Grandpa and he looked at me, but neither of us made a move to answer it.

“Come on now, Julie Pearl, you know it’s prob’ly her.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not in the mood to listen to her excuses. Let the answering machine pick up.” Nose in the air, I pretended to be engrossed in the program.

Grandpa watched me for a moment, then sighed and mimicked my posture.

The phone kept ringing until the machine clicked on, and Grandpa’s recorded voice announced,
“Howdy, you’ve reached Otto Stiles’ Swap & Shop, open Thursday through Monday. We’re closed now, but you can sure leave us a message, and we’ll be right happy to return your call.”

After the beep came Renata’s voice. “Oh dear, where are you, Julie? I tried your cell phone, but apparently it’s turned off.”

Oops. It was still in my purse, crammed into the tote I’d brought home from the hospital.

“Anyway, I’ve had a bit of car trouble. I called Triple-A, but the utter
idiot
I spoke with must have been from Upper Berserkistan and I couldn’t understand a word—”

My stomach plummeted. I heaved myself off the sofa and sprinted to the phone. “Renata? I’m here.”

“Thank goodness! It’s getting dark, and I’m afraid I’m hopelessly lost. I know I took the right exit off the Interstate, and I made it to Caddo Pines but my GPS lost the signal and I must have taken a wrong turn in town—I’ve only been to your place that one time, you know—and now I’m out in the middle of nowhere, and your little car started making a strange noise, and I managed to get to the side of the road before it died, but now it won’t start up again and—for heaven’s sake, Julie, why doesn’t this thing have OnStar?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s okay, Renata, don’t panic.” Turning to Grandpa, I mouthed,
The Beetle died.

He pushed off the sofa and shuffled to the kitchen. “We need to go get her? I’ll get my keys.”

“She has no idea where she is.” I tilted the receiver so Grandpa could listen in and then spoke into the phone. “Renata, tell me exactly what kind of noise the car was making before it died.”

“Well, it was kind of a long, whistling whine, and then a rattle and sputter, and then it just quit.”

Good, something simple. Clifton had once shown me an easy fix. “No big deal. Just go around back and pop the hood. You’ll find—”

“Wait! You mean, open up the engine? I can’t do that!”

“Hmmm. Then maybe you’d better stay in the car and wait for somebody to find you.” I winked at Grandpa. “Oh, and keep the windows rolled up. This part of Arkansas is bear country, you know. And I heard talk about a mountain lion stalking the woods around here.”

“Bear?
Mountain lion
? Are you
sure?

Grandpa had to step away and press both hands to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I cleared my throat to mask my own laughter. “I haven’t actually
seen
any bears or mountain lions, but I sure wouldn’t want to be outside alone in the dark on the back roads.”

Short, sharp breaths pulsed in my ear. “Well, it’s not
quite
dark yet. If I were to, um,
try
to fix the engine, how long do you suppose it would take?”

“Oh, just a second or two. I can have you back on the road lickety-split.”

Dead silence. I wondered if we’d been disconnected. Then she burst out, “All right, talk me through it.” The car door slammed.

In my mind’s eye, I pictured the Beetle’s engine parts and tried to remember the exact steps Clifton had shown me. I didn’t know all the technical terms for the car parts, but she wouldn’t have recognized them anyway. We got through it with references like “the orange doohickey” and “the black box with the red cap on top,” and then I had her get back inside and try the key. I breathed a sigh of relief along with her when the VW started right up.

“Oh, and here’s the Triple-A truck. They will
definitely
be hearing from me about their
atrocious
service.” Back to her obnoxiously arrogant self. I didn’t know whether to be glad or scared.

“Good, then they can point you back to town and get you to the Swap & Shop. We’ll have the porch light on at the top of the stairs for you.”

I hung up and fell into the nearest chair like a sack of rotten potatoes. “She’s coming, Grandpa. She’s really, really coming.”

 

C
HAPTER 31

It wasn’t twenty minutes later when I heard the familiar rumble of my little green car. Knowing how Renata felt about dogs, I didn’t see any sense adding to the commotion of her arrival, so I hurried Brynna and the pups into Grandpa’s room and closed the door. I caught up with Grandpa on the landing outside the kitchen door, and we watched Renata park under the oak tree and wrestle her suitcase out of the backseat.

Make that two extra-large suitcases and a bulging wheeled tote.

“Best go down and give her a hand.” Heaving a sigh, Grandpa trudged downstairs.

I reached the bottom step a couple of paces behind him, about the time Renata dragged the tote bag around the front of the car. The yellow glow of the porch light made her look sallow and gaunt. She stared at me with a dazed expression not unlike the look I’d seen in Brynna’s eyes the day I found her half-starved in the rotting old cabin. Noting the black grease marks streaking Renata’s face, arms, and hands, I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

She released the tote handle, and the whole thing toppled over. “I do hope you have hot and cold running water and a bathtub.”

I sent a pleading glance heavenward and shook my head. “This may not be the Ritz-Carlton, but I promise, we won’t make you wash up out back in the rain barrel.”

It took Grandpa and me straining together to manhandle all her luggage to the top of the stairs. Renata headed straight for the bathroom and started filling the tub. While Grandpa and I arranged her suitcases as best we could in the confined space of my tiny bedroom, several loud sighs and groans emanated from behind the closed bathroom door. I think she might have stayed in there all night, but after nearly an hour the hot water must have finally given out.

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