Uncharted (14 page)

A smile gathered up the deep wrinkles by John’s mouth. “I think I remember reading about him. That bird made all the papers.”

Karyn laughed. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t make the news too—she would have if she’d had her way. She gave the headmaster a sob story about how the bird and his mate had been circling the street and trying to rebuild their nest by dropping twigs onto a platform that no longer existed.” She shook her head. “Sarah was marching with the protesters in front of the building. In her mind, she wasn’t skipping school; she was making the world a safer place for all living things.”

“As you can imagine,” Kevin said, looking around, “the girl is quite an actress. She comes by it naturally.”

Laughter rippled around the circle, but Karyn saw a shade of ruefulness shadow John’s smile.

He probably regretted the group’s breakup—and why wouldn’t he? As freshmen they had come together out of mutual need and stayed together because John wouldn’t let them drift apart. The college years were a series of crossroads, he often told them, and young adults needed the stability of constant friends to keep them on a straight course.

In a very real sense, the people in this circle had grown up together. During those formative collegiate years, they had shared hopes and dreams, loves and losses.

Only after the group disbanded had she and Kevin lost their way. And now, after twenty years, the group had experienced their first brush with mortality.

She blinked wetness from her eyes while Kevin kept talking about Sarah. The man had his faults, but he did love their daughter.

In college, they’d dreamed of creating a life together. They’d ended their marriage, yet Karyn was grateful they were still committed to their child.

“She’s a beautiful young lady,” Kevin said, “and quite possibly the best thing in my life.”

Karyn blinked in surprise when his voice cracked—hard to believe he would allow himself to appear sentimental in public, but the people in this room knew him like no one else did.

If they couldn’t be honest with each other, they couldn’t be honest with anyone.

19

Karyn lifted her head as Julia called the group into the dining room, where the table had been set with china, silver, and linen napkins. They took their seats, allowing David’s widow to preside at one end of the table while John Watson occupied the other. The other guests had gone home, and Nicholas had retreated upstairs with his nanny.

The mood in the room was relaxed and warm, the calm after a sudden storm. Karyn wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving these people . . . not yet.

The conversation centered on memories of John’s inspirational pep talks and adventures in bookselling. While laughing at one of Lisa’s quips, Karyn caught a glimpse of her reflection in the buffet mirror and was surprised to see a blush on her face. She hadn’t blushed in years, but this bittersweet reunion had sent younger blood rushing through her veins.

After a housekeeper brought in dessert, Julia tapped the delicate rim of her goblet. “Earlier today I told some of you that I have a proposition for your group.” She paused to clear her throat. “Maybe I should let John explain.”

She stopped, her eyes filling with tears, and Karyn instinctively reached out to grip her hand. Julia had been a pillar of strength throughout the day, but she’d begun to crumble in the warmth of this circle.

Karyn squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. You’re among friends.”

Julia sniffed and gave her a watery smile, then shifted her gaze to John, who rose at the opposite end of the table.

“As you know,” he said, speaking in the booming voice with which he addressed them twenty years ago, “each spring, David dedicated one of his vacation weeks to a project intended for the benefit of others. He derived great pleasure from this work, and he believed these were among the best weeks of his life. Several times he mentioned writing each of you in the hope you’d be able to join him in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Karyn looked at her hands as a vise of guilt gripped her heart. The others had to feel it too.

“This year,” John continued, “David planned to go to Kwajalein, one of the Marshall Islands. There’s a military base on that island, but no Christian school, and David wanted to provide that option for the children of military families. Together with some local supporters, he raised enough money to buy the supplies we’ll need to build a small school. The materials have already been shipped to Kwajalein. All we need to complete David’s vision is a volunteer labor force.”

Karyn frowned as the vise of guilt tightened, but how could she drop everything and travel to a place she couldn’t pronounce, let alone spell? Daytime drama required committed actors, and she’d already asked for special consideration so she could audition for the television pilot. She couldn’t take a week off for bonding with old friends and another week for bonding with her new cast members. The scriptwriters for
A Thousand Tomorrows
would have a fit.

If she wasn’t careful, they’d arrange for Lorinda Loving to be abducted by flesh-eating aliens.

“Hang on a minute,” Mark interrupted. “Where
are
these Marshall Islands? I’ve never heard of ’em.”

“About halfway between the Philippines and Hawaii,” John said. “North of New Zealand, northeast of Australia.”

Susan laughed softly. “That doesn’t help me. I’m terrible with geography.”

John rapped the table with his bony knuckles. “You don’t have to know where the islands are. It was enough for David to know that a need existed. When I knew you all twenty years ago, you were as committed to helping others as David was. You sold a book that has been used to transform hundreds of people’s lives. Now”—he looked around the circle—“I’m not going to put you on the spot, but I’d be thrilled if you can go with me to the Islands. I don’t want an answer tonight. I want you to go back to your homes and pray about what to do. If you can join me, we’ll meet next Tuesday morning at 9:00 a.m. Pacific time, LAX, gate A-35. It’ll take two days to get to Kwajalein and at least two days to erect the school. If you take a week off, you’ll have a day left for sharing memories and relaxing in the sun. It ought to be a good time for all.”

Karyn peeked at her friends. Like her, most of them lowered their eyes as John presented his challenge; like her, most of them would be reluctant to sign on. None of them could accept David’s invitation last week, so why did John think they would change their minds now?

“That’s it.” John slipped his hand into his coat pocket. “If you can get away, I think you’ll enjoy the experience. I hope you’ll come.”

He sat down, and for a long moment no one spoke. Julia Lawson broke the silence: “I hope the Black Forest cake is to everyone’s liking. It was David’s favorite dessert.”

Prodded by the sharp spur of guilt, Karyn lifted her fork and sliced off a neat bite of a food she could never eat in New York.

Actresses who indulged in Black Forest cake might soon find themselves doing nothing but commercials for diet products.

Delighted to reach the Mercedes first, Susan slid into the backseat and pulled her purse onto her lap. Lisa halted on the sidewalk, her eyes flashing with irritation as Mark opened the passenger door and waved her into the front seat. Since Lisa and Susan had the earliest return flights, Mark had volunteered to take them to the airport.

Susan smothered a smile. Earlier, Lisa had caught her in the kitchen and complained that Mark was being a little
too
friendly.

Susan gasped. “He came on to you at a
funeral
?”

“Well,” Lisa hedged, “maybe it wasn’t an official come-on, but it sure felt like one. It’s like he thinks he can waltz in here and pick up where we—where
he
—left off. Honestly, he seems to think I’m still his girlfriend.” She shook her head. “I think Mark only remembers what he wants to remember. He acts like he’s still a big man on campus.”

“Was he ever?” Susan asked.

Lisa giggled. “In his own mind, sure.”

Susan rolled her eyes as Mark revved the Mercedes’ engine. “Listen to that.” He shot a glance at Lisa. “Three hundred horses under the hood, V-8 engine, top of the line. This model is
classic
, baby.”

Lisa looked out the window. “How nice.”

Susan thought a scowl crossed Mark’s face, but from her vantage point, she couldn’t be sure. Better change the subject, or it was going to get chilly in the front seat.

“Hey.” She leaned forward as Mark pulled away from the curb. “What did you two think of John’s proposal? I didn’t see that one coming.”

Lisa turned in her seat. “Are you thinking about going?”

“To a primitive island?” Susan grimaced. “I can’t think of any place I’d hate more.”

“Same here,” Lisa said, but her voice lacked its usual conviction. “Still . . . I do feel terrible about turning David down. And John’s an old man; there’s no way he can build a school by himself.”

“He’s sixty-nine,” Mark said. “I asked. And he said he has some local folks to help him.”

Lisa ignored the comment. “I would have gone with David, but I can’t leave my parents.”

“Who’s with them now?”

“A home health-care worker.” Lisa frowned. “I hired her to stay a couple of nights, since I won’t be home until morning.”

Mark drummed the steering wheel with his index fingers, then slapped an imaginary rim shot. “You could always hire a nurse for the week. Maybe you need a break. Maybe we all do.”

Lisa stared at him. “Don’t tell me
you’re
going.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think I can. Those fools I call employees will rob me blind if I don’t keep an eye on them. The cat’s away, the mice will play . . .”

“Well then.” Lisa shrugged. “You understand what I mean—it’s hard to get away.” She settled back in her seat, propping an elbow on the door as she looked out the tinted glass.

Susan turned toward the window, too, but she wasn’t watching the landscape. She kept seeing David on the edge of a cliff, his white shirt flapping in the wind as he lifted a slender blue book.

She’d tried to ask what he was doing, but the wind had whipped her words away.

After casting her a brief look of helpless appeal, David had walked toward the precipice. Susan screamed out his name, warning him of the danger, but David strode forward, his hand curled firmly around the book. An instant before reaching the edge, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed something she couldn’t hear.

Then he stepped into space.

Susan’s heart went into sudden shock, but David walked forward on nothing but air. He moved resolutely, a purposeful intent in his step, and she crept closer to the edge, determined to watch until he reached the opposite side.

She didn’t know how wide the chasm was—maybe fifty yards—but David proceeded until he reached the opposite cliff, then he turned and looked at her. She could barely see his face, but distance could not diminish the powerful pull of his personality, the force of his conviction.

He had always been the leader of their group. And he wanted her to follow.

She stepped to the edge of the chasm and shivered as the tips of her sandals sent a spray of scree into the gorge below. The sight of those falling pebbles sent a bead of perspiration racing from her armpit to her rib. She inhaled a deep breath . . . and whirled away, coughing on the dust kicked up by her hasty retreat.

David might be able to walk on air, but she couldn’t. She had never been as strong as he thought she was. Coming from a family rich in courageous and beloved women, he had learned to associate strength with love and love with beauty.

Susan never found the courage to correct his assumptions. She had relished his admiration and toyed with his affection. But she could not bring herself to tell him that in her case, strength and beauty weren’t even acquainted.

Had the dream meant something? Was she supposed to go to the Marshall Islands with John?

She closed her eyes as her heart began to pound in her chest. The humiliation of standing before Julia Lawson must not have been enough to atone for her sin. Her penance would also include endless guilt, uncertainty . . . and an unexpected journey.