He blinked. She didn’t budge. Words tumbled out of his mouth—he couldn’t stop them. He told her everything, including his fear that Anne might never want to see him again.
She sat very still when his verbal torrent ceased, her dark face not revealing any hint of her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, warmth flooded him. Her soft voice drowned out the storm outside. “ ‘For thus the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, has said, “In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” ’ I’m thinking Isaiah knew what he was talking about when he wrote that. Until you find peace with God, you ain’t gonna have happiness with yourself nor no one else around you.” She stood and smoothed her floral dress over her ample figure. “Now come into the kitchen and have some of my snickerdoodles.”
Who did she think she was coming in here and telling him—exactly what he needed to hear? The words had been given to her by God, and they convicted him to the core of his soul. He had to heal his own scars before he could give his heart to someone else. He picked up the phone and dialed Anne’s cell number. Until he figured his life out, he needed to keep her at arm’s length. She didn’t answer. He left a message canceling their brunch date tomorrow. He would go to her family’s Independence Day celebration in the park. She wouldn’t be there until late, and they’d be buffered by the number of people surrounding them.
The aroma of cinnamon and baked goods rolled over him. He inhaled deeply. How had he not noticed before? He rose and followed the amazing smells downstairs.
Mama Ketty bustled about the kitchen. “You just set down at that bar and don’t move a twitch. Mama Ketty’s gonna put some meat on them bones if it’s the last thing I do.” She placed a plate of cookies and an enormous glass of milk in front of him. “I know you haven’t been eating any of my cooking. How long’s it been since you ate proper?”
When was the last time he’d had a decent meal? Sunday afternoon at Anne’s aunt and uncle’s home. “Awhile.”
She clucked at him again. “Uh-huh. I suspected as much. Sit tight, and you’ll have a meal that’ll stick to your ribs.”
Contentment settled into him along with the milk and cinnamon-dusted cookies while he watched her work. “Mama Ketty, do you believe that everything happens for a reason?”
“Baby, I believe that nothing happens without God knowing about it. And when things do happen, if we turn toward Him, He’ll make the best of the situation, be it good or bad.” She set a plate in front of him. “This here’s a good Louisiana-raised, sugar-cured ham steak, fresh corn on the cob, purple-hulled peas from my son’s garden, tomatoes from there, too.” She turned back to the stove and lifted a small pan. She glopped something akin to porridge onto the plate. “Those are the finest grits in all of Louisiana. They’ll stick with you, too. No one leaves Mama Ketty’s table hungering after they’ve had some of my grits.”
George had heard of the Southern delicacy but hadn’t really thought he’d ever have to eat them. With Mama Ketty’s hawklike gaze on him, though, he didn’t dare leave a morsel of food on the white ceramic plate.
Seasoned with butter, salt, and pepper, the grits melted in his mouth. She’d salted the tomatoes to bring out their full flavor, and butter dripped down his fingers as he bit into the crisp, sweet corn. The ham steak was among the best meat he’d ever put in his mouth.
She took the plate as soon as he laid down his fork. “Now you get on out of here and let me get back to work.” She shoved a small plate of cookies into his hands when he stood. “And take these with you. You children these days, wanting to be skin and bones.” She shook her head and mumbled to herself.
He carried the cookies back up to the office to start over on the spreadsheet. His position as head of the household staff had just become an empty title.
Instead of getting straight to work, he opened the Bible program on the computer and searched for the verse Ketty had quoted. Isaiah 30:15. “In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” He printed the verse, cut it out, and taped it to the bottom of the monitor.
“In quietness and trust is your strength.”
“Father, help me to be quiet and trust You for strength. You know I’m going to need it.”
Chapter 17
“George is acting weird.” Anne tipped her wide-brimmed hat forward to better shield her face from the midmorning sun. She couldn’t show up at the church with a sunburned nose.
“Hmm?” Meredith’s distracted voice came from behind a biography of Claude Monet.
“I said George is acting weird.”
Meredith slipped a bookmark in to keep her place and scooped her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder. “Define weird.”
“Ever since he came to lunch last Sunday, he’s been…acting funny—not like himself, like I’ve said or done something that offended him and he doesn’t know how to tell me.” Once again, she went over everything that had been said and done at Maggie and Errol’s Sunday afternoon, trying to figure out what might have upset him.
“Have you asked him about it?”
“I haven’t had a chance. He’s been avoiding me all week.” Something tickled her ankle, and she jerked her foot out of the inflatable kiddie pool. A leaf from the ancient oak tree overhead careened away on the wake caused by her movement. She put her foot back in the tepid water. As long as it wasn’t a bug.
“Maybe he’s just been busy with getting ready for his boss coming into town for the engagement party next week.” Mere fanned herself with her straw hat. “Jenn better get back soon with that ice. It’s gotta be nearly a hundred degrees out here. But at least it’s not raining like last year.”
“He didn’t come to Thursday dinner last night and canceled brunch with me today.”
“Do you think maybe someone said something to him when you weren’t around Sunday? Something that scared him off?”
“Are you kidding me? With as much as the whole family wants to see me married?” Anne paused. “Maybe that’s what frightened him. Maybe they tried to pressure him into making a commitment.”
“Or he could’ve overheard you telling Marci about Cliff, and he’s scared he can’t compete with a movie star.”
“Bite your tongue!” Anne splashed water toward Meredith with her foot. “I can’t stand Cliff Ballantine. He’s nothing compared to George. He’s nowhere near as kind, considerate, funny, caring, compassionate, generous—”
“Okay, okay,” Meredith splashed back. “I get the picture. Sheesh. All George needs is a dragon to slay to ensure his sainthood.”
Anne smiled, but it faded quickly. “I hate Cliff Ballantine. If it weren’t for him, I never would have dropped out of school. I’d be Dr. Anne Hawthorne now, teaching English at some fantastic, quaint little four-year college, redbrick buildings covered with ivy….”
“Yeah…” Meredith’s voice had the same dreamy quality Anne’s had taken on. “Instead, you have your own business, you’re a leader in the community, you love what you do.” She leaned across the low table between them and poked Anne’s arm. “ ‘God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love Him.’ God has blessed you, Annie.”
“Did someone send for ice?”
An avalanche cascaded over their shoulders and into the shallow water.
Meredith yelped and yanked her feet out of the pool. Anne laughed and kicked hers to mix the ice in with the warm water.
“That was a twenty-pound bag.” Jenn flopped into the third chair, breathless. “And the only one Bordelon’s Grocery had left. I’ll take the coolers out to the restaurant and fill them from the ice machine there for tonight.” She kicked off her sandals and dunked her feet into the cooling water. “You know, if our landlady would get the real swimming pool fixed, we could be floating around on inflatables instead of sitting around a wader like three rednecks.”