Find Wonder in All Things

chapter 14

Over the next few days, Laurel and James were often in each other’s company. The culmination of the week found them all on the Pendleton family houseboat cruising around the lake to dock at the state park picnic grounds for a cookout. Laurel had staked out a spot on the roof where the wind could drown out the sound of girlish laughter and James’s easy-going speech below. He was charming the pants off the Pendleton girls — well, Laurel hoped not literally for their sakes. What would happen to sisterly affection if he showed an interest in one of them over the other or, heaven forbid, both of them at the same time? Laurel clung to the little bit of resentment that thought produced. It would do her no good to let herself become enamored of James again. She was a great believer in karma and timing, and her time — her chance for a future with James Marshall — had come and gone.

As if summoned by her thoughts, James’s head popped over the edge of the roof. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the Ray-Ban Aviators he wore, but he stopped and his body stiffened.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was up here.”

She started to reply, but he cut her off.

“I was just looking for a quiet place to read. I’ll go somewhere else though.” And then, he disappeared down the ladder.

It was obvious he was avoiding her. What she didn’t know was why. He couldn’t still be angry after all that time, so it must be indifference. Maybe it was just too awkward to socialize with an old flame. Maybe he was congratulating himself on escaping and not tying himself down. After all, his life apparently turned out better without her, just as she predicted. Would he ever have gone to California if she had been with him? Would he ever have gone back to school or had the time to start EMP? Now he probably saw what he’d gained by going on alone.

Seeing him in person confirmed what she’d presumed after reading about him. He had become a fascinating, amazing guy. It was to his credit that he’d managed to pull himself up from nothing. A self-made man like him was a rarity in that day and age. No, Laurel, she berated herself, stop thinking about how much you admire him; you’re supposed to be indifferent to him — the way he’s indifferent to you.

They arrived at the picnic grounds in the late afternoon. Stuart and Laurel built a fire while the rest of the party carried coolers of food off the boat and over to the picnic table. James volunteered to start the charcoal grill, and Ginny arranged chairs around the campfire.

“I’m glad they have the grill here,” James said as he lit the coals. “I wouldn’t want to try cooking on the open fire pit.”

Laurel smiled. “I’ve done it both ways. The grill’s much easier though.” She fished a beer out of the cooler and headed over to the fire to tend the flames.

“Sit here, James.” Carrie patted the chair between her and Heather. “We want to ask you about earthquakes in California.” He grinned smugly and plopped down while Laurel smirked into her beer.

That was a little lame, Carrie.

It seemed the sisters were trying to outdo each other for James’s attention. She took a chair beside Ginny and Stu and stretched her long legs out in front of her. James’s comment the other night had stung a bit, so she had dressed a little younger in cut-off jeans and a tank top, and she’d painted her toenails a dark red that clashed with her hair — just to be rebellious.

James sat between the two girls, grinning like the Cheshire cat, and Laurel couldn’t blame him for being flattered by the attention. Although he had matured into a very handsome man, he had spent most of his youth in the shadow of Stuart, who was worldly, charming, and rich by middle-class standards. James had always had his own brand of charm, but he’d never garnered the level of female interest that Stu did with his Ken-doll looks and his sports car.

He was trying to explain the Richter scale to the girls, when Stuart finally had enough of their foolishness and interrupted.

“So, what are your plans now, James? Are you going to continue working on the EMP now that it’s been bought out?”

James took a sip of beer and set it on his knee, staring into the fire for a second before he answered.

“No, the EMP project is over for me. Belenos Music & Media bought it, and they can do what they want with it. I suspect what they want is to shelve it. I can’t develop any competing software for five years at least, so most companies aren’t interested in hiring me. I’m at a crossroads I guess. My friend Eric seems to think it’s time for me to settle down . . . ” The thought trailed off awkwardly, and James let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I might go back to playing music for a while or designing some other type of software. I don’t know.”

“Laurel said you were a professional guitarist in Nashville.”

“Miss Elliot exaggerates my talent,” he said in a formal manner. “It would be more accurate to say I was a factory worker who played around on the guitar on nights and weekends.”

“But you brought your guitar with you, right? Will you play for us a little later?”

He shrugged. “If you want. Do any of you play? Or sing?”

“Laurel does both,” Carrie piped up. “She sings at her dad’s restaurant sometimes and plays the acoustic guitar.”

Laurel’s eyes went wide. “Just accompaniment chords — nothing spectacular.”

“It was spectacular enough for Brian Fisher.” Heather waggled her eyebrows.

That brought an instant blush to Laurel’s cheeks. “Heather Pendleton! You stop right there . . . ”

James looked at her but aimed his reply at Heather. “Do tell, Heather. This sounds interesting.”

“Crosby let it slip, but then he said we had to ask Laurel for the scoop.”

“Big-mouth Crosby,” Laurel muttered.

Carrie laughed. “Yeah, big-mouth Crosby. So, Laurel, what’s the scoop with Brian Fisher?”

Heather’s eyes opened wide, and she sat up on the edge of her seat. “I think I remember that guy! He’s a real Grizzly Adams type — beard, flannel shirts, the whole bit, right?” She slumped back against her chair. “He’s sort of cute in that blue-collar way.”

“Yeah,” Carrie joined in. “He’s a carpenter, a man who’ll build you a cupboard or fix your leaky roof.”

“He must have been enchanted with your famous rendition of ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone.’”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “I was trying to help my dad drum up some business for the marina. Other people sang too. And that’s Dad’s favorite song.”

“Well, I guess it was Brian’s favorite song after that,” Heather teased. “Did he wait around after the performance to get your digits?”

“There are advantages to not having a phone,” Laurel quipped.

“You still don’t have a phone?” James asked, incredulous.

“Did you give him the dreaded ‘let’s be friends’ speech?” Heather asked. “Or did Crosby and Dylan have to run him off?”

James was smiling, but tension rolled off him.

“He’s married to someone else now, and that’s the end of it,” Laurel insisted.

“I guess he just decided it was time to settle down, kind of like your friend Eric said.” Heather shot him a winning smile.

James looked embarrassed, and Laurel was mortified at the direction the conversation had taken.

“Think I’ll go see if the coals are ready,” she volunteered, and she was off like a shot.

James watched her go. “Shouldn’t we go help?” he asked the sisters.

“Oh, Laurel always cooks when we grill out. She’s good at it, and she doesn’t mind at all.”

James said nothing, but a quick look behind her told Laurel he was surveying her backside, she hoped in appreciation. She swatted a mosquito off her calf, relieved that her shorts did something more for her figure than the hippy-girl skirt she’d worn the other night. It made her feel better to see that at least he noticed her a tiny bit.

She set the burgers on the grill, grabbed another beer, and rejoined the crowd around the fire. Thankfully, the conversation had shifted. Stuart, Virginia and James were deep in a discussion about software to run billing for medical and dental practices. The Pendleton sisters set out the condiments, chips and fruit salad.

Laurel checked her grill a couple more times. After several minutes, a swirl of charcoal-scented smoke clouded around her head, and she waved it aside with her spatula. “Burgers are ready,” she announced.

The crew crowded around, filling their plates and grabbing drinks. Heather and Carrie sat down amid an intense conversation about whether stilettos were better than platforms. James approached the grill and held out his plate.

“Worcester or no Worcester?” she asked, transferring the last burgers onto the serving plate.

“Worcester, thanks.” His voice was soft and low, and ran down the length of her spine and legs and out her toes. She took his plate and put a burger on it, and when he took it back, his hand brushed hers. She felt a little jolt, and against her will, she looked up. There was confusion in his eyes, and he shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

He gave her a shadow of a lop-sided smile and damned if she wasn’t in love with him all over again.

June was going to be a long month.