“Oh?” Kathy glanced from the work area to Greg and back. “I thought she was going to help you.”
“Me too.” He sighed. “Guess not.”
Kathy looked at him for long, slow seconds, the kind of look that took great measure. She withdrew her keys and came around the desk, then paused in front of him. “She’s falling for you, Greg.”
He grimaced, because he thought that too, right before she disappeared. “Strange way of showing it.”
“Or maybe she’s uncertain where she fits into your busy life.”
Greg shrugged that off. “Everyone’s busy. In their own way.”
“But most of us take time for life in the middle of the busy.” The seriousness of Kathy’s expression deepened. “You’ve worked so long and hard that you don’t see the difference, probably because you’re surrounded by people doing the exact same thing. It feels right because you’re in the thick of it. But we normal folk like a day off now and again. And time with those we love.”
Remorse spiked his heart. “You’re talking about Mom.”
She didn’t deny the implication. “She loved you more than anything. And she was so proud of you, of your strength, your spirit, your accomplishments. But it’s a kick in the head when you have to make an appointment to see your own son.”
The regret pierced deeper, because Kathy wasn’t far off the mark. “Did she hate me? For being a self-absorbed jerk like my father?”
“Oh, please.” Kathy made a face of disbelief. “Your father was a two-timing belt-notcher. He cheated on three wives that I know of. Your ambition to do your best comes straight from your mother, Greg, because you actually care about the outcome. But if you want the fullness of life she had, it’s time to take a breath and think hard. Because while God hands out second chances on a regular basis, it’s not necessarily a guarantee.”
“You mean Tara.”
She gave him a quick, motherly hug. “I mean life,” she whispered. She backed toward the door. “Don’t be so busy climbing up that you forget to enjoy the scenery along the road you’re taking.”
She winked and waved, leaving him to his thoughts. He built the four short walls methodically, with plenty of time to think, and when he was done, he walked home, past the closed-down mission, past the church with the altruistic priest, past houses and shops that meant little to him because he never took the time to be a neighbor or friend to those around him.
The old stone church at the corner had a lighted sign out front. He’d passed this sign countless times, but tonight the words struck deep.
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
I gain nothing.
The simple verse struck him tonight. Was the constant quest for success destined to be his downfall? He’d sailed through life with clear goals until last August when he lost his mother.
He’d never even had a chance to say good-bye. And worse, he couldn’t remember if he had kissed her at their last dinner, nearly three weeks before her death. Did she know how much he loved and appreciated her? Did she die knowing the depth of his gratitude?
He stared at the sign, then walked the last block deep in thought. Nettie Johnson said her regular mission dwellers had been invited to share in the neighborhood worship services. As he unlocked the front door of his home, he wondered if they’d mind making room for a money-grubbing lawyer too.
Kathy had kept Monday morning free of bridal appointments to give Meghan and Tara time to build the old-world display in the most visible front corner while the drywall team finished the tuxedo-area changing rooms. Donna met with the caterer to lock in the appetizer trays for the kickoff party. Two former brides who loved Elena offered to play hostess for the evening, circulating with trays of food so the staff could talk with prospective partners unencumbered.
While most of the staff decided that semiformal dresses from home worked fine, Kathy rented her own medieval-style costume for the gala.
“You look like one of Sleeping Beauty’s fairy godmothers.” Maisy rolled her eyes at the pink empire-waist gown and cone hat. “You can’t be serious.”