Saturday Morning Read Online Free PDF Page B

so sure? Please, if it is something I—we—said or did … This sigh came from the very bottom of her heart. “Please, please make up for any mistakes we—I made.” She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “God, I don’t want to move to San Francisco. And I don’t want to live my life without my husband at my side.”
    Are you going to trust Me?
    “Yes, of course I trust You.” She caught her breath and thought about what she’d just said. What are You asking of me? No wonder Peter got a bit put out when Jesus asked him three times, “Do you love me?” Tears welled up in her throat, a hot, hard lump of them. The back of her eyes and nose burned, so hot was the moisture. “I am sick and tired of crying too. You know that?”
    Chai Lai, her seven-year-old, cross-eyed Siamese cat, purred from her chair, stood up, and arched her back, stretching every muscle as only felines do. She leaped to the floor and, tail like a question mark, minced her way between the buckets of cut lavender stems. When the cat got close enough, Andy reached out, scooped her up in her arms, and buried a tear-streaked face in the warm fur.
    The week went by, and Andy and Martin communicated only through the Internet. His e-mails came first thing in the morning and never at night before he went to bed as they used to. He never mentioned the new job, moving, or whether or not he’d spoken with the powers-that-be about her circumstances. Instead of the newsy, interesting e-mails he used to send, the morning messages were short and to the point: or
    Only hard work drove the demons from Andy’s mind. But evenharvesting lavender—much as she enjoyed gathering in the purple blossoms, stems, and seeds—left too much freedom to think about things, about her and Martin. She kept hearing Are you going to trust Me? in her heart, and a particular scripture kept circling in her head, “For wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge” If she lived by that scripture or the message in the country-western songs, she thought, she should stand by her man and move to San Francisco.
    When the weekend came and went without Martin making an appearance, she called him on his cell phone. She fought to appear unconcerned as to where he was or who he might be with. “Martin, we have to talk. I don’t want to live my life without you. I love you.” Handset to ear, she sat down in the kitchen and spooned honey into her teacup. Maybe the tea would help keep her calm. And maybe the honey would help sweeten her tongue.
    He heaved a sigh that echoed through the phone lines. “Me too. I don’t know what the solution is for all this. I have a week left before I have to give them my answer.”
    “Honey, I know that if we put our heads together, we can figure out a workable solution. Did you talk to them about our, I mean, my situation here?”
    “No. I haven’t had a chance, but it won’t do any good. It’s their way or no way.”
    Andy bit back the retort that popped into her head. Make nice, Andy. Use your motherly coaxing skills. “Come on now, honey. Surely once you explain, they’ll understand. You can tell them we’re working toward the time when I can hire someone.”
    “As if that would ever happen,” he was quick to reply.
    Shari’s words came back to her like a slap in the face. Could he be jealous? “What do you mean by that? I told you before that there isn’t enough cash flow right now to hire someone, but as soon as there is, I will.”
    “You’ll move here, to San Francisco?”
    “Yes. And no. If moving there means giving up our home here, no. But I would certainly consider staying there a few weeks at a time. We could have two homes. Would that work for you?” She put all her love and encouragement into her voice.
    “We can’t afford two homes, Andy. Are you nuts?”