Almost Like Being in Love (38 page)

Nancy Miller lagged behind. “I'm sorry, Caron.”

“It's not your fault.”

“No, although I do want to say I think your idea has merit.” Was the woman merely trying to soften her father's rejection of her idea? “I realize that is not the same as your father being willing to listen.”

“No, but I appreciate it.”

“Don't let his reaction stop you. Keep gathering information about establishing a home staging division in this company. I've
known your father for a long time, and sometimes he forgets that other people have ideas worth considering.”

“Yes, well, other people aren't his daughter.”

“True. And I hate to say it, Caron, but being his daughter only makes working for him all the harder. Sometimes it's successful, but this is your second attempt to be both his daughter and employee. Do your best, but realize, no matter what you do, you're not ever going to be able to satisfy your father.”

•  •  •

You're not ever going to be able to satisfy your father.

Hours later, Nancy Miller's statement resounded in her mind, as if it was on nonstop playback.

Caron moved her laptop off her lap, scrunching her eyes shut and letting her head fall back against the couch. Her bottle of water had warmed to room temperature, and her container of blueberry Greek yogurt sat beside it, uneaten.

How could the other woman see the truth when Caron couldn't?

She'd failed.

Any indication she'd earned her father's notice as a Realtor? Fleeting, at best.

She'd denied her heart—walked away from Kade—all for her father, who thought Alex was the right man for her.

What would her father say when he knew they'd broken up?

What was she going to do?

The trill of her phone ended her introspection. Okay, easy answer. She'd answer her phone.

“Caron, it's Vanessa. Do you have time to talk?”

“Absolutely. I'm more than happy to talk. I've spent too many hours trying to sort out my life.”

“Sounds like there's a story there. Logan's on the road with
the team, so I've got lots of time to myself. The last time we talked, you'd quit your job and things were a little strained between you and Alex.”

“Yeah, a lot has happened since then.” Caron eased off the couch, stretching her back with a soft groan.

“So how's life been treating you since you quit your job?”

Caron tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear as she scooped a handful of Hot Tamales out of the glass jar she'd set out on her kitchen counter earlier in the day. “You want an honest answer?”

“No, I want you to lie to me.” Vanessa's words were laced with laughter. “Of course I want an honest answer.”

“Let's see . . . weren't you the one who prayed for imperfection for me?”

“I did say something like that the last time we talked. But I've really been praying for clarity and for direction for you.”

“God's said yes to the imperfection . . . but not so much to the clarity and direction.”

“Why don't you tell me what's going on?”

“The most recent life change is that Alex and I broke up. We both know it's the right thing to do. And we also know our decision isn't going to please our parents at all.”

“Oh my gosh, Caron! We have got to talk more often. First you quit your job and now you break up with Alex? You're just making one huge life change after another, aren't you? What happened?”

How did she explain the breakup to Vanessa?

“Well, Alex wasn't very happy when I told him I was going to work for Kade Webster—”

“What?”

Vanessa's shriek had Caron holding her phone away from her ear. “I guess I deserved that. So much has happened in the past month—including
my working for Kade Webster, although that's not why Alex and I broke up.”

When silence was Vanessa's only response, Caron asked, “Aren't you going to say anything?”

“Me? I'm not the one whose life is in upheaval. Keep talking.”

“The condensed version is that Kade Webster offered me a temporary job staging a house for him. I accepted, thinking the tension between my dad and me would disappear while I was gone. Alex wasn't crazy about it, but, being Alex, he understood.”

“And?”

“Things got . . . a little confusing between Kade and me when I was in Colorado.”

“Confusing how?”

“Romantically.”

“Caron, we've been talking for, what? Two, maybe three minutes? And I feel like I've been riding a Tilt-A-Whirl.”

“You? Hey, I've been living all of this.” Caron paced her kitchen, returning to the pile of Hot Tamales. “It's okay, though. I got my head on straight and remembered I was with Alex—”

“But you said you broke up.”

“That happened after I came home. Alex admitted he's been dealing with a lot of family stress and that he's not ready to get married. To me or anyone else.”

Once again, Vanessa didn't say anything.

“Are you still there?”

“Oh, I'm here all right. But I'm waiting for the next installment in ‘Caron Hollister, This Is Your Life.' ”

“More like ‘This Is Your Life
Unraveling
.' ” Caron tossed two Hot Tamales into her mouth. “Alex and I were finally able to admit we are just friends. Nothing more.”

“And what do your parents think about all this?”

“We haven't told them yet. Being honest with one another
was hard enough. I needed a little time to gather my strength for the conversation with my parents.”

“That's understandable. So, what else?”

“What else—what?”

“Is that all?”

“No, although I wish it was.” Caron huffed out a breath. “My father offered me my old job back—”

“What?”

“Believe me, you're no more shocked than I was.”

“And?”

“Of course I took the job. What else would I do? But . . .”

“But . . . ?”

“It's not going to work.” Speaking the truth out loud seemed to drain the energy from Caron, causing her to slump onto her kitchen floor and lean back against the island.

“Why not?”

“Let's just say Nancy Miller was right.”

“Are you going to explain that comment?”

“She said I'm not going to be able to make my father happy.” Caron closed her eyes. “Did I ever tell you about what happened in high school?”

“High school?”

“Sophomore year. I participated in a class prank that got labeled as vandalism.”

“I imagine that didn't go over too well with your father.”

“Just another transgression, along with poor grades and pink hair.” Caron sighed. “After that, I decided I was going to stop being the reason my parents dreaded parent–teacher conferences. Put all my time and efforts into my grades and basketball.”

“That must have made your father happy.”

“Sure. But every basketball victory gave way to the next game
and the need to win. To make my father proud, whether he was in the stands or not.”

“And then you became a Realtor . . .”

“Yes.”

“I would have to agree with Nancy Miller—you are never going to make your father happy.”

“I'm just facing that truth for the first time.”

“You're not the only person to get tripped up by wanting someone's approval, you know that, right?”

“I know that's true . . . but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't help me figure out how to change.”

“Can I share one thing with you?”

“Sure.”

“There's a passage in Scripture—John, I think—that talks about the rulers who believed in Jesus. But they didn't confess their belief because they were afraid of the Pharisees and that they might be put out of the synagogue.”

“Okay . . .”

“The passage says,
They loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God.
”

Her father's approval. God's approval.

“Those rulers who believed in Jesus? They wanted the approval of the Pharisees more than they wanted everything a relationship with Jesus would give them. Things like freedom. And grace. A new identity.” Vanessa paused before continuing. “Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want out of life, Caron? And why are you so afraid of losing your father's approval that you aren't truly being you?”

“I . . . can't answer those questions, Vanessa.”

“Didn't mean to throw a pop quiz at you—”

“No. No, I'm an adult.
I should know the answers. I've never stopped to really think about it before.” Caron ran her fingers through her hair. “You've given me even more to think about.”

“I'm sorry—”

“Don't apologize. I've got to figure this all out on my own.”

“Not on your own. Talk to God. Listen. Wait before you make any more decisions. Maybe if Logan and I'd done that, we wouldn't have made such a mess of our marriage the first time.”

Talk to God. Listen. Wait.

Caron lay awake for hours after her phone call with Vanessa, puzzling over the same five words. Maybe talking, listening, and waiting were the right steps to discovering what she wanted out of life.

A
fter hours of nonstop talking and laughter following Margo and Ronny's rehearsal dinner at the restaurant, all was quiet in Margo's apartment.

Emma, Leslie, and Brooke had already said their goodbyes, promising to be back by ten o'clock the following morning to get ready for the wedding. Only Caron remained, gathering up glasses and soda cans and carrying them to the kitchen.

“You, my friend, need to go to bed.” Caron tried to shoo Margo out of the kitchen.

“Do brides-to-be really sleep the night before they get married?”

“I wouldn't know, but I highly recommend it.”

“I can't believe my wedding day is almost here.” Margo moved from the kitchen, but only as far as her couch, decorated with the pillows from the Tour of Homes, collapsing onto it with a sigh. “We've been planning it for months, and now here it is.”

Caron moved from the kitchen to sit on the padded arm of the chair across from her friend. “It's going to be a beautiful
wedding. The handmade necklace and earrings are perfect with our dresses.”

“I'm glad you like them. Maybe that means you'll wear them again.”

“I will. But everyone will be looking at you anyway. Tomorrow is all about you and Ronny.”

“How are you doing?” Margo sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Me? I'm fine. A bridesmaid is kind of like background furniture or an accent piece—”

Margo reached for her hand. “I'm serious, Caron. Is tomorrow going to be hard for you after breaking up with Alex and the fact that you'll see Kade again?”

“Breaking up with Alex was the right thing to do.”

“And what about Kade?”

Kade.

Her longing for Kade was like the faint sound of wind chimes on a breeze—turning her heart toward something that beckoned her closer, but that she couldn't grasp.

Caron slipped down into the chair. “It's so odd, Margo. I left here knowing there was no chance for Kade and me to ever be together. I thought I would go home and that Alex and I would get married, not end our relationship. I can't deny that I've thought about Kade, even though I've tried not to think of him. But I have to figure out who I am . . . what God expects of me. That's new for me . . . to ask God what he wants from me.”

“And does he ever mention Kade?”

Caron couldn't help but laugh. “You are so persistent.”

“Well?”

“I miss him. I regret the choice I made two years ago, trying to make my father happy. I was so wrong.”

“Then do something about it.”

“I have been doing something about it. I've been praying. Asking God what I should do.”

“I'm telling you what you need to do.” Margo leaned forward. “You have to make the first move.”

“Margo—”

“You still love him, right?”

“I . . . might . . . Margo, don't rush me.”

“Then prove it. Go after him. Put it all on the line for love.”

“Now you sound like some sort of country song—”

“You know what I'm saying. You're the woman with the destination wedding. If you want a chance with Kade Webster again, risk it all.”

“What? I'm supposed to ask the man to dance tomorrow and then propose?”

“That's one idea—”

“Oh, right. And what if I risk it all and he doesn't want me?”

“Then you're right back here, trying to figure out what to do with your life. But at least you made your own choice. You went after what you wanted. You didn't worry about your father's approval—or anyone else's.”