Never Say Never (10 page)

Linda stood up and reached back for her glass of tea. “So Chelle didn't like the captain?”

“For most of the trip, she seemed to. I don't know why last night was different.”

❧

Charlotte took a long time falling to sleep that night. Maybe she missed the slight movement of the ship, lulling her. When she finally succumbed to slumber, dreams flitted in and out of her mind. In every one of them, Gareth stood beside her. The fun they were having made her heart light and happy. When she awoke, she missed him a lot. The thought of never seeing him again felt like a sword piercing through her. She tried to shake off the feeling.

While she cooked breakfast for herself and Chelle, she wondered what Gareth liked for breakfast. They never shared that meal of the day. Maybe she should have felt guilty thinking about another man in the house Philip provided, but she didn't. For some reason, she felt that Philip and Gareth would have been good friends if they had ever met.

❧

By Wednesday, Gareth knew he was completely smitten with Charlotte. Every time he walked into a room, he almost expected her to be there. He missed her at his table in the evenings. Of course, he tried to be the perfect host, but he couldn't help wishing she were with him. She had eaten every dinner, except one, at his table. While he listened to the conversation going on around the group, his mind wandered to the other times when she had been there. Her dark curls, those clip things she used to scrunch her hair up on the back of her head, the filmy flower-print dresses she liked to wear.

“Captain?”

The questioning tone caught him unawares. He turned toward the dowager sitting on his left. “I'm sorry. I missed your comment, Mrs. Harrelson.”

“I was asking whether you have been a cruise captain for very long, or did you sail on other ships?”

Gareth launched into an explanation, all the time telling himself that he needed to pay closer attention or these passengers might not recommend the ship to their friends. Dinner couldn't be over soon enough for him. Finally, everyone departed, and he headed to the bridge. With the restlessness he felt, maybe he could give Homer a long break.

Even on the bridge, he felt Charlotte's presence. He stepped out on the balcony and the memory of the soft perfume she wore the night they were out here made him long to have her back. Close enough for him to breathe in that fragrance. Close enough for him to touch. . .close enough for him to kiss.

Ten

By the time the ship docked in New Orleans, Gareth knew he had to talk to Charlotte. He didn't have to be back on the bridge until after lunch, and he didn't want anyone intruding on his phone call.

Gareth went to the open door to the balcony. “I'm going ashore for a while. You'll be in charge.”

Homer nodded and gave him a half wave. “I'll see you when you get back.”

After exiting the ship, Gareth walked toward the taxicabs queued up in the street beyond the cruise dock buildings. He opened the door to the first one. “Take me somewhere quiet. I'll want you to wait for me while I make a private phone call. It might take awhile.”

The cabby glanced back at him. “Sure thing.” His thick southern accent resonated in the small confines of the automobile. From the wide, white smile that gleamed through his dark face, Gareth figured the driver envisioned his meter running up quite a tab.

The park where they stopped wasn't far from the dock area, but it met Gareth's requirements. Even though the day felt warm and muggy, a cool breeze blew through the trees and flowering bushes all around him. Gareth chose a wrought-iron bench sitting in the shade of a spreading magnolia tree. He enjoyed the scent of the waxy blossoms that were beginning to open.

Gareth punched the button that would ring Charlotte's number. He'd programmed it into his cell phone soon after she left the ship. He had never been more thankful for the satellite instrument than he was at this moment. After several rings, he started to pull the phone away from his ear, but she picked up.

“Hello.” Her answer sounded tentative.

“Charlotte?” Silence hung on the line between them.

“Gareth? Is this really you?” A breathless quality filled her voice, quickening his heart.

“Yes. . .I had to talk to you.” He hadn't wanted to sound so desperate, but he did.

She laughed. “I almost didn't pick up the phone. The number showed as an unknown on caller ID, and I don't like to talk to telemarketers. Even though I signed up for the Do-Not-Call list, I still get some.” She stopped as if she had run out of words. “Are you on the ship?”

The wind died down, but Gareth didn't mind the heat as long as he could talk to Charlotte. “No. We've docked in New Orleans. Actually, I'm in a park. I wanted complete privacy to make this call.” Had he told her too much?

“I'm glad you called.” Warmth infused every word.

Gareth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I've missed you. Everywhere I go on the ship, I remember seeing you there.”

“Wow. I miss you, too. I enjoy my memories of the times we spent together, but since you have never been here, I don't have memories of you in this house.”

He pictured her now with curls tumbling around her face and her eyes twinkling with an inner light. He had to think about something else. “How are things with Chelle?”

Charlotte seemed to hesitate. “Well, we still haven't dealt with it. I've prayed a lot, and I believe God is telling me to wait. That He will show me when to talk to her. He's working on her heart.”

Gareth smiled even though she couldn't see it. “That sounds good. So have you moved closer to God? You told me you had blamed Him for letting Philip die.”

“I finally realized that I need Him to help me with Chelle. We both have to work through this.”

Gareth glanced at his watch. Their conversation felt so short, but he'd been here quite awhile. He really needed to get back to the ship. “I can call you when I get back into port, if you want me to.” When she didn't immediately answer, he continued, “Or we could e-mail each other.”

“Just call me the next time you're in port. I don't do a lot of e-mail.”

“Okay. Will you be home next week at about this time?”

“Yes, and Gareth. . .thanks for calling today.”

After they hung up, he ambled across the grass toward the taxi. He could call her from the ship, but he wanted to distance the relationship from his working day. How could he balance what he felt for Charlotte against his strong desire not to be hurt again. . .hurt as he was when he lost Britte? But he didn't want to face the thought of never having any contact with Charlotte again.

❧

If Charlotte thought about Gareth a lot the first week after the cruise, it didn't compare to the number of times he filled her mind the second week. She was so excited on Friday night that she had a hard time going to sleep. Before daybreak, her eyes popped open and she was instantly awake. This was ridiculous. She wasn't a teenager with a crush. On her next birthday, she would face the dreaded four-oh. So why did her stomach hold a flock of butterflies that could fill the Cotton Bowl?

“M–o–m?” Chelle came through the den with a huge towel wrapped around her body. Another one turbaned her hair. “Are you going to fix any breakfast today?”

Charlotte turned from the window where she had been watching a pair of cardinals peck the ground. “Sure. What do you want?”

Chelle reached into the cabinet for a small glass and poured herself orange juice. “You know, you haven't really cooked very much since we got home.”

A feeling of guilt settled over Charlotte. Her daughter was right. “Maybe I was just spoiled by the way they waited on us hand and foot on the ship. I haven't given the house a good cleaning either.” She leaned both arms on the tall bar between the kitchen and breakfast room. “You didn't tell me what you want to eat.”

After downing the last of the juice, Chelle looked at her. “Anything. I'm just hungry.”

“How about French toast?”

“Great.” Chelle padded back across the den toward her bedroom.

Finally, the two of them felt sort of comfortable with each other again. Charlotte still heard the Lord tell her to wait. This was the kind of thing Philip would do. Ignore things and hope they would work out. She had always wanted to talk it to death, and usually that led to an argument. Maybe this way was better. But sometime, they would have to discuss what happened on the ship.

After Chelle ate and left for work, Charlotte looked at the clock above the end of the bar. What time did Gareth call last week? She didn't remember checking the exact time, but it was about midmorning. Just then, the phone rang. Her heart started beating double-time, making her feel breathless. She glanced at caller ID, and her breathing returned to normal before she picked up the phone.

“Hi, Linda.”

“What are you doing this morning?”

“Why?”

“I thought we could go down to Kohl's and check out the sale this weekend.”

How could she get out of that? Linda knew how much she liked to shop. “I've let a few things go, and I really need to clean up this morning. Maybe I can get a rain check.” That wasn't very convincing, was it?

“Are you okay, Charlotte? You sound a little. . .strange, I guess.”

“No, I'm fine. I could go this afternoon. You don't think all the good things will be gone by then, do you?”

She finally got Linda off the phone. It couldn't have been more than a minute before it rang again with the same unknown phone number showing as last Saturday.

“Hello.” Charlotte nervously tapped the fingernails of her other hand on the countertop.

“Is this a good time?” The vibrant baritone voice sent shivers through her. She was glad no one knew.

“Yes. Did you just get back?” Charlotte felt like she did when she was in high school, when she tried to talk to one of the football players, her thoughts all jumbled.

“Actually, we docked by seven this morning, but it took me awhile to get away. I want to be where no one could bother me. How are you doing, Charlotte?” The caring tone in his voice touched a spot that sprang to new life after more than a year.

“Things are on a more even keel here.” She laughed. “I hadn't thought about it until now, but that's a nautical expression, isn't it?”

His hearty laugh reached through the phone line into her heart. “So it is. I'm glad things are better with you.”

“How are Homer and Marilyn. . .and Doug?” Why couldn't she think of something more interesting to talk about?

“Homer is missing Marilyn; just like I'm mi— She went home last weekend. Doug's still here.”

What had he started to say? Was he going to say he missed her, too? She hoped so.

The conversation lasted much longer than last week's, but he was drawing it to a close much too soon. “I'm going home to the Netherlands after next week's cruise. . .for my regular three months off. I'll call you when I get into port.”

❧

The next Saturday morning, Charlotte woke just as early. Anticipation bubbled up inside her and simmered all morning. When the hands on the clock moved beyond ten, then eleven, she felt a letdown. Maybe he wasn't going to call.

Feeling more than ever like a teenager waiting on a boy to call, Charlotte decided she wasn't going to just sit around and mope. If he had tired of her, fine. Shopping would help her forget about him. . .if she could get her heart to cooperate. She didn't need these seesaw emotions at this time of life. She longed for that even keel she talked to Gareth about last Saturday.

Charlotte dug through the clothes in her closet and pulled out the new dress she bought last Saturday. She smiled as she remembered how good it looked on her. Linda wouldn't have let her put it back, even if she wanted to. But she didn't want to. The gauzy sundress had a draped neckline, and the exotic flowers reminded her of the butterfly garden she visited on the cruise.

After dressing, putting on makeup, and pulling her hair up into a French twist, Charlotte slipped pearl stud earrings into her ears. Giving herself a once-over in the mirror, she smiled. She didn't look like a woman who was pining away over a man.

She walked into the den and picked up her purse, rummaging in it to find her car keys. The ringing of the phone distracted her, but she told herself not to get her hopes up. When she looked at the caller ID machine, Charlotte felt a reprieve.

“Hello, Gareth. I'd almost given up on you. I was just ready to leave the house.”

“Where were you going?”

Did she want to tell him she was going shopping? “Just out.”

A long pause echoed in her ear. “I don't want to keep you from anything important. . .but I'm at DFW Airport. I had hoped you could pick me up, and we could go out to eat before my flight to Oosterhout leaves later this afternoon.”

The tom-tom beating in her chest sent a flush to her cheeks. Gareth was here at DFW. She never expected anything like this. “Okay. Tell me which terminal, and I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.” Thankfully, she was already dressed.

❧

Gareth stood inside the terminal with his sports jacket over his arm and watched for the car Charlotte said she would be driving. When it slowed beside the curb, he quickly pulled his overnighter outside with him.

Charlotte got out of the car and opened the trunk. “I'm so glad you came.”

After putting the luggage in the car and closing the trunk, he turned toward her. She looked so beautiful, and the warm wind blew her perfume straight toward him. He closed his eyes and inhaled quickly. After opening them again, he took her hands. “I am, too.”

He couldn't keep from raising her fingers to his lips. So what if they were in public?

A blush stained her cheeks, and she sighed. “You clean up really nicely.” Her nervous laugh revealed a lot to him.

“So do you.” He slipped an arm around her waist and reached to open her door. “Where are we going for lunch? You're from here, so take me anywhere you want. Don't worry about the price. I want this to be special.”

While she made a series of turns that took them out of the airport, he studied her. On the ship, he liked her hair down and even bunched up from the heat, but this style really flattered her. Curly tendrils kissed her cheeks and neck, giving him all kinds of ideas.
God, what am I going to do? She excites me as no woman has since Britte.
Too many obstacles stood in the way of a committed relationship, the only kind he would consider
.

“Since you have such wonderful chefs feeding you all the time, it's hard to decide where to go.” She smiled toward him before returning her attention to the road clogged with traffic.

At least on the ship, her attention hadn't been divided between him and all these vehicles. He almost wished he had her alone with him on the
Pearl of the Ocean.
“I just wanted to be with you, so whatever you want to eat is fine with me.”

“How about lots of broiled meat? Isn't that what men like?”

He joined in her laughter. “Take me to it.”

When they were seated at a table in a Brazilian restaurant, she leaned toward him. “I've always liked to come here, but I don't very often, because they just keep bringing the wonderful broiled meat by the table as long as you will eat it. There's beef, lamb, chicken, pork, anything you want, and the salad bar is the best I know.”

All through the meal, their conversation flowed comfortably. Gareth didn't want this time to end. The food was good, but the company was even better. Now he wished he had booked a later flight. Just thinking about being in Europe three months without the opportunity to see Charlotte made the future look bleak.