The Heart of Memory (22 page)

Marisa pulled a large yellow envelope from her computer bag. “This is some mail that came for you at A&A. I already sent the form replies to the ones that it made sense to, but there were some that I didn’t know what to do with.”

“Do you want to make replies right now?”

Marisa looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, no, not really.”

Savannah was a little miffed. Wasn’t that her job? “Well, alright then. Neither do I, frankly. But couldn’t these have waited until I came back?”

“I suppose they could have, but I thought this might be the better way to do it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why?”

Marisa pushed her hair behind her ears, a clear sign she was nervous. “Savannah, I think it’s time for me to quit A&A.”

Savannah was surprised at how hurt she felt, especially since she had already given Marisa the go-ahead to leave. “I — I didn’t think you were ready to go.”

“I wasn’t. But then all this happened, and I started making my plans to go out to New York, and I realized I just didn’t want to come back. Not that I didn’t want to come back to
you,”
she quickly amended. “I just mean I don’t want to leave Jeremy. I’m pretty sure I want to marry him, but I know it would be wiser for us to spend more time together first. He can’t leave his job, and my job is … well … precarious.”

Savannah told herself she had no right to feel abandoned, but she couldn’t deny the emotion. It had been different when she’d been the one telling Marisa to go, especially since Marisa hadn’t seemed eager to leave. But to have her officially quit felt like a knife in the gut. “I’m … well, I’m happy for you and Jeremy, of course. I just didn’t think you’d be leaving so soon.”

“I know, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that I’m springing this on you while you’re on vacation. But I really felt like God was telling me it was the right thing to do. I already turned in my resignation to Shaun.”

Savannah was surprised. “You decided that quick. I just told you yesterday you could take some time off.”

“Well … I’d already written it. I was just waiting for God to tell me the right time to go.”

Savannah bristled at the comment. “Nice of him to ruin my sabbatical.”

“Savannah—”

“No, no, never mind. I really am happy for you, Marisa. Was there anything else you wanted to dump on me before you left?”

“Um, no —”

“Alright then, I’m going to get going.” Savannah grabbed the envelope from the table and stood. “Have a nice flight. Good luck in New York.”

She walked out of the restaurant with tears in her eyes and her emotions in complete confusion. She tried to sort them out as she drove, rather than wallowing and making herself too weepy to drive. She was halfway back to The Refuge before she finally realized the real reason she was so upset. It had nothing to do with Marisa, really, but with A&A. It felt like the beginning of the end. Without Marisa, she had no assistant. But there was no point in hiring someone else, because she wasn’t working anymore anyway. And if she wasn’t working anymore …

She decided to push back her return flight when she got back to The Refuge. Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of going home.

S
HAUN WOKE UP TO THE
sound of a thud downstairs. He sat up and checked the date on his watch. Savannah wasn’t scheduled to come home for another week, now that she’d changed her flight—had she changed it again?

He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats as he called out, “Savannah?”

“Just me, Dad.”

He smiled as he finished dressing and went downstairs. “Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.”

“Hey, Mr. Trover.” Adam appeared from the dining room. “I was just putting Jessie’s school stuff on the table in there for her. Sorry if we woke you up.”

“Not a problem. I wouldn’t have slept in if I’d known you were coming. What’s the occasion?”

Jessie nodded to the pile of books Adam had put on the table.

“I’ve got a huge project due Monday and wanted to get some more time to work on it. There are just too many distractions on campus, and Adam had to come back anyway for his dad’s birthday dinner. He’s going to keep me company until he has to meet up with family.”

“Ah, well, happy birthday to your dad, Adam. I’m going to get myself some breakfast and have a shower; can I get you two anything?”

“No thanks, Mr. Trover.”

“We ate at the dorm,” Jessie said.

“Alright then. I’ll leave you alone so you can get to work.” He went into the kitchen, but could hear Adam and Jessie as they talked in the dining room. He couldn’t help but smile at how the two of them sounded together—already like an old married couple who could finish each other’s sentences. He and Savannah had been like that once.

His thoughts turned to Jessie and Adam marrying. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine it. They’d only been dating since the spring, but sometimes it was just obvious when two people belonged together. He’d been protective of Jessie when she’d told him she and Adam were dating; she’d never had a steady boyfriend, and he wasn’t crazy at the idea of some boy trying to get intimate with his daughter. But he’d begrudgingly admitted after seeing them together that, if she
had
to date someone, Adam was the best kind of boy for her to choose. And it was helpful that he and Savannah already knew his family, since his mother worked at A&A. Savannah had chided Shaun for not seeing their relationship in the cards sooner. They’d met when Adam’s mother, Ginny, had come on staff with A&A four years ago, and Savannah swore Adam had developed a crush on Jessie the first day they’d met. “I’m surprised it took them this long to get together,” she said. “But God was protecting their hearts. Dating at 20 is very different from dating at 16 — so much more maturity. I give them a year before they’re engaged.”

The thought of Jessie getting engaged made Shaun ill. He couldn’t pay for a wedding. He couldn’t help them with a down payment on a house, or even co-sign on a loan, given how poor his credit was likely to be at that point. And he knew his daughter’s personality—she wouldn’t elope. She’d want a giant party, a bash with a band and ten bridesmaids, a guest list of at least two hundred people—probably more since, between the two of them, they knew practically the entire college student body.

No longer hungry, Shaun abandoned the stack of pancakes he’d made and went for a run. When he came back and finished his shower, Adam was gone. Jessie sat at the dining room table, surrounded by notecards and thick books with titles like,
The Psychology of the Child
and
Brain Development and Learning from Birth Through Adolescence.
He was so impressed with her passion for her future family. He’d heard of women going to college to find a husband, but he’d never heard of anyone using their college years to learn how to be a better wife and mother.

“Interesting reading,” he said as he pulled out a chair.

“Fascinating, yeah.” She smiled at him and he could see the twinkle in her eyes that she always got when Adam had been around. “When Adam saw what they were he asked if he could read them, too, so I’m not the only one who has any idea what’s going on with our kids.”

Shaun laughed to hide his anguish. “He’s already talking kids?”

“I know, can you believe it?” She flashed a self-conscious smile as a blush crept into her cheeks.

“Did they not invite you to lunch?”

“Oh, no, they did. I’m just really desperate to finish this project, and I know how big family lunches at their place can go. Before you know it you’ve been hanging out and talking with people so long that it’s time for dinner. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave once I was there, but I would have lost too much work time if I’d stayed.”

“Little Miss Responsible.”

“I’m a first-born, what can I say?”

“Can I make you some lunch?” he asked.

“Sure, thanks.”

He went back to the kitchen and put together soup and sandwiches for both of them. With Savannah gone again, he was determined not to grocery shop until every food in the house was eaten. He’d gone just a few days before she’d left, so he had plenty to work with at the moment. He made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup to counter the chill of the mid-November day and set them up at the kitchen table so nothing spilled on Jessie’s project notes. “Thanks, Dad,” she said when she came to the table. “So much better than dorm food, even when it’s simple.”

“Glad you like it. Can Adam cook?” he asked with a wink.

She laughed. “Not really, no. Standard stuff he can handle, but a whole dinner, with sides and everything — not so much.”

“Ah, well, you’ll have to help him out then.” He chuckled when she blushed. “Oh, come on, you know we all think you two will get married.”

“You think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well …” she smiled. “Yeah.”

“Your mom saw it way before even you two did.”

“Really? Mom?”

“Oh, yes. She was thrilled when the two of you finally got together. She loves Adam.”

“You’re kidding. I didn’t know that.” She let out a snort. “Wish she loved everything else I was into.”

“She does, honey. Believe me. She’s got high standards, but it’s because she wants the best for people.”

The sunny look on Jessie’s face was gone. She stirred her soup, her eyes focused on her bowl. “Well if she wants me to reach my full potential she should be trying to spend a little more time with me instead of swooping in to criticize me at every turn.”

He covered her free hand with his own. “Hey, trust me Jess, I know how it feels to play second fiddle to A&A. But your mom takes her calling very seriously — “

“She was called to be a mother first. Either she forgot about that or God did. Either way, I’m not too happy with either of them in that regard.”

She pushed away her half-eaten soup and untouched sandwich. “I’m not really hungry. I’m going to get back to work.”

Shaun let her disappear back into the dining room without trying to stop her. He had his way of coping, and she had hers — he wasn’t going to push her to be okay with things. It hurt him to see the chasm between her and Savannah, but at this point he wasn’t sure it would be wise to encourage healing between the two of them anyway. Who knew who Savannah might be as time went on? And at this rate, there soon wouldn’t be an A&A to compete with, anyway.

S
AVANNAH SAT IN THE ROCKING
chair on the second story porch and watched the peach trees sway in unison with the wind. She pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders and reluctantly admitted the weather was turning too cool to sit outside. She retreated to her room down the hall, quilt still around her shoulders, and shut herself in the Spartan room before she ran into anyone. She’d talked to a few others since arriving, and everyone was very gracious and kind, even those who recognized her name. But she didn’t feel like she could truly relate to them, given she had no real reason for hating God the way she did, and she was reluctant to give them the impression that she empathized completely with their situation. She chose instead to wander the main rooms during the group activities when everyone else was engaged, and kept her interactions with others limited to meals.

Boredom was becoming a problem, however. And boredom eventually led to her thinking, and thinking eventually led her to dwelling on her future, which she was loathe to consider. She was tired of reading, tired of sleeping, tired of staring at the orchard from the porch. What she really wanted to do was cook.

The food at The Refuge had been excellent so far. More than once Savannah had wanted to venture behind the swinging wood door and talk shop with Aniyah, the Creole woman Tabitha claimed was the best undiscovered treasure in the world of Southern cuisine. Savannah agreed, and had offered her thanks to the cook more than once when she’d brought out another plate of food to the long table where everyone ate together. But she hadn’t been ready to risk the possibility of an actual conversation that might turn to spiritual things, which was likely given the nature of The Refuge, especially when talking with people who had gone through the program. Aniyah had done that four years ago. She’d just never left.

Savannah looked around the room once more, just in case something interesting had materialized when she hadn’t been looking. No dice. She headed for the kitchen.

Aniyah played Motown girl groups as she worked. The music could be heard through most of the first floor unless multiple doors were closed between you and her. She sang along with a voice that rivaled Diana Ross’s and delivered just as much soul. Savannah paused outside the door, reluctant to interrupt the karaoke cooking. She waited for the song to end, her mouth watering at the scent that wafted under the door, and when “Ain’t No Mountain” faded to silence she slowly entered.

Three giant steel pots sat on the industrial sized range, steam billowing to the copper hood above them. Four squat rice cookers stood in a line on the counter, and at the island stood Aniyah, her fists punching bread dough in a huge ceramic bowl. “Well, now, looking for a snack? Don’t ruin your appetite for dinner, now, or you’ll be sorry when the gumbo comes around and you don’t have room.”