The Barefoot Believers Page 24

  Chapter Twenty

  They talked until long past all of their bedtimes and Moxie ended up spending the night. The next morning, wanting to both reciprocate for the tuna sandwich and snacks and because she said she needed to find a way for her new mom and old cantankerous dad to come to terms with what had happened, Moxie offered to open up the Bait Shack Buffet and cook breakfast for them all.

  Kate begged off, saying she’d done too much the last few days and needed to rest her foot. It was the truth. Though when she looked out the window of her upstairs bedroom and saw a certain red pickup truck pull in across the street, she figured her foot had rested enough and up she got.

  She made the trip around the house and across the way with practiced ease but the last little bit, coming up the drive, she slowed. Vince had gone inside. Probably already engulfed in a project to make the place more comfortable for Esperanza and Fabbie. And by doing so, making Gentry all the more comfortable not being here.

  Suddenly not being there sounded like a great idea.

  She paused, her cane firmly planted, then began to turn away to go home again.

  “Well, there she is.” Vince came down from the porch with a leather tool belt slung over one shoulder, a can of paint in one hand and a power drill in the other. “Kate the wise.”

  Clang. He set the paint can in the back of his truck.

  “Kate the righteous.”

  Thud. Next came the power tool.

  “Crowing Kate.”

  Ka-chunk. He unburdened himself of the tool belt then made the two long strides to stand before her with his hands on his hips.

  Kate took a moment just to look at him. Vince Merchant. Hardworking handyman. Loving father and grandfather. Good neighbor.

  The man she had never completely stopped loving.

  The very thing he had recently accused Kate of never allowing in her life—something worth hanging onto. But in order to do that, she would first have to let go.

  Of fear.

  Of her defenses.

  Of the past.

  And mostly, of the man himself. Of all she had built him up to be. Of all the things he never would be.

  She had to let go in order to hang on.

  If she could do that, then maybe…

  “Actually, it’s Humble Kate.” She leaned on her cane with her left hand and extended her right as if introducing herself for the first time to the man she had loved for half her life. “I’m here to apologize.”

  He opened his mouth, probably to zing her with a quick comeback, then froze, cocked his head and shut his mouth again.

  Kate smiled. She’d left Vince Merchant speechless. That was a start.

  Emboldened, she asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me in so we can talk about this?”

  “I would but this isn’t my home.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the quaint little “mystery house.” “Gentry and Esperanza are moving his things in later today. He’s in. I’m out. They want to do the work here themselves.”

  Which was as it should be, she almost said, but caught herself. The man knew that. She could see it in his eyes. He did not need Kate the Great to point it out to him. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  He nodded. “No sense in pretending you had no hand in it. If it were left up to me…”

  I’d have botched it big time. The man knew, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

  Kate put both hands on her cane, which she imagined made her appear quite humble. “Oh, I just made one little phone call.”

  He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Don’t kid yourself.”

  “Well…” She wondered if she was blushing.

  “Nothing is that simple.”

  “Oh. Um, yes, you’re right of course.” Now she knew for sure she was blushing because the heat reached from her neck to her temples.

  “But your being there, your calling him, your finally telling him why you left all those years ago, gave Gentry a message that I hadn’t gotten across to him in a lifetime.” He shuffled his feet, dropped his gaze. “No matter what passes between people, love hangs tough. It gives the best and expects the best, even when ‘the best’ hurts or is inconvenient or comes at a personal sacrifice.”

  “I think I’ve read that somewhere before.” She smiled to hear this rugged handyman sum up the “love” chapter from Corinthians so simply, and from his heart.

  “And obviously the kids wanted their marriage to work.”

  “Of course.”

  “When Esperanza moved here with the baby, she had given Gentry an ultimatum. Get a job and grow up.”

  “And he did get a job.”

  “Yeah, but he never had any real reason to grow up. I mean, I raised him to believe he’d always get a second chance. And a third.” Some people might have at least chuckled as they said something like that, to soften the harshness of such a painful confession. This time, Vince did not try to make light of it. “And if those didn’t work out, I’d swoop in to the rescue.”

  “You always let him win.”

  “Hmm?”

  “At Wa Hoo. You always let him win at Wa Hoo, Vince. Even as a kid he knew that wasn’t right.”

  “Wa Hoo.” His smile quirked up on one side, showing a hint of the old Vince again. “Thanks, Kate.”

  She nodded. Let him go. “So I guess this means I won’t be seeing you around this place anymore?”

  “Not around this place.” He put one hand on the tailgate of his truck and raised his head so that his line of vision fixed on the only other house on Dream Away Bay Court.

  “Is that your not-so-subtle way of angling for an invite over to my place?” she asked, not even pretending to play it coy.

  “I don’t know. The two of us? What would the neighbors say?”

  “It’s about time,” she muttered a guess through a sly smile.

  “Why, Kate!” He feigned shock badly.

  “Let me finish.” She held up her hand. “It’s about time the two of them stopped acting like lovestruck kids and did a little growing up themselves.”

  “Lovestruck? Kate, to be lovestruck you’d first have to be in—”

  “I love you, Vince Merchant. On some level, I always have and the biggest regret of my life was not sticking around and fighting for that love, and for our family.”

  “Our family,” he whispered, then slowly, wistfully nodded his head in acceptance of that. “It’s a little late in coming together, Kate. Do you think we can get past that?”

  “I do.”

  “Remember those words, you may need to say them in front of a preacher later,” he said softly just before he took her in his arms and kissed her. When he lifted his lips from hers, it was only to whisper “I love you, Kate. With all my heart.”

  “Vince…I…” Kate’s cell phone blared out and cut her off. She glanced down to see Jo’s number. “I have to take this.”

  “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  “You’re not?”

  He smiled at her and shook his head.

  When she flipped open her phone, she practically sang her greeting, “Hey there!”

  “Kate, we need you to meet us at the urgent-care clinic.”

  Kate’s pulse quickened at the breathless rush of Jo’s words. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  “Is it Fabbie?” Vince stepped up. “Is she sick again?”

  “No. It’s Moxie,” Jo said, still struggling to get her breath.

  “Moxie?”

  Another gulp of air and then laughter as her sister spilled out the explanation. “Billy J tried to sneak out of the restaurant to go fishing. Mom decided that sounded like fun and took off to tag along. Moxie grabbed the fishing poles, snagged a giant plastic swordfish, which fell from the ceiling, and she tripped over it and there’s blood everywhere and—”

  “A swordfish? Fell from the ceiling?” Kate rolled her eyes. She had given up a second kiss from Vince for this? “What?”

 
“Please don’t make me say that again. The upshot is that she has a gash that is probably nothing but may need stitches.”

  “Oh, I get it. She’s our sister for less than one whole day and already she’s gotten the competition bug and is trying to get a better bad-foot story than the two of us.”

  “It’s not her foot.”

  “Moxie? Your sister?” Vince squinted and shook his head.

  “What?” Kate held up a finger to ask him to hold that thought a moment.

  “Knees and shins,” Jo explained.

  “Aww, upping the ante. I see where this is going,” Kate teased.

  “Shall I call Travis and ask him to swing by and bring you to the clinic?” Jo asked.

  “No. I think I can get a ride.”

  Vince nodded his head. “Why not? I don’t have any more work to do here. And you can tell me about Moxie on the way.”

  Later that day, when the sun had begun to set, the sisters put their feet up on a footstool on the back deck overlooking the most wondrous tacky garden in all of Santa Sofia.

  Mom and Billy J had not yet returned from their fishing trip. Gentry, Esperanza and Fabiola were probably sitting down to their first evening together as a family in their new home. And the men in their lives had gone out to pick up something for their supper.

  “So, beach wedding at sunrise or chapel wedding with all the trimmings?” Jo looked up from taking off the last bits of her once-fancy toenail polish.

  “We’re not even officially engaged.” Yet. Kate shook her head. She wondered if Vince still had the ring he had once bought for her and if he did, how would it feel to have him slide it on her finger? She held her hand out and admired the place where it would rest, as if the diamond were already winking at her.

  “After all these years,” Moxie marveled, shifting about her bandaged leg.

  Kate wasn’t quite sure if she was talking about the belated romance or their finding each other again. Did it matter? She decided it didn’t. They were both awesome examples of God putting things right in His time.

  “Anyway, given our history, you may be married before I am,” Kate reflected wisely.

  “Who? Me?” Both Moxie and Jo looked up at her.

  “Yes. Either one of you. Both of you.” Kate looked first at one sister then the other, then laughed. “Don’t tell me it never occurred to you. No dreams of white gowns, frothy veils and gorgeous jewel-encrusted wedding slippers?”

  “Only if those shoes are my something borrowed.” Moxie aimed a keen eye at Jo. “I can’t imagine ever owning something like those.”

  “Sorry. My days of buying shoes that cost an arm and a leg are over. How do you feel about rhinestone-encrusted flip-flops?”

  “Works for me.” Moxie clinked her iced tea glass to Jo’s.

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Kate blinked and pretended to clean out her ears. “Jo is giving up expensive shoes?”

  “Maybe all shoes.”

  “You plan on going barefoot?”

  “I just might. I’m thinking of starting a group down at the beach to meet, study the Bible, take on service projects, whatever needs to be done.”

  “Sign me up,” Moxie volunteered. “What do you plan to call this group?”

  “Well, in honor of how me and Kate got down here again and as a way of making anyone who joins feel equal as sisters in Christ—”

  “Which really should be a sisterhood, not a competition,” Kate just had to throw in.

  “I’m thinking, the Barefoot Believers.”

  “I like it.” Moxie wriggled her toes. “Imagine the chance to show how much you love God without having to put on shoes that pinch!”

  The iced-tea glasses clinked again.

  Then all went silent for a moment.

  Kate looked out over the yard, then lifted her head and found that if she tried, if she really concentrated, she could still hear the ocean. In that instant, she was connected to the past, her childhood, her memories, to the poet inside the podiatrist, to her mother—and in a small way, her father—to her sisters, to Vince and Gentry and most of all to God. She had run for so long and gone so far only to find Him waiting for her at every turn.

  Even in Santa Sofia.

  “This isn’t really a bad place to settle down, is it?” Kate observed, wriggling her bare toes in her now grubby but still vibrant purple cast.

  “Good place to lose yourself,” Jo murmured, her eyes shut and a peaceful smile on her face for the first time in a long time.

  “When my adoptive mother ran away,” Moxie said quietly, “she left a note that asked a question—‘Isn’t there something better than this?’ I think I finally have an answer.”

  Kate and Jo waited.

  “To be loved. To feel productive. To be happy.” Moxie took a sip of tea and sighed. “It’s a blessing. Is there anything better?”

  “Maybe,” Kate conceded, sipping her tea as well. “But if there is, I’m in no hurry to run off to try to find it.”

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  ISBN: 978-1-4268-1445-7

  THE BAREFOOT BELIEVERS

  Copyright © 2008 by Luanne Jones

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