to believe the date is almost here. I’d been certain for so long that I would never marry.”
“That’s something we used to have in common.” Steph tried to sound lighthearted, but she feared she failed.
“I know.” Molly’s excitement faded.
Steph wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Don’t feel bad.
I’m happy for you, Molly, and I’ve never seen you happier.” She’d finally spoken the truth, and the tension lifted.
Molly eased to Steph’s side. “It just goes to prove that what we think and what God has in store don’t always go hand in hand.” She squeezed Steph’s arm. “You don’t know what He has planned for you.”
Molly and God. Steph wished she had the kind of confidence that Molly had.
A grin grew on Molly’s face. “Now, lest you think I’ve forgotten what we were talking about, I’m not moving until you tell me everything.”
“I have nothing to tell even if we can stay here all day.” Steph glanced toward the doorway, hoping the tailor would return to break into their conversation. “It’s a standoff. I’m hungry, and you promised me lunch, but I’m not going with you in that gown.” Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Talk to her. Don’t be stupid. But Steph couldn’t open her mouth. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” Her chest squeezed.
“Let me be the judge.” Molly folded her arms across her chest, resembling a bailiff in a wedding dress.
The picture made Steph laugh. “Okay, but let’s get our clothes on so we can leave. The dresses fit.”
“What’s his name? You never told me.”
“Nick. Nick Davis.”
Molly’s forehead wrinkled. “Nick Davis.” She pressed her index finger to her lips, then shook her head. “I’ve heard his name somewhere. Maybe Brent knows him.” She reached back for the zipper.
“Let me help you.” Steph turned her around, hoping the zipper would bring an end to the conversation.
But Molly twisted her neck and spoke over her shoulder. “Have you been on a date with him?”
A date? Steph was glad Molly couldn’t see her face. “If you call walking the dogs a date, yes.”
Molly slipped her arms from the gown. “Does he like you?”
“Yes, as a friend, but that’s fine. I’m not ready for anything serious.” Her mind flooded with dark thoughts. “First I have to learn to be more attentive to—”
“Stop blaming yourself, Steph.” The gown slipped from Molly’s body and pooled on the white cloth beneath her feet as she spun to face her. “Suicide is a selfish act. It leaves people asking themselves forever what they did wrong and what they might have done to make it better. Doug wanted to die for his own reason. You didn’t. You want to live, and it’s about time you did.”
Steph pressed the phone against her ear. Her fingers knotted around the receiver, and she forced her voice to sound normal, but tension had risen like a tsunami. “Why are you still living with Dad anyway, Hal? You two never got along.”
“That was before. We’ve been getting along until recently.”
She heard something in her brother’s voice that didn’t connect. Hal and her dad had a different set of ethics and values. They never were compatible. “What’s happened now?”
He didn’t respond.
“Are you working?” Steph pursed her lips, waiting to see how he’d wiggle out of that question.
“Why does everything revolve around that?”
A deep breath rattled through her lungs. “Answer me. Are you living off Dad again?”
“I don’t like your attitude, Steph. We haven’t talked in a long time. You’re my sister. I just called to see how you’re doing. I miss you.”
Since when? “I’m okay.”
“I thought maybe I’d come your way. You know, give Dad a few days’ break. Maybe then we’ll see eye to eye when I get back.”
She doubted that. Forget seeing eye to eye; her father probably preferred to see Hal’s hand with a paycheck. “Hal, I think before you visit anyone, you should spend time looking for work.”
“You don’t sound very—”
She lost the end of his sentence when the doorbell rang. Fred let out a yip as he scrambled to the door, flipping a scatter rug across the kitchen floor. “Hal, someone’s at the door. Hang on.”
Steph set the phone on the counter, wishing she’d said she was hanging up. As she approached the door, Fred tripped her, and she shot across the entry, one foot splaying on the hardwood and the other lifting in the air like a hornpiper’s jig. She whacked against the door, cringed and flung it open.
Nick’s mouth gaped. “Are you okay?”
She tried to grin, but she was sure it was a grimace. She beckoned him in. “My brother’s on the phone.” She headed back to the kitchen, keeping her eye out for Fred, with no need. She could hear him prancing around Nick’s legs near the door.
“Sorry, Hal. A neighbor dropped by.”
His deep sigh cut through the line. Steph listened to the silence, waiting.
“I’d better let you go. You have company.”
Her chest filled with air and she released it in one long stream. “All right, Hal, and good luck finding a job.” Her frustration had to be evident.
When she pulled the telephone from her ear, his last words struck her before she disconnected.
“I’ll see you soon.”
See her soon? She couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. When she turned, Nick stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Bad news?”
She forced her mouth into a pleasant expression. Nick looked great. The May sun had deepened his skin tone to a bronze tan, making his chiseled features even more attractive. “My brother called. He wants to come for a visit, but I know he wants a handout. That’s the only reason he’d come here.”
“If you’re having company, I can leave anytime if you have things to do.”
“He’s not coming today.”
He eyed her, and she sensed he was waiting for an explanation.
“He doesn’t live in Michigan.” She grew silent, thinking about Hal and what he wanted.
Nick remained quiet for a moment and studied her. “You’re absorbed in something.”
“Thinking about my brother. I wish I knew what’s going on.”
“Has he wanted a handout before?”
Memories flooded Steph—times when she convinced Doug to bail him out of a problem and other times she slipped him money rather than ask Doug. That was when she had money to squander. Hal’s loans were really handouts.
“I didn’t mean to meddle.”
Nick’s voice cut through her thoughts. His face filled with concern.
The look squeezed against her heart. “You’re not meddling. It’s nice to have someone to talk with.” She’d talked with Molly so often about her problems, the kind of fun talking like they’d done earlier that day. She winced, realizing how lonely she’d become without having Molly to herself. Today at the boutique had made the change all too vivid.
Nick was still leaning against the doorjamb, and Steph found her manners. “Let’s sit.” She motioned toward the living