

UNCONDITIONAL

Connie Keenan

Unconditional

By Connie Keenan

Copyright 2014 by Connie Keenan

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

MORE BOOKS BY CONNIE KEENAN

One Sweet Day

Greetings from My Sandy Dreams

More than Sparrows

The Christmas Waltz

Forever in My Heart

Champagne Taste

Glimmers of Heaven

Dimension

'Twas the Spy Before Christmas

The Cop & the Mermaid

Sea Siren (writing as Consuelo Vazquez)

CHAPTER ONE

The fact that the girl was pretty was a bonus. What had really caught Joshua Coleman's attention was seeing a pretty girl with a rod and reel in her hands, laughing and cheering as she brought up a fluke.

The first fish, I might add, he thought with a grin, that any of us has seen all day.

"Yes! Wheeeeeee! Look at him—he's a monster!" she shouted jubilantly.

Standing on the rocks beside him, his friend Elliot Bauer scoffed. Under his breath, the coward, so the girls couldn't hear him several yards away.

"A monster. Listen to her." Elliot rolled his eyes, pausing as he untangled his line. Again.

"Hey, it's bigger than the one you caught. Oh, yeah, that's right..." Josh drawled, snickering. "You haven't caught any."

"Yeah, well, neither have you, big shot." Cussing, Elliot drew his fishing knife and cut the line, rather than continue to fiddle with it. "Unbelievable. Losin' all this line. This is just a bad spot. We should move."

"Uh, okay, well, let's give it another hour, at least. They caught one, so let's try and be patient."

They could have moved, certainly. They should have moved. Truthfully, Josh was enjoying the view.

Because from that spot, he could see that little brunette, the girl who seemed to love fishing with her friend. That wasn't her first time going out, either; he could tell by the way she handled her rod, line and tackle box that she knew what she was doing.

He had just turned thirty, so he guessed she was younger, about twenty-five or twenty-six. Slim girl, must have spent a lot of time out in the sun, judging by her long legs and the rest of her, so lightly tanned. Wisps of her hair were straying from her ponytail, and she looked so cute in those denim cut-off shorts, a pink tank top and worn running shoes. With her pink cooler, she added feminine flair to the traditionally rugged sport of fishing.

"Here, you get it free, Valerie. I'm gonna mangle the poor fish," her friend advised, handing the catch back to her.

Valerie. Her name was Valerie. Josh saw an opening to get her attention.

"Nice, big fish. Good job!" he called out to her.

The cute, eye-pleasing fisherwoman was crouched down on that huge rock, gingerly pulling her hook out of the fluke's mouth. The task was getting fish blood on her hands. That would've been enough to gross out most young women, but Miss Valerie seemed to take it in stride.

Pretty and hardy. Talk about a catch.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Thanks," she said, turning her attention back to the fish.

"She's got a boyfriend," Elliot said.

"Now how would you know that?"

"Who do you think taught her how to fish?"

"I don't know. Maybe her dad. An ex-boyfriend. Maybe she learned by coming down here and watching other people. How'd you learn?"

"Same way you did. Your dad taught me." Wiping his chin on his sleeve, Elliot informed him, "Trust me: The lady's got a boyfriend. Girls like her are usually taken. Don't waste your time, man. She's out of your league."

"Thanks for keeping my ego in check." Josh felt a tug at the end of his line. "Ohhh—yeah, here it comes, that's what I'm talkin' about..."

The fish had been biting that morning, both off the rocks and off the pier. They'd been sneaky, too. Twice already they'd successfully stolen the bait right off both of their hooks. The current was also strong there, with the wake of the occasional passing boat deceiving both him and Elliot into thinking they'd caught a fish.

Less than a minute later, he was reeling up disappointment...in the form of a messy, large lump of seaweed dragged by his hook out of the water.

"I bet you can make sushi with that," Elliot suggested. "You know, wrap it around the sticky rice, or whatever it's called."

"Ah, shut up," Josh muttered good-naturedly. "I don't like sushi."

"Me, neither. They need to cook that stuff."

"Well, then it wouldn't be sushi." He had to laugh.

He happened to look to his right and saw the pretty brunette looking his way, her expression curious. As soon as their eyes met, she tore her gaze away. Then she threw back her rod before flinging the line and hook back out to the water.

"She does that wrong," Elliot remarked.

"Does what wrong?"

"She's casting wrong."

"Yeah, well, she's caught more than you and me both right now."

Once his hook was free, he dropped the lump of dark green seaweed to the water below, baited his hook and cast the line out again.

Josh feigned interest in a newish-looking cabin cruiser making its way through the canal to the open sea. He was actually discreetly watching his favorite fisherwoman as she fished and chatted with her friend.

She's out of your league. Elliot Bauer wasn't being mean, just his usual, brutally honest self. Valerie wasn't the kind of girl he typically dated, besides being more attractive than the girls in his past.

On the other hand, she had been checking him out. Very cool.

"Let me catch something, Lord, please," he whispered.

Unfortunately, whisper or not, Elliot heard him. His friend had just popped a rolled-up piece of chewing gum into his mouth.

"What're you, praying for fish now?" Elliot laughed embarrassingly loud.

"Yeah. Yeah, what's wrong with that?" But then Josh also laughed. "You don't think Peter prayed for fish?"

"I know he wouldn't have given up too easily, that's for sure!"

It felt good to be around Elliot Bauer again, even if his friend could be somewhat irritating and quirky. He was a good friend ever since the two had met in the seventh grade, and he'd stuck by Josh's side through those tough years that had passed during his high school years and early twenties.

It was Elliot, too, who'd helped him make the move from their hometown of Parsippany. Elliot who had helped him to make a fresh start there in South Jersey, with a place to stay and some work until he was able to get up on his own feet.

Those last several years after he'd gotten himself in trouble hadn't been easy. Still, that time, with its mistakes, was behind him. Josh looked out at the summer-blue sky and the amusement pier with the Ferris wheel silhouetted against the clouds. He breathed in the air that smelled of sea spray and July and freedom.

Then something tugged—hard—at the end of his line. Wildly, he started to reel it in.

"Whatcha got?" Elliot asked in true Jersey Boy-style.

"How about an answer to prayer, huh?" Josh tightened his grip on the reel. "Man, that's gotta be a Great White on that hook!"

"You'd better hope not. Don't fall in now," Elliot said and lowered his voice. "Otherwise, you'll give that cute mermaid over there a real show. A standup comedy show, that is."

He wasn't kidding. Heeding his advice, Josh steadied his weight on both legs, spreading his feet apart.

"Should we holler? Cheer?" his friend teased quietly. "Wheeeeeee!"

"Holler, cheer? Try calling the Coast Guard. I think I caught Jaws!"

All that commotion drew the girls' attention. Yes! Out of the corner of his eye he saw Valerie looking his way, holding her reel with one hand and shielding her eyes from the sun with the other.

"Jaws, ha!" Elliot was totally amused. "After all this, you'd better haul up a big one!"

He hadn't been fishing in such a long while. Then again, he hadn't been near an ocean in longer than he could remember, either. He had done some fresh water fishing, but earnestly speaking, he preferred fishing in the ocean. One thing a fisherman could never forget was the weight of a line, the way it changed as the catch was finally reeled out of the water.

"That's not a fluke," he heard Elliot say right before the fish came flying through the air, headed straight for him.

It took a moment before Josh realized he'd caught a sea robin, and a moment longer than that to notice the line had dragged the creature's spiny fins over his bare calf. Immediately, droplets of blood appeared in the two-inch long cut. Josh caught himself before he could sputter out a swear word.

"Is that—whoa! You are. You're bleeding!" his friend exclaimed loud enough for people to hear all the way in Cape May.

"It's okay. It's not a big deal, really..." He nearly dropped his rod as a stinging pain shot through his lower leg from the cut.

The girls had noticed. They'd stopped fishing and were staring at the guys.

"Great," Josh muttered. With nothing else to use, he pulled some paper towels off a roll they'd brought with them from the car.

"Was that the hook that got you?" Elliot asked.

"The hook—no. It was the fish."

"The fish? How do you get cut with a fish?"

"I don't know. Stupid thing is sharp. Sharp fins, I guess."

Carefully, the young women were making their way over to them. They'd set down their rods and Valerie was leading the way.

"You okay?" she asked.

How awkward, to stand there, bent at the waist and putting pressure on a wound made by a fish with a paper towel. Standing up straight and squaring his shoulders, he tried for a cool, macho man stance, not so easy under the circumstances. At the very least, he wanted to retain a shred of his pride.

"Uh—got cut up with a fish," he replied.

"Ah. A sea robin, I bet. Have to be careful with those." Valerie paused, licking her lips. "May I see?"

"You a nurse?" Elliot arched his eyebrows.

"No. I'm a clerk down at the library. But I've got some little cousins that get into scrapes all the time. Will that do?"

Though she was answering his friend's question, Valerie was looking at Josh. She gave him the most disarming, playful little grin, and he smiled in return.

"I think so. He's like your cousins, I guess. Josh gets into scrapes all the time, too."

Lord, please forgive me if I choke this guy after this, Josh prayed, trying to discreetly narrow his eyes at him.

Valerie's friend giggled at the remark, but Valerie was centering her attention on his wound.

"I don't think that's as bad as it looks," she said.

"No, neither do I," Josh agreed.

"No stitches, you don't think?" Her friend was as bad as Elliot.

"I don't know. You should clean it out. First, just keep applying pressure to it." She stood up straight. "I think you'll be fine."

"I think so, too. It sure hurts like—crazy."

Oh, man. That was close. Almost.

He'd been doing better at that. Before he'd accepted the Lord about seven years ago, he'd cursed a lot more, even when he wasn't angry. Occasionally, he still had problems with his language, too. Valerie hadn't seemed to notice, and if she had, she was pretending she hadn't.

"If you have a first aid kit," she started to say. "Or maybe you can clean it up there on the boardwalk, at one of the restaurants."

"I think I'll do that. I don't have a first aid kit. Unless...you do."

Was that rude? Maybe he shouldn't have asked. It was just that he could tell their impromptu encounter was coming to an end and he wanted it to last just a few more minutes.

"I don't." Tilting her head, she regarded him apologetically. "Um—well, I do. But it's in my car, and we drove down here in Kylie's."

"Oh. That's okay." Josh cleared his throat. "I appreciate your help anyway."

"Eh. Sorry I couldn't do more."

Sure enough, she was walking away. That made sense, after all. Valerie and her friend—apparently her name was Kylie—had interrupted their morning of fishing. He and she were strangers out there on those rocks. She'd done more than enough, stopping her fun to come to his assistance. Yet he found himself feeling disappointed, seeing her walk away.

"I guess I'd better go clean this off," he said, scratching his head. "You can stay here and fish, Elliot."

"Stay here? No, I'm coming with you. I don't want it on my conscience if you lose a few pints of blood on your way up to the boardwalk and pass out up there."

"Gee, thanks. You're a real prince of a guy." He had to laugh through a twinge of sadness.

A real prince of a guy. That had been one of his dad's expressions. Maybe it was true, that business about a son eventually becoming his father. That was something Josh wouldn't have minded at all.

"She kinda liked you, that pretty fishing lady," Elliot whispered softly on their way up to the boardwalk.

"Liked me? Yeah? Thought you said I was out of her league?"

"She is. Guess she's got bad taste in men."

Elliot's response to getting a friendly shove was a gentle laugh. "Hey, how come I never get sliced up by a fish? Cool way to get a cute girl's attention..."

****

It wasn't brand-new, but the secondhand violin was still better than the much cheaper one Valerie Welch had purchased off the internet two years earlier. That was the one she'd used for lessons and practiced. Now that she could play—a little, anyway—she was ready for that upgrade. And she'd had her eye on it now ever since the music store had displayed it in their window three months earlier.

It also wasn't a piano. That was what she'd wanted to buy for herself, initially. Actually, long before the violin had come into her life. Pianos, even used ones, were more expensive ventures. Even paying to properly move one could chop a nice chunk off her budget.

For the past few years the violin had intrigued her, sometime after she'd made the conscious decision to become a musician. Everyone played the guitar or the drums or the piano—but the violin? That was unique. Classical. Romantic. A bit on the Bohemian side.

"Case comes with it. And the bow's new," the salesman told her before returning to help another customer, one purchasing some sheet music.

Valerie liked that. He wasn't one of those lazy, disinterested salesmen. Not one of those hard-sell salesmen, either, which annoyed her. He'd left her alone with the instrument to think about it, and he'd hung around close by but not hovering, letting her know he was available to answer any questions she might have.

Though her only question was one the man couldn't answer for her. She hadn't saved up enough money to buy the violin. She had tried, bringing her lunch to work instead of eating out and cutting other corners where she could. Still, not enough. She'd shopped there enough to know the Musical Note Store wasn't into haggling, either. Once a price was set, they could lower it eventually, if an item failed to sell. But haggle with a customer? Not in Valerie Welch's lifetime.

"Can I pay part of it in cash?" she asked. "And put the balance on my credit card?"

"Sure can." The bearded man, who was about her dad's age, smiled. "We can do that for you."

Ouch. Said balance on the fiddle was seventy-five dollars, plus whatever New Jersey sales tax came to on it. She had just paid down most of that Visa, too. So much for getting ahead financially.

But her uneasiness was instantly replaced by her joy at seeing the salesman close up the case and write its bill of sale. She pulled her wallet out from her purse and leaned against the counter.

"I still can't believe I know how to play that thing," Valerie said with a little girl-style giggle.

"Really? When did you start taking lessons?"

"About four years ago. I've been using this little fifty-dollar violin I bought online. I guess I should've bought a new one sooner, but that served me well."

"I'm sure, but it definitely sounds like you deserve an upgrade. Not because I'm just trying to sell you this one, either. But you don't know how many adults I see come in here to sign up for musical lessons. Six months, if that, they last. Then it's more of a commitment than they were ready to make."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." She received her credit card back from his hand and signed the machine with the attached stylus. "I almost quit a few times, too. Now I'm glad I didn't."

"And that's why you deserve this one. Because you hung in there. You earned the right to play this new one." Grinning, he handed her the receipt. "Hope it brings you many years of beautiful music, Miss Welch."

You hung in there. You earned the right to play this new one.

Those words had touched her heart, warming her inside as she walked out onto the street with the purchase she'd spent months saving up for. True, she could have waited a little longer to buy it, avoiding that charge on her credit card. By then, the beautiful violin might have disappeared from the store window, ending up in the hands of some other musician.

And that's what I am now, Lord. I'm a musician. Thanks to You, Jesus!

From the Musical Note Store to her apartment was a short, pleasant walk. That small town, Hathaway, was a ten-minute ride from Wildwood, and that was just as well. Originally from Cliffside, up there in Northern Jersey, her mother had at first been a little leery about living too close to the ocean. Yet her mom had moved there shortly after her divorce from Valerie's father.

Valerie couldn't have agreed more with her mom. She'd seen the danger a N'oreaster could bring to a seaside town on the news. Homes destroyed, even carried out to sea by storm surges and waves, like what had happened during Hurricane Sandy and storms out in Long Island.

Hathaway was close enough to the beach, in her opinion. From what people at work and church had told her, there was a time there hadn't been much in that little town. Then came the 1980s...and the developers.

It had taken nearly a decade to get the place to where it was now: a fun little town with a winding, mile-long river walk, trendy restaurants and shops, all of which attracted both locals and tourists.

She had one more stop to make before heading home. Her apartment building was four blocks away on Juniper Street. First, she stepped into Beach Port Coffee. Kylie McCoy was finishing up with a customer when she saw Valerie walk in through the door.

"You got it?" her best friend called out to her.

"Got it. I couldn't wait!" she confessed.

"Ooooh, how cool. Give me a minute, Val. Be right with you."

"Take your time."

The only thing Valerie Welch didn't like about Beach Port Coffee was how hard it was to walk out of there without buying something. As soon as a customer walked in, the aroma of the fresh coffee beans greeted them. Large canvas sacks filled with beans were to the right, each marked with a card bearing the description of the blend contained there. French roast, Vienna roast, Cuban espresso, Italian espresso, and others. By far the most expensive in the shop was the Kona from Hawaii.

To the right were the old-fashioned espresso pots, some dainty demitasse cup sets, and a rack with coffee-themed greeting cards. Towards the rear was the Joe Bar, where customers could buy a single, to-go cup of coffee, adding either artificial sweetener, real sugar, raw sugar, and/or anything from two percent fat milk and soy to full-fat cream.

"Let me see," Kylie prompted the moment her customer walked out with her cup in hand. "Oh—want a cup?"

"I'd love one but it's too close to dinner. I never have coffee before dinner. It'll kill my appetite."

"Yeah, me, too." Her best friend rolled her eyes and laughed. "Nothing helps me on that. I could have a whole pot of coffee and still have dinner. Hey, the salad and dessert, too. And later, chips. Oh—ohhhhhh, Val!"

"I know, I know. And by the way, stop putting yourself down. You're the most gorgeous girl I know."

"Eh! Shhhhuuurre." Kylie waved a hand in the air, then accepted the violin from Valerie with both hands. "I'm just high maintenance. I'm still fat. But enough about me—this thing is beautiful, Val."

High maintenance. That was true, in a way, though Valerie didn't think of Kylie that way. True, she was, in her own words, OCD about getting her hair and nails done. Other than on days like the other morning when they'd gone fishing, she rarely wore denim or T-shirts, let alone sneakers. But that was because she took her job as the assistant manager of Beach Port Coffee seriously. Her accessories were always perfect, and so was her makeup, and she really knew how to "work it," as another of their friends loved to say.

Yet Kylie never passed up the chance to criticize herself for her size 14 figure. Like that made her any less beautiful or any less wonderful a person and sister in the Lord.

"I spent a little more than I'd planned to," Valerie admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah...and? It's not every day you buy a violin, you know."

"I know. Just plumping up my credit card again."

"So make sure you pay it off with what you earn with She Likes the Weather at your concerts first. Before you do anything else with it. You can do that. You have good self-discipline."

"Good idea. That's what I'll do. So you like it?"

"I love it. We going to Girl's Night Out this week? You, me and Dawn?"

"But of course! We'd have to have a national emergency to call off Girls' Night Out."

As Valerie laughed and carefully placed the instrument back into its case, she heard the door opening and closing behind her. Another customer had stepped into the shop.

"I'll let you get back to work," she told Kylie.

"Okay, but before you do..." Folding her arms on the counter, she leaned forward and whispered, "Guess who walked in today?"

"Don't know. Somebody interesting?"

"You might think so. Your fisherman, the one who got cut up by a ferocious sea robin."

To her chagrin, Valerie did find that news interesting, though she pretended to only find it vaguely entertaining.

"Sure it was him?"

"Oh, it was him, all right. He recognized me first, so you know he's observant. I didn't even say a word to him that morning. Came in to have a regular cup of coffee. Cream and sugar, so he's kinda old school."

Valerie laughed. "That must make me old school, too. I take my coffee like that."

"So do I. I tried that soy stuff. Not for me. Anyway, we got into a little convo. Just small talk. He said he appreciated your help that morning and told me to pass that on to you. Asked what your name was."

"Hope you didn't give him any more information than that."

"Don't be silly. I wouldn't do that. He says he works construction right now with his friend, and..."

Kylie always did that for dramatic effect, pausing for a looooong moment, during which she pulled lint off her blouse and studied her nails. That habit tested Valerie's patience.

"You can't wait too long to build the drama. You've got a customer," she reminded her.

"Eh, she's browsing right now. I could kill you with suspense and nobody would notice."

Groaning, Valerie bowed her head and lifted it again. "Aaaaand? Just spill it, woman."

"Aaaaand he says he's going to Lakeside Church."

Valerie masked her disappointment. "So? I go to True Vine Gospel."

"So you can't go visit Lakeside?"

"Not to see some guy I don't even know, no."

"Even a cute guy? One who looked at you like you were the last Coca Cola on the beach?"

"Hey, nice saying! Not true, but nice."

"Thanks. I'd love to claim it's an original, but, nah. Heard it a long time ago in a movie."

Out of the corner of her eye, Valerie spotted the customer, a middle-aged woman, stepping in line behind her. She took the violin case by its handles.

"I'll let you get back to work, Ms. High Maintenance Assistant Manager," she said.

"Whatever, dude. See ya Friday, my little musical prodigy. Oh—and in case you're wondering, the fisherman's name is Josh Coleman."

Valerie shrugged. "I wasn't. But you're very thorough. Must be your OCD acting up again."

Josh. Simple, strong name, not something romance novel-y, just real guyish. If anyone could be called the last Coca Cola on the beach, it was him. Because he was pretty cute. The way he'd gazed at her at one point, too, had sent that familiar tingle through her.

But earlier that week, Zed had called. Out of the blue, after months of not seeing each other. She could have almost believed he'd fallen off the face of the earth.

He'd done more than just called. He'd called and cajoled and charmed and apologized. He'd sounded teary as he pleaded for her to see him again, "Just one more time, okay, baby? Please."

Valerie was almost over him. Almost. She really should have said no. Really, though, how could she do that? Zed was only asking for one date. After all those years together, she couldn't very well turn him down, now could she?

They deserved one more chance together. Even if it didn't work out, as it hadn't in the past, she had to give their relationship one last chance. Because, bottom line, deep down, she still loved Zed O'Neill.

Not that she would share that news with Kylie. She knew better, what with the way Kylie felt about Zed and how he'd hurt Valerie in the past. Valerie had hurt him, too, but of course, Kylie didn't account for that. Best friends never were the most objective people when it came to a situation like that.

Five years they'd been together, she and Zed. On and off, but still. Five years couldn't be thrown away that easily.

Not even for a good-looking, blue-eyed, tall, cool drink on the beach.

CHAPTER TWO

"You know, the thing is with guys like him, you gotta settle things the old-fashioned way." Aaron Dunovant was saying as he fidgeted with a measuring tape. "Give me five minutes with him. We got a problem, him and me? Five minutes. Problem solved."

Josh kept his attention riveted to his work, which at the moment was helping another worker to put up drywall. He knew those words—and the threat attached to them—had been spoken specifically about him. Dunovant stood with his legs spread apart, fixing a strong glare on Josh.

Lord, please help me to let that roll off my back, he prayed silently. I can't afford to get into a fight with him. I fight, I lose my job. Period.

Luckily, the foreman, Steve Cipriani, passed by right then.

"Coffee break, fellas?" he asked. "If not, let's get back to work, all right? Not getting paid to drink lattes and shoot the breeze here."

"Okay. Sorry about that, boss."

Evidently, the apology wasn't very sincere. The minute the foreman turned his back, Dunovant mouthed a cuss word at him.

Aaron Dunovant didn't like him. Why, Josh had no idea, since he'd never done or said anything to the guy. Elliot swore it had to do with the fact that Josh, even being new, was well liked by most of the guys on the crew. Dunovant, to put it bluntly, was thought of by the crew as a bit of a jerk.

I'm not here to make friends, just so you know, Dunovant had told Josh when he was first hired for the job. I come in, do my job, get my paycheck, and I'm outta here.

Josh had assured him that he wasn't there to make friends, either. But that was contrary to his nature. Even before he accepted the Lord, he'd always been a friendly guy. His personality was amiable, and people were easily drawn to him.

"So we can count on you tonight? You and Elliot?"

He was still working on the drywall, using the nail gun, but turned to face John Delvecchio, who everybody just called Del.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, I'll be there. That's the place down by the beach, right?"

"Yeah, it's just a little dive. Not too expensive." Del shrugged. "Burgers are great, though. Drinks are cheap. They got live music Friday night. Girls that hang out there are hot."

Josh chuckled. "Ah, well, I'll be there, then."

"Cool. Looks like it's you, me, Elliot, Sonny, and Manny. Be there at seven. Whoever gets there first gets the table for everybody."

"That'll probably be me and Elliot."

"Great. See ya tonight."

Seven. That was later than he usually ate dinner, but he could always grab an apple or something to munch on ahead of time. Elliot would probably drink with the guys and Josh would have an iced tea or something.

Girls that hang out there are hot.

That was his real reason for going—besides hanging out with his friends.

Maybe Valerie will be there tonight. That'd be nice, Lord. Actually, that'd be more than nice. It'd rock if she was there.

His prayer was interrupting by Elliot stepping up beside him. He was wearing his work boots and gloves and pushed his safety helmet up further on his head.

"Now the lady from the medical office is saying," he reported in a low voice, "that that's not the counter they wanted for the reception area. I love these people, don't you, Coleman?"

Clicking his tongue, Josh agreed. "That's what was in the plans. They wanna change it now, they gotta pay."

"Uh-huh. Hey, you think your girlfriend's gonna be there tonight?"

"I got a girlfriend? That's news to me."

"Wise guy. You know who I'm talking about."

"This is the Jersey shore. It's a big place. I doubt we'll see each other again."

"You saw her friend, didn't you? At the coffee place? What's her name, Kylie? So what's to stop Valerie from showing up at the Wave Crest?"

"That'd be great. But she's out of my league...according to you."

"You are, but we've already established the lady has bad taste in men." He patted Josh's back. "Hope she shows up."

"If she does, she does. I haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, no? Well, just in case, you'd better move fast. Before Del does. You've never been out with him before. This'd be your first time. Guy's a ladies' man."

Elliot was stepping away and Josh was stepping back to collect his tools. From behind him he felt a hand on his back, then a rough shove forward.

"Watch where you're going," Aaron snarled.

Josh's expression darkened. Elliot moved in closer to him, protectively.

"Forget it, ignore this big goofball," he told Josh.

Dunovant glared at him. "Who you callin' a goofball, you skinny little scarecrow?"

Josh stepped between them and squared his shoulders.

"Do me a favor, Dunovant. Don't ever put your hands on me again," he ordered.

"Or what?"

Dunovant's mouth pulled into a smirk. He was about Josh's height, maybe twenty pounds heavier. Behind him, Josh heard his friend telling him to back off, to stop before going any further.

"Or we can take this to the boss," he replied.

"Take it to the boss?" Dunovant repeated, making his voice an octave higher, girlish. "Really? You don't wanna handle this like a man? I thought you were a tough guy. How'd you make it through prison without being tough?"

Lord, I don't want to go into all that with him. I don't know how he found out about that and I don't want to know right now. Help me before I get myself in trouble.

"Just leave him alone, man," Elliot told him.

"'Be at peace with all men.'" Swallowing hard, Josh added, "I don't know the exact scripture, but that's what I'm trying to do right now. 'Be at peace with all men, if at all possible.'"

"Oh. What's that? The Bible?"

"Yeah. I kinda mangled that scripture, but that's the gist of it. Pretty much."

Dunovant was staring back at him as if trying to figure out how to respond to those words.

"Okay, so you're one of those Bible guys," he said finally. "Buncha hypocrites, from what I've seen. That's right. Anyway, Jesus Boy—you wanna try to be at peace with me? Then staying outta my way. 'Cause if you don't, I guarantee it's not gonna be very peaceful for you."

Josh made a noise in the affirmative. Right then he was struggling inwardly, mentally sizing up his opponent.

I could take him. Very easily, Lord. I can flatten him.

That was his pride talking. Certainly, it was true. Aaron Dunovant wouldn't fare quite as well as he assumed in a fight with him. Still, Josh knew just how dangerous one moment of satisfaction could be, so he passed on it.

And he said nothing. He only stood his ground, tall and straight. Dunovant moved on, seemingly more unnerved by Josh's silence than he let on.

"He thinks he won that round," Elliot murmured.

"He did. By his standards." With a nod, Josh returned to his work.

Not by Yours, Lord.

****

Meeting the guys at the Wave Crest at seven actually didn't work out too badly. That gave Josh a chance to head home, feed his dog Lorelei, shower, and change. On his way out he grabbed an apple, which cut his hunger slightly on the drive to the restaurant.

His home was small, just a one bedroom apartment close to Hathaway's main street. Before moving down the shore he'd bought his cousin's 2006 Jeep, which wasn't a bad deal at all. There was a ding on the rear passenger door—courtesy of some inconsiderate driver at one of Northern Jersey's shopping malls—that his cousin had never gotten fixed. Plus, he'd had to replace all four tires. Other than that, the Jeep got him around town just fine.

The live band wouldn't be onstage until seven-thirty. In the meantime, the house DJ played music, a blend of contemporary and music from the 70s, 80s and 90s for the mixed ages of the clientele.

Elliot had met Josh at the door, and the other guys had drifted in within fifteen minutes after that. They were perusing the menu and deciding on sharing a couple orders of Buffalo wings as appetizers when a twenty-something with hair longer than her skirt came up to their table.

"Hey, if you're a good boy, I'll let you buy me a drink later," she purred to Del.

Josh noted the other guys, including Elliot, looking on with a bit of envy. Del laughed and patted the girl's waist.

"Yeah, like you're a good girl? Where you been hiding, Amber?" He winked at her.

"Not hiding. Just haven't been down to the shore in too long." The young woman, balancing her slender figure expertly on those stiletto heels, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the mouth. "I missed you, Del."

"Yeah, I missed you, too, baby."

"So I'm with my friends right now—"

"Yeah, me, too."

"—but come get me after. 'Kay? Come dance with me."

"I'll come get you, Amber. Right after dinner. You're my dessert."

As soon as the girl shimmied away, Elliot rolled his eyes.

"'You're my dessert,'" he mimicked his friend. "Cor-ny."

"So I guess we'll be here for a while," Josh said, grinning.

"No. No, listen..." Del clasped a hand onto Josh's shoulder. "Soon as we can, let's eat up. We gotta get outta here."

Manny Rosario's eyes widened. "But what about your dance? Buying the Dessert a drink?"

"The dessert's a psycho. She's a psycho. I'm telling you, guys, she's crazy. She's insanely jealous. I can't stay here."

"She really wants you, huh?" Elliot pursed his lips, slyly looking in the woman's direction. "Can't want you too much if she's over there, sharing the super nachos plate with the girls, instead of here with you."

Josh remembered what Elliot had said about Del being a ladies' man and laughed with the other guys. The waitress came by to take their orders for drinks and dinner, collected their menus, and hurried off.

"We can go to a club after this," Sonny suggested. "Volcano Island is fun, usually. Lots of bennies looking to meet guys and drink."

"My kind of place," Manny agreed.

A benny. That was the South Jersey not-so-nice term for out-of-towners. If Josh recalled correctly, it stood for Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark or New York.

The bennies were typically fun, because they would party with the locals for a night or two—or sometimes the entire duration of their vacation. It would rarely become serious, unless the couple cared enough about each other to carry on a long-distance relationship. Long, as in, the distance from Wildwood to Kearney or Jersey City.

Mostly, it was for fun. Some drinks, some laughs, some intimacy between strangers. No strings attached.

Josh wouldn't have minded that before, back when he was younger, and before he became a Christian. Now he wanted something more. Deeper.

"You don't drink at all?"

The question had come from Sonny as Josh was taking a sip of his Sprite. That question seemed to come up every time he was with a crowd.

"Tell you the truth, I never liked the taste of liquor," he explained.

"Beer, too? Wine?"

"Nah, neither. I only drank in the past because, you know, my friends were drinking, so I did it, too. Not a good reason to do it. Why pay for something I really don't want?"

"Ah, so you don't feel peer pressure with us," Del teased.

Josh smirked. "No, not from you guys."

"But I'd bet you'd buy her a drink, right?" Manny asked.

"Who?"

"Her. That girl looking at you. Try not to be too conspicuous, but she's right over there in that dress with all those flowers on it."

A benny was staring at him? Josh turned in his seat. Then he drew in a sharp breath out of surprise.

There, several feet away, standing near the musicians who'd walked in, was Valerie. She was looking intently, directly at him. When their eyes met, she hastily yanked away her gaze and Josh swirled around in his chair.

Too late. Elliot had also seen her.

"Ohhh. That's his girlfriend." He leaned in closer to Sonny and confided, "She likes to fish."

"She likes to fish? No way. And she looks like that?" Sonny turned to Josh. "I hate you."

Josh threw up his hands. "She's not my girlfriend."

"No? Looks like she's like to be." Del nodded in her direction. "Unless one of those guys is her boyfriend. Apparently, she's in the band."

"Wow. I guess that makes you a groupie," Elliot said. "But Del's right. Maybe she's one of the musicians' girlfriend."

"Yeah. Maybe." Josh swallowed hard.

How disappointing that would be.

When he thought it was safe, he turned and stole another glance at Valerie. If she'd caught his eye in shorts, she was even more stunning in a form-fitting dress that was shorter in the front than in the back, the fabric's print floral, tropical, festive. Her long hair fell loose and wavy around her shoulders, and on her feet she wore a pair of sandals with heels just high enough to give her walk a flirty sway. She was wearing enough makeup to accentuate her large brown eyes and her pretty, highly kissable mouth. Her complexion was creamy, lightly tanned, her entire manner so sweetly feminine.

That time when she looked at him, neither of them looked away. She smiled first, then he did, too. Josh hesitated for a moment before rising to his feet.

"You gonna talk to her?" It was a question, but also more of an encouragement from Elliot.

"Yeah. She made the first move last time. I'm going up to her and saying hi."

Behind her, his friends were whispering words of encouragement behind him.

"Offer to buy her a drink!"

"Ask her what time she gets off."

"Better yet, invite her fishing!"

The last suggestion was from Del, and it was a pretty good suggestion, at that.

Hi. That was all he wanted to say to her.

But what if one of those guys really is going out with her?

If one of those four guys was involved romantically with her, he'd know now. Body language seemed to be conveying the contrary. The drummer had already taken his place...the bass player was tuning his instrument...the guy at the organ was standing at the keys and getting his music together.

The guy with the guitar watched Josh approaching and stepped aside. He then turned his attention to checking the microphone.

"Just wanted to say hi," he greeted her.

"Oh—I thought that was you. Hi." She giggled shyly. "Kylie said she saw you. You're Josh, right?"

"That's right. Josh Coleman. And you're Valerie."

"Valerie Welch," she clarified.

Smiling, he thrust his hands into his pockets. "And you're with the band."

"Yes. I guess I am!" she exclaimed, as happily as if she were announcing she'd won the lottery. "We call ourselves She Likes the Weather. Josh, how's your leg?"

"My leg? Oh, that's a lot better. One little cut won't stop me from fishing."

"Of course not. It would take a lot more than that to stop me, too."

He smiled but hesitated. That was his opening. The perfect opening, in fact.

Want to go fishing with me, pretty lady? The words were there. Caught at the back of his throat, but they were there.

"So you play the violin?" he asked instead. "Or is it called the fiddle?"

"Yes, I play it. And it's called both. Depends on a few things. I call it my violin, though." She set the case down on a speaker. "This one's new. Well...new to me. You want to see it?"

"Sure. I'd like to see to see that."

The violin, to his relief, helped her to open up and talk. Listening to her relaxed him.

"I just started playing about four years ago," Valerie told him.

"That's all? And already you're a professional?"

She smiled at the last word and removed the beautiful instrument and its bow from the case.

"Well, I'm not ready for Carnegie Hall or anything like that. But I earn a little money with She Likes the Weather. That's our band. I play on a few of the songs, or if it doesn't call for a violin, I play the tambourine. Sing backup. And I do solos at church."

Church. Another opening, maybe even better than fishing.

"You must be very talented to do all that," Josh said softly.

"I don't know about that. I was supposed to learn how to play the piano. My mother bought me a piano when I was a baby. She wanted me to learn how to play it later on, when I got older.

"Except then my parents got divorced. My dad kept the piano and gave it to my half brother. But that was my piano..." She shrugged. "Long story, I guess. Probably more than you asked for."

He shook his head, grinning at her. "No, it's interesting. Go on."

"Well...I guess it always bothered my mom that my dad gave away my piano. It was her idea, because she'd always wanted to play the piano herself and never learned. So I promised her I'd learn how to play one day. Only...well, somehow I ended up playing the violin. And to be honest, I love it more than I could ever love the piano."

"That's what matters. 'Whatever you do, do it unto the Lord.'" He chuckled. "I'm not very good at quoting scripture, but—"

"That's close enough. Good scripture, too. It fits." Valerie held the violin to her chest and the bow at her side, regarding him shyly. "I haven't been walking with the Lord for a long time. I just accepted Him about five years ago."

"Oh. I accepted the Lord about that long ago, too. Seven, I think. But I've been walking closer with Him—sincerely living for Him—for about a year and a half now."

Was she surprised? That was how he interpreted her expression, and he was encouraged by her slow smile.

"We have movie night at the church I go to," he told her. "The next one is this coming Friday. You're welcomed to come. We start at seven."

"Ah. What movie are they showing?"

"I think it's called The Encounter. I've never seen it. Our pastor says it's good, though."

"Well, maybe you'll see me there—"

"Hey, Val! Sorry I'm late."

Coming in like a whirlwind from behind him was a man who wasn't too much taller than Valerie. He was older, though—six, maybe seven years older. He brushed past Josh to greet her with a quick kiss straight on the lips.

"Oh, Zed—that's okay," she blurted. She glanced at Josh, then directed her attention back to the other man. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Well, I wasn't sure...but I'm here now." The man was dressed casually, as if he'd just come from work. He regarded Josh curiously before greeting him with, "How're you doing?"

"Good. Yourself?' Josh forced a smile.

Possessively, the guy draped an arm around Valerie's shoulders. His smile dissolved into a smirk.

"Doing good...now." Again he kissed Valerie, this time on her forehead. "I'll go get a drink. And I'll get us a table. Okay?"

"Okay, Zed."

Was that wishful thinking on Josh's part, or had he heard just a touch of irritation in Valerie's sigh? Suddenly, he felt awkward, out of place, that uncomfortable feeling one felt when they fell into a swimming pool while fully clothed.

"Well, anyway," he stammered, "I'll let you get back to your—uh, concert."

"All right." Valerie licked her lips, also appearing rather uncomfortable. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Yeah. You, too."

When he turned, he noticed her boyfriend—or whoever he was—leaning against the bar and staring at him before tearing his stare away.

"Maybe I'll see you on Friday," she told him before he walked away.

Josh nodded. "Sure. Hope to see you there."

She's not coming. She's just saying that to be nice.

All the way back to his own table, he hoped the guys hadn't been watching. He felt foolish, remembering Elliot's teasing words: She's out of your league.

But that other guy—what was his name again?—he wasn't all that good-looking, either. He was older, maybe he had a little more cash, judging by the ring and watch he was flashing.

Still, he's shorter than me. And he's kinda scrawny. That was petty of him, but he could barely help himself.

When he sank back into his seat, trying to pretend like he was fine, Elliot leaned in closer to him.

"She's got a boyfriend, huh?" he whispered. "Ah, I'm sorry about that, buddy."

Glumly, Josh drank his soda and watched from that distance as Valerie joined the band on the stage. She readied her violin, seeming rather cautious about letting her gaze drift from the microphone in front of her. He managed to smile through his disappointment.

"It's okay. Just a girl. There's other fish in the sea," he told his friend, "like my dad would say."

CHAPTER THREE

"I'm gonna be your mom," Valerie Welch remembered Kylie announcing recently, "when I grow up." As if one Linda Cuthbertson wasn't enough.

It wasn't that she didn't have a good relationship with her mother, because she did. Valerie adored her mom, who at times could be the most fun and friendliest person at a party. She was also, at fifty-two, more stylish and comfortable in her own skin than most twenty- and thirty-somethings Valerie knew.

And if Linda ever came to the realization that her daughter was twenty-five and not fourteen anymore, then those rough patches they still went through together would have been smoothed out beautifully.

Once a week, depending on their schedules—because Linda's was sometimes even fuller than her daughter's—they would go out to dinner together. Her mother, who was an office manager in a dentist's office close by, usually picked her daughter up at the library. Linda usually stopped off on the avenue to window shop, arriving on time.

Anytime she arrived early, Valerie knew her mother was up to something.

"I'm never reading this author again," Linda said, surprising Valerie by appearing at the end of one of the fiction aisles like a seagull landing on the beach out of nowhere. She held the book up in one hand, letting it totter at a dangerous angle, as if it were covered with mud. "Seven hundred pages. First three hundred? Gripping. Last four hundred? Good Lord, what a mess! Guy took ten pages to describe a strawberry dish towel. Seriously?"

Valerie smiled and kissed her cheek. "Hello to you, too, Mom. I've had that happen, too. So you're returning it?"

"I have to. It's either that or gouge my eyes out."

Her daughter giggled and pointed to the long counter near the library's main entrance when her mom tried to hand her the book.

"Take that up there, Mom. They'll check it back in for you."

"Oh, yeah. There's a long line up there. I thought maybe my good daughter would...well, never mind." Mom was teasing. Sort of. She clutched the oversized tome to her chest. "Ah, so where are we going for dinner? Want to try that new place, Lotus Flower?"

"Hmm, yes. I like the name."

"Restaurant names can be deceiving. I don't think this place is, though. Got a nice write-up by my favorite foodie bloggers online. Nice ambiance, great food, Asian-fusion. Whatever that is."

"Watch out, Mom." Valerie waited until her mother backed up a step to gently push the book cart forward. It was the end of the day and she had just enough time to return that small stack of books to their proper shelves. "I'll be done in fifteen minutes, okay? You want me to stop off at home and change?"

"Stop off? No, honey, I think you look fine. I like that dress, actually. Really cute. There are much more pressing matters we need to talk about tonight. Like..." The corner of her mother's mouth twitched as she adjusted the strap of her Coach tote on her shoulder. "...why on earth you would ever let Zed O'Neill back into your life? But, like I said, we'll talk later."

Valerie froze, one hand poised with a book on a shelf, the other grasping the metal cart's handle. She watched her mother taking a few steps backwards, then disappear to the right. Linda Cuthbertson was, and always had been, an attractive woman, but now she seemed to almost have the persona of an actress in a play. She was wearing dark denim jeans and wore them with panache, since she'd paired them with a black, clingy top, over which she'd worn a gold, brown and green satin shawl cinched at the waist by a brown leather belt. Completing the outfit was bling—cosmetic bling, because her mother didn't buy real jewelry for herself, but hey, bling was bling—in the form of an array of necklaces and bangles dangling from her wrist. Her hair, which she permanently wore short now, was now a subtle, light ash shade of blonde.

Why on earth would you ever let Zed O'Neill back into your life? So that was the question du jour.

That meant dinner wasn't going to be quite as much fun as Valerie had hoped.

Even though it was Friday, the day the library allowed their employees to wear jeans, she had woken up and pulled on that breezy, maxi-length, paisley dress instead, the one with the rounded collar. Together with her floppy black hat and low black leather sandals, plus her own bangle-y bracelets, it had given her that just-so-Boho look that she loved. It would be cool for a hot Jersey summer evening, a night out on the town with her mom.

But now discouragement crept in. Because, if she knew her mother, and she most certainly did, Mom wasn't going to be popping open any nonalcoholic champagne bottles for her in celebration of Zed being back in the picture.

Then again, that just wasn't shaping up to be Valerie's week. Not after the little tidbit her coworker, a sweet, older lady named April, who attended Lakeside Church, which Josh Coleman also attended, had shared with her. Something upsetting about the new guy's past. To say she was disappointed was an understatement. It was hard, mentally, to connect him with his past.

Because she shouldn't have been dwelling on him, anyway. If she was serious about making it work with Zed this time, and she was, then she wouldn't have kept reliving those moments earlier in the week, when he'd come up to talk to her. The way he'd looked at her, the way those smiles of his had made her feel, like something new and intriguing that had made her heart skip a beat.

Zed. She couldn't let anything jeopardize what she had with him. Not her mother, who in spite of how much she drove Valerie crazy, meant well. Not some good-looking newcomer in her life, who'd looked so downcast when he realized she wasn't alone at the restaurant the other night.

That night, from that moment forward, it had been hard for her to concentrate on playing with the band. The stage was barely enough room for all of them, and both the drummer and Valerie spent the night being squished between the other musicians. She kept looking from Zed, who sat alone at a table, having his drink and waiting for her, and Josh, who sat with a bunch of his friends, all of them talking and laughing.

Now, in retrospect, she recalled what April had told her. That Josh might have looked innocent, but his past certainly wasn't. Up until then, she'd actually considered calling her mom to reschedule their dinner date, allowing her to grab a quick sandwich or something before heading over to the church for movie night...and some conversation with someone new and captivating.

Considering her life was complicated enough with her relationship with Zed, she opted against it. It was, after all, the wiser choice.

So why did she feel as if she were missing something?

****

After dinner, during a walk with her mother along the boardwalk, Valerie introduced her to her new violin. Mom had asked her to whip it out at the restaurant, which would have seemed so show-offy. There, with the beach and the ocean before them, it was more private. She took her time, playing a cover of Christina Perri's "Jar of Hearts."

They hadn't always lived close to the beach. Her mother had moved them there after the divorce, when Valerie was little. She could barely remember the home where she'd spent her toddler years, up there in an apartment on Staten Island. She did, however, recall hearing as a little girl, how her mother would tell people that if she couldn't get her daughter's piano back, at least she could give her the beach every day of her life.

Of all the things her mother had done for her, that was what Valerie appreciated the most. Even at night, with the sun asleep somewhere beneath the horizon, Wildwood was an amazing place. The salty scent of the ocean traveled on the winds that flew in over the sand.

There were, even at that hour, people on the boardwalk, people out on the sand. Elderly people getting ice cream from the concession stand, young couples pushing baby carriages and herding small children. An occasional runner out for a late jog. Music could be heard from the amusement pier, where the Ferris wheel cast multicolored lights against the sky set aglow by a velvety white full moon.

Some passersby had overheard Valerie playing the violin. She hadn't noticed a small circle gathered, keeping a respectable distance. She was aware of her mother, seated there on the other end of the bench, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back of the seat.

Mostly, she was lost in the song. Valerie loved how that happened. It took time, too. At the start, when she first began to play, it wasn't like that. She was too self-conscious, too focused on the notes and the strings, the way she held the instrument under her chin, the way she held the bow.

Still a long way from being an accomplished musician, she had learned enough—and practiced enough—that she recognized that moment of enchantment. That snippet of time when she was playing as much from her heart as from her head, when music flowed from her as something organic and spiritual.

At the end of the song she turned, smiling at the sound of applause offered by her impromptu audience. Her mother also applauded and closed in the space between them.

"So proud of my baby," Mom said in that low, rich voice of hers.

Setting the bow on her lap, Valerie scratched the back of her head.

"You don't think it was extravagant, what I spent?" She squinted.

"Extravagant? Honey, it wasn't that expensive. Besides, you really can play that beautiful thing. And you'll have it for years, to give people pleasure. And to the Lord, too."

Valerie shrugged. "I play in a band in a restaurant. Not even Christian music—"

"That's all right. 'Do all as unto the Lord.' Never put down your gift." Sternly, her mother wagged a forefinger in the air. "When you criticize your gift, you're also criticizing the Giver."

"I never thought of it that way. I just wish I could do something else with it."

"You make people happy with the violin. This is a very hard world, honey. A very hard life. And there's music out there that isn't beautiful and that doesn't lift the spirit. Both of those apply to you." Grinning mischievously, Linda added, "That violin is soooo...you. So much more than that silly old piano your half brother got."

Valerie laughed. She put the instrument and its bow back in its case.

"I think about the piano sometimes," she admitted.

"Really? I don't. Okay, well—maybe I did back then. I could've strangled your father back then for giving it to someone else." Linda shook her head. Her hair caught the light glowing down from a streetlamp on the boardwalk, making her red highlights glisten in all that blond. "But it doesn't matter anymore, honey. It served a bigger purpose that the one I'd intended for it."

"What do you mean?"

"Ahh, let's face it. If your dad and I had stayed together and I would have forced you to take lessons, it probably wouldn't have meant as much to you as that violin does now. I talked to your aunt, Gina, your dad's sister. She says your half brother hasn't touched the piano since he was fourteen." Her mother couldn't conceal that triumphant little glint in her eye. "But you actually get paid for your musical ability. And that's because you really are a musician. You can give someone an instrument and force them to learn. But that doesn't make them a musician. That's a little bit of wisdom from my friend, Drew Lingerfelt."

Valerie arched an eyebrow. "Hmmmm. Drew, huh?"

"No hmmmm about it, young lady. They call him Drew, but you know, his real name is Andrew. He's a friend." Her mother emphasized that last word. Though her lips were pulled taut, there was a smile under there, barely hidden. "He's a musician, too."

"Cool. What does he play?"

"The guitar. He's self-taught, too. Talented man. Talented and wise and—"

"Handsome?"

"Maybe. Some women might think so. I haven't really noticed." That long, drawn-out sigh of Linda's told her daughter that there was more to the story than she was letting on. Quickly, her mother shifted to another subject. "So please tell me Zed's not staying in your life. That he's only passing by. That you're not going to put your life on hold for him again."

Valerie figured it was too good to be true. They'd had a great time over dinner. Mother and daughter had shared some spicy shrimp in a fruity sauce appetizer before their meal arrived. They'd chatted and sipped sea in dainty cups while relaxing, spa-like music playing in the background. Zed's name hadn't come up once during their meal.

She should have known better than to think her mother would let the matter slide entirely.

"I don't know what's going to happen, Mom. We're just talking right now. He's—it's like he's courting me all over again."

"Courting? Where'd you get that word, a Jane Austen novel? Oh, baby..." Linda huffed out an exasperated laugh. "If you don't know how it's all going to go down, please, permit me. I've seen this rerun too many times. See, Zed's going to be as sweet as pie for a while. Two weeks, a month, two months, tops.

"Then he's going to go right back to his old ways. The Lone Ranger's gonna pull off his mask and underneath will be the same, old Zed."

"I know, Mom, but—"

"You know. I know you know. That's what I don't understand. And I don't want to come down on you and make you mad at me, Val. Look, let me just say one thing, and then I'll hold my tongue..."

Leaning forward, Linda folded her hands and took a deep breath, as if giving herself time to collect her thoughts. "Zed thinks of Zed. First. He never puts you first, Valerie. He's Prince Charming when he wants to be. He romances you. But, ultimately, Zed will never put you first. Never. He's like your dad. I don't see much of a difference between those two."

****

An apropos Bible verse came to Valerie as she slowed her 2010 Kia Optima in the parking lot behind Lakeside Church. She sat for a few minutes with the engine running and turned down the radio. The movie must have been in progress, because she could see the lights were on low in a few windows downstairs, but there was no singing or voices coming from the building.

As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.

She'd never been to Lakeside. Living in Hathaway since her childhood, she'd passed it now and then. A two-storey, red brick building, it sat beside Blue Violet Lake, serene and undisturbed, far enough away from the town and the hotels, motels and boardwalk in Wildwood. From what April had told her, it was comprised of a somewhat smaller congregation. What they lacked in number they made up for in enthusiasm and energy. Lakeside had quite a few outreach ministries for the benefit of the nearby communities that could have put some of the larger, flashier and less involved churches to shame.

Valerie cut the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. She recalled her conversation with her coworker, still dwelling on that Bible verse.

I don't want you to think I'm telling you this because I'm gossiping or because I'm trying to make you see Josh in a bad light. He hasn't been here that long, but from what I know of him, he's a very nice, very sweet young man. I just want you to be aware of...what he went through before he came to know Jesus.

Sighing, she stepped out of the car. She was annoyed at her mother, not April. For about a half hour, she'd had to listen to that familiar little sermon about how she should pray for guidance when it came to Zed, about being unequally yoked, about how this wasn't the first second chance she'd given him. Her mother had never been shy when it came to discussing Valerie's longtime, on-again, off-again boyfriend.

Yet the real reason she'd been irritated was because something was different this time. Could it have just been that more time than usual had elapsed since they'd been apart? In the past, she and Zed had spent months at a time without seeing each other. Even with him absent from her life, she'd pined for him. That was embarrassing to admit, but it was true. She had always believed that, despite the times he'd wanted "a little break" from their relationship because, as he said, "things are getting really heavy between us, and I'm just not ready for that, Val," that he would one day come to his senses and know, without a doubt, that he belonged with her.

Something had changed in the interim. Since the last time she'd seen him, something had changed. In her, not in him.

And now there she was, standing outside Lakeside Church, trying to decide whether or not to go in. Other than April and Josh, she knew no one else who attended the church. Even if she'd wanted to see the movie, it was most likely already in progress. If anything, she would be interrupting their movie night.

She was there because she wanted to see Josh Coleman. Another Mr. Wrong. Even worse, because this particular Mr. Wrong had a not-so-innocent past. Granted, he didn't look the part. He didn't look like the cowboy who wore the black hat in those old westerns her mom used to watch on TV. He looked like the guy who wore the white hat; the hero, not the villain.

She needed to go home. Really, though, what was the harm of going in? She could always say a quick hello to April—and yes, to Josh, too. It would take all of five minutes, probably even less. She could tell him the truth, that she'd gone out to dinner with her mother and hadn't been able to make it in time for the party. Unless, of course, she got inside and everyone was too wrapped up in the movie, and she could leave before even being seen.

As far as the east is from the west...

Drinking in a shaky breath, she walked into the church building. The sanctuary was beyond a pair of closed doors, and what sounded like a crowd talking was coming from the far end of the hallway to her right.

I just want you to be aware of...what he went through before he came to know Jesus.

Whatever he had been, Josh Coleman was a Christian now. It wasn't fair to judge him by his past, particularly when she didn't know him well enough for that. Entering the room, which looked like a large dining room that the church must have used for special dinners, Valerie saw that the movie was over. About seventy people had come to the event, and as was often the case in churches, people weren't just hurrying off, instead lingering to chat. She could smell the distinct aroma of buttery popcorn which must have been made to accompany the Christian moviegoers.

To her left, standing in a small circle of about five people, Josh stood. He was looking directly at her, having spotted her coming in through the door immediately. It was as if he'd been waiting for her all evening. She smiled and waved at him, supposing that would be it, that he would wave back politely and continue his conversation with his friends. Instead, she watched him excuse himself from the small circle and head toward her.

"Hey—you got here after all!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with a friendly smile. "But you're a little late. You missed the movie."

She took a tentative step toward him. How was she supposed to greet him? He also seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment before he pulled her in closer and wrapped her in his arms.

A hug certainly wasn't out of line. They weren't complete strangers anymore; this was the third time they'd seen each other. Except that wasn't like any hug she'd received from a friend in church. Automatically, her eyes had closed when her face had been pressed up against his shoulder, and she'd spent that moment breathing in the scent of his soap and shampoo, and enjoying the warmth of those strong, muscular arms. Respectfully, much to her chagrin, he ended the hug and dropped those arms from around her.

The movie. You missed the movie. Welcome back to earth, Valerie! she scolded herself.

"I was, um—was it good?" she asked, clumsily.

"Yeah, I—I think we all liked it." Josh chuckled. "I'm sorry you missed it."

"I am, too. But my mom and I had plans to have dinner together."

"Oh, that's okay. You just passed by to say hello then?"

"Yes. Just to say hi." Valerie thought quickly, finding the small lull in their conversation uncomfortable. "And I've never been here before."

"Ah, but you know April. You two work together," he pointed out.

"She told you?"

"Yes. She's not here tonight, though. I think she and her husband had dinner plans, too." He paused and cleared his throat. "You look very pretty tonight, Valerie."

And you look good, too. Good enough for another hug!

She smiled shyly. "Thanks. I guess I came really late because you're all just about wrapping up now."

"Yeah, and I'm going to be getting up early tomorrow, so I'm not staying very long after this. Going fishing tomorrow. Off the pier this time. You wanna come with me?"

This was it: the perfect time to let him know that there was nothing between them. That she wasn't looking for a boyfriend, that she was already involved in a serious relationship, sort of. It was complicated. Whichever the case, she wanted Josh Coleman's friendship and nothing more. That was the message coming across, loud and clear, from her head.

Her heart, which at the moment felt like it was doing back-flips and somersaults all over the place, was telling her a different story. She gazed back at him, dressed in his faded jeans and short-sleeved black T-shirt. Her eyes traced the cleft in his chin, his pronounced, high cheekbones, and his mouth, drawn into a half grin.

"Fishing?" she repeated.

"Yeah. Sounds good? Just you, me, and all those sneaky fluke. Let's make sure they don't get away. Nice way to spend a morning, huh?"

"Tomorrow? Off the pier?" While her mind was still processing the invitation and she was understanding that he was asking her out on a date, she replied, "Yeah. Okay."

His smile became even broader. There was a light in his eyes that she hadn't seen in other guys' eyes, and that included Zed's.

"All right. Cool. Let me get your number and I'll pick you up," he said.

"I could meet you there." That would make it less of a date, wouldn't it? If she took her own car?

"I'd rather be a gentleman and pick you up, but if you'd rather use your car, then that's not a problem, either."

"Well, the thing is...well, once a month, I go—I go do something. It's sort of volunteer work. I'd have to come home, shower and change, and then it's only for an hour, an hour and a half in the afternoon—"

"You do volunteer work? Really? That's fine. I can get you home in time to shower and all that."

Lord, how could that be true about him? What April said? In that moment, that fragment of time before her next words, she couldn't help but wonder.

The reply came to her heart, and she recognized that Voice: Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.

He said he wanted to be a gentleman. Her mom was always lamenting that young men didn't care to be gentlemen anymore, but then in fairness, she'd add that young women didn't always appreciate those gallant gestures, neither did they always care to comport themselves as ladies. Her generation, she said, had been different. Nevertheless, Josh hadn't been pushy about it, respecting her wishes, if she was more comfortable bringing her own car.

She decided to trust him. Bringing her cell phone out from the side pocket of her pink leather backpack, she told him, "Give me your number. I'll call you right now and you can call me in the morning, so I can give you my address."
CHAPTER FOUR

It was probably too early for that, and he knew he had to be jumping the gun and raising his father's hopes, but Josh made the call anyway on the drive over from his place to Valerie's that morning.

"Hey, Dad, you busy?" he began the conversation, talking on speakerphone and keeping his focus on the road.

"Never too busy for you, son." Clearly, his father's smile shone through those words.

"What're you doing? You busy today?"

"I'm just getting ready to go out and grab some breakfast. Thinking maybe that diner you and me always go to when you come up here to visit. I want an omelette this morning."

"Uh-huh. Going by yourself?"

"Yeah, you're not here to treat me to a meal."

Although he laughed, Josh felt a twinge of sadness. The thought of his father having breakfast by himself in a restaurant wasn't new, but often upset him. "I have some news for you."

"I've got some news for you, too."

"Yeah? Tell me yours first."

"No, tell me yours first," Dad urged.

"I met a girl."

"Did you really? That's great! She nice?"

"She's real nice. Well, you know, we're kinda new together, just starting..." And there's another guy involved, I think. He left that part out and went on. "But she's—I really like her."

"Oh, I'm so happy to hear that! Is she a Christian?"

"Yep."

"Even better!" On the other end, his father chuckled. "That makes a big difference in a relationship, especially when you're still forming one. So when am I meeting her?"

Before Josh could answer, the GPS's computerized female voice instructed, "Drive point four miles, then turn left onto Juniper Street..."

"Not yet, Dad. Soon, I hope."

"Well, all right. What's her name?"

"Valerie. Valerie Welch."

"Okay. Well, I'll be praying for you both. You going to church? Being fed spiritually?"

"Yeah, I'm lucky. I found a nice church here in town, Lakeside."

"Very good, thank God. Eating well, physically, too? Work going well?"

And staying out of trouble? Dad didn't ask that anymore. Josh sensed that question, in the past posed in a parent's worried tone, had been replaced by the one pertaining to church attendance.

"Eating good. Trying to, anyway. Work is going well, too. What about you?"

"1600 Juniper Street, ahead on right."

"I'm fine, son."

"So what's your news?"

"Well...I don't want to get your hopes up, but I may be getting transferred to a store right outside of Cape May. So—"

"So you'll be moving down here? Cool! Dad, I love that! Best news I've heard all week."

"I know, now, but I don't want either of us getting disappointed if it doesn't happen," his father cautioned. "I'll know by the end of next week. We're waiting for the other manager to hear about the store in D.C. first. And they're helping me with finding a home, but—"

"But just in case, I've got room for you. You can always stay with me."

"I know, son. Thank you."

Joshua was touched by that familiar tone of affection in his father's voice. He had just pulled into a spot in front of the apartment building.

"Look, I just got here to the girl's house. We're going fishing together."

"She fishes?"

"Yeah. And she plays the violin."

"Lord, that girl is a keeper! I'll let you go then. You have a good time, Josh, and I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad. Enjoy your breakfast."

"Oh, I will. I like those Western omelettes at the diner."

After clicking off the cell and tossing it gently onto the small space under the car radio, Josh said a quick prayer. He asked God to help his father land that store manager job, if it was His will, and to be with him and Valerie as they went out to spend their morning together.

"And please help me to be the kind of son he deserves," he whispered to His heavenly Father. "Because, Lord, You know my dad didn't deserve what I put him through when I was younger..."

Things were so much better now between him and his father. There were things that he still hadn't forgiven himself for, most notably that his father had lost the house in order to pay for Josh's legal representation. There were other factors, including a couple of times during those years when Walter Coleman had been laid off from work, leading to problems with bills and credit that had put the household finances in the red. Yet paying for the criminal attorney hadn't helped any. It had bothered him then, and it still bothered him now. It would bother him until, somehow, he was able to someday repay his father.

Josh climbed the stairs, which were the outside, open-air style, to the second floor and found Apartment 2C. He looked down, inspecting his choice of clothes that morning before tapping the metal knocker against the door. He had worn a more presentable shirt than he typically wore for fishing, along with those long, black cargo shorts. His favorite fishing shorts, because of all the pockets for lures and car keys and such. Though he didn't believe in luck, he honestly believed he caught more fish whenever he wore those things. On his feet were his old, worn sneakers, the ones he didn't mind getting either sandy or fishy, or both.

It bothered him a little, too, that he'd asked her out with that "Zed" guy still lurking around. What's a Zed, anyway? he'd mused.

Yet he noticed something that night at the Wave Crest. He'd witnessed the guy checking out and even winking at other girls whenever Valerie was too busy with the band to notice or otherwise away from their table. Why a guy would be foolish enough to flirt with some other girl, haplessly jeopardizing what he had with a girl as beautiful and awesome as Valerie was a mystery to him.

Those actions on Zed's part had told John that, if she agreed to a date with him, then there was hope for a relationship with her, rusty old boyfriend or no rusty old boyfriend.

"Coming!" he heard her call before she opened the door.

She was also in shorts, not too terribly short but enough to show off her tanned, slim legs. That black denim, together with a mint tank with a big, white starfish on the slender left hip, caught his eye. With her hair loose under a floppy black hat, she looked like sort of like a mermaid who was going incognito as a modern-day hippie. Leather sandals, rather than sneakers, covered her feet and let him see the whimsical flower decals on her polished toenails.

There were women who had fun being women. Where had he heard that before? He couldn't remember, but obviously, the person had been talking about wildflowers like Valerie Welch.

"Well, good morning!" she exclaimed.

"Good morning to you. Not too early, I hope."

He'd arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. Better early than later was a good philosophy, unless it was in relation to a date, when it came to some girls.

To her credit, Valerie shrugged one shoulder. "Okay with me. I've been up since five. I always get too excited to sleep when I go fishing. Come on in. I just need to get my stuff."

"'Kay. Nice place." He was complimenting her home, but he was really more interested in her figure.

And if he allowed himself to dwell on that, he would be thinking all sorts of things that he shouldn't have been dwelling on. It was difficult because, bottom line, he was physically attracted to her, in addition to being taken in by her upbeat and sunny disposition. He looked around at the apartment, which opened to the living room. Small but tidy and well kept, with only a couch, a coffee table, a television set and shelves to one side stacked with music CDs and books. One book, Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers, rested on the seat of a wine-colored recliner.

There were framed pictures and small knickknacks lining a chest-high partition that separated the living room from the kitchen. Hanging from the side of an overhead cabinet was a little sign with a lighthouse and a beach scene that read, MY LITTLE COTTAGE AT THE BEACH. That made him smile.

"It's comfy. I like it here," she said as she placed a coffee mug in the sink and grabbed her keys off a key hook plaque above the toaster. "That way, after you pass my teensy, little pantry, you get to a balcony. There's a view of the greenway from there."

"You're that close to the greenway?" Josh was impressed.

"Yes. I don't get to go that much. Usually ride my bike—that's out on the terrace right now, but I bring it in when it rains. Or I go for a run on the river walk or the boardwalk. I don't mind driving all the way there." She laughed. "It's an even more gorgeous view. You live far from here?"

"Not too far. The other end of Hathaway, looks like. My apartment's not as awesome as this. Is that your tackle box?"

Pink. It was pink, like a flower. It matched her rod and reel combo, which he'd already seen that first day when they met. That must have been what a girl he'd known had called her "signature color." He held back the urge to chuckle.

"Yeah. Don't laugh; it works." She arched an eyebrow in mock sternness.

Josh held up his hands. "Hey, that's all that matters."

"Ready to go?"

"Ready and excited. I'm always up earlier than I have to be on fishing days, too."

"Good! Let's go catch some fish!"

She started to reach for her cooler, which sat on the floor to the right of the door, but he picked it up for her.

"How long we got?" he asked.

"I don't have to be at the Meadowview until three."

"Oh, well, that gives us a lot of time." Not as much time as he would have wanted with her, but then again, he would have taken the whole day.

"Sorry about that. I only go once a month. I'd change it except those older people really look forward to it."

"That's okay. You made a commitment. And we did this on the spur of the moment, pretty much."

"Which I like. I like to plan, you know, but sometimes it's fun to do things at the last minute, too. It's adventurous."

"I like that, too," he agreed. "So that's what you do. You go and play your violin for people at Meadowview."

"And talk to them. If the Lord opens the door, I share the gospel with them. We chat, sometimes someone asks me to play a game. That's where I learned to play chess."

"You play chess? We gotta play sometime."

"I'm not very good at it at all. My teacher is eighty-seven and wheelchair-bound. Beats me every time. Then, afterwards he tells me, 'I play chess better a whole lot better than you, but you're still a whole lot better looking."

Laughing with her, Josh placed her cooler beside his in the car's trunk.

"You close to your mom, Valerie? Go out to dinner together a lot?"

"At least once a week. She drives me crazy sometimes, but I love her. You close with your parents, too?"

"My dad. My mom died in a car accident when I was seven, so it's been just him and me for years." He opened the passenger side door for her. "He lives up in Parsippany."

"Parsippany? Wow—that's far from here," she remarked.

"Too far. He manages a Healthy Market up there, though. He's trying to get the store manager spot in a store outside of Cape May."

"Cool. Hope he gets it."

His shyness with her was dissipating. Maybe it was because it wasn't his first time being around her, or because he felt so comfortable with her. Like he could be himself with her.

Almost. His new self.

And what about your old self? Are you going to tell her about what you were before?

That was one of those cross-that-bridge-when-we-get-to-it kind of questions. Josh didn't even want to think about that for now. He started the engine and waved at the radio.

"I have some CDs in the sleeve on the sun visor on your side," he said. "Or we can listen to the radio. I don't have satellite. Or we can talk."

"I'd rather talk. If that's okay." She flashed him a little grin. "I love music. But I want to know about you. You grew up in Parsippany?"

"Yep. Born and raised there."

Just as he anticipated she would, Valerie asked her next question: "So how did you end up here in South Jersey?"

Josh held back a groan. Keeping his tone light, he told her a half truth.

"My friend, Elliot—he's the guy who was with me that day when I met you—he moved down here a couple years before I did. Tried for a whole to talk me into coming down. I kept telling him I needed a job first. So he helped me land one."

"Really? Doing what?"

"Construction. Good job for now. I did it back in Parsippany with another friend and his dad, so I'm not new at it. Pays good. We're building an addition to one of those urgent care clinics."

"Wow. And you like the beach?"

"I love the beach."

"Me, too." He glanced at her, one hand on the steering wheel, the other cupped over the gear shift. "I've lived here for most of my life, Josh. I can't imagine not living close to the ocean."

She was a girl who didn't mind driving with the window down. He would have turned on the A/C for her, too. Yet she seemed to enjoy having the wind swirl through her hair under that hat, which she held onto with one hand.

"Can I ask you something, Valerie?"

"Sure."

"Your boyfriend. What's his name again? Zed?"

"Yes. You have a good memory."

He noticed she looked vaguely uncomfortable when he brought up the name. Not a good way to start off their morning, but he preferred to get it out of the way before he became even more emotionally involved.

"Kind of an unusual name. Guess that's why I remembered it. What's it short for?"

"Nothing. That's his real name. Zed." Valerie giggled. "We're not serious. I wouldn't have said yes to coming with you today if I was, Josh. I'm not like that."

If he hadn't caught himself in time, he would have breathed out a zesty, "Yessssssss!" in relief.

"That's what I wanted to know. So you're not seeing him?"

"I used to. We used to be serious. Or I was, anyway. I loved Zed for years." Suddenly, she shook her head. "Looking back, I don't know if I ever knew where I stood with him. But, look, it's not something I want to talk about with you, here, now. I mean—I want to talk about you. And I want to tell you about me. But I'm not here with you and hiding from him, because I'm free to see whoever I want, and so is he."

Valerie was struggling with her answer. It still wasn't the answer Josh wanted to hear, since the underlying message coming through was: Zed is still around. Like a bad winter cold that stubbornly refuses to go away.

But it wasn't serious. That meant he had a chance with her.

"Okay. That's all I wanted to know," he said. "And I didn't want you to think I'm the kind of guy who would—you know. Get in the way of something serious between you two."

"No, I'm glad you brought it up. I'd rather be up front and honest with each other, even if it's...you know, we're just going fishing. It's just one date."

"Right. That's where I'm coming from, too."

Up front and honest. Yep, that's me. Oh, boy.

How was he supposed to tell her about his past, when they were having enough trouble just talking about the "Zed" matter? He sighed with relief to hear her change the subject.

"I packed us some sandwiches for lunch," she told him. "I hope you like Virginia ham and cheese, with lettuce and tomato. Oh—and seedless grapes and chocolate milk for you. Unless you'd rather have the apple juice...?"

Josh broke into delighted laughter. "No, I'll take the chocolate milk, if that's okay. How did you know?"

"I don't know. Something told me you were a chocolate milk kind of guy."

"Okay, I'm impressed. Guess that makes you an apple juice kind of girl?"

"Exactly!" She joined him in laughter.

"That's awesome."

You're awesome. He wanted to say that, but he couldn't. The same way he wanted to touch her hair, her hand, and to kiss her. For now, those things were off limits to him.

One date. One half day of fishing. That was all they had for now.

Josh pulled the car into an available space close to the pier, at the beginning of which was a bar/restaurant that charged five dollars per person to go out on their fishing pier. Not a bad deal, considering it covered the entire day. He would be paying for himself and Valerie, plus he'd planned on treating her to a quick lunch before she had to leave. He loved the fact that she'd taken the time and effort to pack a lunch for them.

****

For the convenience of people who used the pier to fish, the restaurant had designated a restroom for their use with an outdoor restaurant right behind the bar. Valerie loved to fish, but she didn't love the fishy smell that clung to her hands after handling bait and fish all day. After washing her hands, she used a travel-size bottle of hand cream in her backpack, warm vanilla scent, that she'd picked up at the mall, before checking her cell phone.

One missed call from Kylie, a text from Mom—Have fun, my love! Tell me about it when u get home, k? It was cute to her, how her mother had mastered short cuts on texts as well as any teenager.

The second text message had come from Zed. Reading it brought an exasperated sigh from Valerie.

so whos the fisherman? I no we said we were taking this slow and could see other people but wow that was quick. we just got back together and u didnt say a word bout it either. alright not a big deal just kinda sneaky of you but ok.

"Sneaky? Really, Zed?" she mumbled to herself as she jammed the phone back into her shorts pocket.

This was coming from the same guy who had done his share of "sneakiness," and not only when they were younger, either. The very last time she'd been his on-again girlfriend, he'd secreted away a side-dish girlfriend, someone from Lodi who'd been visiting Wildwood with a few of her friends. Valerie had found out from the grapevine, because Zed would have kept the little game going for as long as he could if he hadn't gotten caught, that they had continued to see each other for months. All the times he'd said he was going to New York on business, he'd really been driving up to Lodi to visit his little redheaded secret.

Could it be that Kylie was right? She tried to avoid the subject whenever her best friend and her mother were in the same room, because those two agreed with each other when it came to Zed. But Kylie had said something that had stuck with Valerie.

Zed was your first love. I don't believe he was ever really the person your heart made him out to be, but you haven't stopped believing the dreams of the teenager you used to be. That's why you keep holding on, because you think your love is going to make him into something he's never been and never going to be.

Valerie smiled, walking back along the long pier, past others who were dropping their lines into the water below. She remembered how she'd teased Kylie about behaving like an amateur psychologist.

And yet...it rang true. Her best friend was like that sometimes, very insightful and, Valerie would say, even wise. Maybe Kylie sometimes seemed to just know her better than she knew herself.

Up ahead stood Josh, checking her line. He had paused and was watching her approach, standing with his long, slim legs spread apart. His tan was deepening from the time they'd already spent out in the sun that day, and there was something oh-so-hunky about the way his complexion went so well with his wind-tossed, sandy brown hair. His sunglasses concealed his eyes, and she mused how he reminded her more of some handsome secret agent rather than a beach-going local.

Awesome guy, she thought.

She found it funny how she'd gotten his choice of drink right on the money. He hadn't even waited until they'd broken out the sandwiches, either. Josh had whipped out the chocolate milk container and had begun to sip it.

Chocolate milk, an occasional soda, and iced tea. He told her that morning that he never drank except when he was younger, and that he'd done that only to be part of the crowd. Now, he said, he felt no such peer pressure. He claimed not to like the taste of beer, wine or liquor, and that he wasn't into drugs, either.

Then maybe April was mistaken about...that other matter? Josh hadn't mentioned a word about it. In fairness, though, that wasn't something a person offered to bring up, especially while out on a first date.

Please,let it not be true, Lord, she prayed. I don't know—can I pray that? I guess not. You can do anything, I know. You're God. But the past is there; it is what it is. It can't be changed. Please let him be honest with me. I've had enough of a man keeping secrets from me, Lord. I'd rather he not disrespect me with a lie. That he be honest with me.

Josh was wiping his hands on a small towel he'd brought with him when she made it back to their spot on the pier.

"You missed it," he announced.

"What? Oh, man—I wasn't even gone that long!" she moaned.

"Yep. Feast your eyes on this baby..."

He opened his cooler, which they'd used to store any fish they'd caught—if any were, in fact, caught. Fishing was often a gamble, but a fun one. Inside the cooler, resting on a bed of ice, was a fish big enough to produce two suitable fillets.

"Oh, that's one gorgeous fish," she said reverently.

"Yeah, ain't he good-lookin'? He'll look even better on a dish with lemon and tartar sauce."

"Next to some of those yummy, little fingerling potatoes. Roasted fingerlings."

"And corn on the cob."

"With butter."

With all that talk of food making him hungry, Josh licked his lips. That made her think of kissing. The thought of kissing him made her have to catch her breath.

"That menu sounds perfect," he declared.

"And we forgot biscuits. I know how to make really good ones from scratch, like the ones you get at Red Lobster, with some shredded cheddar and rosemary and garlic spice."

He cleared his throat. "You think you'd like to...have that for dinner tonight? Or...You're busy after your volunteer work?"

One date...to be continued. Tonight.

"We could do that," Valerie murmured, replacing her own sunglasses onto her face. "But, um, could we invite someone? Why don't you see if your friend, Elliot, wants to come?"

The both of them, alone in her apartment. That was inviting trouble. He seemed to understand what she was saying.

"Elliot? Don't know if he can make it, but, sure. And you invite Kylie—or your mom, if you'd like."

She chuckled, more from the jitters. Funny that he should suggest her mother be invited. Though there'd been a time when Mom had liked Zed, for the past couple of years she'd been downright chilly and distant toward him. That had to have been her natural maternal instinct, her need to protect her daughter, even if she was now an adult.

"Sure you don't mind?" she asked.

"Mind? No. It'll be like a party. 'Course, unless we catch another fish or two in the next hour, it won't be enough."

"I have some frozen coconut shrimp at home. It's out of a box, but it's not bad. Oh—and I can defrost a steak, too. Kinda have a surf and turf meal."

"Surf and turf. I like that idea. The shrimp sounds good, too." Grinning, he rested his hand on the pier's wooden railing behind him.

This was the part where, if they were further along than just the first date, a kiss would have been in order. She was thinking about that a lot, being around him. Valerie forced herself to return to the safe topic of dinner.

"I've got some tomatoes at home, too. I'll pick up some lettuce and cucumber for a salad."

"Okay. And I'll pick up a dessert. Something sweet. Got anything special in mind that I should get? Cake? Pie?"

Lord, I wouldn't be staring at him like this if You didn't make him so good-looking! She almost laughed out loud. That was one of Kylie's favorite lines.

Josh Coleman wasn't just handsome. She had been around attractive guys before, even dated a couple, including Zed. Looks weren't everything. Some men weren't the whole package. Maybe they were easy on the eyes, but then they weren't at all adept at making conversation that flowed easily. Or they had no sense of humor, which she found to be a deal killer, or they weren't very attentive or romantic or gentlemanly, including toward their own date. Some acted annoyed when there were kids around...another deal killer, to her.

Simply being around Josh was...making her heart race. Being around him, whether they engaged in conversation or not, made her heart feel light.

"Something sweet," she responded at last. "Whatever you want to get for us. My mom has a sweet tooth, so she likes just about everything, as long as it's made with sugar. And Kylie and I aren't fussy, either."

"Ohhhh—look at that, Val! Look at that!"

He'd called her Val. Like her mom and close friends did; like Zed had always done. Her nickname, spoken by his voice, sent a pleasant tingle through her.

Gliding across the perfectly blue summer sky was one of those small planes used for aerial advertising. Its engine could just about be heard above the sound of the peaceful waves beneath the pier, and the banner trailing behind it read, NINO'S CRAB SHACK SEAFOOD BEER LIVE BAND ON FRIDAYS.

"That's how you know you're at the beach," he said. "I never see those things anywhere else."

"Me, either!" She laughed. Then she noticed his rod moving right before he freed it from a holding post. "Looks like we might just have enough fish! Yes!"

"Come on home, baby!" Josh growled playfully.

It happened naturally. She had been looking out at the water, her gaze following his line. The fish, with Josh's hook in its mouth, was still putting up a spirited fight as it emerged from the dark North Atlantic waters. In the distance was a party fishing boat, the kind that held thirty people or more, and one of those boats that left out of Cape May in search of whale and dolphin sightings. Above them was that sunlit Jersey summer sky, dotted by cotton candy-like white clouds.

Valerie was touching his arm, her hand resting gently on one of those big, strong biceps of his. He reeled in the fish and gazed back at her.

"I'd better get you home now," he said huskily, "so you can change and get your violin. Don't want you to be late for Meadowview."

"Yeah. Well, congrats on the fish. He's bigger than mine, I think."

Josh nodded. "We had one good day of fishing, I'd say."

"Mmmmm." Then, reaching up on her tip toes, Valerie planted a kiss on his mouth. Just a sweet, easy, but long kiss, every bit as wonderful as she'd imagined it would be. "Now it is."

CHAPTER FIVE

That day had begun as just another ordinary day, although interestingly enough, it had been right before the family's vacation to Wildwood. Most of the time they'd gone to another of the shore points, Ocean Grove, staying at their favorite Victorian bed and breakfast. That year, for a change of pace, it was supposed to have been Wildwood. That was the year vacation had been cancelled. No beach that year. And more than the beach had been missing.

The last time Josh had seen his mother, she had been wearing a pair of dark blue pants and one of those blue-and-white sailor tops that she liked to wear. People had always remarked about what a pretty woman she was, this smiling, happy-go-lucky brunette who readily talked to people about "my two favorite boys"—her husband and her son, her only child. His mom and dad had been trying to have another child, ever since he was about four and his mother had lost the baby. She had been eight months pregnant; the baby was another boy.

But that day, everyone in the Coleman household had been happy. The suitcases were packed, the cooler waited on the kitchen island to be filled with ice, juice, sandwiches and bottled water, and room had been made in the SUV's cargo area for the beach umbrella and chairs. Sharon Coleman had stepped out for a quick errand, right after dinner, to the store for some last-minute items.

It was a "quick run" that should have had her back within the hour, but over two hours had passed. It wasn't like Mom to disappear, though she could have met a friend at the store and chatted with them. The world fell apart when the doorbell rang, and on their doorstep stood a police officer, bearing news that no family ever wanted to hear.

Died on impact...

Josh stood staring at the sailor top and navy blue pants ensemble in the women's clothing shop window. Some things never seemed to go out of style, and that was one of them, he supposed. He hadn't expected clothes to stop him in his tracks, and he'd been passing the store quickly, having only seen the outfit out of the corner of his eye. Those three words, spoken by the somber cop to his father at the door, had made no sense when he'd heard them that first time.

His father had broken down. Physically broken down, as if all of his strength had been snatched out of him by some invisible force. Josh, seven years old and standing in the foyer a couple feet away, watched as the cop caught his father in his arms as he collapsed. The officer must have been around his dad's age, and when his gaze met Josh's, the uniformed cop's eyes grew instantly misty.

And from then on, life in the Coleman household had changed. It was never the same again. No more the three of us. Now it was the two of us, with one of the two—his father—falling into a depression for a while. Despite the support from Josh's grandparents, because his mother's parents had always loved and kept in contact with his father, despite the encouragement and help from family friends and friends from church. It had taken Dad a couple of years to return to some semblance of normalcy after suffering the loss of his beloved wife.

For Josh, it had taken a different kind of toll.

Some years later, during the turbulence of his teen years, when he'd begun to hang out with a bad crowd, other words had been engraved into his memory.

I lost my wife. And now I'm losing my son.

Josh shuffled away from the shop window and continued down Hathaway's Main Street. Past the old pharmacy that had been newly renovated as an ice cream parlor that also sold fountain sodas and New York-style egg creams. Past the pet store, which always prominently displayed playful puppies or kittens in its big picture window, alternating between the two. Past the Christian bookstore and the hair salon. He crossed the street at the corner and stepped into Sally's Seashore Bakery.

Sally sells seashells by the seashore! read the sign over a glass display, behind which were beautifully stacked sugar cookies in the shape of seashells. Evidently, Sally also sold creamy Napoleons, luscious tiramisu sold in dainty cups, and assorted cookies, cakes, and breads. Sold there, too, were marzipan candies and chocolates, though those were brought in from a confectionary based in Nutley.

A slightly overweight, middle-aged blonde dressed in an apron appeared through a door behind the counter. That, Josh guessed, was Sally by the Seashore.

"Good afternoon, sweetie," she greeted him with a smile. "Looking for anything special?"

He returned her smile. "Looking for something sweet. I was assigned to bring home something sweet for dinner tonight."

"Well, you've come to the right place to complete your assignment." She chuckled, and with a flourish, she waved an arm over the counter. "We've got quite the selection. For you and a young lady, or for you two and a whole crowd?"

"Uh—me and a whole crowd. Not a real big crowd, but there'll be about six of us, I think."

He would have liked to have given her that first answer. You and a young lady. After having Valerie to himself all morning, and oddly enough, missing her already, he wouldn't have minded a quiet, intimate dinner for two. Over candlelight, even better.

Admittedly, this would be interesting, with her best friend and possibly her mother there, too. He'd called and left Elliot a message inviting him, but so far, no call back yet.

"A box of Italian cookies are always a good bet," she suggested. "You just cut off the string, open the box, pull them out of the box and set them on your prettiest plate. Set that next to a carafe of coffee and everybody's in Heaven. What's for dinner?"

"Fish and steak."

"Ah, surf and turf! Very nice. The lemon meringue pie is fresh. Just made it this morning. You want something sweet, then that's your baby. It's light and crisp, goes nice after the fish, especially."

Must be nice to really like what you do, he thought, impressed with the woman's enthusiasm.

"I wish I liked my job as much," he mused out loud. "I mean, I like it, but it's probably not as much fun."

"Oh? What is it you do?"

"Well, I work in construction. Seems to be the job I keep coming back to. Been doing it for some years now."

"Oh. You do that on the side, too?"

Josh was bent at the waist and peering into the glass display, admiring the cookies.

"Never thought of doing that, but I guess I could. Got a friend who'd probably work with me."

"You do everything, or...? Because it just so happens that I'm looking for somebody, a contractor, to tear up those old rugs in my living room and on the stairs and lay down new hardwood floors."

Interested, he straightened up. "Done that. Lots of times."

"Yeah, I'm tired of the rugs. They're a pain to clean. Gotta have professionals in there every few months to steam-clean them. My dogs and grandkids, they're rough on rugs, too." Shaking her head, she went on, "Anyway, the pies are right behind you in that case, next to the one with the cakes."

"Oh—yeah, thanks."

Was she looking to hire him for freelance work? Josh entertained the thought for a moment before turning to view the pies.

Elliot had worked for people on the side, painting, building backyard decks, repairing porches, other odd jobs. He'd earned extra money that way. It was more than that, though. It was being his own boss that had appealed to him, Elliot had said. Josh had never considered it much until that conversation with the baker.

"I think I'll take this one," he said, referring to a scrumptious-looking lemon meringue pie. "Can I get it out myself?"

"Yes, that's fine, honey, or I can get it for you. I'll wrap it up for you. It's nine dollars and fifty cents. That's okay?"

"That's fine. It's a big pie. Good deal." Reaching for his wallet, he nodded at the right side of the counter. "And how about a box of those chocolates, too?"

The woman smiled knowingly. "That's not for the guests."

"Noooo. She can share them if she wants. But those are especially for her."

"Ahh. Well, very romantic. That'll be seventeen forty-nine, plus tax."

As soon as he handed over his money, she passed a business card across the counter.

"I'm not in a hurry right now to do those floors," she said. "If you and your friend do decide you want the job, give me a call. You can come over and give me an estimate."

He was still thinking about the box of candy, about giving it to Valerie later that evening, sometime before dinner. He realized Sally was offering him a possible business proposition, the chance to make some money on the side.

"I'll do that. Hopefully, I'll see him tonight and let you know," he promised.

"That's good. Like I said, I'm not in a hurry, but if I can get them done for a good price, that's good." She wrapped up his pie in a box with a string tied in a bow and rang up his order, then gave him his change. "Enjoy! Have a nice dinner with your friends, uh...?"

"Josh Coleman."

"Josh. And I guess you already know I'm Sally. Come back again."

"I will. Thanks."

On his way out the door, he thought about that day. Specifically, he dwelled on that kiss. She had kissed him. It just sort of happened, an unexpected pleasure, because he hadn't shared a kiss in so long. That one, especially coming from Valerie, had come as a pleasurable surprise.

He had a chance. If he hadn't thought so before, he knew it now, that he had a chance with Valerie Welch. She hadn't wanted to talk about Zed, and he understood that. Wouldn't it have been worse, and more awkward, if while on a date with Josh she'd gone on and on about some dusty, old boyfriend?

Carefully, he placed the pie on the passenger seat, reaching over the console. Right under it was the box of assorted chocolates. First, he'd go home and take a shower, washing off a half day of fishing. After he changed into fresh clothes, he'd head over to her place for dinner.

Rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer—Romans 12:12

The small sign, affixed to a yellow ribbon placed around the rearview mirror, was a gift from the pastor of the evangelical church he'd attended back in Parsippany. It had cheered him back then and it filled him with new hope now as he considered the feelings and emotions awakened in him ever since he'd met Valerie.

Lord, I want to rejoice in hope, but I don't want to get ahead of myself—or ahead of You, he prayed silently. But I spent the whole morning with her and now it's like I can't wait to be with her again. That never happened with any other girl.

And naturally, she must feel something for you or she wouldn't have kissed you. She feels something now. Wait until you tell her about the old Joshua Coleman.

Swallowing hard, he started the car's engine. The past wasn't something he had to deal with that day. The past always seemed like a ghost lurking in the shadows, rearing its head. Whether that was the voice of the Enemy coming to accuse and discourage him, or his own thoughts dredging up an old injury and guilt, Josh didn't have time to listen to that voice.

His cell phone rang and he waited until he reached a red light at the intersection to take the call.

"Hey, so your little fisherwoman is requesting my presence tonight at dinner?" Elliot piped up on the other line, barely giving Josh a chance to say hello.

"Yeah, you're invited for shrimp, steak, and fresh fish just caught today," Josh replied jovially. "And lemon meringue pie. It's kind of a party."

"Oh, cool. And that's definitely the kind of a menu I can't resist. And you know me and parties. I never say no to them. Sure I won't be crowding you two, though?"

"No, there's going to be a crowd. Whole idea of the party. How about I text you the address and time when I get home?"

"Great! I'll check with my secretary and let you know if I can make it," he teased. "That should take all of two seconds."

On the other end, Elliot Bauer laughed. There was no secretary, obviously, and no busy schedule. Elliot's life consisted of work, hanging out and fishing. Josh moved the phone to his other ear. Through the windshield, he observed the sky overheard. After an exceptionally hot summer day, the sky was darkening and preparing to cool the evening off with a thunderstorm. He wondered, fleetingly, how the storms were down there at the shore, never having been present for anything stronger than a gentle shower.

"Hey, Elliot, before you go, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"You've put down hardwood floors before, right?"

****

Kylie rubbed her thumb and index finger together, staring at the game board intently.

"Okay. I am going to suggest...no. No, wait." Hesitantly, she consulted the three cards in front of her and then her score sheet. "No, I am ready to make an accusation. I say it was Miss Scarlett, and I say she did it in the ballroom with the candlestick."

As she reached for the small envelope in the center of the board, Elliot Bauer muttered, "That's probably right. I'm totally lost right now. I thought it was you, Josh. Professor Plum."

Valerie smiled and stood to survey the kitchen table. A vintage 1970s-style dinette that she'd picked up at the consignment shop in town, it was cluttered with people, the Clue game, glasses, dessert dishes, a mostly empty bowl of tortilla chips and a bowl refilled with salsa. There was nothing left of dinner or the pie, which had been the perfect and creamiest accompaniment to a delicious and filling dinner.

She loved seeing her little kitchen so crowded with company, with the familiar faces of her mother and Kylie, and with the new faces of Josh and Elliot.

Triumphantly, Kylie beamed and lightly slapped one card down at a time.

"Miss Scarlett...ballroom...candlestick!" she sang out.

"I'll tell you, that Miss Scarlett is a wonton woman," Elliot said with a twirl of an imaginary moustache.

"The word is 'wanton,'" Linda Cuthbert softly corrected, holding back a chuckle. "And no, I'm not bad. I'm—Miss Scarlett, not me—she's just misunderstood. I know how it feels to be her, though."

"I knew it was Miss Scarlett, too," Josh said to no one in particular. "And I knew she did it with the candlestick. I just couldn't figure out what room she was in when she killed the vic."

"'The vic?'" Kylie giggled. "You've been watching too much Law and Order!"

"Maybe we should play Scrabble next?" Linda asked. "But we'd have to play teams. There's too many of us. And I need more coffee or I won't stay awake for it."

Kylie glanced out the kitchen window. "That rain that's been holding out on us all night is about to pour. I have to get home before it does."

"And tomorrow morning is church," Josh added. "Got up early for fishing today. Have to get some rest."

Like Kylie, he also rose from the table. Slowly, like he was tired, but he smiled at Valerie with content.

Would you like to come to my church tomorrow? Or I'll come visit yours? She held back on those questions.

Valerie felt the heat and color rising in her cheeks. Earlier, on the pier, she had kissed him. She had done it impulsively, out of curiosity, to see what kissing him would feel like, out of the emotions stirred up in her, simply by being around him.

But what would he think of her? First kissing him, basically stealing a kiss from him, and then inviting him to Sunday services at her church? When she hadn't shown up at his church last night until the movie was over?

Chocolates. He brought you chocolates. Valerie thought of her mother's words that evening when they were alone. How sweet! So old-fashioned, so romantic!

"I'm tired, too," she said. "Got up so early."

"Thanks, you two, for sharing your fish," Elliot interjected. "It was great."

"Steak was good, too," Kylie added.

"Very good. I'll come to this restaurant any time," Josh's best friend said.

Linda laughed at the teasing remark. "Elliot, do you need a ride home, dear heart?"

"Thanks, Ms. Cuthbertson, but I live about two blocks from here. I should make it home before the downpour."

"I'll take a ride, Linda," Kylie told her. "I walked here for exercise, but you know me and thunderstorms. They freak me out."

"Oh, honey, I'm right there with ya!" Linda reached for her purse, which she'd tossed on the baker's rack in the corner, and turned to Josh. "It was very nice meeting you, honey."

"Very nice to meet you, too, ma'am." Josh offered her his hand to shake again. "Tonight was a lot of fun."

"I thought so, too. And the pie? It was delish!"

Kylie hooked the strap of her purse to her shoulder and hugged Valerie, giving the air an exaggerated, "Mmmmwwwwwaaaahhhh! I'll call you tomorrow, sugar baby."

"Later, my sweet," Linda told her daughter, also hugging and kissing her.

There was the usual commotion of guests leaving. Valerie noticed how fast her mother and best friend moved, with Elliot tagging not far behind. Josh was the last one in the kitchen with her, helping to clear the table of the Clue game, dishes, utensils and glasses.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going, too," he said with a sigh.

She fidgeted with her necklace, which her mother had picked up some months ago while on a daytrip to New York's Greenwich Village with her friends from work. Valerie stood at the door with him, both of them suddenly shy with each other.

"Well, I gotta get—get going," he said again, stammering.

Valerie nodded. "Well, yeah. But I hate for the day to end."

"Me, too." Josh leaned against the doorframe, staring back at her with genuine affection. "I like your mom. Your best friend is cool, too."

"Well, and I thought Elliot was cool."

"Ah, he's crazy, but he's all right. He's a good friend," Josh conceded with a smile. "And I really liked being around you today."

She leaned against the door's edge, gripping the doorknob in her hand. She wondered if he could hear her heart racing.

"I loved being with you," she murmured.

Pausing, he licked the corner of his lips. "Am I going to see you again? Like, I don't know—"

"Maybe on your next movie night?"

"That won't be for a while. I'd love to see you sooner. But...you can come and play for us next Friday. My friend's going to give a teaching from Romans. You could open up after the prayer with a song on your new, great violin."

Shakily, she nodded. By now, the idea of playing a solo in front of strangers shouldn't have made her nervous, yet it still did.

"Okay. I'd love that. Do you have to check with anybody first, Josh?"

"I'll make sure with Pastor. He's a big music fan. He'll love it. We start at seven, okay?"

"Okay. I'll be there this time, and I'll be early. I promise."

"Good. Well, good night, Valerie."

"'Night, Josh."

He stood there for a moment, gazing at her. Then he said, "Could I have another kiss? Like the one this morning?"

Valerie cleared her throat. "Sure. I—I should've—I should—"

Should've asked you first. The words delayed in leaving her lips, and in moments he leaned forward. She saw his eyes close before her own, right before he pressed his mouth against hers in a light kiss. Her heart felt like it was gliding, soaring, reaching to the clouds. She could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance and the gentle tapping of raindrops against the kitchen windows.

"I'd better go," he rasped.

"Okay. Careful going home."

Call me before Friday. Please call me. She couldn't say those words to him. She would look like she was chasing after him. People had told her that, in today's world, women supposedly could be more forward with men. That a woman could make the move to ask for a date and such. Still, she'd found the opposite to be true, that a woman could appear too interested in a man, and for one reason or another, whether it was the fun of the pursuit that men loved would then be made too easy for them. She didn't know which was the case, but if it wouldn't work out she would only succeed in making herself look needy.

And yet as she watched him disappear around the corner and down the stairs, Valerie thought about how alive she felt, just from being around this man, how everything about their time together felt so golden and special, and how long those days in between would be until next Friday arrived.

****

"My name is Summer Delaney. D-E-L-A-N-E-Y. Summer, like the season. If you would hold that book for me when it comes in, I'd really appreciate it."

Valerie's mind hadn't totally been on work that day. Nevertheless, she offered the woman across the counter a smile as she wrote down her name.

"It should be back this week," she assured the library's patron, who was rather new, though Valerie was certain she'd seen her before. "The person who checked it out is good about bringing back our books. And I can't imagine there'd be a run on books about drums, anyway. I mean—um—"

She hadn't meant to be rude; she was just being honest. A book about drums? It wasn't like a current bestselling thriller or romance novel, or even one of those tawdry celebrity tell-alls that were always in demand. Summer Delaney, a pretty redhead of around thirty with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, laughed softly.

"With my luck the way it's been, there will be a waiting list for it." She then lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "So do me a favor, girl. If there's suddenly this great demand for it, stash it away for me. Hide it! Okay?"

"Okay. I'll do that." Laughing with her, Valerie placed the sticky note with the woman's name on a pad, making a mental note to put her on the list of patrons waiting for specific books, an electronic file in the computer. Beside the note was the desk calendar, reminding her that it was Thursday.

Thursday. And she still hadn't heard from her favorite fisherman. That was why she was hyper lately, why she couldn't seem to concentrate on tasks at hand. Because most of the week had passed, and tomorrow was Friday, the day she was supposed to have seen him again, the night she was supposed to play a solo on her violin at his church. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and smiled at the next person in line, coming up to check out three audio books. There were still two and a half hours left of work before she could sign out for the day.

Maybe something had happened to him? She had his phone number. She could call him, after all, just to make sure he was okay, alive and breathing, that nothing terrible had happened to him since their first date.

But maybe that had been their first and last date. Because, it didn't happen often but she could think of a couple occasions when it had occurred, he could have changed his mind. Guys were weird sometimes. Something could have happened during dinner that had turned him off or made him rethink their budding relationship. He had given her a box of chocolates. A sweet, thoughtful gesture. But a box of chocolates sure wasn't a declaration of forever love, or even the promise of seeing her again the very next week.

And to think she'd actually devoted time to practicing "Amazing Grace (My Chains are Gone)" by Chris Tomlin on her violin since that night. He hadn't promised her that she could do it for Lakeside Church; in fact, he'd mentioned he'd had to speak to his pastor about it first. Surely, she would understand if the man chose not to let her play that night. What she cared about more was seeing Josh again, especially after—well, he hadn't promised, but he'd claimed he wanted to get together with her again.

If that was true, they wouldn't have gotten all the way to Thursday, only a little more than twenty-four hours before they were supposed to see each other again, without so much as a call. No, for some reason, he had changed his mind about seeing her again. She should have been able to shrug off the disappointment, and yet she couldn't. Not after a week of her heart skipping and of remembering every little detail of their Saturday together, of every little gesture, every smile, every laugh that had passed between them, of those kisses.

The truth was, she had wanted more of Josh Coleman. She'd wanted to get to know him. To listen to him talk about the Lord, to hear him laugh, to savor the way he would raise his gaze slowly to meet hers and see that smile across his handsome face.

"I'm going to take these back, April," she told her coworker, indicating the cart full of books that had been returned in the past few hours.

The older lady paused while at the computer and looked at her over the rim of her red frame glasses. "Sure, honey."

April went to church with Josh. She hadn't said anything, either, and Valerie wasn't about to embarrass herself by asking. Besides, she herself went to church with hundreds of people. She couldn't say what each and every one of them was thinking or doing from one moment to the next. How could she expect April to know what was going on with Josh, a relatively new face at Lakeside?

Zed hadn't called, either. Valerie found it very telling that his refusal to call her didn't bother her. He hadn't called ever since he'd found out she had taken him up on the suggestion that they see other people. Her ex-boyfriend had made that suggestion in the past, but it was usually him who would be seeing other girls, with no regard whatsoever to how much it would hurt her. This time, the shoe was on the other foot, and Zed was angry and huffy, handling it like a spoiled and petulant child. In the past, when he'd failed to call her, she'd resorted to calling him.

Things were different this time. Very different. She hated to admit it, but maybe her mother was right. Maybe, during all that time she and Zed had spent apart, she'd outgrown him and his childish, narcissistic ways.

"Shhhh! This is a library, so we have to be very quiet. I know you've never seen a library before, but I don't want you getting yelled at by the librarian lady over there..."

Wrinkling her nose, she turned at the waist. Standing at the end of the aisle was Josh, and sure enough, he was speaking in a high-pitched voice, holding up a small, pretty mermaid doll, the plush kind that a little girl would take to bed with her, with a stream of long golden hair. Both amused and happy to see him, Valerie giggled.

"Okay, the verdict is in. You're crazy!" she told him.

"Well, that goes without saying. And she's a little fish out of water. Ha, ha!" He approached her, holding out the doll, with her bright blue eyes, pouty lips and sparkly green fish tail. "You like her?"

"She's very cute."

"I picked her up in that store, what's it called? Cool Things. Reminded me of you, because I can't go near the beach now without thinking of you. You're like a mermaid coming out of the water." Josh was quick to add, "A lot prettier mermaid than her, of course."

There was that voice again, the one that melted her inside. She held the doll out, looking her over, then held her against her chest and looked up at him. He was dressed in a tight-fitting, short-sleeved gray T-shirt, faded jeans and work boots. His hair was tousled and there was a hint of stubble on his cheeks and chin. With his head tilted to the side and that delicious look he was giving her, she found it easy to forgive the past few days of missing phone calls.

Her heart was in so much trouble, it wasn't even funny.

"Just got off of work?" she asked.

"A little while ago. I gotta go home and shower. The mermaid and I aren't going to keep you. We don't want to get you in trouble. Well—I don't, but she wants to hang out with you." He chuckled. "You comin' tomorrow night, right?"

"Oh—yeah, I was planning to."

"Good. Gonna play for us?"

"I've been practicing. Your pastor said okay?"

"Yeah, he's cool. He heard 'violin,' and the man was in from that point on. Told you he was a music lover. What're you playing for us?"

"Just one song. 'Amazing Grace,' the Chris Tomlin one."

He nodded, eyes widening. "I love that. Pick you up tonight, my musical mermaid?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." She tried to sound calm, at ease. Her heart was doing a little celebratory dance.

"Good." Josh leaned forward. He looked as if he were about to kiss her, then abruptly remembered she was at work. His voice husky, he informed her, "I missed you. A lot."

"Oh, and...I missed you."

The most he could get away with while she was there at work was blowing a kiss at her, receiving one blown in return. She didn't realize until he'd disappeared around the corner of the shelves that she was clutching the mermaid doll to her chest. It was silly, something a little kid would do, but she didn't care.

"Oh, Lord, what is that in the Bible," she whispered, "about 'hope deferred?' That it makes your heart sick. But then you get what your heart desires, and—and—"

Something about a tree of life. That verse was in Proverbs, that much she knew. She would have to look it up when she got home later.

She also knew that she was in love. It didn't happen often, but it was happening to her now. She was falling in love with Josh Coleman.
CHAPTER SIX

Josh, honey, you have to understand that you're making things harder on your dad. Your father is going through depression right now. Please be the good kid that you always were before. He really needs you right now.

Those words, spoken by his father's older sister, Margaret, still haunted him. Even now as he watched his father unpack his overnight bag, using the closet space and top drawer of the dresser to store his clothes. Josh had made some room for him on Wednesday, knowing his father would be spending the weekend with him.

"I don't have to go tonight, you know," Walter Coleman was saying. "I'll be in the way of you two—"

"Oh, Dad, c'mon. You're never in the way," Josh assured him. "Besides, I want you to hear Valerie play her solo."

"Well, that, I am looking forward to." Dad glanced over his shoulder, grinning. "She's joining us for our celebration dinner tomorrow, too, isn't she?"

"Don't know yet. I haven't asked her. Hope so." Leaning against the dresser, Josh said, "I'm so happy you're getting this transfer. So happy we'll be close to each other again."

"I'm not far, you know, son. We've always been in the same state, at least. But the closer we live to each other, the better."

"I agree. Now take your time. I'll set the table for us."

"I'll just put away a couple more things. Be right out."

Your mom took care of a lot of things. She handled the household finances, she went to see your teachers, all of that. She also took good care of you and your dad. He was the one who went to work and didn't have to worry about anything because your mom had everything under control. He took care of a supermarket all day. Now he feels as if he's lost. On top of that, he feels like he's failing you. Please be gentle with him, honey.

At the time, Josh had resented his aunt's well-meaning and soft-spoken advice. He'd confused it with meddling and putting more weight on his young shoulders. He had also begun hanging out with a different crowd. A crowd that wasn't "gentle" with their own families. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Okay, Dad, look. I'm not going to church today. That's your thing, going to church. Mine is partying and having fun. I'm young. Maybe later, I'll think about God. Right now, He's not interested in me, so I'm too busy for Him, too. I want to live life. Life is short. That doesn't mean being in some boring church all morning, listening to some boring, old dude read from some boring, ancient book.

His father tended to alternate between arguing and pleading with him. Even when he was angry and when he'd raise his voice—both of them would get into terrible shouting matches, actually—there was an undertone of pain. Great, soul-debilitating pain mixed with despair.

That's not life, Joshua. Getting high and getting into trouble all the time, being with different girls, none of which mean anything to you. That's not living. And you're going to die young or you'll wind up in prison if you keep traveling this same road. If you die, it will be in your sins. Please don't do this anymore. Please. I love you so much.

Stop it. Just stop it, Dad! Leave me alone. I can't wait until I'm eighteen, because then I'm outta here. Gonna get away from you for good.

What a big shot, talking like that, he thought now as he set the small kitchen table for two. Such big talk from a seventeen-year-old who was going nowhere fast. His grades had tanked. His teachers had all written him off as a troublemaker.

What a nice boy that Josh Coleman used to be. Now he's just trouble.

The local cops knew him by name, and they agreed with the teachers and the administration in his high school. Senior year he left his hair grow out and had the spiky top dyed purple. He shaved only if he wanted to, listened to death metal, and started to ignore Elliot Bauer, his friend since elementary school, in favor of hanging out with his cool, fun "friends". Interestingly, he got his first—and as it turned out, only—tattoo as soon as he turned eighteen, on his left upper arm. The tat had a crown—not the crown of thorns, but a king's crown—angled at the top, with the words emblazed in red on a cloth draped around it, KING OF MY LIFE.

Because there was just the smallest part of him, just a sliver, that didn't want to erase Jesus Christ completely from his life. Even though he told his friends that he'd chosen the design because it was a symbol for the One his mother had called "the Lord." She would always say that, that He was the King of her life. Because buried under all that bravado and blind attachment to the world was the Josh who still wanted to believe.

All that tough, I-don't-need-God-or-anyone-else talk came to a screeching halt when the police stopped that car at the end of the boulevard with a barricade of patrol cars. He and his friends were ordered, at gunpoint, out of the car. The day they put those handcuffs on him, that seemed so unreal, like it was happening to someone else. The day they fingerprinted him and took his mug shot, when he changed into that orange jumpsuit.

That was the day he realized the nonstop party really had come to an end. That he was eighteen years old and would be tried as an adult, though he hadn't been told of his friends' plans to rob that store. That he was getting locked up, away from his real friends, his father, especially, with hardened men who'd committed murder and other crimes more serious than driving a getaway car.

"Oh, look at that! That's an old Coleman family favorite!"

Chuckling, Josh turned while at the oven. Rather than toasting the ham and cheese on rye sandwiches on the stove, he'd placed them on a cookie sheet in the oven. On each he'd placed tomato slices and added both mustard and mayonnaise. The cheese had melted nicely.

"Is that enough, you think, Pop? I figured it was an old favorite—"

"Tomato soup?"

"Of course."

"Yeaaahhhhh!" his dad growled with satisfaction.

"And we can grab some dessert at church. They always have donuts or coffee cake or something on Friday nights."

"Son, that's fine. I love that it's an old favorite. Good way to start our weekend off."

"Well, then, open the fridge and get our drinks. Because I thought of everything."

Walt Coleman opened the refrigerator door and laughed softly. Tomato soup, toasted ham and cheese sandwiches...and cream soda. Neither father nor son recalled how that combination had become a favorite, quick, light and easy meal for them, but eaten together, those three components tasted like happy times.

"You sit, Dad. I'll get everything for us."

"Oh, I can at least get our drinks. So good to see cream soda. You know, my store doesn't carry that brand anymore? Shame. The other brand's not as good."

"I'll make sure you have some to take home with you before you leave."

The soup was ready, so he allowed the sandwiches to toast a little more but turned off the oven. In the meantime, he ladled soup into two bowls.

"Don't go through all that trouble, Josh. I'll be moving down here in a couple months, so I'll keep it stocked for us."

"It's not any trouble, but that sounds good. Sit. Relax."

"I like this little apartment. Perfect location, too."

Josh nodded, setting down the bowls and grabbing the potholders.

"I like the fact that it's in the heart of town. You got all the shops right here," he said. "Park's right across the street. I like that. The river walk's like a mile and a half long. When I can get a run in, I do six miles on it. You know, going back and forth."

"Very good. I need to start exercising again. Haven't made time for it in a while."

"Oh, no? Well, the gym on the other side of Hathaway is only ten dollars a month. No signup costs, either. Nice place. Clean. Lots of machines, plus the free weights."

Things are so good now, Josh mused. The way they should have always been.

Later, on one of his visits to see his son, his father had admitted that he'd prayed for him daily. He'd asked God not to allow Josh to be high and kill himself or someone else while driving, and to keep him from overdosing or dying at the hands of drug dealers.

Please, Lord, let him turn from those ways. Save my son, Lord, please. Do whatever You have to, only please, don't let him die without You.

That was the prayer his father had once told him he'd prayed, months before Josh was released. While still in prison, he'd given his life to Jesus Christ.

He regarded his father now as they sat down together to pray before their meal. Josh reached across the table for his hand.

"You pray, Dad," he urged.

"Okay, son. Father, thank You for this food that was so lovingly prepared. Thank You for my son and our relationship. Thank You for answered prayer—I'm getting my store and my transfer, thanks to You! And most of all, thank You for Your Son. In His name, we pray..."

"Amen," Josh whispered.

"Hmmm. Good," Walt remarked after sampling the soup. "We have to tell Campbell's."

Though he knew his father was jesting, Josh proudly informed him, "Nope. That's not Campbell's. I made it myself from scratch."

"Really? From scratch? No wonder I can taste basil—"

"Fresh basil. I got this cool pair of scissors that cuts herbs. Just a recipe I found online. I make it pretty often, so I know how to make it now by heart."

"Impressive. Very good, Josh." His father tasted his sandwich. "And this isn't American, is it?"

"No, it's Gruyère. I used it once for something else. It's like a really good Swiss."

"We're going to start calling you Bobby Flay." Dad laughed. "Good job. You know, I think either your church is doing you a lot of good, or having a Christian girlfriend is helping you grow in the Lord, too. I've noticed that about you, besides your newfound flair for being a chef."

"It's probably my church. I haven't been going out with Valerie that long yet." He hesitated. "She doesn't know...yet. You know. That I did time."

Walt held the next spoonful of soup poised near his mouth. "Oh? Not sure how to bring it up?"

"Yeah. That, and I'm hoping she gets to know me first. Because I'm not that guy anymore, Dad. But I'm afraid that if she knows, she'll think less of me. Maybe she won't want me anymore, because we've even had a chance together."

"Well, pray that God prepares her heart before you tell her. And pray that His will be done. If she's the one for you, she won't care about your past. She'll love you the way you should love her: unconditionally."

Josh nodded. "I hope it is His will. I know whatever He's got planned for me is great, but..."

"But this girl is very special to you."

"She is. And I know that's crazy, because we haven't known each other that long. But ever since I met her, Dad, I can't stop thinking about her. She's the most wonderful girl ever. Is that crazy?"

"Crazy? No. That was what your mother meant to me." Pausing, his father went on, "And I knew very early on in our relationship, too. There was never any woman like her in my life, and there would never be anyone ever like her again. But your mother loved me unconditionally. The Lord won't accept less than that for you, too, son."

It would hurt if she chose to walk away. Josh didn't know how to come out and admit that and still salvage his pride. His father understood, though, and nodded.

"Just be the man you are now," he advised. "Because that other Josh is gone. Be the man that God knows you can be. Who you are in His eyes."

"That's what I hope she sees."

"And don't take too long to tell her the truth, Josh. Don't withhold that from her. Be honest. If she's a decent girl, if nothing else, whether she decides to stay with you or not, she'll respect you for being honest with her."

I wish I'd never done those things now. Then I'd have no past to be ashamed of. Because I am ashamed of what I was back then.

Admitting to that would cast a sad shadow on the time together. Instead, he shifted gears and shared something else that had been on his heart for quite some time.

"Oh, and, um...I feel like God is calling me to a ministry," he said, picking up his sandwich. "He's been putting that on my heart for a while now."

"The ministry? Really? That's wonderful—"

"No, not like a pastor or youth pastor. Nothing like that. I think the Lord is calling me to a prison ministry. What Richie did for me, I want to do for someone else."

Josh almost held his breath, waiting for his father's reaction. His best friend, who didn't have a personal relationship with the Lord, had expressed concern.

Sure you want to do that? I would think you never wanted to go back to that place again. Can't you do something else instead?

Dad was smiling but his eyes moistened and reflected pride.

"I had a feeling the Lord would call you to do that someday, when you were ready," Dad said. "You would be good at that, Josh. Pray about it. And call Richie. I'm sure he'll have good advice for you on how to get started with your ministry."

****

"I can't stay. Sorry, Zed. I told you that. I have to be at Lakeside Church tonight. Doing a solo for them."

Valerie surprised herself. She'd said those words quietly, calmly. That was particularly good, considering she'd had a busy—no, hectic—Friday. Between work and Perry Stanfield, the leader of the band, calling to notify her of a last-minute practice on Saturday morning, she felt like she was stretching herself too thin. But Perry was such a sweetheart, and he'd apologized and explained he had a couple of concert dates lined up for them. He wanted to expand the band's repertoire with two new songs, one of which he'd written himself. That always meant they'd need time to practice them.

Then Zed had called, practically begging her to meet him for dinner. He was upset because work wasn't going well, then he'd gone and injured his hand when he fell that week while jogging. He knew full well she was involved with someone else now, but he contended they could still be friends and talk like old times. Couldn't they?

He'd sounded so sad on the phone (and her mom believed Zed O'Neill could give some Oscar-worthy performances when he wanted to) that she gave in. Dinner was fine, no big deal. Talking and laughing like old times, no problem. To his credit, in spite of his faults, Zed had always been a fun, interesting conversationalist.

That is, when he wasn't trying to wheedle something out of her. Which, at the moment, happened to be trying to prevent her from keeping her commitment that night to Josh and Lakeside Church.

"Okay, I understand. It's just that I miss you so much." He was having the pasta and the chicken parmigiana, but was mostly just rearranging the food on his plate. "Guess your mom's happy we're not together anymore, huh? Wonder what happened with us. Your mom and me were, like, best buddies, once upon a time."

Their conversation seemed to have turned a corner. Had that been his intention all along? Valerie could recall times in the past when they'd be having a great time, chatting about anything and everything, and then all of a sudden, boom! Zed would lasso her right into some prickly area just ripe for an argument.

"She still likes you," she mumbled.

"Ahhh, now you see!" He shook an index finger at her, as if he were scolding a child. "That's a lie. You're a Christian. Not supposed to lie, young lady."

"That's not a lie. She does like you. Just not as a future son-in-law."

Zed didn't like that. She knew him well enough to see through his smile and recognize that irritation underneath the façade. Pausing before nibbling at her pasta primavera, she went on.

"Although...you might get married someday, Zed. Just not to me."

"That again? Is that why you're with this guy, the fisherman?" He huffed in annoyance. "What is the big hurry to get married and have kids? It's not like we're thirty-five or forty. We've got so much time for that. I always told you, babe. When we're ready, we'll do it. We'll have this big, beautiful wedding—"

"I don't want us to get married anymore, Zed."

His eyes widened. Was he hurt? She hadn't meant to hurt him.

"Fine. Whatever," he muttered.

"I don't mean it that way. Please don't take it the wrong way, Zed. But that's something that both people decide, not one. You're not ready. I accept that. I am ready for marriage. I don't care about a big wedding. All I care about is marrying a man who puts God first, and then me before himself. And I will put God first, and then him before me. If he's ready, then I'm ready for that big step, too."

"And that 'Mr. Right' is Josh Coleman? Is that it?"

Valerie blinked. He'd spat out Josh's name with such venom.

"I don't know yet. I don't know him yet that well."

"That's right, Val. You don't. For all you know, he might not be such a great guy. Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye. Maybe he's got something he's hiding from you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything. Just forget it."

He was baiting her. Manipulating her. Trying to get his way again. What had she been thinking before, believing their relationship deserved another chance, after so many second chances before it?

Across the table, Zed dug in now, eating heartily and downing his iced tea. He was still good-looking, and he always had been. Sure, he wasn't everybody's cup of tea, but most times young women noticed him when he walked into a room. Actually, middle-aged and older women noticed him, too. He was handsome and he had a certain presence, almost like a leading actor coming onto a stage.

None of that mattered now. He didn't look handsome right then, with his face contorted with barely reserved anger.

"You don't know him. So how can you accuse Josh of hiding something from me?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice low so that others at nearby tables couldn't hear them arguing.

"I don't know Josh and I don't want to know him. But I know you and I know how sweet you are, that you're innocent for a woman your age. Other woman, they've been around the block a few times already. But you..."

Zed leaned across the table and softened his tone. "Look, babe, I care about you. I don't want to lose you. And, okay, I'm jealous of this guy, because he stole you away from me."

"Josh didn't steal me away from you, Zed. I'm not something you own; I'm a person. And I want to be with him. That was my doing, not his."

He ignored that statement. "Yeah, well, like I was saying...you should know he's not as innocent as he comes across. And he might go to church and says he's a Christian, but a real Christian would be up front with you. Wouldn't he?"

Was Josh engaged? Was he hiding a girlfriend? A wife? She held fast to her facial expression, not wanting Zed to catch on that she was becoming upset.

"How do you know all that?" It was impossible to keep that tone of resignation from her voice.

"My cousin, Morgan—you remember him. He works with Josh and that friend of his, that skinny guy—"

"Elliot."

"I guess. I don't remember his name. Don't care," he said dismissively. "Anyway, they're building, expanding onto that clinic. That's the same guy, right?"

"Yes. That's Josh."

"All right. Well, Josh Coleman has a record."

"A record?"

"Prison, Valerie. Josh was in jail. Something like two and a half years he went away."

"Josh?" Valerie responded with disbelief.

"Yes, Josh. Your Josh. Possession—drugs—and armed robbery." A moment passed during which Zed studied her reaction. "He didn't tell you about that, did he?

She shook her head. "No."

"I didn't think so."

"Well, maybe he was going to tell me. I mean, think about it, Zed. If you went to jail, you wouldn't just happily announce it to everyone you meet."

"No. But you'd tell the girl you want to go out with. That's not something you keep from somebody. Unless you don't want them to know what kind of creep you were."

She pushed away her plate, no longer hungry. "Everybody who goes to jail for possession of drugs is not a 'creep.' Sometimes people do things they regret. Errors in judgment—"

"But armed robbery, Val." She heard his emphasis on those two words. "You gotta really be a creep to hold somebody up at gunpoint or knifepoint. And Morgan's not sure, because he didn't hear the whole story, but what if somebody was hurt during the robbery? Or killed? Would you want somebody like that for a boyfriend?"

Just the slightest trace of triumph flickered in Zed's eyes. She almost wanted to slap him.

"I don't think your mom would want somebody with a past like that for a son-in-law. Do you?"

****

It was interesting, how much different it was to play with She Likes the Weather at a venue—for example, a restaurant—and ministering to the Lord and His people in His house.

When she played with the band, she could be transported by the music. No matter what kind of day she'd had, no matter what had happened to her, she could shut everything out and just play her violin, putting all else aside.

Yet when it came to playing for the Lord's glory, which in reality, she did at all times, but more at a time like this, sometimes circumstances got in the way. Suddenly, it was time to come down on herself for every little thought, every little word she shouldn't have said, every negative emotion.

And it was happening now, there in Lakeside Church. How quiet it was, not a peep out of anyone, in those seats lined up in the church's banquet hall. Valerie sat on the stool, took a deep breath, and tucked the violin under her chin, getting the bow in position. Her gaze found Josh, seated there to the left in the front row beside his father. He was smiling tenderly at her, his work-calloused hands folded in between his knees.

Possession and armed robbery. That night, no matter what she did, those words would just not stop taunting her. She was supposed to be ministering, not dwelling on those things.

Valerie closed her eyes. She guessed everyone must have thought she was just such a serious virtuoso! Closing her eyes and letting the music flow from her soul to that instrument. Instead, she was praying.

Father, my Lord, help me to understand what's going on with Josh. Help me and protect me. I don't want to be hurt again. I'm so disappointed, Lord. Why can't he just be the person I thought he was? I'm so, so disappointed...

Even if she was to stay with him, could she ever tell those closest to her about Josh's past? How would Mom take that, especially, knowing her daughter's boyfriend had gone to prison? Knowing Kylie, she had taken a liking to Josh, but that would be a deal breaker.

People in her own church. Pastor. Her other friends. What would people think?

The only one you ever have to worry about is Me. What do I think about someone in your life? Don't be concerned about what others think. Just keep in mind how your Savior feels about it.

Was that the Lord speaking to her heart? Or her own thoughts? She was confused, lost as to what to do with this new information.

And she had heard it from Zed. He hadn't exactly endeared himself to her by divulging that secret.

That...piece of gossip. Because that was what it was. Obviously, someone had gone about telling others confidential information, the construction company that had hired Josh. The boss had given him a chance by giving him a job, but now someone had shared that information about Josh having served time to others. Morgan, Zed's cousin—who knows who else he'd told, who else in town now knew.

Valerie didn't appreciate Zed telling her. He hadn't done it to protect her. A small part of his reasoning might have been with that purpose in mind, but the major reason was to cast Josh in the worst light possible, to make him look badly, like some criminal.

And he had been a criminal. Once.

Possession and armed robbery.

And he still hadn't said one word about it, either.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found; was blind but now I see...

Though she was playing an instrumental cover of that song, she knew that what followed were original lyrics written and sung by Chris Tomlin. Words that spoke about being set free from chains, from the imprisonment of sin, and a God whose love was deeper and more powerful than any ocean or any force on earth. Or, for that matter, any shameful past in a person's life.

If any man be in Christ, he is a new creation. Christ came to call the sinner, not the righteous, to repentance.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

Halfway through her song, people rose to their feet in worship. They lifted their hands and uttered quiet, loving words of praise. Two of those people were Josh and his father.

Lord, forgive me for judging him. I was a wretch when You found me, too. I would still be a wretch without You. And forgive me for being disappointed. Josh is Yours. He belongs to You. He is a new creation. But I want the truth, Lord, to come from him. Not from Zed or April or anyone else.

People applauded and directed their praise to the Lord when she was done ministering through music. As the associate pastor, a man named Wayne, came up to thank her and give a brief teaching, she took her violin and bow with her back to her seat beside Josh.

"That was so good, baby," he whispered and squeezed her hand. "It was a real blessing. Real blessing."

"Oh...I'm glad." She set her violin and its bow beside her. Rather than interrupt the teaching, she could put it back in its case afterwards.

"So proud of you, baby," he added. "I love seeing you with the band, but playing for the Lord, even better. Proud of you."

Valerie only nodded and dropped her gaze. What could she say? Minutes earlier, she'd confided to God that she was disappointed in Josh. Now here he was, lavishing praise on her, telling her how proud he was of her. Guilt jabbed sharply at her.

Leaning forward slightly, his father grinned and gave her a nod, mouthing the words, Very nice.

Luckily, Wayne's teaching didn't pertain to anything she was currently dealing with, rather centering on how making time for God every day—for prayer, for reading His Word—changed the tone of that same day.

Following the message, there was a time of fellowship during which people talked and partook of refreshments, which that night included coffee, soda, pound cake and homemade brownies.

"Oh—there she is! There's my baby girl!"

Typically, that announcement, boisterously delivered by her mother, would have made Valerie roll her eyes. Tonight she welcomed the interruption, that break from wondering how she would leave that night without Josh. She was seriously craving time to herself, time to think.

"Is she not beautiful?" Mom gushed with an arm around Valerie's shoulders and a cup of coffee in her other hand. "And—not because she's my daughter, of course—but she's so talented."

Mom, pleeeeeease! Valerie thought, holding fast to her smile.

Who was that, beaming back at her? An attractive, tall man around her mother's age stood, dressed in a dark denim jeans and a pressed white, short-sleeved shirt. He also held a cup of coffee in one hand.

"You must be..." she began.

"Drew Lingerfelt, honey. I could not wait for him to meet you. And Drew..." Linda paused, nodding at him. "This is my daughter, Valerie. I named her after a Monkee's song. Is that not cute? Great song, loved it! I spelled her name differently, though. Anyway, she's my only child. The apple of my eye."

"Yes. You really are the apple of her eye." Drew offered his hand for her to shake. "I'm very happy to finally meet you."

"Same here."

How strange was that? A first: meeting her mother's—what did she call him? Boyfriend? He was in his fifties. Gentleman friend?

"We've known each other for a long time," Linda explained. "I knew Drew before I met your father. Back when we were growing up in Weehawken. Oh, Drew, this is a friend of my daughter's, Josh Coleman."

Her mother was adept at that. Hopping from one topic to another with aplomb. Valerie watched as Drew and Josh exchanged pleasantries, and then one more person was introduced.

"This is my dad," Josh said, drawing his father closer by the crook of his arm. "Walter Coleman. Dad, this is Linda, Valerie's mom, and her friend, Drew."

The parents commandeered the conversation then, as casually as if they'd all known each other for years. They talked about Josh's dad coming down to live soon in Hathaway, about what a hot and yet pleasant summer it was turning out to be, about Pastor Wayne's message and Valerie's performance.

All the while, she and Josh were exchanging glances and smiles. The end of that night couldn't come soon enough for her. She wanted to get home, make herself a cup of Oolong tea, change into her pajamas and read the Word. Before bed, she was going to have a heart-to-heart talk with her Father.

Then Josh took her by the arm and led her away from the parents' circle.

"I wonder...you got a little time tonight?" he asked.

"Uh—a little. Why?"

"Want to walk on the beach with me? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Oh-kay. Here we go.

All at once, she felt nervous. She hadn't expected to have to deal with the subject that night. Yet maybe it was better to get it out of the way.

"Okay. Sure," she said.

"Let me just give my dad my car keys. He can drive home. You mind driving to Wildwood?"

"Not at all. Give me a second, too. I'll meet you out front in a few minutes."

"Sure, Val. Take your time."

It didn't have to take very long. She could have done it out in her car, but she wasn't sure how fast Josh would get there after saying good night to his dad. After saying goodbye to her mother, Drew Lingerfelt and quite a few people who'd come up to greet her and thank her for coming to play, Valerie stepped out into the hallway. On her way into the dining hall she had passed a restroom right beside the choir room, which was locked because of the equipment inside. The small bathroom would be perfect for those moments, and no one would have noticed her.

With her back to the door and a hand to her chest, she closed her eyes and prayed.

"Lord, I wasn't ready for this conversation tonight. You know I was just going to go home and talk to You. Well, to be honest...I was just going to disappear. Or try to, from Josh's life. But I don't really want to do that. All I want to say right now are two things. First, I trust You. I never really had an earthly father because he's never been interested in me, Lord, but I was never without my Heavenly Father. Now, after coming to You, I know that You've always been there, with me and Mom. I know You'll protect me and help me not to hurt Josh if I have to break this off..."

Valerie pulled in a deep breath. "But, Lord, I don't want to walk away if this is the one. If Josh is the one for me, I will always regret leaving him behind. I don't feel that way about Zed, but you know Josh is—well, Lord, please, in Your Son's name I pray, let me see Josh through Your eyes..."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tonight. This was the night. He would tell Valerie tonight. Because maybe it was possible that someone had already told her, and he needed to be a man and come clean before they went any further.

"Oh—careful, Val," he said, catching her by the waist before she stumbled on the walkway from the boardwalk to the beach.

By the waist? He tried to catch her arm, but his arm reflexively reached around her lithe waist. She didn't seem to mind, though, and gave him a shy smile. Reluctantly, he withdrew his arm.

"Thanks. I think the front of my flip-flop got caught on one of the planks," she said.

She hadn't heard anything. Realistically speaking, who would she hear that from? Someone had said something about it at the construction site. He knew that to be true because Aaron Dunovant had mentioned it that time. Josh had been within his rights when he confided that to his boss, and someone had been reprimanded because there'd been no more talk about it from anyone at work.

There'd been no more talk...at work. That didn't mean gossip hadn't spread to others outside the confines of his job. He knew Hathaway was a small town, but he doubted it was that small.

It didn't matter. He was still obligated to tell her. And he would. Hopefully, that would be tonight.

Valerie turned to him. "I love the beach at night."

"So do I."

"In the summer. It's not bad in the winter unless it's super-cold. Then I'd rather stay indoors and have a hot chocolate."

He ventured an arm around her shoulders. She moved in close and placed her hand on his waist.

"How are the winters here?" he asked. "It's dead in town, right?"

"People still come down, but not anywhere near as many. Starts to slow down in September, when the kids go back to school. Then it's just us and the seagulls." He watched Valerie look out at the water. "And that's all right, too. I love the excitement, but I love the quiet, too."

"It's exciting living at the beach," he said, as if noting that for the first time.

"Everybody wants to come here. You're the envy of the rest of the Garden State!" she teased. "Because you get the ocean all year-round. But that's not without some dangers, too."

"Yeah."

"But not dangerous tonight."

No, he reflected. The only danger right now is to my heart.

Back at the church, Valerie had seemed a little distant. Not like she was angry or anything like that; more like she had something on her mind. That could have been his imagination, too. She was sort of shy, and there she was, thrust in the middle of all those new people. Whatever the case, she was fine now.

As for any danger from the ocean, the water was peaceful at that hour. Other than a summer thunderstorm here and there, the weather had been perfect lately. It had been a summer much like those he remembered from his childhood.

"Ever notice that?" he mused out loud. "How summers when you were a kid were almost magical? It's like you look back at them and they're golden. Perfect."

"That's really true. My mom and your dad were talking about that tonight. This summer has been like that, like one from your childhood. Perfect."

"Yeah, it really has. But I think it's like that, especially...because was the summer I met you."

Valerie's eyes met his and held tenderly. He thought she was going to say something in response, but then she only reached for his hand and continued walking.

He tried not to read anything into that. Instead, he thought about nothing but how the ocean seemed so dark, the line between it and the sky obscured at night. Far out there was the smallest light, probably belonging to a private vessel, maybe a cabin cruiser.

To her right was, several yards away, the boardwalk, the hotels, the restaurants and the amusement park rides.

Speaking of childhood, he remembered the time his family was supposed to have gone to Wildwood. They had never gotten there because of her death. Because it was so painful a memory, any vacations after that were again spent in either Ocean Grove or Seaside Heights. Before that, there was a time when his dad had referred to Wildwood, and the nearby town of Cape May, as "the end of the beach."

Josh grinned to himself. He wasn't sure, because he'd never looked it up on the map, but it was certainly one of the last shore points. It was hardly "the end of the beach"—his father had neglected to tag on the words at the end, in New Jersey—but he'd really believed it was the end of the beach as a little boy. It had also lent a certain air of mystery to this placed called Wildwood...the place almost at the end of the beach.

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Josh?"

That question tore through his tranquil thoughts. Before answering, he paused to listen to the sounds of the tide and the waves as they came in, darkening the sand closest to their feet. A sigh brought in the scent of saltwater.

"Uh—okay. I...always find this hard to do. It's not something I do all that often, I guess." He felt as if his tongue had gotten tangled up in his words. "And I guess there's no easy way to say this—"

"It...kinda sounds like you're breaking up with me."

Josh whipped his head around. Her voice was like a little child's, airy and thin. Valerie was frowning and she looked doleful.

"Oh, no, no. Well...we can't break up. We haven't officially started going out with each other. Although...I wanted to ask you if you would..."

Will you just say it? Spit it out! Elliot would've said that to him, adding a playful, hard slap across his back.

"Does that mean you'd say yes, Val? That you'd go out with me?" he blurted. "Because I wanted to ask you. I couldn't figure out how to do that. Or how you felt about me. And I know about Zed."

"I broke up with Zed. I did see him tonight, but just as friends, catching up. Right now, I'm not seeing anyone but you. So...ask me, Josh."

He swallowed, staring back at her. That wasn't what they were supposed to have been talking about that night. He had brought her out there that night to tell her the truth about himself. The ugly truth, about his time in jail, about what had led up to his being arrested, the person he was before the Lord came into his heart. All the things he was ashamed of, but at least the truth would be out in the open. He wouldn't have to feel as if he were keeping something from her anymore.

But how could he confess those things now?

"Go out with me, Valerie," he heard himself murmur instead. "Be my girlfriend. I want us to be together. The Lord knows how happy I've been ever since I met you. And I'll always be good to you so you can say the same about me."

"I can. I can say the same thing about you now. I've been happy ever since I met you. And yes—I want us to be together, too."

She emphasized her words with a smile and an embrace. His own arms encircled her, held her tightly against him, and when she lifted her face to his, he kissed her.

It wasn't a moment for the past. When the kiss ended and he stood with her chin in his hand, both of them laughing softly out of joy, he had no words to describe the emotions filling him.

It wasn't about the past. There was no past as he held her. Only the present, those moments filled with the sound of the tide and the waves and the children nearby, talking and walking on the beach with their parents. Yet even all of that was a blur, because it felt as if he and Valerie had the entire beach to themselves.

If there was only a way to photograph that moment! To capture it forever, other than just in his heart.

"I feel like we should do something to celebrate," he said, much to her amusement.

"Like what? Go out to dinner"

"Oh, that's too standard."

"Well, then, I'll leave it to you. Surprise me!"

"Yeah? But what about your input?"

Valerie shrugged. "Whatever you want to do, I'm in. I don't mind something spur-of-the-moment, either. As long as you give me enough time, because of work and the band."

He laughed. "Ah, you're contradicting yourself. But, okay, I'm in. I'll surprise you."

"And then I'll surprise you next time. But I have to be getting home. I have to meet Perry and the guys tomorrow. He wants us to work on a new song. It seems like Perry's always got a new song for us to work on."

"Okay, no problem, baby. That's good. Perry's a good bandleader. Let's get going."

That was what he felt like he had also: a new song.

Josh walked hand in hand with Valerie back up to the boardwalk. That would be faster than walking all that way back on the sand. His heart felt light, like their conversation all the way back to her car. There were times when he could very clearly sense the presence of the Lord, and the Savior was there with them.

Because He brought us together. Did Valerie feel that way, too? He was afraid to ask her, though he believed with all his might that it was true.

She was his and he was hers. For how long, no one knew yet. He only knew that that night had brought him closer to true love with a woman than anything he'd ever experienced before.

****

Elliot Bauer's truck was old, an '02 Dodge Ram he'd gotten when he traded in his car, but it was roomy and dependable. Fortunately, roomy enough for all the hardwood flooring they would need to do Sally Bazolli's floors. After stacking them in the rear, Josh watched his friend return the cart back to the sidewalk in front of Lowe's. His best friend was excited about the job—and collecting the last two-thirds of the money—but he was more interested in talking about Valerie.

"Well, I'm really happy for you, man," Elliot was saying. "I'd be happier if it was me. Nah—just kidding! I'm not jealous. Much."

He had permitted Josh to drive his truck there. He dangled the keys in the air, offering them to his friend, but Elliot shrugged.

"Eh, you can drive," he conceded. "Unless you're tired."

"No, I'm good. What about Kylie McCoy?"

"Who's that?"

"Kylie. You know—Valerie's best friend. Ever think of asking her out?"

"Oh, yeah! We could pretend we're in one of those chick flicks, where the guy's best friend goes out with the girl's best friend, and then they all get into these crazy misunderstandings together." Elliot laughed and hopped into the passenger seat. "No. This is real life. Real life doesn't work like that. Besides, there's that little weight issue between us."

Josh turned the key in the ignition. When nothing happened, he put his foot on the brake, put the gear shift into Neutral, and tried it again. This time the truck's roar calmed down to a healthy purr. The pickup was getting old and temperamental, and definitely needed to spend some time at the mechanic's shop.

"She's not that heavy." He found himself defending Kylie McCoy. "I think she's a pretty girl—"

"Oh, I'm not saying she's got the weight issue. Kylie's chubby, but chubby's cute. Give me a woman who's shaped like a real woman, some curves. I like that." He switched on the radio. "No, I mean me. I'm the one with weight issues. Some girls, especially the curvy ones, have problems with slim guys like me. And she's a really pretty girl."

Josh grinned and pulled carefully out of the spacious parking lot.

"You won't know unless you ask her," he advised.

"Nah. I'm okay on my own. Let me tell you somethin'. That business, you know, about how there's someone out there for everybody, that's a lie. So stupid."

"How do you know."

"'Cause. I know. There's nobody for me. I can look at a girl like Kylie McCoy, but I can never touch her. Besides, she's a store manager. She makes more money than me. No looks, no meat on my bones, no money. I'm not exactly a catch."

"Kylie is the assistant manager. You really think she makes that much?"

Now Elliot didn't seem so certain. "I—I'm guessin' she does."

"Maybe not. You make a decent salary. And why is that such a big deal, anyway? Why can't men and women get past all that stuff, about who makes more money? We're worth more than what our paychecks value us at. To God, we do."

"God?" After staring at Josh, Elliot chortled. "God's cool, so He would look at us as more. But you should've seen the last girl I tried to go out with. Look, I know you're the Christian and you read the Bible and all that, but this is a messed-up world, Josh. God doesn't measure us like that, but people do. The last girl I tried to go out with came out and told me she'd only go out with me if I was good-looking and I made a six-figure salary."

"That was her. Don't think everybody's like that, Elliot."

"Everybody is like that." Setting his jaw stubbornly, Elliot slouched in his seat, arms folded across his chest. "Hey, weren't you worried about telling Valerie about throwing away almost three years of your life in jail? You thought that would count against you. Everybody's not Valerie."

"Actually...she doesn't know yet."

Elliot's eyes widened. "What? She doesn't know? You didn't tell her?"

"Uh...no."

"Let me get this straight. You asked her out, asked her to be your girlfriend, but you didn't tell her about your past?"

Josh sighed and shook his head. They were coming up to Shannon Drive, where Sally lived, and they needed to deliver the materials. He and Elliot would be working throughout the following Friday and Saturday to get the job done.

"I couldn't do it," he confessed. "I tried to tell her. Whatever I started out with, she misunderstood and thought I was going to break it off with her. Which, you can't break up if you haven't agreed to date each other, but now we are, and I still haven't told her."

"That's really confusing." For a few minutes, Elliot was quiet, bringing out a stick of gum from his pocket. "Do you have to tell her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it shouldn't even come up again. You being in jail. So rather than rock the boat, maybe you should just let things be."

"No, I can't do that. I have to tell her the truth. I don't even want it to come up somehow and then she finds out I held back something from her. That would kill her trust in me forever. No, I have to tell her. Just have to find a way to do it."

Without losing her. Josh felt his stomach tighten at the thought of that possibility.

He hadn't wanted to think about that. Besides the fact that since the night before, he'd been too preoccupied with that joyous, elated feeling he'd had, ever since he and Valerie declared their feelings for each other.

Yet the question of revealing his secret to her wasn't far off. Just because things between them were going fine now and he was able to put off thinking about it didn't mean the problem had gone away. His prayer before going to sleep last night had been: Lord, please give me the words. And by the time I say them, please let Valerie see me for who I am now, not who I was before. I'm in love with her, Lord. Please forgive me for delaying this.

As he was pulling into Sally's driveway, he saw both her Chevy Tahoe and a very familiar-looking, black Nissan Rogue right beside it. Josh narrowed his eyes at the car's Jersey plates, trying to recall the number.

"Doesn't that look like...?" he began.

"It does. That can't be it, though," Elliot insisted.

"You sure? Looks a lot like it."

"No. Can't be it. Please, God, don't let that be it..."

Elliot was praying? Now Josh was really nervous. He stepped out of the car first and pulled off his sunglasses to inspect the Rogue ahead of them.

"Elliot, there's a little Hawaiian hula dancer bobble-head doll on the dash. You sure that's not it?"

One of the two-car garage's automatic doors slid open slowly. Standing there in front of a John Deere riding lawnmower was Aaron Dunovant. He was dressed in black cargo shorts, a short-sleeved navy blue T-shirt and flip-flops. Flexing his muscles, he stood with his legs spread slightly apart.

"What're you two guys doing here?" he barked.

"Hey, Josh—that's the car," Elliot joked, though his voice shook slightly from nerves.

"I asked you a question!" Dunovant raised his voice.

Josh cleared his throat. "We're doing a job here. Sally hired us."

"No, you are not doing a job here. Sally's my mother. Maaaa!" he bellowed over his shoulder, instantly returning his attention to them. "We don't need your services. Now get that old heap of metal off my property, Bauer."

Elliot straightened up. Evidently, he wasn't nervous enough to lose a side job that would pay both him and Josh well, nor did he savor hearing his beloved pickup being called an "old heap of metal."

"You mom hired us," he pointed out. "We just got the materials—"

"We're dropping them off," Josh interrupted. "And then we're coming back next week to do the job."

"Yeah?" Dunovant stepped right up to him, their chests only inches apart. "Over your dead body, Coleman."

Josh's lips stretched into a taut line. The adrenaline was racing through his blood, while at the same time his hand formed a fist at his side.

Lord, I'm sooo tired of this guy. Please don't let me hit him, Lord. I can't afford to hit him.

Right then the door in the garage leading into the house opened. Out stepped Sally in her peasant top, denim skirt and sandals.

"Yay! My contractors brought my future floors!" she sang out cheerily.

Dunovant swirled around to his mother but said nothing, turning again to glare at Josh.

Elliot went on, completely ignoring Sally's son. "Sally, you want everything out here in the garage or out back in your shed?"

"Honey, put it all in the shed, if you don't mind."

Dunovant finally spoke up. "Ma, you actually hired these guys to do the floors? Didn't I tell you I'd do them eventually?"

"Yes, honey, you did. You said you'd do them eventually...two years ago." Sally motioned with a slicing motion of her finger across her throat. "I'm done waiting, Aaron. Getting my floors done next week. Now please let these young guys do their job and don't get in their way."

"Don't get in their—Ma, can I talk to you?"

Josh turned and headed back to the rear of the truck to fetch the flooring. He and Elliot exchanged amused glances. Elliot snickered under his breath, stopping when Josh gave a stern shake of his head.

"Don't," he admonished. "I don't want Sally mad at us."

"Sorry. It's just that," Elliot whispered back, "Dunovant looks like, any minute now, he's gonna throw himself on the floor and throw a tantrum."

"Let's hope that's the worst thing he does."

They were left in peace for a good quarter of an hour or so, while they carried the hardwood floor planks and other materials out through the garage to the backyard shed. Dunovant. Bazolli. Now it made sense; Sally had told them she'd remarried and she'd mentioned she'd had kids—more than just Aaron, because it sounded like there was a couple of daughters in the family, too, as well as grandkids. Who would have thought his and Elliot's first sideline customer, who seemed like such a sweet lady to boot, would be related to a troublesome guy like Aaron Dunovant?

Out in the backyard were the dogs Sally had mentioned. Neither the elderly Dachshund or the younger and livelier Welch Corgi did more than bark at Josh and Elliot as a greeting before returning to their enviable task of napping in the sunshine. That swing and outdoor play set near a regal, aging oak looked relatively new, as did the swimmies left on a recliner near the above-ground swimming pool. Josh smiled to himself, thinking that was a family that enjoyed their backyard, with its outdoor swing for adults and chairs around a fire pit, newish-looking grill and the table set on the deck.

"You sure that flooring will be all right in the shed?" he asked Elliot.

"I'd prefer the garage, but if it's in the client's way, I think it'll be all right." He sniffed. "It's not winter. It's made to hold up under some humidity anyway. We're coming back on Friday, so...it'll be all right."

"Good. I'd really hate to mess up this job."

He wouldn't have wanted to do poorly on anyone's job, but Sally Bazolli was a nice lady. And considering his history with her son, any problems could get blown right out of proportion.

As they were preparing to leave, Dunovant stalked back out to the house, glowering at Elliot.

"So that's why you're both taking off Friday." He smirked. "Didn't mention that when you asked for the time."

"Your mom took the time off, too." Elliot smirked back at him, defiantly, as if daring him to do something and put a damper on his mother's excitement. The lady was tickled pink to finally be getting her floors done. "Thursday night we're coming to tear up the rugs. But if you need to know more, you can ask your mom."

Josh turned, not wanting Dunovant to see his own smirk. Elliot had said that in a slightly mocking, go-ask-your-mommy-because-she's-our-boss-not-you voice. His best friend wasn't a fighter. He knew Dunovant outweighed him by a good forty pounds, at least, and could mop the floor with him. But Elliot was no coward, and neither did he let anyone abuse him.

"Hey." Dunovant stopped Josh with a slight shove of his shoulder. "That was a real jerk move you did, what you did to Carla."

"Carla? The secretary at work? I got no idea what you're talking about," Josh scoffed.

"Oh, no? Telling the boss that somebody went around telling your business to everybody. About you going to jail."

Suddenly, Josh understood. "Oh..."

"Ohhhh, yeah," Dunovant mimicked him. "You got her in trouble."

"She got fired?"

"No, she didn't get fired. Luckily. She's a nice kid, but all because you had a problem with her telling one or two people about what was in your file, she got called into the office and written up for it. Not cool, Coleman. You went to jail. You gave up all your rights to privacy."

Squinting at him, Josh demanded, "Do you live in a parallel world or something, Aaron?"

Elliot grabbed his arm. "C'mon, forget this. Let's go."

"No, I'm not gonna do that, Elliot."

"Josh, listen to me. Forget this or we're gonna lose this job."

"Well, I hope not..." Turning back to Dunovant, Josh told him, "Look, I did my time. I did two and a half years of jail time. I paid my debt to society. That doesn't mean that, now that I'm out, I give up 'all rights to privacy.' Sorry the girl got wrote up, but I have as much right to my privacy as you do. The boss has to know about my driving that car after the robbery, and about the drugs, but not every coworker I come in contact with. I want to have a clean slate with people I have to work with."

"The boss does have the right to know." Dunovant snickered and nodded toward the house. "Now that boss knows you were convicted of armed robbery, too. I just told my mother you're an ex-felon."

"Great. Thank you," Josh muttered.

Lord, please don't let me hit him. I want to hit this jerk so bad, Jesus. That's what he wants me to do. He wants me to come across as this violent guy.

A violent...ex-con. Yes, in fact, he had used that term to describe himself.

But he would deal with that later. Unable to bear meeting Elliot's gaze, he walked stiffly back into the garage. Elliot and Dunovant, who must have felt he'd done enough to hurt him by now so he was silent, followed right behind him. He only spoke up when he saw Josh knock at the door leading to Sally's kitchen instead of going back to the truck.

"What're you doing?" Dunovant asked.

Sally opened the door. She seemed subdued, not quite as cheery as before. "Yes, Josh?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Sally? Please?"

Her son mumbled a swear word. "Not without me present, I don't think so."

"Just Josh right now, please." She opened the door fully for him to enter, then closed it right in front of her son.

He walked into the kitchen. She must have been expecting guests that night, because he noticed the slow cooker was on and she had been dicing carrots, onions and zucchini on the cutting board resting on the kitchen counter. Her kitchen reminded him of Valerie's, so neat and inviting.

"I know you're busy, Sally, so I—I'll make this short," he said, avoiding her eyes as well. "I understand if you don't want me in your house. Uh, I didn't tell you about that because I—well, there's a lot of stuff about that you don't know about, but I won't take up your time with it right now.

"Just, please, don't take this job away from my friend. Elliot's a good worker. He's hardworking and he's honest. He'll do a good job for you. He'll do your floors real nice. Don't punish him because of me."

She had been listening quietly. "Are you...quitting on me? Before you even start?"

Josh dared to glance up at her face. Would his mother have looked like that, if she had lived? He would never know because she was much younger than Sally Bazolli when she died. He stared down at his sneakers.

"No. I'm just trying to spare you the trouble of firing me. And I'm asking you to please not fire Elliot."

"I'm not firing you, Josh. I would have appreciated knowing—well, that." She shook her head. "But it doesn't really matter. I understand you not saying anything. Please don't quit. I was really looking forward to getting my floors done. I want Elliot to do them...and you."

He refused to look up. His hands, thrust into his pockets, shook mildly from emotion. "You sure it's okay?"

"More than okay. Listen, Josh, your boss gave you a chance. You still have your job, too. You wouldn't have it if he didn't trust you. Josh? Honey, look at me." She waited for him to lift his head before saying, "You have my trust, too."

"Okay. Okay, Sally..."

"So I'll expect you Thursday night, right? Not Elliot and someone else. Elliot and you."

"Elliot and me. I'll be here. Thank you, Sally," he said, his voice cracking when he said her name.

Confidentially, she said, drawing closer to him, "And don't pay attention to Aaron. He's my son and I love him, but he's got some of his dad's mean streak in him."

More than some, Josh thought, but he respected Sally too much to say it out loud.

"You don't have to explain, ma'am. But again, thank you." He managed a smile. "I'll see you Thursday."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Practice for She Likes the Weather had ended early enough that Saturday, giving Valerie a couple of hours or so on the beach. It wasn't often that Kylie had a Saturday afternoon free, between work and other activities. Valerie waited until they had set up their little spot on the sand before opening up to her.

Her best friend's excitement subsided, though she tried not to show it. Kylie rubbed sunscreen on her lightly tanned legs before responding.

"So Josh asked you to go out with him, but what you really expected him to say was that he's been to jail?" She adjusted her sunglasses. "That's a big difference."

They had brought Kylie's cooler with them, since it was larger than Valerie's, and loaded it with cans of Sprite, bottled water and baggies of fruit. She offered Kylie some frozen grapes but she refused them. Valerie tossed them back in the cooler and reached for her own sunglasses.

The girls traveled light. Just the cooler, their canvas beach bags filled with tubes of sunscreen, a magazine or book, their cell phones, and a towel for each of them. Each had also brought her own beach chair.

"A very big difference," Valerie agreed, not sure of what to say.

Kylie didn't seem to be experiencing that problem. "What did he do time for?"

"Possession."

"Of what kind of drugs?"

"That, I don't know."

"Okay, well, so that's it? Just possession?" She might've known she would have to divulge the whole truth. Kylie was smarter than to let it go with only a sliver of information.

"Possession...and armed robbery."

"Armed robbery?" Disbelief singed her words. "Josh? Josh Coleman? When I think of guys robbing a store and waving guns around, I don't see this sweet guy like Josh."

"When I think about drugs—the illegal kind, anyway, not that I think about them much—I don't think of him, either. Hard to see Josh getting high. But back to your question, Kyle...I don't know if it was a store he robbed. Or how many robbers it was. Or if he was the one with the gun. I don't know anything except that he was arrested and he went to prison for it."

"Uh-huh. And who told you all this?"

"Zed."

"Hmmmph. Now there's a pillar of integrity. Did you look it up online?"

"No."

"You don't want to know?" Her friend assumed out loud.

"No. I guess I don't."

Valerie knew what was coming, even before Kylie picked up her cell phone. She looked out at the water, where parents were wading with their kids and a teenager was setting out with an indigo blue boogie board.

"Find out right now..." Kylie held up her phone. "Yes? No?"

At home, Valerie had come close to doing her own Internet search. Funny, how nothing was secret anymore, how in many cases, almost anything could be found on a search engine. She sighed.

"Okay. Yes."

"Val, was that in 2002?" Kylie asked, tapping the phone screen with a fingernail.

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Oh, that's it. That's him. Guess that was his local paper in Parsippany. And there's a photo."

Accepting the phone from her hand, Valerie's eyes went directly to a picture of Josh. He was younger there, even slimmer, less muscular than he was now. He was on his way into a courtroom, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. He was flanked on either side by two uniformed police officers. His head was bowed and his hands were bound by cuffs in front of him.

"Send me the link," she said glumly. "I'll read it later."

"Okay." Kylie sounded rueful. "Sorry, Val. I was hoping the worst we'd find was that your ex-boyfriend was lying."

"I wish that was true, too."

"Does your mom know about this?"

"Ha! What do you think?"

A couple seated on their own beach chairs only a few feet away were listening to a radio. Aretha Franklin's "Natural Woman" was playing. With her head tilted back and resting against her towel, which she'd draped across the back of the chair, Valerie listened to the song's lyrics.

That was, bittersweetly enough, the way Josh made her feel to a "T".

"Does she have to know, Val? I mean, she likes Josh, right?"

"Yeah. She likes him...now. You know I'm twenty-five, but to Mom, I'm still her little girl that she has to protect."

"I know. Enjoy that, Val. I don't have that anymore. You'll miss that when she's gone, which hopefully won't be for many, many years."

Valerie glanced at her, but Kylie was staring out at the sandpipers playing a humorous game of tag with the tide, and a couple of toddlers observing them and laughing. Kylie's mother had died three years earlier of a heart attack, and every so often she would remember her mom and break down in tears.

Valerie squeezed her hand. "So I won't tell her for now."

"Nope. I mean, really, she doesn't need to know. But he does need to tell you about it."

"I know. I think he wants to, but he's afraid to tell me. And he's ashamed."

"Well...pray about it," Kylie recommended gently.

"I have. I am. Every day." Abruptly, she urged, "Don't stop liking him because of this, Kylie. I know you like Josh. Don't let this change your opinion of him just because of something he did when he was younger, when we don't even know the whole story—"

"I wouldn't do that, Valerie. You're right. We don't have the whole story right now. Now if he hurts you, that's a different story. If he hurts you, all bets are off. Nobody hurts you and escapes my wrath."

Valerie laughed, then became serious. "I don't think he would hurt me, Kylie. Not intentionally, he wouldn't. And I would never want to hurt Josh, either. You know...we should do something together."

"'We?' What do you mean, 'we?' You, me and Josh? I don't think so."

"No, no—you, me, Josh and Elliot."

"Elliot? Elliot Bauer?"

"That's the only Elliot I know. Nothing big or complicated. Just a picnic of a movie or something together."

"Elliot Bauer. Josh's friend. He's cute, but nuh-uh."

"Why not?"

"Because he's not for me."

"Kylie McCoy, I'm not asking you to marry him. Just go out, the four of us, have fun." With mischief glinting in her eyes, Valerie told her, "He is cute. Offbeat but cute."

"He's all right. I think I want an older man. Somebody more mature."

At the risk of annoying her, Valerie persisted. "Elliot is older than you."

"He's—what? Josh's age? That's not much older. You know how young guys are. They're afraid of commitment. I need somebody about thirty-eight, forty—"

"Oh, yeah. That'll go over great with your dad, who's in his fifties. And somebody that age is probably divorced. Already a father. Don't you want to be his first trip down the aisle? And his last? Or is it because a man that age is more established? More settled financially?"

"No, it has nothing to do with money." Shaking her head, Kylie stressed, "I'm a sale-hunting fashionista. I don't care about money. And I'd like to be his first and all that, but I don't see that happening. There aren't too many prospects on my horizon. That's why I want to lose twenty-five pounds. At least."

"They're crazy. Men are crazy. Because you're beautiful, Kylie."

Valerie knew those words, which were more truth than compliment, fell on deaf ears. For almost as long as she'd known her, Kylie had struggled with her weight, and in turn, her self-esteem. It didn't help that a couple of guys she'd dated had made remarks about how pretty she would be if she would only lose some weight. She was pretty enough, with or without the added weight.

"Before you lose weight," she said, trying a different tack, "you can decide to live your life regardless of what anybody thinks. Let's get all dressed up one day, just the four of us, and do something special and fun."

"I don't care what other people think. And I do live my life to the fullest," Kylie blustered. "Fine. I'll do it. Pick the date and the place, and I'm there."

Triumphantly, Valerie sank further in her seat, crossed her legs at the ankles, and smirked.

"I like when I win," she boasted.

"You're such a brat," Kylie scolded lightly, but then they both laughed.

****

Three youths were arrested on Monday night, charged with the crime of robbing the Sunshine Mini Mart at gunpoint, the West Caldwell Police Department said.

Daniel Badger, 19, and Steven Fontaine, 18, from Dover, brandished guns as they entered the store and left with over six hundred dollars from the register. Joshua Coleman, 18, from Parsippany, was outside in Badger's car. The three suspects were apprehended by police. Both marijuana and ecstasy were found during a search of the vehicle.

"I was ringing up a customer when two young guys walked in," Charlene Temple, the clerk on duty that night, said. "I could tell they were nervous. They screamed at me to give them all the money from the register or they'd kill me."

According to police, no one was injured during the robbery, though Badger suffered minor cuts and bruises when Coleman plowed the car into a guard rail during the chase.

"They weren't even going that fast," Police Chief Richard Dryden said. "There was no trace of drugs in the driver's blood, no alcohol. It was like the kid wanted to get caught..."

"What're you reading?"

Hastily, Valerie clicked out of the internet browser. She pushed her laptop shut.

"Nothing. Wasting time on Facebook," she told her mother, praying inwardly, Sorry for the lie, Lord.

"Oh, I think the whole internet is a waste of time," Mom sighed.

Linda Cuthbertson wasn't staying long. She had the day off from work and had passed by to bring her daughter a plastic container full of her favorite cookies, which she'd baked the night before. Mom never just breezed in and out; she'd lingered for a bit, helping herself to a cup of coffee before getting a call from a friend. She'd chatted out on the terrace while Valerie checked out that link Kylie had sent her.

"You're going to regale me with your tales of the horse-and-buggy days?" Valerie teased. "You know, i.e. your days when you were my age?"

"No, smarty pants. Your old and decrepit mother isn't going to do that. I stayed long enough. You have to get ready to go out tonight." Coming up from behind her daughter at the kitchen table, she gave Valerie a hug. "So where's Josh taking you tonight?"

"I don't know. It's a surprise. We're celebrating."

"Celebrating? Celebrating what?"

"The fact that he asked me to go out with him...and I said yes."

Her mother giggled, evidently finding that news cute.

"So does this mean you and Zed are through for good?"

"That's exactly what that means, Mom." Before placing the container on the baker's rack, Valerie helped herself to one of the homemade chocolate chip cookies. "You know, I still love Zed...but not like that. It's almost like he had a spell on me all these years, and that's why I kept going back to him, but now the spell is broken. I care about him. I always will, but I'm ready to move on, finally."

"You don't know how happy that makes me to hear that, honey. I've been praying for that spell to be broken for a long time."

Her mother often brought over one of her travel bottles, this one filled with water and those droplets of flavor she liked to add to make the water tastier. This time she'd filled it with what she called "sassy water," which that evening was water poured over ice, flavored with slices of apple and a cinnamon stick. Sassy water was an alternative to diet soda, sort of an addiction of Mom's. She grabbed the bottle from the counter where she'd left it.

"What's even better is that you're with a nice, decent guy, who's also a Christian," Linda said. "I hope things work out great for you two. I like him a lot."

"Do you? I'm glad he meets your approval." Valerie laughed, but she was only half joking.

"He does. I know you're the only one who has to like him, but it helps when your mother doesn't have to watch a man take you for granted and hurt you. If a man respects you, if he treats you with love and kindness, that's what I care about." Mom hugged her and kissed her forehead. "Go get ready. I love you, sugar baby."

"Love you, too, Mom."

You're a mama's girl.

Zed used to tell her that all the time. Good-naturedly he'd say it, because that wasn't something the man had said to be mean-spirited. Naturally, that was hard for Zed O'Neill to understand. His relationship with both of his parents had always been strained, particularly with his father who had, just like Valerie's dad, never taken much of an interest when it came to fatherhood.

He hadn't been too interested in being a husband, either, come to think of it. Valerie had never understood how her mother had gotten together with a man like her father. Randolph Welch, even in his youth, had never been all that attractive, though according to her mother he'd had a dry sense of humor and wit. To the young woman Linda Cuthbertson had been, Randolph had seemed like such an interesting and intelligent man.

Valerie stepped into her bathroom to shower. She reflected on how different her parents had been in their younger years. She could understand what her father had seen in her mother. After all, Linda was the quintessential all-American girl. Lovely, well groomed, a baton twirler in high school who also sang in the choir and performed in every school play that came along. She was outgoing, funny, charming and full of life...right up until she became pregnant at the age of nineteen.

Then your grandfather pushed us into getting married. But your father never wanted me for a wife.

And he was even more bewildered as to what to do with a tiny baby girl.

Fresh out of her shower, Valerie pulled on her robe and dried her hair. Then, at her bedroom closet, she stood deciding between a flowery, summery sundress and a pair of Capris and a lime green tank top. She chose the sundress.

I always thought I would marry my high school sweetheart. But we had broken up. He did come back, but by then I was married to your dad. I broke his heart and mine.

The heart that had been broken belonged to Drew Lingerfelt. The man who, much to Valerie's delight, had recently returned to her mother's life. They had spent more years apart than they'd shared together, but they were together again now.

Her father was an ambitious man who had ruthlessly climbed the corporate ladder in an investment banking firm. Yet that hadn't happened until after he had Linda served with divorce papers. They had been married for only about a year and a half. His lawyer had seen to it that he was obligated solely to pay a child support of five hundred dollars per month, but not alimony to Linda.

Then he ensured that his second wife sign a prenuptial that she was not to become pregnant. In doing so, she would be violating the contract she'd signed and would leave the marriage with nothing. Randolph himself violated that heartless contract, because his new wife did indeed become pregnant about three years afterwards and gave birth to a boy. Instead of divorcing her, he remained with both his wife and son in their Rye, New York home.

For all her life, Valerie's father had been a signature on a monthly check. He had never called her, whether it was her birthday or Christmas, or just to say, "Hello, sweetie, how's school?" like normal dads. She had met him once, more to satisfy her curiosity. At the time she was seventeen and was quietly reminded that "your checks will be stopping next year."

Like night and day: That was how she'd described her parents to people, including Zed and Josh.

And, yes, most enthusiastically, she was and would always be a mama's girl. Her mother drove her crazy sometimes, which went with the territory when it came to mother/daughter relationships. But her mother would always be her oldest and dearest friend, even surpassing Kylie McCoy.

Valerie was spraying cologne on her neck, in her hair and on her wrists when she heard the car horn coming from outside. She went to the French doors in her living room and opened them, stepping out onto the terrace.

"Whoa—stay right there, baby!" Calling up to her, Josh whipped out his cell phone. "Don't move!"

On a whim, he was taking her picture. Though it was supposed to be spontaneous, Valerie—being a woman—still posed for the shot. She rested her hands on the terrace railing and tilted her head to the side, smiling.

Wish I had my camera, too. Nevertheless, her memory took that photo of him looking so handsome in his dressier jeans, with a sports jacket over a shirt that stretched over his broad, masculine chest. He'd styled his hair for the occasion and in his free hand was a small box.

A gift for her. A token of love and thoughtfulness.

You are altogether fair, my love. There is no blemish in thee.

That was from somewhere in the book of Song of Solomon, a part of the Bible she loved and reread from time to time. Paraphrased, because Valerie wasn't good at memorizing scripture. Donna, a woman at church who also led Monday night prayer group, was adept at committing scripture to memory.

What Valerie did recall from that passage fit Josh and what she was feeling that night. It fit perfectly.

"Comin' up for you!" he shouted.

"Oh—Josh, don't take the stairs!" she called back. "I'm coming down right now. Give me a minute!"

"All right, baby!"

Tittering to herself, not because anything was funny but out of joy, she closed and locked the doors to the terrace. Rather than take her usual purse, she'd chosen her shoulder sling bag, the one with only enough room for her driver's license, keys, lipstick, cell phone and a few dollars, in case she needed quickie cash. Giving the apartment one last check—oven and stove off, coffee maker off and unplugged—she headed downstairs.

You should have bought him a little gift! she scolded herself.

Next time, she would. Josh seemed to enjoy giving her little gifts, as he enjoyed it now, kissing her before displaying the small box.

"A flower?" she asked.

"A corsage. Since we're going to our prom, I, as your date, have brought you a corsage." He sounded so serious and official, suddenly breaking into a chuckle. "That's our celebration. We're going to our 'prom.' Our private prom. No one else will be there but us."

"A prom? Ohhhh!" Valerie was jubilant. "I didn't go to my prom."

"No? I would've thought you did. I didn't go to mine. Didn't see the point since I wasn't really dating anybody special. And it wasn't the best time in my life." Gingerly, he removed the corsage from the florist's box and placed the elastic band over her hand and around her wrist. "But you're here in my life. So now it's time for a prom."

She recalled that time during her senior year. A sad time because Zed had broken up with her and had begun seeing a girl he'd met in college. Valerie had gotten into a minor tiff with Kylie for voicing her suspicion that Zed had broken up simply to avoid the expense and bother of a prom, since he'd been out of high school by then and didn't relish being around a bunch of teenagers for an entire night. Valerie had also convinced herself that missing her prom wasn't a big deal, anyway.

Until now, while gazing at her corsage. This one was dainty, comprised of five miniature, pastel pink roses surrounded by a pink ribbon and baby's breath. He must have caught on that pink was her favorite color. She thought about his words.

But you're here in my life. Now it's time for a prom. Easily, the same applied to him. Her heart felt like it would take flight at any moment.

Josh opened his car's front passenger door and waved her in regally.

"Sorry it's not a limo," he apologized.

She gave him a kiss before seating herself. "Doesn't need to be. This will be the perfect prom date."

If she hadn't looked up when she did, Valerie would have missed seeing him in the car's rearview mirror. It was as he was coming around the rear of the car to the driver's seat, and it was his profile, but he was dancing. Actually doing a little strut, happily reacting to what she'd just said.

She smiled to herself but looked away when he joined her, sliding into the front seat with the car keys in hand.

"This is the prom, but just keep in mind now," Josh began, "that this is your prom...Jersey shore-style."

CHAPTER NINE

Josh almost hadn't known what to come up with for their mini celebration. He had prayed for it, asking the Lord to touch his imagination. Valerie would either love it or hate it, but her response alone to the limo question had said it all.

This was no ordinary woman in his life. This was her. It was crazy, wildly romantic, but it was as if she'd fallen right out of his dreams and landed right in front of him. Like the dream girl that actually exists, and finding that out had been almost too wonderful for him to even put into words.

This will be the perfect prom date.

The exit from the roller coaster was narrow. He allowed Valerie to walk ahead of him, which gave him a view of her long hair bouncing behind her as she maintained a lively gait. Near the end she slowed down and glanced at him over her shoulder.

"One more time?" she suggested. "Or would you rather go ride something else?"

"You want to go one more time? I'm in, if you are."

"Cool! Let's do it, then!"

There were women, like some men, who were afraid of roller coasters and other heart-stopping rides. Then there were some who became motion sick, even on something as tame as the flying swings.

Valerie had none of those problems. She wasn't afraid of heights or speed, and she was relaxed, not the least bit dizzy or nauseous, on the spinning rides, most of which never left the ground or didn't get very far up into the sky. If anything, she led the way back to the line for the roller coaster, her hand in his.

"It looks beautiful, doesn't it?" she commented dreamily. "I love it at night, especially."

They were in the front of that car, which was treading slowly and cantankerously up its first peak. Josh looked out to his right, where from that height the Wildwood boardwalk appeared as one long strip of multi-colored lights, rides and people leisurely out for a late evening walk. To the left of that was the beach and the Atlantic, so darkly mysterious at that hour.

"I don't think there are too many places on earth as beautiful as a seaside town at night. But then..." Pausing, Josh laughed. "I've never been to that many places. I'd like to, someday. Just haven't—"

She looked as if she were about to say something but was cut off instantly by the car tipping over the peak and thundering down the track. Valerie cried out, the shout a sound of pleasure rather than a scream laced with fear. He saw her hand on the safety railing in front of them and covered it with his own.

"I've been to Florida. To Disneyworld, with my mom." Her laughter was such a sweet sound to his ears. "Another amusement park. Oh—and we drove all the way to Niagara Falls once."

"All my life living up here, never once went up there."

"They're awesome. The falls are beautiful."

"Go with me to see them again someday?"

"Yes. I'll go with you. It would be like—"

Seeing them for the first time. Had she said that? The roller coaster had taken some easygoing turns, then ascended up another peak. Whatever Valerie had said was lost in the fast-as-lightning descent down the second peak.

"We have to go for dinner," he told her as he helped her out of the car at the end of the ride. "And dancing. It wouldn't be a prom without those two things. I don't dance all that good, but tonight I'll do my best."

"I'm not much of a dancer, either. I can manage if it's a slow dance." She stood off to the side with him, out of the way of the adults, teens and children hurrying to the exit and on their way to the next ride. "Slow dances, I like."

"I like them, too. Especially...if I get to hold you." He wrapped his arms around her waist, and hers curled around his neck. "I know where there's a live band. They're not as good as your band, I'm sure. They play nineties music."

"Ah. Just what they would have played for our prom, too." He noticed she'd swallowed hard. Her gaze lingered on his lips but then met his eyes. "I wish you had been there at that time. Things would have been so much different."

"Much different. If you were there then." Josh noted the catch in his voice. "Things would've been different...and better. But you're here now."

"Feels like you've always been here. Like I've always known you."

"Don't ever leave, Valerie."

Why was he being so emotional? That wasn't like him. He pressed her against him, kissing her hair.

"Sorry, kids. You can't stay here," a female voice said behind them.

They had been blocking the walkway on the way off the ride. He smiled at the color rising in Valerie's cheeks and turned to face the motherly woman operating the roller coaster, who grinned knowingly at them.

"Sorry. We're going," he promised.

They were making their way back down the exit ramp. He walked on ahead this time, with her hand firmly in his. He heard her as they were coming back onto the boardwalk.

"Don't you ever leave, either, Josh." She stood gazing at him as he hugged her waist again. In his arms, she felt so diminutive, making him feel even more protective of her. "And don't...don't be this way with me now and then walk away from me or tell me things you think I want to hear. But they're not true."

He understood where she was coming from, yet he wavered slightly.

Tell me things you think I want to hear. Like...you've always been this clean-cut, squeaky-clean Christian, instead of this guy who got himself in some major trouble.

"I wouldn't do that to you. That's not me, Val. And I would never want to leave you. I'm in love with you. Just want to love you every day of my life."

Had he really expressed those words? They were the truth. He just hadn't meant to express them so soon. He'd intended to keep his feelings to himself, a little closer to his vest.

"I'm in love with you, too. My life hasn't been the same since I met you. Ever since I went fishing...and you caught me."

Chuckling, he cupped her face in his hands. That kiss was his to take. He knew he had kissed her before, but this kiss was different. More charged with emotion, more passionate and possessive.

There was no hurtful past contained in that kiss. Only a thrill more potent than any roller coaster ride, more colorful than a seaside boardwalk on an otherwise dark summer night. Reluctantly, he released her after the kiss.

"Little surprise for you," he announced. "But first we have dinner and music..."

****

The restaurant had been built on a wharf and was popular among tourists and locals alike for its seafood, though the burgers were worth writing home about, too. There were cozy tables for two available that night that Valerie and Josh could have taken, but they decided on two of the stools that were lined up at the railing. From there they had front-row seats to the view of the inlet sprawled out before them.

Below, to their left, were a few slips designated for boats belonging to customers, one of which was currently occupied by a nineteen-foot motor boat.

"I want to get one of those one day," Josh told her as they enjoyed their meal and sipped their drinks, which for her was an iced tea with lemon and for him was water with lemon. "My dad's always talked about getting one but he never has."

"That's because he's always lived far from the ocean?" It was a question, not a statement.

"Yeah. We had lakes, but my dad loves the ocean."

That brought up something else she'd been wondering. "What's he going to do about his house? He does have a house in Parsippany, right?"

"Uh—uh, no, he's got an apartment. We had a house, but Dad sold it a few years back."

"Oh. It was probably never the same for him after your mom died anyway, I'm sure."

"That's true." He hesitated before dipping one of his fries into ketchup. "The good thing is, it'll be easier for him to move. No house to sell before he comes here to live."

"He'll be staying with you first, or...?"

"He'll be staying with me. Eventually, he'll find a place. I told him there's no hurry. Naturally, he can stay as long as he wants."

She giggled. "You're a good son."

"I try to be," he managed to say. "Ah—look, the band's getting ready to play. Like I said, I don't think they'll be as good as your band."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't have a violin player, looks like," he teased, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder.

He could have told her then. It would have been the perfect opening.

It would have also killed the mood instantly. Decimated it. Because that was supposed to be more than a date; it was supposed to be a celebration. How could he admit to her that his father had lost the house because he'd had to pay for his son's legal fees? That he hadn't qualified for a public defender, and even if he had, his father would have insisted on getting him the best legal representation he could find?

Not tonight, Lord. I'm going to tell her. But this isn't the right night for it.

"Pretty sure I know her," Valerie was saying, looking over her shoulder. "Yeah, I know the drummer."

"You know her?" Josh turned at the waist.

"Her name is Summer. Summer, ohhh...I don't remember her last name."

"Easy name to remember. Where do you know her from?"

"The library. Where else?" She laughed. "If it's not church or one of the places the band plays, it's work. Sometimes I get that feeling that I've met someone before, but it's really someone who came to take out some books and I don't have much else to do with it. One of those ships that pass in the night kind of things."

"Uh-huh. Like a guy that you met one afternoon while you were fishing with your friend and he was fishing with his. And now here we are, both of us having dinner together and looking out at the inlet."

"No, both of us out on our prom. Remember?" Edging closer to him, she snuggled against his shoulder. "My real prom, even if I'd gone to it, wouldn't have been this cool."

"Mine, either." He went on, thoughtfully, "You know, that thing you said about people coming into the library, and you see them but you don't know where you know them from? That's happened to me, too, on different occasions. That ships-that-pass-in-the-night. It kinda reminds me of that scripture that talks about, something to the effect of, always be kind to strangers, because some have entertained angels without knowing it."

"I love that scripture," she said. "I try to keep it in mind sometimes. When I come into work already with an attitude, because it's a cold day or a snowy day and I didn't really want to be there in the first place. I try to keep in mind that the Lord could send an angel my way that same day...or a person who needs you to be kind or patient with them. Want to hear a story like that? About something that happened to me?"

"Yeah, of course!" His smile widened.

She set down her fork, seemingly more interested in sharing her experience with him than in her meal.

"I had this lady walk in one day," Valerie began. "She was really in a bad mood. She was annoyed with the library because we didn't have one of the books that she was looking for. Older lady, in her early fifties, but she'd gone back to school and she needed that particular book for research. Well, she was kinda rude to me. Our computers were acting up, as usual. Sometimes I want to pick up the monitor and throw it at the wall, except they'd fire me and make me pay for it."

Josh laughed with her. "Can't imagine why they'd do that!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" Her tone was jovial. "Anyway, you know, even though we're Christians, we get our bad days, too. We're human. I don't get snotty with people but sometimes I'll get an attitude, too.

"But for some reason, Josh, that day I didn't do that. God sometimes gives you grace. I was just at peace, and I know it wasn't me, that it was the Holy Spirit working through me. I was patient, and even gentle, with her, so I know it was Him. I apologized for the delay on behalf of the library for not having her book, and I offered to help her with whatever else she needed.

"The lady came back about an hour after that. I figured she'd thought of something else she needed, but she came up to me at the counter and said, 'Miss, I want to apologize for being so rude to you before. I just found out this morning that I have cancer. That's no excuse for the way I behaved toward you, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry.'"

Her eyes had moistened. Josh reached for her hand.

"You're still affected by that," he remarked.

"Oh, yeah. I'll never forget that lady. And remembering that experience always makes me stop and think when I come across someone like that."

"I know what you mean. Even though, have to say, there are people who are mean sometimes, the ones who treat you like they hate you or no reason." After a moment, he admitted, "Like this guy at work. I never did anything to him, but he treats me like his worst enemy."

Valerie nodded. "My half brother's like that. He's kind of passive aggressive. You know, when they say something mean, and they've got this big smile so they can act all like, 'Oh, I looooove you! I don't know why you're getting mad at me!'"

Amused, he patted her hand sympathetically. "How do you handle that?"

"Hard to handle it when he plays innocent if you try to confront him. So, you know, I've come to the conclusion that the only thing I can do is forgive him. Love him, pray for him. But I don't get that close anymore because he doesn't want a sister. He wants someone to hurt. I'm not taking that role in his life anymore. I love you, I don't wish you harm—but I'm not giving you permission to continue to hurt me. But as for you..." She faced him. "What are you doing about your coworker?"

"Well, you want the Christian answer, what I know I should be doing? Or you want the dirty truth?"

That made Valerie toss back her head and laugh. "I think I can take the truth!"

Interesting thing to say. Josh licked his lips, giving that a second's thought before going on.

"Trying every day not to let him get the best of me. Trying not to let him goad me into a fight. It's not worth losing my job."

"No, it's really not, Josh. I know you're praying about it, too, but trust the Lord to either move you or him out of the situation. And pray for him. He's obviously not a very happy person if his whole mission in life is trying to make someone else's life difficult."

Out of the corner of his eye Josh saw the guy, walking slowly in their direction. Beside him was a redhead in white dress pants and a halter top, her slender arms hooked through his. It took a moment but Josh recognized him.

That was Zed.

He had only seen Valerie's former boyfriend once before, but he recognized him right away. Zed was with some other girl, too. More than likely he'd try to avoid his ex-girlfriend or mumble a hasty greeting, then guide his date as far away from them as possible. That was what most ex-boyfriends would have done.

Most ex-boyfriends, evidently, weren't this Zed character. His eyes met Josh's, then locked in any icy stare. As soon as he was close enough, he reached an arm around Valerie's shoulders, bent slightly to his side and kissed her.

Right smack on the mouth. In front of Josh and Zed's confused date.

"See, Alexis, that's what's wrong with this restaurant," he complained. "They'll serve anybody here."

Josh noticed the redhead laughed, though she was giving Valerie the once-over. Sizing her up in a way that suggested she wasn't impressed, and then she glanced fleetingly at Josh.

"Well, be careful. We could say the same thing." Valerie's comeback was shaky but without malice. "Great to see you, Zed. I don't think you've met my boyfriend. This is Josh Coleman."

"Hey, Josh. Pleasure." Zed offered his hand and spoke with the charm of a well-trained politician.

Regardless, Josh shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"And this is...?" Valerie prompted, looking at Zed's date.

"Oh—this is my beautiful date, Alexis Bridger."

"Bridgeman. Alexis Bridgeman." The redhead looked perturbed before flashing Valerie a smile that looked forced. "Hi."

"Hello, Alexis. Very nice to meet you."

"Hmmm. I'm sure."

That was rude. Josh swallowed the commentary.

Realistically, however, could he really blame the woman for her attitude? Certainly, none of that was Valerie's fault, but there was the woman's date, lavishing all that attention on the girlfriend who'd recently broken up with him, even kissing her directly on the mouth. Then, outrageously enough, Zed had also gotten her name wrong. Not surprisingly, she'd felt disrespected.

As did Josh. Disrespected...and jealous. Which, it was crystal clear, had been Zed's intention.

"You're looking dapper," Zed complimented him. "Guess the construction business is treating you well, huh, man? Good."

Self-consciously, Josh adjusted his watch. A good watch, not terribly expensive, but a kicked-up-a-notch Fossil that his dad had given him a couple of birthdays ago. He assumed Zed must have learned he was in construction from Valerie.

"I'm doing all right, thanks. Well—besides working with a company, I've also started a side business with my business partner."

Business partner. Ha! Sounds good! He knew he was bragging, but not completely stretching the truth. Besides, business partner sounded so much more official than best buddy.

Zed pursed his lips and nodded. "Glad to hear that. Best of luck to you."

"Thanks." Could he have written the guy off unfairly? Probably because of his own insecurities? Josh extended an olive branch. "And what do you do, Zed?"

"I was working for a few years with my dad's property management firm. Started my own business a couple of years ago. A restaurant I co-own with my business partner. It's doing very well, I'm happy to say."

"Uh-huh. Well, good. Glad to hear that."

It seemed like Zed was trying to sound humble, and maybe he was. For some reason, Josh discerned it was a tone he'd adopted, like an actor playing a role. Discreetly, Zed fidgeted with a chunky gold ring on his right hand. A gold chain peeked out through the unbuttoned collar of the man's shirt.

And to add icing on the cake...was that watch a Rolex?

Why would it matter?

"Can we get a table now?" Alexis sounded like she was bored or annoyed, possibly both.

"A table. Yeah. Let's do that." Under the glossy surface, Zed also sounded irked. He seemed to hover over Valerie as if about to kiss her again but must have decided against it. "Have a good night, you kids."

"You, too. And again, nice to meet you," Josh said.

"Same here, man. Really."

Alexis was saying something to Zed, her lips tight. Her words were drowned out by the band, which was finishing up a rousing cover of Bob Seeger's "Old Time Rock and Roll." The waitress came by to take their plates. Valerie took her up on her offer for coffee and Josh did the same.

"And what about something sweet? Can I tempt you guys into getting a dessert?" the waitress asked playfully.

Valerie smiled. "I'm really full."

"Me, too," Josh agreed.

"You guys suuuuuurrrrrrre? Our Death By Chocolate Cake is a very sweet way to meet anybody's demise."

Heartily, Valerie laughed. "Maybe next time."

"Thank you. Just the coffee and the check," Josh told the waitress, "when you get a sec."

"All righty. No problem. Thank you, guys."

"You've been awesome," Valerie told her.

"I'd come back here sometime," Josh said as he reached for his wallet. "With you."

"Okay. But next time, I'll treat," she said. "And I'm sorry about...you know."

"About what?"

"Zed."

"Zed? No need to apologize. You went out with him for a long time. We live in the same town. I expect you'll bump into each other a lot."

"Yeah, but...he shouldn't have kissed me."

"No. I'll let him slide. This time." He winked at her and she smiled. "He's...kinda well-to-do, huh?"

"His dad is. His restaurant business isn't his first business. And this one is struggling." Valerie shrugged, leaving it at that.

"My dad's a big supermarket manager, but he's not rich. And I don't suppose I will ever be, either." Josh took a deep breath before continuing. "But I'm a hard worker. And I try to be a good steward of what God's given me."

"Well, then, that's all anyone can ask of you." Leaning in closer to him, Valerie confided, "I'm never going to be rich, either, Josh. But you know what? I don't need a hundred pair of shoes. Or a house the size of the New York Museum of Natural History or anything. Being with a man who loves the Lord, who puts no one but Him above you and treats you right, is honest and kind, that's worth more than all the riches this world can offer you."

He swallowed hard. "That would be me. Because I love the Lord...and you—you, I could love forever."

She gave him the prettiest smile yet. "That's how I feel about you. Like I could love you forever."

Aware of someone standing behind her, Valerie blushed when she saw the waitress holding the check.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," the young woman said apologetically.

"It's okay," Valerie assured her. She waited until the waitress had set down the check before chuckling with Josh. "You know, they're pretty good."

He glanced at the check and tucked his credit card into the slot over it.

"You mean the band?" he asked. "Yeah, they are."

"And Summer, the drummer—oh!" She laughed hard again. "That rhymes! Anyway, she's amazing!"

"Hold on, Val..."

He wasn't really leaving yet, knowing that last song had been a cue between the band and himself. He turned Valerie to face them, several feet away, as that amazing and lovely drummer adjusted the microphone attached to her ear.

"This next song is going out to Valerie from Josh," she announced, earning surprised gasp from Val. "He told us that tonight is more than a date. It's their prom! I love that!"

The other patrons all seemed to find that as delightful as Summer did. She continued, "Josh wanted her to know that this isn't just their own, private prom tonight, but that she is his prom queen..." She hesitated, allowing people to voice their awwwwws, bringing laughter to both Josh and Valerie. "Now this is an old song, back from some great guys called the Monkees, and Valerie's mom named her after this song. So after hearing it online, Josh is dedicating it to her now. See here it is..."

Her heart full, Valerie turned as the band began to play and kissed Josh, with the restaurant erupting into applause and cheers.

Definitely more romantic and infinitely more awesome than any high school prom could have ever been!

CHAPTER TEN

Catherine Hager's bathroom hadn't been updated, literally, for decades.

The last time the master bath had been renovated was when she and her husband had bought the house in 1982. It was long overdue for a fix-up, but because of the costs the couple had put it off, saving their pennies, dimes, quarters, whatever spare change and dollars over the years.

It was a big job. One that would, with a crew of two, take more than a weekend to finish. Yet it would pay even better than the job they had done for Mrs. Hager's friend, Sally Bazolli.

As Elliot explained about obtaining the permit from the town that would be required before undertaking the job, Josh stood with his friend and the lady of the house in the room that was slated for renovation. Catherine Hager had a basic idea of what she wanted done; envisioning them, Josh grinned to himself. It would look terrific when it was finished, with all new fixtures that would include a garden tub and a walk-in shower, equipped with smoked glass doors. They could do the job, no problem. Only the time frame was in question.

Along with another thought that came to him while he stood there.

Had Sally told her friend about his record? Had she left that part out when she'd recommended their team for the job?

Or had the conversation included a discreet warning, something along the lines of...Just so you know, Josh has been in prison. You may not want to have any money or jewelry out in the open while those young men are in the house.

Lord, that is always going to hang over my head, he prayed silently.

It doesn't have to. Elliot is discussing business. Pay attention to that.

Josh stood up straighter. He knew some Christians were always claiming to know when God was speaking to their hearts. That time, he knew for sure that had happened to him, and the words came with a wave of comfort and assurance.

Regret over the past was forever hanging over his head. When he thought about it, he realized it had been nowhere in sight at Sunday service that past week. God's Holy Spirit had completely taken over the music and praise portion of the service. Josh had thrown himself so completely into just praising and expressing his love for the Lord, and in turn he'd felt so fully wrapped in those loving arms of the Lord's that the past, with all its failures and regrets, were nowhere in sight.

That was how he had felt the other night with Valerie, as well. When he was with her, how could he dwell on his past? The more time he spent with her, the more comfortable he felt around her. Yet everything felt new with her; it was like looking at the world with a whole new set of eyes, and the world seemed more exciting, while he felt more alive.

That's what it's like when you're in love. He smiled. Wherever that had come from, whether from the Lord or from himself, it was true.

"Josh? That okay with you?"

He snapped back to reality, looking from Elliot to Mrs. Hager.

"Sorry, I missed that," he admitted. "I was just thinking about the changes, how good they'll look in this room."

It wasn't a lie, he had been thinking of that. It was an answer that the lady of the house received with a warm smile. Elliot was the professional at that moment.

"We'll be starting on the job next Friday," he filled Josh in on the tail end of the conversation.

"Next Friday. Not a problem."

"Great." Elliot clapped his hands and nodded at the homeowner. "That okay with you, Mrs. Hager?"

"Absolutely. Listen, boys, I waited so long to get this done that another couple of weeks isn't going to make a difference." She nodded. "And please call me Catherine. I'm so excited because Sally loved the job you two did on her floors. Now come to the kitchen and I'll give that check for the first third."

"Cool!" Elliot's enthusiasm melted into a somber stare when she started down the stairs ahead of them. He whispered, "Daydreaming while we're closing a deal? Really?"

Josh whispered back a reply meant to be humorous, tapping his cell phone lightly against his temple. "Temporary mental blackout."

"That so? Well, try to stay focused here. Doesn't look good, you mentally blacking out while we're layin' down expensive Italian bathroom tiles."

That was intentionally funny, enough that Josh had to suppress a laugh. That was something he admired in Elliot, who over the years had been thought of as a bit of a goofball. When it came to work, he was unfailingly serious and centered. He had been working in construction longer than Josh and was talented and diligent at what he did.

"You're right," Josh conceded.

That was enough for Elliot, who let the matter drop after a nod. "Want to go for lunch before we get the materials?"

"That sounds good. Get some lunch," he repeated, plucking on the way to Elliot's truck.

They had both gotten into the habit of muting their phones right before discussing business, as they did at work. With his father moving that week, Josh had kept a closer eye on his messages. He saw that someone from an unknown number had left him a voicemail and clicked on it, listening to it on the phone's speaker.

"Hey, Josh! This Richie. Glad to hear from you, buddy. So glad you want to join us. Give me a call when you can and I'll fill you in on what you have to do to start. God bless you, brother."

Elliot had overheard the message and turned on his way to the driver's side, keys jingling in hand.

"Richie?" His best friend hadn't forgotten that name. "You're going to do the prison ministry?"

"Yeah. Been thinking about it long enough."

"You don't have a problem going back there?"

"I think I'm ready to do that." Then Josh corrected himself, "I am ready to do that."

"Well. I guess Richie did that for you, so you can do that for someone else."

"Richie was never in prison. He just had a burden for those who were in jail. God sent him to evangelize to the prisoners."

Elliot waited until they were in the truck's cab to say, "I don't know if I could do that. Sorry, Josh, I don't mean anything by that."

"I know you don't." To reassure him, Josh smiled as Elliot backed the truck out of Catherine's carport and back onto the street. "Not everybody's called to do that."

"Yeah. And not everybody's you, either."

"What do you mean?"

"Ahhhh..." Elliot laughed shakily. "I'm gonna get myself in trouble answering that."

"No, you're not. You can be honest with me."

"Well, you know...not everybody in there wants Jesus. Not everybody's a good guy. I mean, they're in there for a reason. Right?"

Josh licked his lips and gazed out the window at the now-familiar area of the town that had become his home.

"I didn't want Jesus, either," he said. "And the sad thing was, I was raised in a Christian home. But I didn't think living for the Lord would be as much fun as drinking and partying with my friends."

"Well, yeah, but that's just young guy stuff. You didn't deserve to go to jail. Those other guys, yeah—they did something wrong, but not you."

Spoken like a true best friend. Josh grinned at him.

"And maybe if I didn't end up in jail when I did," he gave voice to something he'd wondered about for years, "I would've ended up in the grave instead. Because I was doing some dangerous things, Elliot. And I didn't care. But you know, in God's eyes, the inmate isn't any worse than you and me. They might commit bigger sins, but any sin separates us from God unless we turn from sin and turn to Him."

Quietly driving for some moments, Elliot finally nodded. "I suppose that's true."

"It is. And there's a part in the Bible where Jesus said, 'I was in prison, and you came to see Me.' Obviously, Jesus wasn't talking about Himself. He was talking about going to see and minister to those who are in prison. He didn't say, ''I was in prison, and I didn't deserve to be there, and you came to see Me.' He only said, 'I was in prison, and you didn't leave Me there, without comfort and hope.'"

With a glance at Elliot, who was nodding, Josh continued, "Richie, and people like him—because there are women who go to minister to female inmates, too—took time out of his day to come see us. To see me. To share the gospel with me. He told me that even though my body was in prison, my spirit didn't have to be. And that there was nothing I could ever do that could keep God from loving me or Jesus from having died for me, like He did."

Pausing, Josh sat up. "I want to do that for someone else. Even if all I reach is one of those guys. I want to tell them what Richie told us in that room that day. That prison isn't the end of the road. It could be in this life sometimes, but it won't be in eternity."

"Then you should do that," Elliot agreed, smiling as he kept his eyes on the road.

"And you know something? I never told you how sorry I was for the way I treated you during that time. I guess I've always been ashamed of how I did that to you—how I threw your friendship away for my so-called friends...none of which are with me now."

That admission took Elliot by surprise. "That was a long time ago, man. You don't have to apologize for that."

"But you came to see me sometimes with my dad. And you made time to drop by the house that first day when I came home, finally. The only reason I got a job so quickly was because you helped me get one working with you." Softly, he said, "That's a good friend. I wasn't a good friend to you. We've been friends since before high school. I'm sorry I pushed you away and I took you for granted. I'll try from here on out to be a good friend to you, Elliot. Always."

"Brothers. You're my brother, not my friend. Like David and Jonathan in the Bible. You're David and I'm Jonathan."

Elliot remembered that? How long ago had it been—at least over a year?—since he'd visited Josh's church back in Parsippany. That was when he'd heard the pastor's message that had centered around the extraordinary friendship between King David and Saul's son, Jonathan. That had left an impression on his friend.

"Yeah, you're right."

"Want to stop there for lunch? We can sit on the river walk and eat, then go get the stuff."

Elliot wasn't one to dwell on stuff that was too sentimental. Josh grinned.

"That sounds good."

"Great. And I'm sure Jonathan was a jerk sometimes, but hey, David still was his friend. Probably because Jonathan had to put up with all of David's jerkiness, from time to time."

Laughing, Josh said, "That does happen, so, yeah...probably."

"Probably. Happens to friends sometimes. What I'm saying is...if it was me who was doing time, you still would've been there for me. That's the kind of friends we are."

"That's right."

Nothing else needed to be said on the subject. Still, a weight was off Josh's shoulders. He watched Elliot park the car in an available spot and they hopped out and stepped up to Catch a Quick Bite, which was a catchy name for the lunch stand on the corner. The place primarily sold hot dogs, cheeseburgers, wraps and sandwiches, usually served with a bag of chips and a regular-sized drink, all for six dollars.

The young woman on line in front of them turned, holding her drink and lunch, which had been placed in that well-known-around-those-parts white paper bag. That young woman was Kylie McCoy, and she recognized them instantly.

"Ah, stopping for some tofu and salad with alfalfa sprouts, huh, guys? Me, too!" she teased.

Josh chuckled but it was Elliot who responded first.

"Whatever 'tofu' is, I'll have it—as long as they drown it in melted cheddar," Elliot quipped.

"That's so true. Melted cheese or brown sugar. Put either of those two on veggies, and I'll never eat meat or fish again." She thought for a second, then clicked her tongue. "Okay, maybe I'd still have to have crab cakes once in a while..."

"You working today at the coffee place, Kylie?" Josh asked.

"Not today. I went in earlier just to cover for a new girl who couldn't make it, but I've got the rest of the day off. Me and Linda are going to the boardwalk to listen to Valerie play with the band tonight. You guys coming, too?"

She was looking at Josh, but he noticed her eyes darting at Elliot. His best friend was, ever so discreetly, checking her out. The girl really was one of those who took extra time with her hair and makeup. She could pass for one of those plus-sized models in her navy blue Capris and white-and-navy top, with cute high-heeled sandals that matched.

"No fishing lately?" Elliot asked. "What kind of fisherwomen are you two?"

"The kind that could blow you and Josh out of the water," she shot back, narrowing her eyes at him mischievously.

Flirting? Really? Holding back a smirk, Josh assumed Elliot suspected the same thing. He seemed to have lost his nerve and was frozen in place, blinking back at her.

"You're good at talking, but we've yet to see how you two would do in a challenge," Josh said, coming to Elliot's rescue. "Maybe next time we'll go out on a party boat together."

"Yes, please! I'd love to do that. It's been a couple of years. It's not cheap, so we've been fishing off the rocks or the pier instead."

"We'll treat you girls, me and Josh. We're rolling in the cash with our side jobs."

Josh looked from Kylie to Elliot. Did he detect a slight but definite tone of bragging?

"Rolling in the cash?" Kylie smiled and they all moved out of the way for another customer, since they were talking and she wanted to place her order at the window. "Valerie did tell me you were doing jobs for people. I didn't realize you were doing that well, though. Congratulations—that's good to hear."

"Well, we're hoping to get some business cards made up," Elliot continued, thrusting out his chest a little. "The main thing is finding time for all the jobs. With our full-time jobs, that is."

"That's really good, Elliot, I'm very happy for you. And...you, Josh."

Yeah, I'm here, too! he almost said, returning her warm smile.

"And what about the concert?" Kylie reiterated.

"Oh, yeah, yeah—what time are they playing?" Elliot asked.

"Starts at seven."

"I can be there. You, too, Josh?"

"Valerie told me about it. So, no, I wouldn't miss that."

"Good. Seven." Elliot offered Kylie a shy smile. "See you tonight at seven."

With a smile and wiggle of her fingers, Kylie walked back the short distance to her car, a cream-colored Kia.

"Showing off a little for the pretty girl, huh?" Josh taunted.

Elliot frowned. "No. Not showing off. We have another call for work that came in this week, too, don't forget that. So our business is really taking off."

"Yeah, but you made it sound like Donald Trump is contracting us to build his next hotel. Trying to impress Miss McCoy?"

"Impress her?" He made a face. "Naaahh. Besides, I told you. She's not interested in me. My dad says I'm unlucky in love. Among other things he says to me."

Josh stood behind his friend on line as he placed his order. Unlike Josh's dad, Elliot's father had always been a bit rough to him. Never physically, but the tongue had the power to wound even more than hands.

"She was flirting with you," he told Elliot. "She barely knew I was even here. Just paid attention to you."

"Why would she be interested in me? She's a beautiful girl." Turning his attention to the middle-aged woman on the other side of the window, Elliot ordered a BLT, a small bag of chips and a drink for himself. "What do you want, Josh?"

"You paid for lunch last time. I'll pay today. BLT sounds good. Having that, too."

"You really think Kylie was flirting with me?"

When he turned, Josh saw Elliot regarding him hopefully.

"Sure looked like that to me," he encouraged him. "Go looking nice tonight. Be yourself, you know, but...shave. Get your hair trimmed, if you got time. Dress up just a little. See what happens. If not Kylie...maybe you'll meet someone else tonight."

"No. I'll shave and dress up and stuff for Kylie, not some other girl. And I was showing off for her. You think she was impressed?"

"I don't know for sure. I was, though."

Josh had made the claim so seriously that it took a second for it to dawn on Elliot that he was being teased. With a light punch in Josh's arm, he made him laugh.

"Smart mouth!" Elliot muttered with a smirk.

****

Valerie hadn't been to Zumba since the spring, mostly because both her mother and Kylie were lackadaisical.

So that afternoon, even though she was playing with the band later that evening, she dressed in her exercise clothes and running shoes and headed to her class. The instructor's real name was Jamie Lopez, but for business purposes she called herself (and her trio of assistant instructors) the Dancing Machine. Classes were held in town, in Wildwood and in Cape May. That particular day, the monthly email Valerie had received from Jamie said they'd be meeting in the Living Word Community Church basement.

Wrapped up in her class, which lasted a lively and vigorous hour, she hadn't noticed two new faces in the dancing crowd until the class was over. One belonged to Suzanne Eaves, a former classmate from high school who hadn't been much friendlier before graduation than she was now.

And the other new face belonged to Summer Delaney, who recognized Valerie immediately.

"You work at the library, don't you?" the pretty redhead asked at the end of the class before taking a big swallow from her water bottle.

"Yep. That's where we know each other from." Valerie dried the perspiration from her neck with a hand towel she'd brought from home. She always looked forward to a shower after a strenuous exercise class. "But I saw you one night playing with your band at a restaurant. My boyfriend dedicated that Monkees song to me. You're an awesome drummer and singer."

The woman had been friendly and courteous before, and now she took even more of an interest.

"Thank you. I'm sure that's not true, but I do appreciate it." Summer laughed. "I wish that was my full-time job, but of course, it's not."

"Oh? Wouldn't I like that, too!" Valerie couldn't resist mentioning, "I'm a musician, too."

"Really? What do you play?"

"The violin. I was supposed to play the piano, but I guess God had other plans."

Summer's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "The violin. That's something you don't see a lot. Beautiful instrument."

"I think so, too. I play with Perry Stanfield's band, She Likes the Weather. We'll be on the boardwalk tonight at seven."

Wisps of Summer's hair had strayed from her ponytail with all the moving and jumping around they'd done. She removed the elastic ponytail holder, held it between her teeth, and combed her hair with her hands as she put her long tresses back up.

"I've heard of Perry! You know, I'm meeting someone tonight," she said. "Maybe we'll head over there to see you guys."

"Cool! I'll try to look for you after." Whether the woman did or not remained to be seen, but Valerie liked her just the same. There was something sweet and genuine about Summer Delaney. She was a few years older than Valerie, yet she seemed like a kindred spirit. "Where do you work, since you're not a full-time musician? That will happen someday, though. Just wait."

The other woman laughed. Her smile brightened her whole face, which was dusted generously with freckles.

"I'd love to play in a Christian band. Like Hillsong or MercyMe, you know," Summer said. "But right now, being a receptionist pays my bills."

"You're a Christian?" Valerie was happy to hear that. "Me, too."

"You're a Christian, too? So nice to meet another believer."

"Who loves the Lord and likes Zumba!"

Valerie was tickled to have made her laugh.

"Who loves the Lord and likes Zumba!" Summer agreed. "That's hard to find. Can't find anybody to come with me."

"Well, I'd love to be your Zumba buddy. My mom and best friend aren't always reliable Zumba enthusiasts."

"You know, I didn't catch your name...?"

"I'm Valerie Welch."

"Valerie." Pulling her purse's long strap onto her shoulder, Summer told her, "I have somewhere to go after this, or I'd ask you to go to the Beach Port Coffee for an iced latte or something."

"Well, I have to get home and shower, get ready before the concert. Can we shoot for next week to have that iced latte?"

"Sounds good. I'll be here next week, too. I'm paid up for the month on these classes."

"Me, too." Collecting her own purse, Valerie waved at her. "See ya next week."

"Next week, it is."

And a musician, Valerie realized on her way to the car that she'd forgotten that part. Summer Delaney was a Christian, and she liked to exercise to music. It made sense that two musicians would make music part of their workout routine.

Then again, music had always played a role in her life. Her mother swore it was because she'd listened to music through headphones while she was pregnant with Valerie.

She didn't doubt that was possible. Valerie also remembered her mother playing the oldies' radio station in the morning, not too loud but loud enough to rouse her sleepy daughter from slumber in the mornings before school as a little girl. She would wake up to the tunes of the Temptations, the Bee Gees, the Drifters, the Supremes and other singers and bands her mom had listened to as a kid.

It wasn't until she had parked the car and climbed the flight of stairs that she saw Zed. How different things were now; there was a time when Zed could show up announced, at any time of the day or night, and she would have been happy to see him.

Now? Her initial reaction was to think, Oh, noooo. I don't really have time for this. I was making good time until now...

But she had promised they would remain friends. It would be cold to just shove him away. At the very least, she could spend a few minutes with him, see if there was something he needed, and then excuse herself, telling him the truth, that she had a concert to get ready for that night.

As she drew closer, he turned, hearing her footsteps. He was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, his good shoes, and yet he looked flushed and disheveled.

Worse, she was nearly accosted by the smell of liquor emanating from him.

"Where have you been? I've been calling your phone all morning," he snapped.

"All morning? I had it turned down while I was in exercise class."

One glance at her cell, which she'd whipped out of her purse's side pocket, told her he'd exaggerated. There were three missed calls from Zed's number, all within the last half hour.

"I need to talk to you," Zed said. He was clearly slurring his words.

Valerie pulled her keys from her purse. "Zed, I just came home. I need to shower and get ready for a concert tonight—"

Under his breath, but in a voice loud enough for her to hear, he uttered a swear word.

"Your stupid concert can wait," he sputtered. "It's not like you're a rock star or something, come on. You play the violin, for Pete's sake—"

Instinctively, she stopped before inserting the key into the door's lock. "You've been drinking. Did you drive yourself here?"

"Yeah. But I did okay."

"No, that's—that's not good. You could kill somebody that way. Or yourself. Either way..." She tossed her watch a glance. "I'll take you home. You could pick up your car with a friend tomorrow or something."

Perry was not going to be happy about her being late. Yet if she hurried, she would have enough time to get everything done.

"Forget that right now, Val." Zed didn't push her, exactly, but he nudged her—hard—against the door. "I need to talk to you. Come on, please. Let's go in."

"Zed, what happened to your girlfriend? What was her name?"

"Alexis. Yeah, that's not working out between us. She's jealous and she's impossible."

And a lot smarter than I was, I'll bet, Valerie thought.

She remained calm. "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you need to take a break from seeing people for a while."

"No, what I need is you. Can we please talk, Valerie? I won't take up a lot of your time. Just give me a few minutes..."

Hearing someone walking up the stairs, she looked around. Fortunately, that person continued walking up the next flight of stairs.

She was embarrassed. She couldn't deny that. She didn't want any of her neighbors to see her standing in front of her apartment with a former boyfriend who'd very obviously been drinking.

"I don't think this is a good time to talk," Valerie said, trying to take control of the situation. "Let's get you home. And then we'll talk some other time, when you're sober—"

"Please, Val, I want to talk now. Give me a few minutes. You need to talk to me. You owe me that much."

Raising her head, she stared at him. "Owe you? Why would I owe you anything?"

"Because you do, that's all. We've been together a long time. And I've been trying so hard to get back with you and you just keep avoiding me and saying you want to be with that ex-convict." Zed glared back at her, his face growing redder, his expression sullen.

He had never looked so unattractive to her before in all the time she'd known him. There was no telling what would happen if she allowed him into her apartment, especially in his present condition.

"We broke up. I'm sorry, Zed," she told him. "Josh is my boyfriend now. You need to respect that. I'll always be your friend—"

"I don't want your friendship!" Zed raised his voice, then caught himself. Spittle flew from his mouth. "Why can't you just talk to me? I don't understand. You know me. You know I'm not going to hurt you."

That was true. Under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn't have been afraid of Zed O'Neill. He had been a lot of things over the years—unfaithful, manipulative, always out to get his own way—but he had never been abusive.

But don't let him in through that door. Not this time. Not the way he is right now.

"Look, I care about you, but you need to go home. I'll forget the concert. I'll take you home."

And she would call his parents, with neither of whom Zed shared a particularly good relationship, especially his dad. But she knew she couldn't leave him alone. She had seen him when he'd had too much to drink before, but never quite like this.

"It's your fault that I'm like this right now." It was a statement, calmly said, though his eyes were puffy and moist. "You need to be with me again. I'll be better from now on, Val. I promise."

"It's not my fault that you're drunk." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She completely disregarded that old and stale promise he'd made, time and time again, over the years. "I'm so tired of you doing that, Zed. Trying to blame your actions on me. I didn't force you to drink."

"Well, no, you didn't. But it's still your fault." He was flustered, mostly because he was unaccustomed to seeing her defend herself. "All because you wouldn't talk to me—"

One of the tenants from 2C, a couple of doors down the hallway from her apartment, stepped out of his home. The middle-aged man frowned to himself, overhearing their conversation, and decided on taking the stairs on the opposite side of the building. Valerie felt the heat rise in her face from the embarrassment.

"Come inside. You have five minutes to talk." She fumbled with her key as she unlocked the door. "And then I'm taking you home, and that's that. Five minutes, Zed."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Did you ever think that maybe things never worked out between you and Zed because God had something better in mind for you?

Valerie recalled those words now, exactly as Kylie McCoy had spoken them. Her best friend had brought up that question the last time Zed had broken up with her, citing that he needed time to think about their relationship. The translation for that was that he had met another girl he was interested in, and he didn't care if he jeopardized all those years he'd spent with Valerie or not. At the end, all Zed had wanted was a brief fling with the girl before pleading with Valerie to take him back.

How stupid I was back then, she thought as she drove with Zed, who was sprawled out in the backseat of her car. Stupid and blind.

Even more foolish because she hadn't heeded Kylie's words. Kylie had told her that Valerie saw herself as Zed's "rescuer." That he was self-centered and took advantage of both her love for him and her kindness, and that as long as she insisted on staying with him, God couldn't bring her into a relationship with someone who would be her heart's true desire.

And with him, you will always have to compromise what you believe, things he has no right to ask you to compromise.

That was also true. Valerie gripped the steering wheel tighter in both hands, biting back the urge to cry. In the rear seat, Zed sat up, steadying himself with a hand on the headrest of the front passenger seat.

"Look, Val, I'll pay for the violin," he mumbled. "I broke it, I'll pay for it. Okay?"

"Doesn't really help me right now," she shot back. She made no secret of her anger.

"Can't you just use the old one?"

"No, I can't. I sold it to help me pay for this one. I have no violin at all now, Zed. I have nothing to play tonight at the concert. I can get this one repaired, but I've never done that before, so it's something—oh, never mind."

Zed sighed. "I said I was sorry, Valerie. I didn't do it on purpose. And listen, if it was in its case instead of there on the couch, it wouldn't have broken."

She slammed on her brakes. He flew forward, catching himself with his hands on the seat in front of him. Before she could spout off a curse, she caught herself.

"I had every right to leave my violin wherever I wanted to leave it!" She raised her voice, almost yelling. "You were drunk and you fell over and knocked it off the couch. And then you fell on top of it. It was your fault, Zed. I'm not going to make you pay for it, but at least take some responsibility for your actions!"

That man never takes responsibility. It's always somebody else's fault. Always. Her mother's words, which he'd repeated over the years, reminded her at that moment.

More good advice she'd ignored for, literally, years.

"Can you pull over, Val? Please. If you don't, I'm going to be sick all over your car. And you're mad at me enough already."

"Fine. I'm pulling over. Don't you dare throw up in my car!"

Later on—much later, when she was done grieving for her violin—she would laugh at that admonition over dinner with Mom and Kylie. It didn't seem so humorous now, especially with the thought of having to tell Perry she was out of the band for a while. At least until she got the violin repaired or replaced it with a different one. If that time stretched out, he would probably replace her. Very highly probable. It wasn't like she was that good a musician that he couldn't find someone even nominally better.

Or he could do without a violinist. They were essentially a rock/pop band that also did some alternative music. Perry had hired her on in the first place only because he'd found the violin an interesting addition that could be worked into the arrangements. He'd even incorporated a little bluegrass and country into the band's repertoire, just to showcase her skills.

Still, he could replace her. Where would she get the money to get her beautiful instrument fixed? Would it be more affordable just to buy another one? Maybe, in the meantime, she could rent one from the music shop.

My violin. The one she'd scrimped and saved up to purchase. The one she'd been so excited to get.

After pulling onto the road's shoulder, she helped steady Zed on his feet. Stumbling all the way to a tree, he leaned against the bark, turning slightly to the side, and retched violently. Valerie made a face and looked away, feeling her own stomach churning. A strangled sound escaped her throat. She felt as if she, too, were about to be sick.

Then she looked around. Cars were passing along Route 9 South. No one was really paying attention to them. She would have hated for Josh or his friend, Elliot, to be driving by and see her there with Zed. Even though it would be difficult for anyone to get the wrong impression as to what was happening, when he was very clearly throwing up.

After a few minutes, Zed wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Slowly, painfully, he straightened up.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I've been better." He cleared his throat.

"Want a piece of gum?"

"Eeeeeeeeewwwwww. No. Not right now."

"Okay, well. The mint helps me when I'm sick. If it happens and I can't brush my teeth right away."

"Oh. Okay. Maybe you're right. I'll take one."

Discreetly, she consulted her watch. Even if she waited a few minutes, which she would do because she wasn't hurrying him back into her car until she knew he wouldn't throw up all over the backseat, she would still just be cutting it, time-wise. Maybe she could just show up and Perry would let her sing backup.

Even though she wouldn't have her violin with her. She bit her lip and tried to blink back tears.

Compromise. You will always have to compromise what you believe, things he has no right to ask you to compromise.

Her mom had said that about a year after Valerie's high school graduation. She had then asked her the question, You've already slept with Zed, haven't you? Honey, he will never commit to you. He's the kind of guy who takes what he wants, with no regard to what you want or need. That boy is not in the least interested in marrying you. If you get pregnant, he's not man enough to take responsibility for the child. And you don't know who he's been with or what he can bring back to you.

She was nineteen at the time, and in fact had been sleeping with Zed since she was eighteen. His reasoning had made sense to her, but then he was always persuasive and smooth: When two people love each other, he'd reasoned, they took their love to "another level." Those had been his exact words. A more intimate, physical level, where they loved and pleasured each other sexually. He'd also explained that, being a man, this was a basic need of his, and that he really wanted that need to be fulfilled by her.

However, if she refused him, she would leave him with no choice but to have that need fulfilled by someone else. Again, the fault rested with her...not him.

He'd said many other things back then, none of which mattered to her anymore. There'd never been talk of marriage unless she brought it up, and even less talk of starting a family. Zed had always assured her there'd be plenty of time for that, that they were both young and those things—marriage, kids, and he'd mockingly added the white picket fence and the dog in the backyard—would come eventually.

Thank You, Lord, that Zed knew better than I did in that case, she prayed to herself. Thank You that those things didn't come to pass with him. Thank You that Kylie was right. You did have something better in mind.

Her mother had told her that, sometimes, human love is blind. Mom could say that because she'd once fallen in love with Valerie's father, who had not brought her happiness. The man hadn't even saw fit to stick around after his daughter's birth.

She had been so taken to Zed O'Neill, so devoted to him, that she hadn't seen him for who he really was. Interestingly, that was a mistake he also had made of her.

Valerie hesitated before getting back into the car. A gust of wind blew her hair into her face and she pushed it away.

"Feeling better?" she wanted to know.

"Much."

When he chuckled, the wind tossing his hair, he looked so much like the old Zed, the one who'd stolen her heart. She smiled back at him.

"I'm really sorry about your violin, babe." That time she saw sincerity in those eyes. "I'd feel better if you let me buy you a new one. Or pay for that one to get fixed. Whatever you want to do."

"I don't know. We'll talk about that later." Valerie hesitated. "I can't rescue you, Zed. I never could."

He leaned against the car. "But you're good for me, Val. You keep me flying right, like my dad would say. That's probably why that other one wants to be with you. Because you probably keep him flying right, too."

"No, I don't. His Heavenly Father is the One that does that. He does that for me, too." She fidgeted with her keys, then looked him in the eye. "That's the One you need in your life. That's the only One who can rescue you. You're expecting a woman to do something that only God can do."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by a crestfallen expression. "I don't know God that well, but I think He wants me to let you go. That's not what I want, but...I do want you to be happy. I may not be perfect, and I know I've hurt you many times, but I do love you."

That was one of those few moments when that other side of Zed would appear. It didn't happen often, but that good part of him did exist.

After some hesitation, she admitted, "I love you, too. A part of my heart will always love you."

He nodded. With a shaky voice, he told her, "I'm letting you go. Just want you to be happy."

"Me, too. That's what I want for you, too."

A couple of steps forward brought her into his arms. He held her for a moment, crying quietly, as she cried also and prayed for him silently, with all her heart.

And the cars continued zipping by along Highway 9 South.

****

"Well, now, that's weird. She's just singing backup. Why wouldn't she be playing her violin? And why was she late?"

Josh turned to Kylie, but she appeared to be asking those questions more to herself. He wouldn't have been concerned, but realized something was wrong by the worry in her eyes.

Valerie had joined the band onstage during the second song, discreetly coming on without a word from any of the other musicians. Josh had been watching an old movie that week, and he remembered a line spoken by one of the actors, about it being "a diamond of a day," or something to that effect.

He could paraphrase saying that was a diamond of an evening. The weather was almost tropical, a night that belonged more in some exotic place, like Tahiti or Hawaii, yet it was the perfect Jersey shore night. A silky white, full moon lit up the starless sky. The band had performed four songs, including a decent rendition of Bon Jovi's "Blaze of Glory."

"You think the violin could've been damaged?" The question had come from Elliot.

"Oh, I don't think so," Kylie scoffed. "She loves that thing. That's her baby. She takes good care of it."

Elliot spoke up first. "That's weird, then."

"In all the times I've seen her playing with the band, she's had her violin. Either the old one..." Kylie stopped to smooth the leg of her Capri pants. "Well, she sold that, so it'd be that beautiful, new one. I hope it didn't get damaged somehow."

"No, I'm sure it didn't." Josh meant that to be an assurance to Kylie, but he didn't know for certain.

He was distracted when he saw Elliot stop to take a photo with his cell of Valerie with the band, showing it to Kylie first.

"Hold on, Kyle. I'll send that to you right now," he told her.

"Cool. Look up, Ell. Smile!"

Kyle. Ell. Those two had affectionate nicknames for each other now. Josh smiled. Once more, he felt like the third wheel...which was more than fine with him. He watched Elliot tip his head closer to hers and they both smiled exaggeratedly as Kylie took of selfie of them together with her own cell.

There were sparks flying between those two, no doubt about that. Elliot wore a pair of dressier jeans and a button-down, short-sleeved shirt. He'd shaved and made it to the hairstylist in time that day, getting his hair neatly trimmed. He actually looked pretty sharp, considering he rarely dressed up.

Kylie was in black Palazzo pants with a figure-flattering, Boho-print tunic. She had been subtle and friendly, lightly flirty with his best friend. Josh had to admit they seemed to complement each other—and they looked good together, too.

Then he riveted his attention back to Valerie. She had spotted him in the audience and smiled, yet he did get the feeling something was wrong.

Wrong with...her violin? With the band? Had Perry scolded her because she was late, and she was upset over it? Or because she'd told him something had happened to her instrument?

Or was it something that had to do with Josh himself? Yes, he'd waved to her and she'd only smiled back—but that was because she was performing. With the audience looking on, she couldn't very well wave back at him unless she didn't do it very obviously.

Maybe she knows. Somebody told her.

Again he was doing it, imagining something that hadn't yet happened. He pushed the thought from his mind and sat back in his seat, a bench they'd been fortunate enough to find available right before the concert began. Other people were in fold-up chairs that had been set up on the boardwalk, with some area on the sides to walk. The band's music seemed to fill the boardwalk. Yet that space in between songs were filled with the sounds of the night's gentle waves and the activity and voices on the boardwalk.

A perfect Jersey shore night, though not perfect because something was going on with Valerie.

"Hey, I am sooo late!"

Linda Cuthbertson came up from behind him, offering him a hug. Josh rose immediately as did Elliot, both waving at the spots on the bench they'd vacated for her.

"I'm okay, I'm okay. Got my own chair." Strapped to her shoulder was one of those folding chairs that was stuffed into a cloth holder. Linda pulled it out, telling them, "But thank you two for being gentlemen and offering an old lady like me your seats."

"You're not an old lady, Linda!" Kylie laughed with her. "Hey, and—you have any idea what's going on with Valerie's violin?"

"Uhhhh...her violin. Yeah, well, I'll tell you later, baby."

Josh waited until she was situated in her chair to sit back down. He exchanged a glance with Elliot, who gave the slightest shrug.

"Where's Drew?" Kylie asked then. "I thought he was coming tonight."

"I thought so, too, baby. Last minute, he couldn't come. Drew was upset about it, too. He really wanted to be here tonight. You know how that is."

"Mmm, hmmm."

To Josh's surprise, it was Kylie who then glanced at him.

What was it that had happened? Josh sensed that whatever it was, Valerie's mother didn't want to talk about it in front of him. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with him at all; maybe her ex-boyfriend was involved.

After another three songs, the band members made their way off the stage, leaving it open for the next band to perform. Three bands in total were playing that night. Josh noted how the musicians who could carry their instruments—the guitar and bass players—took them with them.

Valerie looked as if she didn't know what to do with her hands. Whatever had happened, her violin was gone. He had watched She Likes the Weather play before, and even he, not being a musician, could tell that the songs weren't at all the same without the addition of her sweet violin.

And the girl who had been named after a song appeared heartbroken about it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It didn't happen that way, so everything appeared off. Even the store looked different—much bigger, as if it had grown in size. Rather than remaining in the car, he was inside the store, facing the refrigerated area where the soft drinks and beers were stored.

And reaching into his jacket's pocket, Josh pulled out a gun. A large gun, like a 9mm Glock. He had no idea how it had gotten into his pocket.

"Don't shoot! Please!"

There were only three other people in the store. That plea had come from the fifty-ish clerk behind the counter. To Josh's left stood a uniformed cop, and holding another gun was one of his friends who was there that night, Danny Badger, eyeing him wildly.

"Shoot him, shoot him!" he ordered through clenched teeth.

The gun in his hands went off. By itself, without him even pulling the trigger. The cop fell backwards against a display filled with potato chips and other snacks.

Blood, everywhere. On the police officer's uniform, on the floor, on the walls, all over Josh's hands.

But it didn't happen like that. Why was it happening that way now?

I shot a cop, he was thinking, and now he was somewhere else. Outside, running so fast through a field of corn. I will never get out of prison now. Never. I'm gonna die in that place.

But it didn't happen this way! It didn't. Oh, Lord, please help me. Please make this stop.

No one had died, and definitely not at his hand. He continued to run, hiding himself under a bridge. Looking down, he saw his clothes stained with large blotches of crimson blood.

Then a door closed behind him. None of this made sense. Instead of being outside, he was confined inside a room with black brick walls. The place couldn't have been bigger than three feet wide. The door was made of steel, with only a tiny window.

There was no room to sit and even less to lie down. He could barely breathe.

It didn't happen this way. None of this was transpiring the way he remembered. The only thing that was the same, the only thing Joshua Coleman recalled from the real time was that all-consuming loneliness. A loneliness that was cold and hopeless and desperate, accompanied by the feeling that his life was over.

The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing, and dishes being moved around roused him out of sleep. He drank in a soothing breath and sat up, realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch. His father peeked in through the living room door.

"Oh, sorry, son. Didn't mean to wake you up. I was going to let you sleep for another few minutes," his dad apologized.

"That's okay, Dad. I'm glad you woke me." His head felt heavy, the way it did whenever he fell asleep in the afternoon. "I was having a bad dream."

"Oh. Well, then, great timing!" Dad chuckled and returned to the kitchen.

Josh sat up. He looked around at the familiar surroundings—at the coffee table he'd picked up from the consignment shop in town, on which was placed his laptop, the TV's remote, and a half empty bottle of Coke. The television that sat catty corner near the windows, the loveseat, the end table, on which sat a lamp and both his cell phone and Dad's. All those familiar surroundings.

Home. His new home. Not a jail cell.

"Before I forget, Josh...Richie called you. He wanted to remind you about the PREA meeting."

Something inside him revolted, yet he managed to keep himself calm. After a dream like the one he'd just had, a message from the leader of the local prison ministry was the last thing he needed.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll give him a call in a little while."

"No problem. What's PREA?"

"That's this class everyone has to take before you can be part of a prison ministry. Um, it stands for..." Josh wiped a hand over his face, finally recalling out loud, "Prison Rape Elimination Act. It's federal. Required."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're involved in that, Josh. If you're ready for that."

I thought I was. Maybe I'm not after all.

He was still groggy and tired. That was why he didn't like taking naps in the afternoon because they always seemed to leave him even more tired. He would also be up later that night, like a little kid who became overtired. Josh stood and went to the kitchen, where his father was making for an early dinner for them.

"You're making pizza?" His son laughed softly. "Cool."

"Yeah. I figured you'd like that." Dad sprinkled shredded cheese over the dough and sauce. He spoke with a not-so-bad Italian accent. "That's a little mozzarella. Can't have pizza without mozzarella, right?"

'Nope. You make the crust, too?"

"Ha! I wish. No, I cheated on that part. Got it at our store. My new store, that is. I did make the marinara sauce, though. Make myself useful since I'm putting you out like this."

Josh was about to seat himself at the table. "You're not putting me out, Dad. I'm glad to have you here."

Dad grinned and tore open a package of pepperoni. "You're a good son."

"Better. I guess. I was a terrible son before."

"Hey. You were never a terrible son. Ever."

Josh looked up at him. Her voice cracked as he said, "We lost the house because of me."

"I never worry about that old house, Josh. But I'll tell you what I have been thinking about. About a new townhouse I'd like to buy eventually."

His father was changing the subject, a tactic that he resorted to when he didn't want his son dwelling on the painful past. He smiled back with appreciation.

"A townhouse?" he specified. "Not a house, Dad?"

"Naaa. I don't need a house anymore, with all its headaches. A townhouse would do nicely, with the homeowner's association taking care of the landscaping. Less work for me and more money in my pocket. I'm not getting any younger."

"Close by, though. Right?"

"The one I'm looking at right now is about a five-minute drive from this place. It's near the river walk, which I like. And I never want to be far from you again." Dad placed the pizza, pan and all, into the preheated oven. "And listen, you need to forgive yourself. That's all ancient history now."

"I did. I have, I mean."

"You couldn't have, or you wouldn't bring it up now. You have to let go of regret. Regret over the past is going to affect your walk with the Lord, Josh. And your relationships. Everyone you come in contact with. Even your relationship with Valerie."

"Mmmm." He knew his reply sounded noncommittal. Quickly, he added, "I know it does affect the way I think other people look at me."

"Of course. And look at you, Josh. It's affecting your ability to be grateful for the person you are now. A hardworking young man who's even going into business with his friend. A Christian. And who knows? You might even marry this girl."

His father took a seat in a chair facing him. Josh said, "I could see me staying with Valerie forever. I seriously am thinking about marriage."

"I could see that, too." Walter made no secret of how much he liked Valerie as both a person and a prospective daughter-in-law.

"But I haven't told her yet. I still haven't."

"You...no?"

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "No."

"Because you're afraid that it will change how she feels about you."

"I didn't get a chance to talk to her the other night after the concert. She seemed a little upset...like maybe something was wrong."

"And...you think that has something to do with you? Maybe that has nothing to do with you, son," Dad explained. "This is something that will be between you until you get it out of the way."

"I guess so. I guess it's about time I said something by now."

"Probably better now than when you're marching down the aisle with her." Walter was only half teasing. "You need to know, too, where it is you stand with her. If your past makes a difference to her, then your relationship may not be as strong as you think. And you won't be going to talk to her alone. The Lord will be there with both of you. 'Where two or more are gathered...'"

Josh was quiet, mulling over what his father had just said. He figured it wouldn't take long for the homemade pizza to cook, so he would lend his dad a hand by setting the table.

When he moved into his own place, he'd carried on his parents' tradition of keeping a radio in the kitchen, getting a radio that also played music CDs. He loved that radio, because it was the type that could be attached to the bottom of a cabinet, this one set right above his canisters of cereal and Chips Ahoy cookies.

To his credit, Walter Coleman had youthful taste in music. As far as Josh knew, he still listened to older Christian artists—as well as secular artists—but he was also fond of newer, more contemporary Christian artists as well. Dad had put in one half of a compilation CD, and at the moment what was playing was Sidewalk Prophets' "Live Like That."

There was something calming about that—about listening to familiar, lovable music, while having a simple meal with his father.

The nightmare is over, Josh. The past is over.

And I'm here. Where two or more are gathered in My name...

Josh smiled and faced his father. "I'm really glad you're here, Dad."

"Oh, me, too. Living down the shore. We always talked about making that happen someday. Remember? And we're closer now, too—"

"No, I mean here. In my life. I really love you, Dad. I love you a lot."

Walter's smile was tender. "I really love you, too, Josh. A lot. And I'm very proud of the man you've become."

Their embrace was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. First setting the drinking glasses down on the table, Josh excused himself to get the door.

Standing on the front step was Elliot. Josh's eyes widened at the sight of him in a dress shirt and dressy black pants, his curly hair combed and tamed, his face clean-shaven.

"This is getting to be a regular thing with you now, huh?" Josh maintained a straight face. "And what's that? Cologne? You smell nice. For once."

"Yeah. Shut up, smart guy." Beneath the gruff exterior was Elliot's usual good-natured manner. "Just had a few minutes to kill before I meet Kylie at her church. Thought I'd drop by and say hi to your dad. Could care less about you."

"Same here, Mr. GQ." Josh tossed the tease right back at him and opened the door wider for him to enter. "Meeting Kylie at her church, you said?"

"Yeah. We're going to see a Christian play at a sister church in Cape May."

"Ohhhh, a Christian play! Nice of you to invite us."

On their way to the kitchen, Elliot gave him an apologetic glance.

"It's really the Youth Group that's going. A couple of kids couldn't go at the last minute," he explained. "And Kylie's good friends with the youth pastor and his wife. That's how we got the tickets. Otherwise, we would've invited you and Valerie—"

"Come on, I'm joking. Don't be so serious. It's not like we're putting up drywall or something, you grouchy old guy."

Ignoring him, Elliot smiled at Walter. "Hi, Mr. Coleman."

"Hey, Elliot!" Dad graced him with a big, welcoming grin.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your...late lunch? Early dinner?"

"Early dinner. And that's no problem. There's plenty. Want to join us?"

Elliot put a hand over his flat belly. "Ohhh, no, no. I couldn't. Besides, we'll be grabbing some dinner after the play."

"You sure? It's homemade pizza."

"Homemade pizza? Your homemade pizza? Yeah?" His eyes widening with interest, Elliot changed his mind. "Okay. Maybe one little slice."

We got plenty? Had his father forgotten how much that skinny, little guy could eat? Nevertheless, Josh checked the refrigerator for something to add to the meal as Walter pulled down an extra plate and silverware.

"I think we still have some salad left," Josh was mumbling, "if it's still fresh.'

"It is. I was pulling it out for us anyway."

"Oh, boy! Salad and pizza! Perfect." His best friend smiled at him. "And croutons? Got croutons? And Thousand Island dressing."

Ahh, wonderful Elliot! He hadn't been shy about eating at Josh and his dad's home since they were young boys. He also had a bit of kid-like taste in food. Meaning, he enjoyed a little lettuce and tomato with his croutons and Thousand Island salad dressing.

How he remained so thin was anybody's guess.

Josh pulled out a bottle of dressing from the fridge. "Only country French and low-fat Italian."

"Eh. Okay. I guess it'll do. Oh, and other reason I came..." Stopping to reach into his pants' pocket, Elliot drew out a thick wad of bills. He placed the entire amount on the table. "First third. For materials. Our next job."

Chuckling, Josh stared at the money. "Wow. Amazing."

"And we'll be done this week with the clinic job, so it'll be no problem finding the time to do this. We'll be finishing a basement. Owner wants it turned into a playroom for their kids."

"Oh, man! We are going to need the time!" Again, Josh laughed. "Love it, though."

Elliot's eyes glinted mischievously. "Me, too. And, buddy, guess who recommended us to the owners?"

"Sally. We should really hire that lady to do our PR work."

"Wrong. Try her son. He recommended us."

"He did?" Looking from Elliot to Walter, Josh filled his dad in on the meaning. "That's Aaron. The guy I told you about. The one who hates me."

"Hates us," Elliot said. "He ain't crazy about me, either."

Walter brought a bottled water out for the young man he thought of as a second son. "He can't hate you that badly. Not anymore, anyway, if he knows you're both honest and you do a good job."

That brought to mind that scripture, the one about someone who walks with the Lord finding that He will sometimes change an enemy's heart. It didn't happen often, and Josh would have never guessed Aaron Dunovant would have been as gracious as to recommend them for a job. He made a mental note to personally thank the guy the very next time he saw him.

"A basement. That's going to be a big job," Dad said with a low whistle of amazement.

"Big paycheck, too," Elliot agreed, turning to Josh and grinning. "Think about what you want to do with all that dinero, amigo!"

He nodded. With a pair of oven mitts, Walter brought the baking sheet out of the oven and placed it on the stove. The aroma made Josh's mouth water. His dad then grabbed the pizza cutter from the silverware drawer and sliced it pizzeria-style.

He has sent Me to set the captives free...

Josh knew the whole scripture. He had committed it to memory while still living, day to day, in that prison: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those that are bruised.

To preach deliverance to the captives.

Free. I'm free. The reality was that, before the prison doors opened, Jesus had unlocked and thrown open the doors of the prison his own heart of flesh had created. Why had he allowed regret over the past to imprison him again? No prison formed by human hands could be as unforgiving and impenetrable as the prison of being unable to let go of yesterday, with all its mistakes, brokenness and tears.

He came to set me free. Me, Joshua Coleman. His son.

"Who would like to say grace?" Walter asked, setting the pizza dish on a large enough trivet in the center of the table. "Elliot?"

His dad had asked Elliot to say grace in the past. Usually the response was a shy grin and hands thrown up in the air. This time, Elliot agreed readily and bowed his head.

"Thank You, Lord, for this day, for this food," he prayed simply. "And thanks for this family, for Dad and my brother, Josh. Thank You, too, that I'll be seeing Kylie in a little while. We love You. In Jesus' Name, amen."

"Amen. Enjoy!" Josh picked up his glass and clinked it, first against Elliot's glass, and then his father's.

Think about what you want to do with all that money.

He had a pretty good idea of what he would be doing with his cut of the money, though he didn't have it yet. Paying for that particular thing would require some serious stepping out on faith.

****

It was 4:45 on a Friday evening, almost time for the library to close and the work week to be over for Valerie. That was when, of all people, Perry stepped up to the counter as she was scanning a stack of books, checking them back in. He smirked at her, his eyes completely obscured by a pair of sunglasses with mirror-like lenses.

"First time ever I see you in here," she remarked. "You read?"

"Do I read? Hmmm. Very condescending of you to assume I don't, young lady." He laughed, letting her know he was only kidding around.

"Okay. Well, do you?"

Valerie smiled, even though it saddened her a little to see him. They hadn't spoken since that day of the boardwalk concert, when she'd shown up without her violin and was only able to sing backup. That was the same day she'd informed the band that she was taking a hiatus, at least temporarily, until either she or Zed could replace the instrument.

"I do. I love the sports page in the paper. Read it religiously." He removed his sunglasses and hooked them onto the front of his shirt.

"That's something. You're reading more than a lot of other people."

"And I love sci-fi. Vampire books. Freaky stuff like that."

"Oh, now that's interesting. I can see you being a sci-fi guy, Perry."

"Yep."

"Got something you want to check out now?"

"Nope." He rested his arms on the counter.

Getting him to talk was sometimes a challenge, unless the subject was music, but she tried anyway. "How are the guys?"

"Fine. Everybody misses you. That's why I brought you something."

"You...brought me...?"

Valerie couldn't finish her sentence. From behind the other side of the counter, Perry brought a musical case and set it down in front of her. She recognized the shape immediately.

"That's—that's a—"

"A violin. Yep. Not as nice as the one Zed broke, mind you. But we went in on it together, me and the guys." Perry shrugged. "It'll do until you get your fixed."

Her eyes moistened. "I can't believe you guys did that for me. That's so sweet."

"Uh, well...open it. See if you like it. And if you don't..." He stopped her gently with a hand on her wrist. "Use it anyway. Please, Val, just for now. We miss having you in the band. And our sound's not the same without one of our musicians."

She glanced around. Most of her coworkers were busy cleaning up for the day and the supervisor was nowhere in sight. Ivy, the new employee, was busy checking books out for patrons. She returned her attention to Perry.

"I'll pay you guys back," she promised.

"You don't have to, sweetie. It's really not that good a piece, but it was the best we could do on short notice. It's used. Picked it up at the music shop." He went on, "Not everybody's got a violin player. I mean, a guitar player, a pianist—I can find one of those anywhere. But someone who can play the violin? That's special. You're special, Valerie."

She looked from him to the instrument. It actually struck her as more beautiful than the one that had been destroyed.

"Practice is tomorrow morning. Couple hours." He grinned. "See ya there."

"Sure. Of course you will." She pushed open the waist-high door and came out from behind the counter. "Thank you. Tell the guys I said thank you, too."

"You can tell them yourself tomorrow."

Perry was awkward when it came to physical affection, it simply didn't come easily to him. Yet he accepted her hug with a chuckle. He replaced his sunglasses back onto his face. "I put the music we're working on for this week in the case, too. I think it's a song you'll like. There's a violin solo in it. See ya tomorrow."

"Okay. See ya, Perry. I love you guys."

He had started walking away but looked back at her. He stammered, "Uh, well, well, we love you, too, Val."

A secondhand violin. Nowhere near as expensive or exquisite as the other one had been. Yet as she inspected it, she realized she'd never owned a grander, lovelier instrument.

A guitar player, a piano player—I can find one of those anywhere. But a violinist is special.

What was that other thing he'd said, too?

Not the same without one of our musicians.

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord. It hadn't been that long since her violin had been gone, but it amazed her, how much she'd missed it. That scripture, Psalm 98:4, had been more than just a well known and often-recited verse in her life. To her, it had been a source of inspiration, the fire that had kept her from quitting several times when she was learning to play.

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.

With great care and excitement, Valerie carried her new violin, safe in its case, out to her car. She placed it onto the passenger seat beside her. With that scripture in mind, she opened the Bible on her cell and found a similar passage in Psalm 149.

Let them praise his name in the dance: let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp. For the Lord taketh pleasure in his people...

"Thank You for providing this instrument, Lord," she prayed in a soft voice. "And You put it upon my friends' hearts to do that. I didn't even know they valued me that much as...a fellow musician...or a friend."

The phone rang. She closed the Bible and saw that it was Josh calling her.

"Hey, I know you just got out of work, right?" he asked on the other line.

Valerie turned the key in the ignition. "I am just about to leave the parking lot as we speak."

"Oh, so...you want to pass by the beach? Let's go for a little walk. I'd like to talk to you about something."

In that moment, her heart sank. How could that happen so rapidly? One moment she was feeling happy and blessed, and in the next she felt like her world was about to crumble around her. All because she could recall similar times when Zed had called her, asking if they could meet, that there was "something" he needed to discuss with her. Invariably, that "something" had always signaled the end of their relationship.

She sat, not pulling out of the parking spot. Valerie had the phone tighter to her car.

"Where do you want to meet?" she asked.

"Over by where the stage was for the concert. I can be there in ten minutes."

"I'll probably make it in fifteen, with traffic."

"Okay, baby. I'll wait for you."

"All right. See you in a few minutes." She set the phone down in the car's console and glanced at her eyes in the rearview mirror.

He was going to tell her that it was over. She had heard something in his voice, something that didn't sound quite right. She had thought that before, too, the last time he'd asked her to meet him on the beach because he needed to talk to her about something.

Maybe she'd only been a summer romance to him. Well, the summer was now drawing to an end.

The problem was, he had become more than that to her.

"Oh, Jesus, maybe I shouldn't have told him," she whispered as she pulled out of the parking lot behind the library.

She'd chosen to be honest with Josh. To tell him the truth about what had happened to her violin. He hadn't seemed upset that she'd seen Zed again, though he'd been concerned that she'd let him into her apartment when he'd been drinking. Josh was right about that. Anything could have happened.

Then again, maybe his request to talk had nothing to do with her old boyfriend. Maybe he had just come to the decision that he wasn't ready for a serious relationship. That seemed to be a recurring theme with the men in her life—not that there were that many of them.

She'd been hoping that Josh would be the last, and only, man in her life. Yet as she drove in the direction of Wildwood, she felt her heart grow heavier with the possibility that he was about to walk out of her life.

Maybe the problem is me, Lord, she prayed. Something's wrong with me. Whatever happens right now, please fill me with Your peace and Your strength. Please don't let me fall apart in front of him...when he tells me he doesn't feel the same way about me that I feel about him. Because I'm in love with him, Lord. Please help me when he tells me he's not in love with me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

At that time of year the kids had returned to school, meaning the vacation crowds had thinned. The same could be said of all the towns along the New Jersey shoreline. There were still out-of-towners on the boardwalk at that hour, still handfuls here and there walking along the beach, but it was after Labor Day and the lifeguard chairs were all empty.

From his spot near the ramp leading from the boardwalk to the beach he could see Valerie approaching. His stomach tightened and he cast a glance over his shoulder at the scene behind him.

The Atlantic was oblivious to the emotions colliding inside him. The water was peaceful, though they'd entered hurricane season. Locals, including Elliot and Valerie, had told him how unnerving it was to watch the winds and the waves pick up when a Nor'easter began its destructive journey through the Jersey shore points.

The Wildwood boardwalk, unlike Seaside Heights', for example, had been mostly spared Hurricane Sandy's wrath. He supposed he was thinking about that, because he had faced different kind of storms in his own life.

He battled trepidation, considering that he could be facing another tempest now. Josh looked up and forced a smile as Valerie walked down the ramp, having spotted him. He then looked around, peering up at the sky, but it was too early.

Lord, You really outdid Yourself with her! His smile widened as he greeted her with a hug.

Really, it didn't matter what clothes covered her or how she'd worn her hair on a particular day. That late afternoon, her long, brown hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders. Having come straight from work, she was wearing a pair of brown Capris, a navy blue peasant top, and a pair of brown, flat sandals.

He made that embrace last. After all...what if it was the last time he would be allowed to hold her?

Lord, please don't let a mistake from my past take her away from me. Prepare her heart for what I'm going to say.

Interestingly, she wasn't breaking free from his arms, either. She was in no hurry. She rested in the shelter of his strong arms, her head nestled against his chest. Then she lifted her face to his and he brushed a kiss onto her mouth.

He could say it now. He'd wanted to say it before. What had prevented him was the chance that she would think it was too soon, that his feelings for her wouldn't be reciprocated.

How stupid of him, to let fear get in the way of expressing what she meant to him. Now it didn't matter; now it could be the last time he would have to say those words.

"I love you, Valerie."

He watched her reaction. Why were her eyes misty, and yet she was smiling?

"And I love you." Even her little laugh sounded caught in a small cry. "I'm so glad I went fishing that day...and you caught me."

Josh relaxed enough to laugh. "Ahhh...I kept thinking it was you who caught me. If I knew that was what I would catch there, that I'd find you, I would've gone fishing there at that spot a long time ago."

But everything happens when it's supposed to. Dad had said that, or maybe a former pastor, or Richie from the jail ministry. It didn't matter who the words could be attributed to; it only mattered that they applied at that moment.

"Let's take a walk, okay?" he urged.

"Yeah. Okay."

He waited for her to remove her sandals. That way, she could hold them in her hand while she walked barefoot along the sand. He reached for her free hand, which had fascinated him by its cute, small size, how it seemed to disappear into his bigger hand.

Josh glanced first at the sky again, then at his watch. Yet he sighed, thinking that gesture could have been made for nothing, that seeing it would sadden them both. What he had done that involved the sky had been a gamble on his part...or rather, a step out in faith.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Josh?"

There was no running away from it anymore. He took a deep breath, walking slower.

"I wanted to tell you something that I probably should have told you before," he began. "About...something that happened to me before I accepted the Lord. I was younger and kinda stupid when it happened..."

Valerie kept her eyes focused in front of them. Without meaning to, she tightened her hold slightly on his hand, at the same time relaxing.

"When what happened?" she prompted.

"Well, I...I had these friends in school. Kind of friends who aren't real friends. You know, you have fun together, but..."

Pausing, he continued thoughtfully, "We had fun together. Kinda fun you can't have without getting into trouble. Anyway, I was out with them one night. And I was driving. We were just hanging out. They were getting high and I was going to do the same. We had pot and we wanted to stop at a store to buy some beer. They told me to wait in the car, so I did. I was driving.

"And I didn't know it, but they were inside that store...and they pulled out guns. They robbed the store. And—long story, short—we were arrested. I was arrested."

Josh halted in his steps. He looked down at his running shoes, dusted over with sand. He had released Valerie's hand and looked her in the eye.

"I was sentenced to the state penitentiary," he told her. "I spent two and a half years in prison. The only good thing to come out of that was that that was where I finally gave my life to Jesus. Sad, huh? I was raised in a Christian home, but I had to go to jail before I finally realized I wanted Him in my life."

Some seconds passed. His heart was beating hard against his chest.

Then she smiled.

"It doesn't matter how you came to Him. Just matters that you did," she said. "And, Josh...I knew you were in prison, but now I know the whole story. I'm sure it took a lot of courage for you to tell me that, and I respect that."

Had he heard right? He shook his head.

"Wait—you knew I was in jail? How did you know?"

"Someone told me."

"Someone—who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"How long have you known?"

She took a deep breath. "Probably pretty much from the beginning."

"That—from the beginning?" At last, he broke into a smile. "Oh, baby. You knew...and you still—"

"And I still love you. That's right. What you were before you came to the cross doesn't change who you are to me now. The Josh Coleman I know loves the same Savior that I do. He loves to fish, like I do. He makes me feel so special just when he looks at me...the way you're looking at me right now. I'm proud of who you are." She looked happy, yet about to cry. "I thought you were going to tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore."

"That I wanted to break up?" She had thought that before, too. It seemed the past had also haunted her. He took her by her waist, pulling her in close. "Val, you're the perfect catch. Why would I ever want to throw you back?"

She laughed with him and hugged his neck, sharing a healing kiss with him.

She knew. She knew, Lord!

And all that time it still hadn't mattered. He heard the engine above them, approaching.

Josh turned her around and eased her against him, covering her eyes with his hands.

"Here's the other thing," he announced. "My other reason for walking on the beach with you tonight..."

At just the right time, he dropped his hands to her shoulders. Above them was the small Cessna, streaming across the darkening sky. Behind it trailed a banner that brought a gasp from Valerie.

The banner read: I LOVE MY VALERIE—MARRY ME—JOSH

"I love you," he spoke up before she could answer. "I didn't know what you'd say. Still don't. Especially after I finally told you the truth. But I want you to know...that I love you for the beautiful, awesome girl you are. And there's no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with. No one else I'd rather start a family with. The only one I want in my heart and my life. So...will you?"

With tears filling her eyes, Valerie managed to keep her voice steady. She hugged his neck. Beyond the tears, he could see the love reflected in those same eyes.

"Of course, I will," she answered. "My catch of a lifetime!"

THE END

About the Author

Connie Keenan, who has also written under the pseudonym Consuelo Vazquez, is the author of more than twenty-five novels and novellas and over one hundred short stories published by women's magazines. With many more works to come, she's mostly written Christian fiction and sweet contemporary romance. She loves hiking, discovering fun little shops, trying out new recipes, and spending time with her family. Connie and her husband Bill live in North Carolina. For more information and updates, visit her on her blog, http://conniekeenanwriter.blogspot.com.

