A few days later, Ruth had a follow-up appointment with her orthopedist. Afterward, she and Samantha stopped for lunch.
“The doctor says I’ll be out of this boot and into a splint in another five weeks.” Ruth slid onto the seat of the booth. “And that means I’ll be able to drive again. I am so ready for that.”
“Gran, you’re going to make me feel unwanted.” There was a teasing glint in her granddaughter’s eyes.
Ruth was glad to see it. Samantha hadn’t seemed herself lately. Ruth longed to ask why, but something in her granddaughter’s demeanor kept her from posing any personal questions.
“The next five weeks will go by in no time,” Samantha said.
“I confess I’ll be happy when I can get in the car and go someplace whenever I want. I’m used to more independence than this injury has allowed.”
Samantha picked up the menu from the table. “Mom says we come from a long line of strong, independent women.”
“Very true.” Ruth smiled, images of her mother, grandmothers, and aunts flooding her memory. “But not so independent that we haven’t loved our families with our whole hearts.” She touched the back of Samantha’s hand. “Just as I love you.”
“Thanks, Gran. I love you too.”
Ruth saw the tinge of sadness in her granddaughter’s eyes. She’d seen it there for the last several days. She could only guess at its cause, although fear and lack of confidence were almost always at the root of Samantha’s unhappiness. This much she had become aware of through the years.
The server came to take their orders. Both Ruth and Samantha ordered salads, although different kinds.
Alone once more, Ruth was about to pick up the conversation where they’d left off, but Samantha’s phone rang, stopping her. Her granddaughter looked at the screen, hesitated, then tapped Accept. “Daniel.”
Ruth heard the male voice of the caller but not the words.
“No, that hasn’t changed. End of July.” Samantha looked down at the table. “Sorry, Daniel.”
Pretending disinterest, Ruth unwrapped the napkin from around the table service and carefully smoothed it flat before placing it on her lap.
“You’re joking. When exactly?”
Ruth glanced up and tried to read Samantha’s expression.
“I see . . . No, I don’t think so . . . Yes, I could manage that . . . Of course. I’ll let you know . . . All right. Good-bye.” Her granddaughter lowered the cell phone from her ear and tapped the screen to end the call.
Ruth sensed an internal struggle and held her breath.
Samantha dropped the phone into her purse before meeting Ruth’s gaze. “That was my boss.”
“It sounded important.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. He says I’m being considered for a promotion. In fact, he’s certain it will happen this time.”
“When will you know?”
“He wants me to fly to Portland on Friday to attend some meetings.”
“That’s not much notice.”
“I know. But I could go and come back on the same day. As long as there are still seats available, I can catch a flight at six in the morning and land back in Boise before eight at night.”
“You know the airline schedule off the top of your head?”
“No. Daniel checked before calling me.”
“That was thoughtful of him.”
“Thoughtful? Maybe. But that’s not usually a term I apply to Daniel.” She drew a deep breath as she lowered her eyes again. “This might be the best thing for everybody,” she said softly.
Ruth wondered if she’d been meant to hear the comment and waited for an explanation. She didn’t get one.
“You’ll be all right if I decide to go for the day?”
“You know I’ll be fine. And Camila is right out in the shop if I need anything. You go do what you need to do and don’t worry about me.”
Marti Barbera—a casual friend, as well as a colleague— awaited Samantha at the curb outside the Portland terminal, where she’d texted she would be. Samantha dropped her briefcase into the backseat before joining the other woman in the front.
“You look good,” Marti said before merging into the busy airport traffic. “Time away has been good for you.”
“Thanks. How’s it going for you at the office?”
“All right, I think. Daniel doesn’t like me much, but I don’t think he can complain about my work any longer.”
“Daniel doesn’t like anybody.” Samantha released a humorless laugh.
Marti didn’t join in. “He likes you.”
“Me? No. He depends on me is more like it. He’s been my boss almost from the start of my employment at Whitewater. He’s used to me.”
They fell silent for a while, allowing Marti to negotiate the rush-hour traffic without distraction. Once they were safely on the freeway and into the flow of weekday commuters, Marti took up the conversation as if they’d never left off. “I think you might be wrong about Daniel. He does like you. I heard he put your name forward for that new position and has been pressing the big bosses to approve you for the promotion.”
That would be a change, Samantha thought as she stared out at the drizzly morning.
The closer they got to their destination, the more she felt like an old-fashioned alarm clock that had been wound too tightly. It wasn’t nerves about the scheduled meetings. It wasn’t even anxiety over whether or not she would get the promotion. But what was the cause of this crazy feeling?
Whitewater Business Solutions was located in a three-story brick building on several acres of land. Flowers bloomed on all sides as well as in planters and beds scattered throughout the parking area and the perimeter of the property. The interior design, especially the lobby and meeting rooms, had an understated, yet elegant appearance.
“Welcome back, Sam,” the receptionist said with a smile.
“Thanks, Theresa, but I’m not back yet. Just visiting for the day.”
She and Marti headed for the elevator and rode up to the third floor. Once there, Samantha received more words of welcome from various coworkers.
“Samantha.” Daniel stepped out of his office as he spoke. “Glad you made it.”
She gave him a smile and a nod. Marti excused herself before heading in the opposite direction.
Daniel looked at his watch. “We’ve got half an hour before the first meeting.” He motioned toward the desk behind him. “I’ve got a few calls to make. You might as well look over things in your office, see what hasn’t been done while you were away, and then we can go to the board room together.”
“Sure.”
But she had no intention of looking over things in her office. She wasn’t back yet. She was on leave, and she trusted Marti. Instead, she walked to the break room to get herself another cup of coffee. When it was ready, she settled onto a chair and took her first sips of the strong brew—a drink that couldn’t compare to her grandmother’s.
It took a few moments of sitting in silence for Samantha to realize how unusual her response to her boss had been. In the past she would have done his bidding almost before he let it be known. She not only would have looked things over, she would have squeezed in as much work as possible before the meeting. Being on leave wouldn’t have made a difference to her. For that matter, she’d worked more than once while on vacation. But not today.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and the tightness that had begun inside of her on the commute released. She felt confident. No, more than that. She felt unafraid.
It was a good feeling.
Nick left the office in Caldwell shortly after four o’clock. He’d spent the last few hours untangling a supply snafu. Thankfully, he didn’t need to go out to the worksite again. He could call it a day.
But instead of driving straight home, he went into Thunder Creek to Sips and Scentimentals. He didn’t try to pretend that he needed caffeine after the type of afternoon he’d had. He wanted to see Samantha. Needed to see her. Their outing on Sunday had ended badly. Whatever upset her had left her uncommunicative, starting then and continuing throughout the week. He’d done his best to break down the barrier she’d thrown up, without success. He was sick of trying to solve things over the phone and via text messages. He was determined to talk things out today, to tell her how he felt and give her a more thorough understanding of his potential health issues. Then, if she still wanted to push him away or shut him out, fine. He’d have to live with it. But he wasn’t going down without a fight.
The only customers inside the beverage and gift shop were three teenage girls, one on a tablet and the other two totally engrossed in their smartphones. He glanced toward the gift shop, making note of the changes made since the last time he’d been in. But what he really wanted to do was to walk to the closed office door and knock.
“What can I get for you, Nick?” Camila called to him.
“I’ll grab myself one of those bottles of Diet Coke.” He moved toward the refrigerated display.
“Anything else?”
“No.” He walked to the counter, pulling his wallet from his pocket on the way.
Camila rang up the purchase. “She isn’t in the office.”
“What?”
“Sam. She isn’t here.”
Was he that transparent? Apparently so. He tipped his head toward the door that led into the house. “Is she with Ruth?”
“No. Sam’s in Portland.”
“Portland?” She hadn’t mentioned it.
“Yes. Something to do with her job. She might be getting a big promotion, Ruth said.”
His heart sank. “A promotion. That’s great. Tell her I wish her luck with it.”
A promotion. Was that why she’d been reticent to talk to him? She hadn’t wanted him to know about a possible promotion? Maybe she’d guessed what he had to tell her, and she’d thought it better not to give him the chance to do so.
“When will she know if she’s got it?”
Camila shook her head. “Ruth didn’t say.”
“How long is she staying in Oregon?”
“It was a day trip. She gets home tonight.”
He opened the bottle of soda. “Well, like I said. Give her my best. Ruth too.”
He left the shop, got into his truck, and drove home. Once there, engine off again, he pulled out his phone, opened the messaging app, and—against his better judgement—began typing:
Just heard news about promotion. Hoping for best. Have safe trip back to Idaho.
He stared at the screen for a few moments, then pressed Send. A whooshing sound indicated the text was on its way. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and got out of the truck.
“Come on, boy,” he said to Boomer. “I need to pack some more boxes. We move next weekend.”
As if in response to his comment, his phone rang. He hoped it would be a call from Samantha, even though he knew he shouldn’t want it, but a quick glance gave him his answer.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Nick. Your mom said I needed to let you know right away what we’ve decided. Instead of shipping the things you have in storage, she and I are going to bring it in a U-Haul. We want to see your new place. Then we’ll fly home after we’ve helped you with your move.”
“Dad, that’s a lot to ask.”
“Nonsense. It gives us another excuse for a visit. The wedding was kind of crazy, and we’d like to see more of Thunder Creek than the quick tour we got last month. You won’t mind putting us up for two or three days, will you?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I am kidding. I know you better than that, son.”
Nick gripped the phone between ear and shoulder as he unlocked the door to the house. “What day will you arrive? I’ll arrange for you to stay at the Inn at Thunder Creek for a couple of nights. That’ll be better than you sleeping at the new house, and you won’t have to put up with the chaos.”
“You’ve got a spare bed in storage. We can assemble it and—”
“No, Dad. You and Mom are going to stay at the inn. You’ll love it there, and you’ll get a good night’s sleep and eat good food too. Neither of those will be available at my place during the move.”
His dad laughed. “All right, all right. I’m sure your mother will approve of that decision.”
“Great. When do you expect to arrive?”
“On Friday evening. We’ll get an early-morning start. Hopefully by four. If we don’t have to make too many stops, we should roll into Thunder Creek no later than eight that night.”
“That’s a long trip in a miserable truck.”
“We’ll be fine. If it takes us longer, it takes us longer.”
“It’ll be good to see you again, Dad.”
“Same for us. And before you ask, yes, we’ve got lots of help to get the stuff out of storage and into the truck. A bunch of guys from church volunteered to get it done on Thursday.”
“I’ve got the same kind of volunteers on this end. My friend Derek began organizing help for the move before I could ask anybody myself.”
“Great. Sounds like it’s all in hand. We’ll let you know when we’re on our way on Friday. Forecast is for sunny and warm. Should be perfect for moving.”
“I hope so. Thanks again, Dad. Give Mom my love.”
“Will do. Love you back.”
After saying good-bye and ending the call, Nick paused long enough to thank God for his parents. Then, Boomer following him from room to room, he set to work filling more boxes.