Yuletide Proposal. Lois Richer
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“I want them to have a clear picture of what could happen if we don’t initiate this program.”
“You’re the negative, I’m the positive, which will make them more inclined to see this as a solution, a way out,” she mused. “Good idea.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Not so fast. By presenting this, I’m the one who’ll take the heat if something goes wrong or if the plan fails.” She paused. “Or is that the point?”
“I never thought of that, but it works for me.” He chuckled at her dark look. “You won’t take any heat, Brianna. I’ll make sure of that. Anyway, I have a feeling they’re going to embrace this idea. It will give everyone a kick start to make changes.”
“When’s the board meeting?” Brianna asked.
“Tonight.”
“What?” She gulped. “Zac, I need time to prepare.”
“No, you don’t. You always excelled at speaking off the cuff. I doubt that’s changed.” He stacked his papers together. “Be here at seven. I’ll rework the agenda so our plan will go first.”
“Zac, I—” Brianna panicked. What was she doing? She hadn’t been back in Hope that long. She didn’t even know who was on the school board. What business was it of hers to make a suggestion like this to people who’d probably see her as an interloper after so many years?
“Brianna.” Zac’s hand covered hers and sent a shockwave up her arm.
“Yes?” She refocused. His dark eyes gleamed with something—hope?
“This is for the kids—for Cory.” His fingers tightened against her skin. “Don’t think about anything else. Concentrate on the kids.”
Her free hand lifted to touch the outline of her ring lying under the collar of her blouse. The old Zac, the one she’d remembered, had smiled like that and made her think of possibilities, and infused her with courage when she most needed it.
The tingling in her arm magnified. Brianna drew away from his touch. What was it about this man that he could still get her to react with nothing more than a smile and a touch?
“You can do it, Brianna.”
There it was again, that encouragement she remembered so well.
“They’re just people,” he said quietly. “Parents like you who want their kids to succeed. We can help them, if we work together. If we get the town working together.”
How many years had she prayed, begged God to let her help kids, to give her the knowledge and grace to make a difference in the world? Her old job had denied her that opportunity. She’d felt useless, a cog in a machine that ground up and spat out those who didn’t conform. She’d done her best to help, but this would bring her the chance she’d longed for every time she’d pushed herself a little harder to finish her doctorate. This was why she’d clung to Zac’s ring and savored his past words of encouragement even when he was no longer in her life. Now he was telling her she could make a difference in Hope.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” Her nerves evaporated.
“Thank you.”
“On one condition,” she added.
“Brianna.” Zac sighed. “What condition?”
“Just listen.” She had to stand firm on this. “I have Cory, my mom in the nursing home and my dad healing from his heart attack. I also have my work. All of them take my time, time I’ll have to cut back on to help you. So I want your agreement that if and when you see a time and place where you can get involved with Cory, you will.”
“Cory? But what would I do?” Clearly Zac was not enthralled by the prospect.
“I don’t know. But there must be something.” Brianna leaned forward. “Cory’s on the wrong path and I need help to turn him around before his appointment with the judge at Christmas. I’ve agreed to help you out, Zac, now I want your promise you’ll do what you can to find some common ground with Cory.”
“I don’t know what I can do,” Zac murmured.
“You’ll think of something.” Inside she was desperately afraid he’d refuse, but she stood firm. “That’s my condition, Zac. Take it or leave it.” She waited, hoping he’d say yes because she really wanted to be a part of Your World, to make a difference, to see lives changed because of something she’d helped create.
“All right. If there’s something I can do, I’ll try.” That was all Zac said, but it was enough.
His secretary paged him then, so Brianna left. As she drove back to work, she realized Zac’s project was her opportunity. If she could just find the right words, share her vision with the school board, maybe she could finally help kids as she’d longed to since she’d left Zac—and this town—so long ago.
“Please don’t let me screw this up,” Brianna prayed.
Chapter Four
“Dad, why is Mom so insistent I revive her store? It’s been closed for years.” Fresh from a disastrous visit at the nursing home, Brianna flopped into a chair. “I don’t understand her obsession with that place.”
“Nor did I until last year.” Hugh Benson sank into his easy chair, his face sad. “I learned the whole story after a private investigator visited us. You see, your grandfather passed away last year. According to his will, his assets were then distributed to his descendents—Anita being his daughter.”
“A grandfather? In Iowa? But you never told me—” Brianna frowned at him.
“I never knew. Your mother told me when we were married that her father was dead. That’s all I ever knew until last year when your mother told me her father inherited a furniture store from his father. Anita grew up there. She worked in that store from a very early age, loved it and learned every facet of what went on. You know how adept your mother is at business. As an only child, she expected to one day run the family business herself.”
“Of course.” Brianna recalled her mother’s keen business sense. “She’d have been very good at it. She always had a flair for interior decor.”
“Yes.” Her father looked grim. “Well, Anita stepped in to manage the place when her dad had his first heart attack. She was only eighteen and did well, except she made a mistake. Her error cost the company money and her father was furious. A little later, when he was forced to retire, he refused to give Anita any control because of that mistake. He said she wasn’t smart enough or capable enough to carry on the business he’d inherited from his father.”
“Poor Mom. That must have hurt.”
“Yes, even more because he put some distant cousin in charge and made Anita one of the hirelings. The cousin made bad mistakes but no matter how Anita pleaded, her father wouldn’t recant. Anita was desperately hurt and left Iowa after her mother died. Her father told her not to come back so she didn’t. She never spoke to her father again. The bequest he left her was the smallest in his estate, smaller than the least employee’s. He punished her to the end.”
“So to get back at him, Mom created her own business to pass on to me,” Brianna guessed, glimpsing the past with wiser eyes. “That explains so much. But why didn’t she ever tell me?”
“Would it have made a difference?” her father asked, his face grave.
“You mean would I have given up my goal of psychology?” she asked. “No. But at least I’d understand why she was so determined that I stay. She was ashamed and embarrassed and determined to prove her father wrong by building her own business. Except I couldn’t be part of it.” Hindsight explained a lot.
“So now you know.” Hugh Benson’s pencil flew across the page, his caricature of Cory coming