Faith, Hope and Family. Gina Wilkins
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back, away from her mother’s tender touch. Away from the unexpressed request she simply couldn’t fulfill. She would certainly never be cruel to Isabelle—to any child, for that matter—but she couldn’t promise to accept the little girl the way the rest of the family had. Not if it meant forgiving what Deborah still considered to be unforgivable.
“I think I’d like to take a quick shower before dinner,” she said. “I still have sticky cola all over my leg from the movie theater.”
Lenore sighed, but didn’t push, since she knew it would serve no purpose except to make Deborah more defensive. “All right. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”
Half an hour wasn’t very long to repair a major crack in an emotional wall, Deborah mused as her mother left the room. But she could do it.
She’d done so plenty of times before.
Chapter Three
Lenore called Deborah to the telephone later that evening. Before Deborah could ask, Lenore added, “It’s Lindsey Newman.”
Deborah lifted her eyebrows in surprise. She couldn’t imagine why a woman she hadn’t seen in years would be calling her at her mother’s house. “Did she say what she wants?”
“No, she just asked if you were available to speak to her. You can take it in the den, if you like. I’ll be in the kitchen, making a cake for tomorrow’s church potluck.”
Deborah had been sitting in the den since dinner with her face buried in a thick book, leaving Lenore to help Isabelle with her bath, then read her stories and tuck her into bed. They’d all been perfectly courteous during dinner, Isabelle having returned to her sunny mood. Everyone had been very careful not to mention Dylan’s name, but Deborah had been ready for time to herself by the end of the meal.
She picked up the phone to find out why her peaceful solitude had been interrupted. “Hello?”
“Deborah, hi. It’s Lindsey Newman.”
“Lindsey. It’s been a long time.” There was a question implied in the statement, a polite prompting for the reason for the call.
“I know. Except for seeing each other at the weddings, we’ve hardly had a chance to speak in the past few years. Seems like when you’re in town, I’m always gone. Anyway, I know you’re wondering why I called.”
“Well, as a matter of fact…”
“I wanted to ask if you’re free for lunch tomorrow. Or if not lunch, maybe dinner?”
Frowning in genuine bewilderment now, Deborah answered slowly. “Actually, I am free for lunch. My mother’s got some sort of potluck thing at her church that I wasn’t planning to attend.”
“Great!” Lindsey’s voice practically bubbled with satisfaction. “So can you meet me? How about pizza? It’s been ages since I’ve had pizza.”
“I suppose I can. Is there any particular reason we’re meeting for lunch tomorrow or is it just for the pleasure of my company?”
Lindsey laughed. “Actually, there is a reason. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to wait until tomorrow to discuss it with you.”
“Okay, sure.” Though still confused, Deborah was perfectly willing to meet Lindsey for lunch. They didn’t know each other very well, Lindsey having been a couple of years ahead of Deborah in school, but Deborah had always liked the bubbly redhead. She was sure their lunch would be much more entertaining than the church potluck her mother had been trying to talk her into attending.
She was still curious when she entered the designated pizzeria at one o’clock the next afternoon. They had chosen the time in hopes of avoiding the noon rush, but the place was still crowded. She was glad Lindsey had arrived early enough to have a table waiting when Deborah walked in.
Wearing a hot-pink jersey T-shirt with a hot-pink-and-orange flippy chiffon skirt, Lindsey stood to greet her. The colors should have been awful with her mop of red curls, but somehow it all worked, making Lindsey look bright and fresh and cheerful. In contrast, Deborah felt almost subdued in the red polo shirt she had paired with a short, straight khaki skirt.
“It’s really good to see you,” Lindsey said with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with characteristic enthusiasm. “You look great, by the way. Love the hair.”
“Thanks. You look good, too.”
They took their seats at opposite sides of the booth, then chatted about inconsequential topics until they’d placed their orders and received their food. Lindsey was a close friend of Caitlin’s and had been the maid of honor in her wedding, so she and Deborah had no trouble making conversation, though they had spent little time together in the past.
“I always thought Caitlin and Nathan would make a good couple,” Lindsey said as she lifted a slice of Canadian-bacon-and-mushroom pizza. “Ever since he hired her as his partner in the law firm, there was always something special between them. Of course, when he took in your little sister, I wondered if Caitlin was prepared for a ready-made family, but it seems to be working out just fine.”
“Yes, the three of them seem very close.”
“I don’t know if I would have the nerve to start out a new marriage with a three-year-old to raise. I’ve sort of made it a policy not to date guys with kids. Too many complications.”
“Exactly the way I feel about it,” Deborah agreed, reaching for her soda.
Lindsey sighed. “Not that I ever have time to date, as much as I travel for my job. Which, by the way, brings me to what I wanted to discuss with you.”
Deborah lifted an eyebrow. She knew that Lindsey was a sales rep for a local company; she believed they manufactured fishing lures or some such sports-related merchandise. She couldn’t imagine what that had to do with her. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Rumor has it you’re between jobs right now.”
“In a way. I recently completed a contract in Tampa, and now I’m considering some other offers. But I really wouldn’t be interested in selling fishing lures.”
Lindsey laughed and shook her head. “I’m not suggesting you should. Actually, I’m considering opening a business here in Honesty, and I wondered if you would be interested in becoming a partner.”
Deborah set her plastic tumbler down to study the other woman in surprise. “Really? What sort of business?”
“It would be a franchise store. A company based in Chicago is manufacturing a line of modular office furnishings—some of the coolest stuff I’ve seen on the market. I’m not sure if you’re aware that my degree was in interior design. A long way from fishing lures, I know, but it’s something I’ve always been interested in. I sort of stumbled into the sales job when I needed to pay off college loans. It’s been so profitable, I’ve been slow to give it up, but now I’m ready to be self-employed and cut out some of the travel. Selling this furniture intrigues me, and since I know office design is your area…”
Deborah was technically considered an efficiency design consultant, her specialty being the maximization of office work space and effective traffic-pattern management. She didn’t select colors or fabrics or furnishings as much as she arranged for the best use of limited space, and her services had been in increasing demand among growing businesses that weren’t yet ready to expand into larger spaces.
She liked her job. Never too long in one place, no getting attached to people and then having to say goodbye. She much preferred dealing with blueprints and cutouts than trying to understand the complex workings of other peoples’ minds.
“I know you’ve been freelancing, and I’m sure you like it that way,” Lindsey rushed on when Deborah didn’t immediately speak. “But, think about it. Wouldn’t it be nice to expand the services you can offer? To provide modern furnishings that work well with your space-usage expertise? A partner to share the