Red, White and Blue Weddings: Red Like Crimson, White as Snow, Out of the Blue, Page 3

  “Mmm. Yummy!” Lorelei clapped her hands. “I love cheesecake.” The youngster bounded off into the house with her grandmother and Adrianne approached her father at the grill.

  “More food here for you to cook.” She nodded as she set down the tray.

  He opened the top of the grill and pushed aside large, juicy pieces of chicken to make room for the corn on the cob. “If you think this looks like a feast, you should see the baked beans your mother’s made. And the salad. You’d think she was feeding an army.”

  “What’s the special occasion?”

  “Ah. You’ve forgotten then?”

  Adrianne racked her brain, trying to remember. Not their anniversary. No one’s birthday. “What?”

  “Today marks the eight-year anniversary of the day you came back to Philly to be with us.” He gave her an endearing look.

  “Ah. Yes, you’re right.” Funny, since this morning she’d completely forgotten.

  “Seems like just yesterday.”

  “Not to me.” An exaggerated sigh escaped her lips. “Seems like a lifetime ago.” She pulled her jacket a bit tighter, fighting off the evening chill.

  “I remember the look on your face the night you sat me down to tell me you were expecting Lorelei.” Tears filled her father’s eyes as he spoke.

  “Oh, Dad. I’m so sorry. I’m still sorry for hurting you and Mom.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll admit it was a hard pill to swallow. Your relationship with the Lord was so strong, and I knew your convictions were, too. And I could see how disappointed you were in yourself. I guess that’s why I responded like I did.”

  He’d responded with all the love of a father aching for his baby girl to be made whole again.

  “You showed me love when I didn’t deserve it,” Adrianne whispered.

  “Don’t be silly.” He dabbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “How many times has God done that for me? He would ask me to do no less for you.”

  “Dad”—Adrianne pushed back the lump in her throat, grateful for his response—“I need to talk to you about something. I need your advice.” A little shiver worked its way up her spine as she mustered up the courage to forge ahead.

  “You do?” His lips curled up in a pleasurable grin. “It makes the old man feel good to know his little girl still needs him. What kind of advice are we talking here? Something to do with the museum?”

  “No. Nothing that easy.” She waited a moment, then finally the words came. “Chris is in town.”

  Her father immediately lifted his spatula from the grill and turned with a pensive stare. “Are you sure?”

  Adrianne nodded. “He showed up at the museum today.”

  “Looking for you?” The spatula trembled in his hand and he set it down on the side of the grill.

  “No. He’s in town for a wedding.”

  “Still playing the best man, or. . .” Her father paused. “Is this his wedding?”

  Adrianne tried to gauge her father’s expression. “Best man. But he didn’t come looking for me. We just stumbled across one another at the museum—a coincidence.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like one to me.” He shook his head, albeit slowly. “More like a God-incidence, maybe?”

  “Maybe.” She offered up a shrug.

  They both stood in silence for a while. Adrianne knew what her father must be thinking. He finally cut through the stillness with the question she knew he would ask.

  “Does he know?”

  “No.” She whispered the word as if afraid the evening wind might pick it up and carry it off across the city to wherever Chris was. “He has no idea.”

  Her father’s brow wrinkled. “Don’t you think it’s time, honey? I mean, don’t you think God has arranged all of this? I’m sure you’re nervous, but. . .”

  “I’ve always wanted him to know he has a daughter.” Adrianne pulled up a seat and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “I mean, I struggled with telling him when I was pregnant. And I let the months go by when I probably should have said something right away, especially in light of all the letters he sent that first year. But I was so worried about him pulling away from the ministry. . . .”

  “I remember.”

  “When Lorelei was an infant, I called the school to see if anyone knew where he’d gone. I was told he was on the mission field in Nicaragua.” Her heart twisted as she remembered the regret she’d felt that day. And yet, in the same breath, a certain amount of excitement had registered, too. How many times had he shared his dream of reaching out to the people of Central America with the gospel message? And how many times had she hung on his every word, like a starry-eyed schoolgirl?

  Her father’s face registered his shock. “Why didn’t you tell us that you tried to locate him? We always thought you didn’t want him to know.”

  Adrianne pondered his words. She had been terrified. At the time. But keeping the truth from him just felt wrong.

  “I tracked down the name of the mission organization,” she explained. “And when I found it, they told me he was out in the field, training the locals to dig water wells—hours outside of Managua.” She still remembered the swell of pride she’d felt upon receiving that news. “He was doing what he’d always dreamed of doing,” her voice drifted off. “And I didn’t want to take that from him. Besides, they said he couldn’t be reached unless it was an emergency.”

  “And you didn’t think it was?” Her father closed the grill and gazed into her eyes with compassion.

  “I—I don’t know. At least, I didn’t at the time.” Her next words were rushed. “I wanted to tell him, I really did. That’s why I tried so hard to find him. But relaying a message through someone else. . . I don’t know. It just felt wrong.”

  “Well, it looks like he has found you.”

  “Yes.”

  At that moment, the back door opened and Lorelei bounded out, her voice rising in glee. “Grandma bought me a present!” she squealed. She held up a Blu-ray case with one of her favorite new movies inside.

  Adrianne shook her head. “Good grief. It’s not your birthday.”

  Her mother appeared at the door. “I know that.” She shrugged. “But in a way, today is like a birthday for us. This is the day we got our daughter back. And it’s the day we found out about little birdie-bye here.” She ran her fingers through Lorelei’s soft curls.

  Silence permeated the backyard for a moment as that thought sank in. Eight years ago tonight, Adrianne had stood on this very porch and spilled her story to heartbroken parents. Amazing, how far they’d all come.

  “So, what were you and Daddy talking about out here?” her mother asked, as she placed pieces of chicken from the grill onto a large serving plate.

  “Oh. . .” Adrianne glanced at her daughter, knowing better than to delve into this with Lorelei looking on. “We were talking about—”

  “The past,” her father interrupted. “And the future.”

  “Oh?” Her mother’s eyebrows arched. “Something specific going on I need to know about, or is this father-daughter stuff?”

  It’s father-daughter stuff, all right. Adrianne looked down into Lorelei’s sparkling eyes—eyes that mimicked her daddy’s in full—and struggled to contain her emotion. How much more specific could you get than the life of a child?

  “I have some things to tell you, Mom,” she whispered on the sly. “But not right now. Right now”—she raised her voice—“right now, I feel like eating.”

  And with that, they turned their attention to the celebration dinner.

  FIVE

  The following day, Chris managed to slip away from his friends for a couple of hours to visit with Adrianne. He had tossed and turned in the miserably uncomfortable hotel room bed for the better part of the night, trying to decide exactly what he would say when he had the opportunity. Nothing could stop him now.

  He tracked down Adrianne at the museum, in the Wright Brothers display. She didn’t see him coming, so he spent a mom
ent or two analyzing her as she worked alongside a couple of others. Funny, she still pursued the task at hand with that same determined spirit he’d grown to love back in Bible college. How many times had he watched her dive into a project with such zeal? Nothing much had changed there, had it?

  And yet, he had to admit as his gaze followed her, this was a much more mature woman standing before him. She handled herself with such professionalism. And even now, as he examined her handiwork, Chris couldn’t help but think of how she might have fared on the mission field. Would she have worked alongside him with the people he’d grown to love in the outlying areas of Nicaragua? Would she have been willing to give all of this up to see his dream come true?

  Snap out of it, Chris. He drew in a deep breath and called her name.

  Adrianne turned abruptly, her face awash with surprise when she saw him. “Chris.”

  “Hey.” She nodded, but said nothing, though her eyes registered an interesting mix of excitement and nervousness. Was she happy to see him?

  “I waited till lunch time to come,” he said with a shrug. “I was hoping maybe. . .”

  “Ah.” She bit her lip, a habit he’d grown to love years ago.

  “I was thinking maybe we could sneak off to the restaurant,” he suggested. “Is that a possibility?”

  She looked around, a look of anticipation on her face. “I guess that would work. But I can’t be gone very long. We’re trying to get this display finished before next week’s fundraising dinner.”

  “Any amount of time you can give me will be great.” His heart raced as the words were spoken. Even two minutes with you would make my day.

  She stepped out of the display and began to run her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. “I’m sure I look awful.”

  “No.” He shook his head, unable to speak another word for fear the words would reveal too much of his heart. Instead, he reached up with a fingertip to help her brush a curl from her eyes.

  Big mistake, Chris.

  The minute his hand touched her hair, those old, familiar feelings returned. He let his palm rest against her brow for a second, his breaths coming a bit more slowly. Until this very moment, he hadn’t realized just how much he missed her.

  Adrianne’s cheeks grew pink and she pulled away. Almost too abruptly, she turned and began to walk down the hallway in the direction of the bistro.

  “So,” she began. “You’re in town for your friend’s wedding.”

  “Yes. Stephen Madison.”

  “Ah. Friend from work?” She gave him an inquisitive look.

  “Not really. I met him through the mission organization when I was raising funds to travel to Central America. He’s done some amazing work with the Nicaraguan people, and that’s partly because he grew up there. We’ve been close ever since the day we met, like brothers, really.”

  “Nicaragua.” She whispered the word, and her face appeared to pale. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

  “Yes.”

  They arrived at the bistro and walked to the counter, where Chris turned to Adrianne. “What would you like to eat?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Are you sure? Please eat with me.” He put on his best puppy- dog face and she laughed, then ordered a turkey sandwich with Swiss on wheat.

  “Mayo, not mustard.” They spoke the words aloud, in unison, and she turned, her face reflecting genuine surprise.

  “You remembered.”

  “There are a lot of things I remember.” Like how beautiful you look in blue. How those brown eyes sparkle when you get mad. How you love working like a maniac to get the job done. How you get silly if you stay up too late. Chris wanted to say more, but when Adrianne’s cheeks flashed pink, he turned, instead, to place his order.

  When the food arrived, they made their way through the ever-growing lunch crowd to find a table. He spotted one off in the distance and gestured. Adrianne nodded and they eased through a group of kids to reach it.

  “I’ve never seen so many elementary students in my life.” He looked around the room in awe, the voices of children ringing out on every side.

  “You should try coming on a Monday.” Adrianne glanced down at the children and smiled. “It’s pure chaos in here. Heavenly chaos.”

  As they sat next to each other at the small table, Chris turned to look at her one more time. Her eyes certainly lit with joy as she watched the children playing together. Not much had changed there, either. She’d always loved teaching the little ones at church, back in Virginia Beach. She would be great on the mission field. In his mind’s eye, he could see her working with local children in the villages. They would take to her like flies to a piece of watermelon.

  Just as quickly, he stopped himself, lest his hopes soar through the roof.

  “I’ve thought about your work in Nicaragua a thousand times,” she acknowledged, as if reading his mind.

  His heart skipped a beat. “You have?”

  Adrianne nodded. “In your last letter, you told me you were headed down there to work. I. . .” Her hands trembled as she opened her napkin. “I called the missions organization, hoping to find you, but you had already left.”

  “No way.” He stared at her in disbelief. “You tried to track me down after I left? They never told me.”

  She shrugged. “I never gave them my name. And by the time I called, you were already there, out in the field, no less. I hated to bother you.”

  “Hated to bother me? Are you kidding? I would have flipped the world upside-down to get to a phone if I’d known you were trying to reach me. Didn’t you know that?”

  She stared down at the table. “Maybe. Maybe that was the part that scared me the most. I was so confused back then. Dealing with so much. . .”

  As her voice trailed off, Chris couldn’t help but notice a tear on the edge of her lashes. He reached to lift her chin and gazed into those haunting brown eyes. “You’ll never know how much it means to me just to hear that you tried to reach me. Thank you for telling me.” His fingertips traced the edge of her chin, and she leaned her cheek into his palm. Chris’s heart quickened at her tender response.

  “I. . .” He offered up a shrug. “I can’t believe you never married.”

  He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t?” She gave him an inquisitive look.

  Chris pinched the napkin with his fingertips. “I. . .” He dared himself to speak the words. “I’ve never loved anyone but you. Not ever. I probably never will.” Where the courage came from, he had no idea.

  In response, her eyes seemed filled with love, and Chris knew, in that moment, she’d connected with his words.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  He reached to grasp her hands. “Sorry for what? We were two mixed-up kids who lost our focus. That’s all.”

  “That’s not all.” A pained look filled her eyes, and she pulled away.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I–I’m. . .”

  “Does this have something to do with what you were saying yesterday?” he asked. “You said you had something to tell me. Are you. . .” Was she involved with someone else? Was she afraid to tell him?

  The hurt in her eyes let him know he’d crossed a line. At that point, a man he recognized as yesterday’s tour guide appeared at the table. For whatever reason, Chris released Adrianne’s hands immediately.

  “Adrianne!”

  Chris looked on in curiosity as Adrianne glanced up at her coworker.

  “Hi, Joey.” Her face lit into a smile.

  A nervous energy laced Joey’s words. “Is this private, or could I join you?”

  If he sits down, I might have to punch his lights out.

  “I, um. . .” Adrianne shrugged. “I think it might be better if you didn’t right now. Chris and I are talking.”

  “Ah.” Joey’s eyes reflected his disappointment, but he moved on to another table.

  “Sorry about tha
t,” Adrianne whispered. “W–where were we again?”

  Chris shook his head, trying to figure out how to jump back into such a delicate conversation. He opted for a diversion, choosing instead to talk about the children he’d met on his various jaunts into the backwoods of Nicaragua. He told story after story, doing his best not to carry the full weight of the conversation.

  Every now and again, Adrianne would chime in, giving her opinion or offering up an ooh or aah.

  Finally, the moment arrived. Chris could delay no longer. His breath caught in his throat as the words raced out. “Stephen’s wedding is Saturday afternoon, but there’s a rehearsal dinner tomorrow night. It’s late, after the rehearsal.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes reflected her curiosity.

  “I was wondering. . .” I want you to go with me. I want to spend every available minute with you, don’t you see that? “Would you go with me?”

  Her lips pulled into a smile. “I’d love to.”

  Relief flooded his soul. “Thank you.” He reached to give her hand a squeeze, though he couldn’t help but notice the strained look from Joey, who sat a couple of tables away.

  “I’ll pick you up after the rehearsal,” he started.

  “No.” Her abrupt answer threw him. “I, uh, it’s not necessary for you to come to get me, not on such an important night. I can meet you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She gave a slight nod. “Yes. It’s not a problem. I know this city like the back of my hand. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay. Well, we’ve got reservations at the Penn’s View Hotel. Do you know where that is?”

  She nodded. “Of course. This is my city, remember?”

  “Right.”

  “I love that place,” she said with a dreamy look on her face. “It’s beautiful. Historic.”

  “Right. Well, just ask for the Conner party. That’s the bride’s last name. We’ll be in the restaurant—the Ristorante Panorama.” He loved saying the words; their Latin flavor reminded him at once of the language that flowed like water from his lips as he labored alongside his Nicaraguan coworkers.