God In The Kitchen Page 3

  I felt my eyes get heavy and smiled. Yep, it had most certainly been a dream. At least I knew the difference now. Meeting Abigail and even Chloe had been pure coincidence.

  One of the perks of working the early morning hours was having all afternoon off. I often stayed up too late at night and the boredom coupled with my fatigue often turned into afternoon naps.

  I almost half expected to see Evan in my dream that afternoon, but the only thing that plagued me that day was a little boy named Ian. I dreamed that he was in the hospital, struggling for every breath.

  When I woke up half an hour later, the question on my mind was one I knew would not soon go away. Why wasn’t Chloe going to let Ian have the surgery? She obviously loved the little boy.

  As much as I wanted to know, I knew that I couldn’t very well just storm back over to her apartment and ask. All I could do was fix her car and wait. I might get another chance to satisfy my curiosity, but in the meantime, I had done all I could.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The rest of the week flew by with my work obligations. By the time Friday rolled around, I was inundated with requests for weekend appearances, but I had my calendar well marked for my afternoon coffee meeting. It was something I had been looking forward to since I first met Abigail.

  Even after our disastrous interview on the air, she had been kind enough to give me a second chance. I texted her after my shift that morning, just to make sure we were still on. Text messaging is an interesting way to communicate. With emails, you almost expect there to be a pause because not everyone checks their email each second of the day. But pretty much everyone carries their phone at all times. When you send a text message, you usually get an answer pretty quickly.

  Abigail waited an hour. Or at least that’s how it felt. It’s possible, of course, that she didn’t even get the message until an hour later, but in my mind, she got it right away and had simply waited.

  At least she did answer eventually, though, and what she said was affirming. It wasn’t much, I guess. Just that she was still planning on meeting me for coffee.

  At the very least, I wanted to give Abigail a different impression of me. Even if there was nothing between us.

  I stayed late that afternoon working out the details of the weekend broadcasts and remotes I was to run. Saturday morning, I would be appearing at a local diner. I would broadcast live for a couple of hours and then hang around and talk with the listeners.

  I planned to take the afternoon off to relax and catch up on some bills and then that night, I would introduce the opening act at a concert. It was strange how different it was being in front of a large audience. I knew I talked to thousands of people every morning, but that was not the same. In the mornings, I was in a booth all alone, pushing buttons and talking to myself. At a concert, the people could see me and I could certainly see them.

  No matter how many times I did it, my hands still got sweaty and my knees still shook a little as I walked out into the bright lights in front of the cheering crowd.

  But that was over 24 hours away. What I needed to concentrate on right away was Abigail. I pulled her book out of the bag I had carried in to work that morning and opened the front cover.

  What Women Know that Men Should Learn, the title blared. Abigail’s name was just underneath in bold print. Just as I flipped to chapter one, my desk phone trilled. I hadn’t planned on reading the entire book at work. I just wanted to get a small taste before my conference call with corporate about some new procedures on the equipment. As the phone beeped again by my hand, I sighed. I wasn’t even going to get in one chapter.

  I picked up the phone, expecting the voice of my boss, the secretary up front, one of the sales people, or any of the other work-related individuals that might call. What I heard was a quiet female voice I didn’t recognize.

  “Jared?”

  “Yes?” I said, sitting up a little straighter my chair.

  “It’s Chloe…Chloe Marriet. From the accident?”

  “Yes, Chloe, of course! What can I do for you?” I asked, picturing her standing in her tiny kitchen clutching the phone to her ear.

  “I hope it’s okay that I called you at work. I just talked to Bill at the garage.”

  “It’s totally fine, don’t worry about it,” I said, reassuring her.

  “Anyways, I just called to thank you for what you did with my car. That was completely unnecessary…but thank you,” she said, rushing through her sentence.

  “It was the least I could do,” I said. “After I hit you, I felt like I killed it.”

  Chloe laughed softly on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I guess you kind of did. It was a long time coming, though.”

  “How long have you had that thing?” I asked, enjoying the conversation.

  “High school,” she said.

  “High school? Are you kidding me?”

  “No joke,” she said. “I saved my money for all four years before I bought it. It was barely used at the time. Now…well, it’s a little more used.”

  “You could say that,” I answered. “How many miles are on it?”

  “Oh, well over 200,000,” she sighed. “I plan to replace it someday, it’s just that, well…life gets in the way.”

  “I understand,” I said, thinking about my dad. Things had a tendency to take over and distract people from their goals.

  “Anyway,” Chloe continued, “I plan to pay you back for the repairs. I’ll need a little time, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.”

  “Chloe!” I said, nearly standing up from my chair, “Don’t you dare! I did that because I wanted to not because I expected you to pay me back.”

  “I know that,” she said and I imagined her long dark braid swinging behind her back as she talked. “And it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I just don’t feel right about it.”

  “What’s there to feel right about?” I asked, wondering why no one had ever done anything nice for her before.

  “I just…I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness. I really need this car to get to work and pick up my son. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

  “There’s really no need,” I said, beginning to relax. I was still hoping I could talk her into accepting the repairs as a gift.

  “I’ll let you know when I have the money,” she said as I realized there was no swaying her.

  “I look forward to hearing from you,” I said before I fully thought of what the phrase might sound like. I had meant that I was looking forward to talking to her again and maybe even seeing her in person. Once the sentence was out, however, it might have sounded as if I was looking forward to hearing from her because it would mean she had my money ready.

  “Okay then,” Chloe said, wrapping up the conversation.

  I expected her to say good-bye but instead she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked with surprise.

  “You’re Jared Jones,” she said emphasizing my name. “THE Jared Jones. You’re on the radio.”

  I thought it was strange that she expected me to divulge this bit of information. It wasn’t like I walked around everyday introducing myself to random people. Was I supposed to say ‘Hi, I’m Jared Jones, radio personality extraordinaire’?

  “I guess I didn’t think it was important,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s important,” she said. “I’ll be in touch. Thanks again.”

  And then, she was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The rest of the day flew by with the corporate conference call. By the time the corporate office was done yammering on, I had to rush straight from the office to the coffee shop to meet Abigail.

  I felt a bit harried as I entered the shop a mere 15 minutes later. I ran my hand through my hair and attempted to look put together. I hoped I had still beat Abigail so I could get a cup of coffee for myself, choose a seat, and calm my nerves.

  My hopes of being early were quickly dashed as I spott
ed Abigail’s striking hair from across the room. She had her hands wrapped around a warm mug.

  I studied her from the entrance, taking in her downcast eyes as she read a document. When she took her next sip, she glanced up and caught me staring. She lifted the fingers of one hand from her mug in a small wave and gave me a brilliant smile. Her eyes didn’t light up as I’d hoped, but at least she smiled. I knew I had my work cut out for me.

  I gestured to the board to indicate to her that I was going to get a drink. I ordered black coffee and a couple of muffins. Working in the early morning hours meant that I was hungry at odd hours. I often ate breakfast when I got up and then I was ready for lunch by about 10. Now, in the late afternoon hours, I was famished for dinner.

  The barista smiled and gave me a knowing look as I placed my order. She had recognized my voice, I was sure of it. I did not encourage her with a smile and I kept my head down as I paid for my drink and muffins.

  I grabbed my own warm mug and muffins the minute they were pushed my direction and headed for the table near the back of the room.

  “We meet again,” I said as I sat down.

  “So it seems,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the document as she placed it inside a folder by her feet.

  “That looked like an interesting read,” I said, trying to make light conversation.

  “It was a contract,” she said. “For my next book.”

  “You’re writing another one?” I asked, feeling the guilt slide through my veins as I recalled the fact that I had not yet even read page one of the first one.

  “I haven’t yet, but they want me to start soon. Sales were good and they’ve ordered a second printing.”

  “That’s great news!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly.

  “It is, I’m really excited,” she said. “I’m not really sure what to do with a second book, though. Readers are going to expect something similar, but I kind of feel like I said everything I had to say, you know?”

  I didn’t know and I was dreading the fact that she was likely to ask me relatively soon. Instead of answering, I slurped in some coffee, unwrapped a muffin, and nodded with enthusiasm.

  “Do you see anywhere I could branch off and write a whole entire second book?” she asked.

  And there it was. My test. I had known it was coming, but it was still hard to form the words in a way that wouldn’t offend her again.

  “Well,” I started, trying to remember if I had skimmed anything in the acknowledgement pages that would help me out.

  “You didn’t read it,” she said, her face falling slightly.

  “I tried, I really did,” I said.

  “And you didn’t like it? You couldn’t get through it?” she said, a hint of worry on her face.

  At that point, I realized what the real issue with Abigail was. She wasn’t worried about me reading her book so that I could hold a conversation with her about it. She was worried about me reading her book and not liking it.

  “Oh no, that’s not it at all,” I stumbled around my bite of muffin, trying to choke it down so I could answer her without my mouth full. “I didn’t get a chance to even start.”

  “So…you haven’t read any of it?” she asked, her face relaxing a bit.

  “Not a word,” I said, finally swallowing the giant bite of muffin and setting the treat aside so I wouldn’t choke myself on any more. “I really wanted to,” I continued, trying to find the right words. “I even took it to work with me today. But after the shift this morning I had to meet with the sales staff on some new clients and then there was a conference call…” I trailed off, hoping she would see how crazy my week had been.

  “I get it,” she said. “You’re busy.”

  “You don’t even know the half of it,” I said, trying to make my life appear much more hectic and in demand than it really was. “You know that day you were in the studio? I was in an accident that day!”

  “A car accident?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair, her green eyes widening.

  I nodded. “Yep, an official fender bender.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, running her eyes down my chest and over my hands.

  “Fine, I’m just fine. My car is fine. The other car…well…it died, but all of the passengers involved are okay.”

  Abigail breathed out a small sound. “Well, that’s all that matters, then.”

  “You’re right. Dealing with the repairs this week, though, well, it was just one more thing on my plate.”

  Abigail smiled. “I know how that can be. It seems like just when you can’t take anymore, something else comes along.”

  This was going much better than I thought.

  “I can certainly understand,” I said, still wanting to explain my side of the story to her. “I would have read your book. I always do. It was just with my father’s passing, I hadn’t gotten caught up again and your interview caught me by surprise.”

  Abigail reached her hand across the table and squeezed mine. I wished I didn’t have muffin crumbs on it, but I squeezed back.

  “I’m really sorry about your father,” she said, looking me in the eye.

  “Me too,” I said, feeling my emotions welling up. I hadn’t allowed myself to cry again since Evan appeared in the kitchen. I was half afraid that if I cried again, I would find another man of “spiritual authority” in my presence and I had already convinced myself it had been a dream. “He was the best man I knew.”

  “I say the same thing about my dad,” she said, ending the squeeze on my hand but not letting go. “Do you want to talk about him? Tell me about him?”

  I wouldn’t have thought I wanted to, but for the next hour, I told Abigail all of the details that were most important about my father.

  “Your dad sounds wonderful,” she said.

  “He was,” I said. “I’m really going to miss him. I really do miss him.”

  I looked down at my coffee, which had significantly cooled by that time. When I raised my eyes back up to meet the reflection in Abigail’s, I could no longer speak. All I could do was look into her eyes and smile.

  Was this what I had been waiting for my whole adult life? Was the woman before me the one? It sure felt right.

  “This is nice,” Abigail said as I reached across the table to take her hand back in mine.

  “It is,” I seconded, not really wanting to talk anymore at all. I wanted to enjoy the scent of the coffee shop while I looked deeper into her eyes. I thought if she let me look long enough, I would be able to see into her soul.

  Abigail blinked and looked at her watch. “I really have to get going.”

  Since she had broken the spell, I glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been two hours since I had arrived. I had nowhere to be, but I had a full day of work and appearances the next day. “Yeah, I guess it’s that time,” I agreed.

  “We should do this again,” she said, taking a sip from her mug.

  “Soon,” I seconded.

  “Call me?” Abigail questioned.

  “I have a busy day tomorrow,” I warned, “but I’ll give you a call on Sunday.” I never liked the idea of a guy telling a girl he would call and then making her wait. “We can set something up for next week.”

  “Perfect,” Abigail said as she stood.

  “I really enjoyed talking to you, Jared.”

  “More so than last time?” I asked.

  Abigail grinned even wider and I got to see the full breadth of her teeth. “More so than last time,” she said.

  I stood and followed Abigail to the door of the coffee shop. The bell jingled above us as I opened it. Once we were outside, she angled towards one side of the parking lot while I headed the other way.

  “Thanks again,” I said, stopping before I took another step to look at her one last time. “For meeting me and for listening.”

  “It was my pleasure,” she said.

  I could no longer resist the temptation and though I knew it was too soon to move in for a kiss, I managed
to open my arms and take a step towards her, offering a hug. She moved into my embrace and I felt her arms wrap around my waist. I folded my arms around her shoulders and rested my cheek briefly against her hair.

  Perhaps I hadn’t fallen in love the very first time I had seen Abigail. But the second time….

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The rest of the evening, I simply couldn’t get my mind off of Abigail. I kept seeing the way she looked at me before we left the coffee shop and feeling the touch of her hand against mine. I remembered people like my dad saying things like, “you know when you know” regarding love.

  I wasn’t sure that I really knew anything at that point but I was certain I wanted to see where things went. I promised myself that I would indeed read her book.

  I almost felt as if I was floating when I woke up the next morning and prepared my own homemade coffee so I could get ready for the remote broadcast at the local diner.

  As I threw back my first slug of the black drink, I thought about my dad. I wished he had lived long enough to see me get married. I could have called him and told him about my date with Abigail and he would have given me advice on what to do for our second date.

  The whole prospect was very exciting and as I left the house with a thermos full of more coffee, I was pretty sure I had an extra spring in my step.

  The diner where the remote was being held was a ten-minute drive past the studios. I stopped by the office first to pick up a few pieces of equipment along with Jim, our engineer and the station vehicle.

  Jim was a cranky old guy, but everyone loved him. I could never quite tell if he was cranky simply because he was cranky or if it was just a face he put on in order to get laughs.

  “Took your time getting here, didn’t you?” Jim asked as I walked through the studio’s front door.

  I glanced at my watch to ensure I wasn’t late. The clock read 5 a.m. on the dot. We needed to get to the site a full half an hour before the remote broadcast began so we could get everything ready. Jim would hook up the equipment and I would set up the table with the window stickers and giveaways and other materials while listening to Jim grumble.