She wouldn’t blame Kyle for giving up on her. Not because of the shock of the money, but because of all the deception. He didn’t even know who she was. Not the real Jessica. An aching fear burned inside her heart when she thought it was possible—no, probable—that Kyle would feel too jerked around to invest any more in a relationship with her.
“I did some checking, since Mr. McGregor apparently didn’t, and I found that this woman, Jessica Morgan, is actually the daughter of Harold Morgan. Yes,” Charlotte said, nodding to the people around the room who happened to recognize the name, “the Harold Morgan, multi-millionaire.”
“Well,” Teri whispered, “there goes our plan to keep the money a secret.”
“Ms. Morgan, will you come to the front?” Charlotte made the statement sound more like a command than a request. A month ago, Jessica would have refused. Tonight, all she could think of was that word that had become so familiar in her subconscious, surrender.
Jessica stood and walked to the front. She wished she had worn her blue Liz Claiborne suit.
“My question,” Charlotte said, pointing her finger at Jessica as she took a seat on the podium behind Charlotte, “is why should we keep such a woman on staff at Glenbrooke High? She lied her way into this position, and the bottom line is that she doesn’t need it. I recommend we let this impostor go immediately.”
Charlotte’s argument was weak; Jessica knew that. No reasonable basis existed to fire her. However, this was a small town and a close knit group of school board members. Charlotte Mendelson stood before them with fire in her eyes.
Several people began to speak at once. Charlotte stepped back, and the director of the board rose and called for the room to come to order. One woman in the back remained standing and called out, “She’s the best teacher my son has ever had! You can’t fire someone because of the color of their skin, and you certainly can’t fire them because their father happens to have a lot of money.”
“That’s right,” someone else agreed.
“But she talked to my daughter about AIDS in her class,” a woman in a simple blue dress said without standing up. “And she didn’t ask my permission!”
“Okay, okay,” the director said, raising his hands. “Before this becomes a free-for-all, I have a few things to say. First, Miss Morgan should have sent a notice home, but she didn’t. This is her first year, and I believe we can extend some grace to her since she didn’t know the policy.”
Charlotte spoke up. “She did know the policy. I went over it in my meetings before school opened.”
“We can overlook the error. And the board doesn’t consider any of the other charges serious enough to warrant her removal.”
Just then Kyle stepped up to the podium. The director leaned over, and Kyle spoke to him quietly. “Mr. Buchanan now has the floor.”
Jessica’s heart took an express elevator up to her throat and stopped with a sudden jerk. If anyone could convince the mob one way or the other, it would be Kyle. She wished she knew where she stood with him. If only he would at least look at her, she could judge by his expression what he was feeling.
“I’d like to make it clear that Miss Morgan did in fact invite me to be a guest speaker in her class, and I accept all responsibility for the content of my presentation.”
“Kyle!” Charlotte’s hand flew to her chest. She must not have known who the guest speaker was. The new information seemed to take all the wind out of her sails.
“Also,” Kyle continued, “I agree with Mrs. Powell in that a person cannot be discriminated against because of her financial status. I know it’s an unusual thing in our town to be acquainted with someone from an affluent background. It’s okay if you feel a little startled. I know I was shocked when I found out.”
Up until this point, Kyle had been speaking to the audience, with his back to Jessica. Now he turned around and took the four short steps to her chair, reached for her hands, and lifted her to a standing position with his back to the audience.
When she looked into his eyes, Jessica felt a calm flowing over her.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “Will you forgive me for being obstinate and insensitive?”
“Of course,” Jessica whispered back. “Will you forgive me for not being honest with you? I want to start all over.” A runaway tear broke loose and careened down her cheek.
Kyle nodded, and placing his hand on her chin, he wiped away the tear. His finger then found its way to the half-moon on her lip. His green eyes scanned her face. They rested on her lips. Everything within her desired Kyle to kiss her. She didn’t care that half the population of Glenbrooke was ogling them.
The director stepped to the microphone again and said, “Ms. Mendelson, I hope you can see that your insensitive and heavy-handed approach is not favorably looked on by the school board. I recommend that you focus your attention on the education of Glenbrooke’s teenagers rather than worrying over the files of your teachers.”
Charlotte rose and looked over at Kyle and Jessica. Instead of anger, her face bore a pitiable expression.
“And,” the director continued, “I suggest we all try to start afresh.”
“Maybe I did overstep my boundaries a bit. I trust the school board will overlook that and view my performance in a broader scope.” Charlotte seemed to be working hard to exit with her dignity intact. She stepped down from the platform and took a seat toward the back of the room.
“We can start over, too,” Kyle said to Jessica. “Do you remember my promise in Mexico?”
Jessica shook her head, her eyes locked on his.
“I promised you that if I ever had a million dollars, I’d buy you a house and plant you a purple hydrangea bush.”
“Two hydrangeas,” Jessica reminded him, a smile creeping up her mouth, tilting the half-moon toward him.
Kyle leaned down and kissed her hard and long.
Everyone in the room stood up and gave a standing ovation. Even Martin the Masher was clapping. Teri looked jubilant. Kyle wrapped his arm around Jessica’s shoulders, and they turned to face the crowd. Kyle gave a playful bow to the audience while Jessica watched as Charlotte rose from her seat, and Mr. Porter, the slightly overweight football coach, discretely followed her out of the room.
“I’m not sure if they’re applauding for us or because of how everything turned out with Charlotte and the school board’s decision,” Jessica said.
Kyle looked down at her. “It’s for us, Jess. Half these people have been praying for me for the past four years. You’re their answer to prayer.”
“And the money doesn’t bother you?” Jessica asked.
Kyle cupped her chin in his hand. “No,” he said, “all I ask is that you make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me there will be no more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” Jessica promised, holding up her right hand like a Scout taking a pledge.
A smile spread across Kyle’s face as he said, “Then, since the way I feel about you is no longer a secret, I think I’d better affirm these people’s faith in prayer by taking you in my arms and kissing you again.”
And he did.
The kitchen staff at the Morgan Estates prepared a full English tea for Jessica on the afternoon before she returned to Glenbrooke. The danties served on a silver tray included cucumber sandwiches, fresh strawberries, currant scones, and Devonshire cream.
My tea loving friends and I agree. The “Devonshire cream” available in the states is never as good as the true Devonshire or “clotted cream” we’ve tasted in England, Scotland, and Ireland. I imagine Jessica missed the Devonshire cream she enjoyed while attending Oxford and the kitchen staff at Morgan Estates did their best to duplicate the delicacy. Their recipe below, “Jessica’s Devonshire Cream,” comes pretty close.
My thanks go to Loch Grant for his advice on the currant scones. And my daughter Rachel is the resident expert on cucumber sandwiches whenever she and I have a tea party. Her advice has
been noted.
Morgan Estates Currant Scones
Preheat over to 325 degrees
½ cup butter at room temperature
¼ cup sugar
½ tsp. salt
1-½ cups sour cream (don’t substitute low-fat sour cream)
1-½ cups cake flour
1-½ cups all-purpose flour
2 tbsp. baking powder
¾ cup dried currants
1 tbsp. grated lemon rind
Blend butter, sugar, salt and sour cream at low speed until mixture is creamy. Mix flours and baking powder in separate bowl. Add currants and lemon rind. Mix gently. Form a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour butter mixture into the well. Mix until a soft dough is formed. Place dough on a floured surface and knead a few times. Pat into an 8-inch round circle. Cut dough into 10 equal wedges with floured knife. Place wedges 1-½ inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake on top rack for 40 to 50 minutes. Scones will be a golden brown color. Let cool before serving with Jessica’s Devonshire Cream.
Jessica’s Devonshire Cream
3 ounces light cream cheese
1 tsp. sugar
¼ tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup heavy cream, at room temperature
Blend the cream cheese and sugar with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add vanilla extract and the heavy cream. Beat on high until stiff peaks form. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Serve chilled in a pretty dish with Morgan Estates Currant Scones.
Tea Time Cucumber Sandwiches
2 fresh cucumbers
½ cup soft cream cheese
6-8 slices of fresh bread
Dash of pepper
Pinch of parsley flakes
Wash cucumbers and peel leaving a strip of skin between each peel to give them a zebra stripe effect. Slice cucumbers into thin rounds. Cut all crusts from the bread and spread with cream cheese. Add a dash of pepper and a pinch of parsley flakes to each slice before adding sliced cucumbers to half the pieces of bread. Put the other piece of bread on top and cut into little finger sandwiches or use cookie cutters to make heart-and flower-shaped sandwiches. Keep the sandwiches covered before serving to prevent the bread from drying out.
Dear Reader:
Last summer my mom came across my grade school report cards and sent them to me. My husband, Ross, and I laughed when we read the teacher’s comment at the end of my first grade year: “Robin has not yet grasped her basic math skills. However, she has kept the entire class entertained at rug time with her imaginative stories.” So! That’s where this passion for storytelling began! (It also explains why I can’t balance the check book.)
Ross and I have been in full-time youth ministry for the past seventeen years. While our son and daughter were babies I wrote some articles and some children’s books. To my amazement, they were published! Then the girls in our youth group started bugging me to write some books for them, so I wrote a series of twelve books for teens called, The Christy Miller Series. The passion for storytelling kept growing.
Secrets is my first adult novel. As with all firstborn, there’s a sense of wonder when it finally comes forth. And a sense of delight. I’m delighted that this book is a romance. If I’m going to keep telling stories, then I want to tell romances because, to me, romance is the essence of redemption. Think of a relentless lover pursuing his first love until they are at last united. God is the relentless lover and we are His first love.
Thanks for picking up this book. Being able to share these stories with you is sort of a midlife “rug time.” May we spend many of them together. And may this romance nudge you into the arms of the relentless lover who knows the secrets of your heart.
Always,
P.S. You are invited to come visit me online at www.robingunn.com
Join Jessica, Terri, Lauren, Alissa, Shelly, Meri, Leah, and Genevieve as they encounter love, life, and a growing faith in the small town of Glenbrooke.
Read excerpts from these books and more at WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
Teri Moreno flipped her thick brown hair over her shoulder and peered through the cluster of Maui tourists gathered at the airport baggage claim. She had hoped to see Mark among the locals, but it was her sister’s voice that greeted her. “Teri, over here!”
Anita ran toward her with a lei of white plumeria flowers strung over her arm. “You’re here!” Anita said breathlessly, giving Teri a hug. “I’m sorry we weren’t here to meet your flight. Here, these are for you.” She placed the fragrant flowered lei around Teri’s neck. “Dan’s parking the car. We got a late start. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Teri said, lifting the sweet flowers to her nose and drawing in the scent. A dozen memories of her previous summer on the island filled her mind. She looked past her sister and with a sheepish smile asked, “Mark wasn’t able to come?”
“No, he’ll meet us for dinner, though. You really look great!” Anita said, giving Teri’s arm a squeeze. “Did you lose some weight?”
Aware that her slim sister’s glance had rested on Teri’s thighs, Teri said, “Not really.” A familiar uneasiness settled in. She had never been able to wear a size six pair of jeans like her older sister could—nor would Teri ever be able to.
“You look great, too,” Teri said. “I love your hair like that. I don’t think you’ve ever worn it that short. It’s cute.”
Anita fingered the ends of her sleek, dark hair that clung to the nape of her neck. “Do you like it? I had it cut a week ago. I’m still getting used to it, but I think I like it. Dan does.”
Just then Dan appeared. He was the same age as Anita, twenty-seven. But his dark, wavy hair and short, stocky build gave him the look of a high school wrestler.
“So how was your flight?” Dan said, giving Teri a hug and motioning with his head that they should follow him to the baggage claim area.
“Fine. Uneventful.”
“Don’t think for a minute that your five weeks here will be uneventful,” Anita said. “We are going to have so much fun! I have all kinds of things planned for us.”
Teri wondered if Anita had included Mark in her plans. “That’s my suitcase,” Teri said.
Dan grabbed it for her and lifted it with ease. He had lots of experience with luggage since he worked as a bellhop at the Halekuali’i, one of the most expensive resorts on the west side of Maui. “Is this your only bag?”
“That’s it,” Teri said.
“Traveling light this time, I see. Looks like you learned all you need to bring to Maui is a bathing suit,” Dan said, leading them out to the parking lot.
“A bathing suit and every hard-earned penny I could scrape up,” Teri added. She again drew in the sweet scent of the flowers around her neck as they stepped out from under the protected covering of the baggage claim area. A strong wind blew their hair and dried the perspiration from their shirts.
“Ah!” Teri greeted the island breeze with upturned chin and closed eyes. “It’s so wonderful to be back here. Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this very moment? Standing here, feeling this wind in my hair, and smelling the flowers.” She impulsively gave Anita a hug. “I can’t believe I’m here!”
“Why don’t you stay for good this time?” Anita asked.
“Don’t I wish,” Teri said.
“I’m serious. Why don’t you move here?”
“Well, one small matter is making a living on the island.”
“They always need teachers,” Dan said. “The pay isn’t great, but you could always do like the rest of us and wait tables on the weekends.”
“I don’t imagine the demand is high for Spanish teachers,” Teri said.
“We can always find out,” Dan replied. He unlocked the trunk of their white compact car and dropped her suitcase inside. It had been a rental car that he had bought from a friend for a low price because the right rear door was smashed in. They still hadn’t fixed the door. Teri noticed the rust inside the dented area, which hadn’t been there a ye
ar ago. She slid into the backseat through the one rear door that did work and made a mental note that, even though they both worked two jobs, they hadn’t been able to fix their car. How could she possibly afford to support herself in such an expensive location?
“I don’t know,” Teri said. “I have a comfortable life in Oregon. Maui is a great place for a vacation, but I don’t know if I could actually live here.”
“Sure you could,” Anita coaxed her.
Dan paid the airport parking lot attendant and pulled out into the traffic.
“Can you wait for dinner or are you starving? You know it will take about an hour to drive to our side of the island and probably another half hour before we eat,” Dan said.
“My stomach can wait,” Teri answered. The part of her that couldn’t wait was her eyes. They longed to feast on the sights of this enchanted paradise. With all the windows down, Dan drove the two-lane highway that linked the two sides of the island. Anita chattered away as they drove, while Teri only half listened. She was too absorbed in the scenery.
First came the waving sugar cane fields in the central valley. To the left rose Haleakala, the great volcano circled in a wreath of clouds that looked like a halo of baby’s breath. The road followed the outer rim of the west side of the island, curving through cut volcanic rock and past sequestered sandy coves shaded by palm trees.
Teri drank in the beauty of the blue ocean and the imposing sight of the nearby neighboring islands, popping up out of the Pacific Ocean: Kahoolawe, Lana’i, and the green, sleeping giant, Moloka’i, which lay only nine miles north of Dan and Anita’s small house. She had waited a year in rainy Oregon for this feast of her senses, a year filled with romantic dreams and hope inspired speculations. Now Teri Angelina Raquel Moreno was about to see if those dreams were ready to come true.