“Years ago my daughters and wife were inhaling Robin Gunn’s stories and loving them, so I had to take a peek myself to find out why. I did. Robin’s characters are believable, and her stories have just the right blend of hope, broken hearts, disappointments, lighthearted fun, joy, and an eternal perspective. The Lord Jesus always plays a role, whether behind the scenes or in the thick of things. Robin lives the faith that’s so evident in her books. She knows how to tell a story—and the stories she tells make an eternal difference.”
RANDY ALCORN, AUTHOR OF DEADLINE
“When you read a Robin Gunn book, you know you’re going to receive a tender lesson in what it means to belong to Christ—and you will be blessed for it.”
FRANCINE RIVERS, AUTHOR OF REDEEMING LOVE AND THE MARK OF THE LION SERIES
“Gratefully Robin’s warmth, insight, and humor spill over from her heart onto the written page. She delights us with the well-woven fabric of a well-told tale and I’m certain Robin delights the Lord with her obvious passion for him.”
PATSY CLAIRMONT, AUTHOR OF GOD USES CRACKED POTS AND SPORTIN’ A ’TUDE
“Robin Jones Gunn cares. She cares about her characters, she cares about her readers, and most of all, she cares about their mutual search for a life that pleases the Lord. Her novels are a delight to read—perfectly crafted, heartwarming, and fun. I’m always thrilled when one of Robin’s books appears on the top of my to-be-read stack!”
LIZ CURTIS HIGGS, AUTHOR OF MIXED SIGNALS, BOOKENDS, AND BAD GIRLS OF THE BIBLE
“Robin Jones Gunn is one of those rare and wonderful writers who infuses her stories with bountiful doses of humor, wisdom, and warmth. Her books have touched and changed countless hearts and given a whole generation of readers a host of fictional characters who feel like dear friends!”
CAROLE GIFT PAGE, AUTHOR OF HEARTLAND MEMORIES SERIES
“Whenever I think of stories that touch the heart, I think of Robin Jones Gunn. They touch my heart and leave me wanting more. Reading a novel by Robin Jones Gunn is like spending time with a good friend … troubles are lighter and joys are deeper.”
ALICE GRAY, AUTHOR OF STORIES FOR THE HEART BOOK COLLECTION
“Robin Jones Gunn writes from a heart of love. Her tender stories honor the Savior and speak truth to a world desperately eager to hear it.”
ANGELA ELWELL HUNT, AUTHOR OF THE TRUTH TELLER
“Robin Gunn is a gifted and sincere storyteller who gets right to the heart of matters with her readers.”
MELODY CARLSON, AUTHOR OF HOMEWARD
THE GLENBROOKE SERIES
1. Secrets
2. Whispers
3. Echoes
4. Sunsets
5. Clouds
6. Waterfalls
7. Woodlands
8. Wildflowers
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SUNSETS
published by Multnomah Books
© 1997 by Robin’s Ink, LLC
Cover design and images by Steve Gardner/His Image PixelWorks
Scripture quotations are from:Holy Bible, The New King James Version
(NKJV) © 1984 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.
Also quoted: New American Standard Bible (NASB) © 1960, 1977 by the Lockman Foundation
Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc, New York
MULTNOMAH and its mountain colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission.
For information:
MULTNOMAH BOOKS
12265 ORACLE BOULEVARD, SUITE 200
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO 80921
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gunn, Robin Jones, 1955-
Sunsets/by Robin Jones Gunn. p.cm. eISBN: 978-0-307-82469-1
I. Title.
PS3557.U4866S86 1997 96-47448
813′.54—dc21
v3.1
To Kevin and his indestructible cat, Chloe.
May your years together in Pasadena
be graced with exquisite sunsets.
Contents
Cover
Other Books in This Series
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunsets Recipe
And they who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Thy signs; Thou dost make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.
PSALM 65:8 (NASB)
Chapter One
Coffee,” Alissa muttered, pushing herself away from her cluttered desk, “a tall café mocha, and I need it now. You want anything, Cheri?”
“No, thanks,” her co-worker said without looking up from her computer. “Are you getting this same strange reading on the Mazatlan cruise package?”
“Yes,” Alissa said after checking the computer screen over Cheri’s shoulder. “I got that reading when I tried to access the Alaska cruise package for the Andersens. But I’m not ready to try again until after I’ve had some coffee.”
Cheri looked over the top of her glasses. “We open in five minutes.”
“I know. I’ll be back in four. Don’t sell any cruise packages until then.”
The line at Starbucks was shorter than usual. Alissa examined the pastries in the case. They had Cheri’s favorite lemon bars this morning and lots of other incredible looking goodies.
She started her familiar mental workout. Croissant. I want a croissant. But I shouldn’t. Too much fat. I’ll have a muffin. A low-fat blueberry. Or a bagel. I can have a bagel. A bagel with fat-free cream cheese.
“What can I start for you?” the young woman behind the counter asked.
Alissa hesitated.
The customer behind her spoke up. “Cappuccino and a croissant.”
“Excuse me.” Alissa turned to the casually dressed man behind her. “I was next, and if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.”
He wore his long brown hair with a crooked part down the middle. A soft cocoa stubble curved across his broad jaw, and his gaze struck her with intense clarity. Green eyes. Green like the grass after it rains.
“So what took you so long?” he said with a teasing smile.
Alissa raised her eyebrows and decided this must be his idea of a joke. Since she had moved to Pasadena seven months ago, she had met plenty of men who acted as if the world were their footstool, and therefore they could put up their feet whenever they wanted. Southern California was full of that sort.
Turning to the woman behind the counter, Alissa said calmly, “I’ll have a tall café mocha, a lemon bar, and a cinnamon roll. Thanks.”
/> There was no point looking over her shoulder as she left Starbucks. The man with the intriguing green eyes wouldn’t be watching her. Men used to watch her walk away. She could feel their gazes. Men used to offer to let her go first.
But that was thirty-two pounds ago. It had been far too long since a man had given her a second glance. Not that she blamed any of them. Much had changed in the life of Alissa Benson.
Wistfully, she remembered what it was like to be seventeen, sauntering through the sand at Newport Beach while everyone watched. That had been many summers ago, back when the ends of her long, blond hair had danced in the wind like the mane of a wild horse.
Today, a long, linen blazer covered her rounded hips, and her shoulder length, wavy blond hair was caught up in a twist, clipped flat against the back of her head. She rarely wore her blue tinted contact lenses anymore. Makeup was something she bothered with only on special occasions, of which there hadn’t been many lately.
Alissa’s live-in companion was a cat named Chloe, and her favorite weekend pastime was reading. At twenty-six she was living the life of a sixty-year-old. And she was safe.
“She’s right here,” Cheri said, motioning to Alissa as she opened the door. “I’ll put you on hold, Mr. Brannigan.”
“Line two,” Cheri said to Alissa. “And your landlord is on line one.”
“Oh, terrific,” Alissa muttered. She handed the pastry bag to Cheri. “I picked up a little something for you.”
A smile spread across Cheri’s face. “Did you bring me a lemon bar? You are a honey!”
“Don’t touch my cinnamon roll!” Alissa playfully responded as she slid behind her desk and reached for the phone. “Good morning, Mr. Brannigan. Did your wife tell you I was able to reserve two nights for you at the Heathman?”
With a few clicks on the computer keyboard, she tried to pull up the active file of the Brannigans as he said, “We’ve decided to stay three nights. Can you add one more night for us?”
The computer screen froze. Alissa tapped on the keys. “Certainly, Mr. Brannigan. May I call you back to confirm that?”
“I’ll wait for your call,” Mr. Brannigan said.
Alissa knew he would. The Brannigans had to be the most active retired couple she knew. In good health and possessing excessive spending money, they traveled constantly. And with Alissa’s efficiency and excessive good manners, she was their only travel agent.
“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Brannigan. Good-bye.”
“Cheri?” Alissa said. “Did we go off-line?”
“I’ve called the repairman. I don’t know what the problem is. I guess all we can do is take messages. Don’t forget your landlord. Line one.”
With a push of a button and a deep breath, Alissa picked up line one. “Clawson Travel Agency. This is Alissa.”
“Ms. Benson,” the landlord said with forced friendliness. “You have not responded to the notice we sent you last month. I have left messages on your machine at home, but you have not returned the calls. I found it necessary to call you at work to ask for a reply.”
Alissa turned away from Cheri and the client who had just entered the shop and was seated in front of Cheri’s desk. “I’m going to need more time to decide.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t any more time. I must know today by five o’clock.”
Alissa heard the click as he hung up, but she kept the phone to her ear as if the answer she needed would come sometime after the dial tone. Her condo complex had been sold a month ago. The new owner required all renters to sign a new lease that included an increase of $150 a month and a minimum commitment of two years. Alissa had never lived anywhere for more than two years. It was a nice condo but not her dream home. During the past month she had found nothing else in her price range. Yet the two-year commitment scared her. She had already been in Pasadena and at the same travel agency for seven months. That in itself was almost a record.
She heard a slight rustling sound and realized a customer was now seated in front of her desk. “Okay. We’ll work on that and get back to you then,” she said into the dumb receiver that she still held to her ear. “Good-bye.”
Turning to hang up and greet her customer, Alissa forced a smile back on her face and said, “Yes, how can I—” She stopped. It was the guy from Starbucks. “How can I help you?”
He took a slow sip from his Starbucks cappuccino and looked at her with his grass green eyes. “You’re having trouble with your computers this morning?”
It crossed Alissa’s mind that perhaps this guy had followed her here and somehow overheard Alissa and Cheri say they had computer problems. For a brief flash, Alissa felt flattered that this man had apparently sought her out.
“Alissa?” Cheri called over. “Excuse me for interrupting, but Mr. Brannigan is on the phone again. Do you want to take it?”
“Sure.” Alissa put on her headset. “Excuse me a moment, please,” she said to the green-eyed stranger. “Yes, Mr. Brannigan?”
“My wife wanted me to ask about the special you advertised for the Alaskan cruise, but I forgot when I called earlier. Is there still room on the June trip?”
“I’m having difficulty accessing the information on those cruises this morning. Would it be all right if I called you back this afternoon? That way I’ll know about the extra night at the Heathman as well.”
Alissa hung up and turned her attention to the man at her desk. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have local access, or do you have to go through a central clearing agency?” Brad asked.
“Excuse me?”
“For the cruises,” he said, getting up and coming over to her side of the desk. “Do you have a local server for your info? Pull up the file. That might tell me.” He reached over Alissa’s shoulder and clicked on a few keys.
His forward approach startled Alissa. First at Starbucks and now this. Who did this guy think he was? “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to do this.”
Alissa was glad to see Cheri come over to offer her support.
“Alissa? This is Brad Phillips. I thought you two had already met. Brad works down the street at The Computer Wiz.” Cheri kept her voice professional. “I called him this morning.”
“Oh,” Alissa said, feeling foolish for allowing herself to think this man had come looking for her. She rose from her work station and offered Brad her seat. “All yours,” she said.
Then, reaching for her coffee and cinnamon roll, which Cheri had put on a paper plate for her, Alissa took the customer seat on the other side of the desk. She might just as well make some phone calls.
“All righty then,” Brad said, punching the keys at top speed. The screen miraculously unfroze. “We have lift off.”
Alissa punched in a phone number and spoke into her headset. “Yes, I’m checking on reservations for the Brannigans for the nights of June 10 and 11. Would it be possible to add the night of the twelfth as well? … Wonderful. Three nights confirmed then. Thank you very much.”
“Here’s your problem,” Brad said. “No, wait. Oh, I see. This is a strange way to do this.” He sipped his coffee and stared at the screen, obviously content to carry on his one-sided conversation. “Why did they take this out of binary? It doesn’t have to go that route.”
Alissa reached into her in-basket for a list of apartments she had been calling the last few days. She started at the top and phoned each one that wasn’t already checked. Her questions were simple, “Do you have any immediate openings? What is the price range?” She circled four potential apartments on her list and planned to visit them on her lunch hour.
Brad’s running mono-conversation came to a halt. “I think we’ve got it here. What date was Mr. Brannigan interested in? And that was the Alaska cruise, wasn’t it?”
“Thank you. I can take it from here.” Alissa said.
“Oh, right,” Brad said. “Strict customer confidentiality around here.” He got up and offered her the chair with the same gesture she had used on him.
r /> “You’re back in business,” Brad said, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trash. His friendly smile lingered in Alissa’s direction only a moment before he stepped over to Cheri’s desk and began to work on her computer.
Alissa checked on Mr. Brannigan’s cruise. The program functioned perfectly. Even Mazatlan was coming up.
After gathering the information for her customer, she took her half-eaten cinnamon roll into the back room and shoved it into the small refrigerator. Glancing at her reflection in the microwave oven, she pushed up her glasses. She didn’t like the feeling that had followed her back here. It was a cloud of hopelessness. A low buzzing in the deepest corner of her heart reminded her that she had lived hard and fast during her high school years, and now she was used up. The locusts had stripped her emotions bare. She didn’t consider herself worthy of the attention of a man, any man.
Come on. Snap out of this slump! Don’t take yourself down this path. Put a smile on your face.
She did, but it hardly seemed to matter. When Alissa returned to her desk, Brad was gone. She noticed a slip of paper next to the computer. The note read, “Duplex for rent” followed by a phone number. It wasn’t her handwriting. She guessed Cheri or their boss, Renée, had left it since both knew she had been apartment hunting. Renée only worked afternoons. Perhaps she had left it yesterday, and Alissa hadn’t noticed it with all the commotion this morning.
It didn’t matter. It was another lead for an apartment, something she desperately needed. She called and made an appointment to have a look that afternoon.
It ended up being her last stop after four discouraging apartment complexes. The duplex was situated in an older part of town, down a quiet, tree-lined street. That was reason enough for Alissa to feel hopeful.
But when she pulled up in front, she felt certain this dream duplex would be out of her price range. The building resembled twin cottages complete with shuttered windows and flower boxes. It looked like something she had seen in a small town in Europe. Lots of greenery, lace curtains on one side, and stepping stones around to the back made the scene very inviting.