"Michael, you don't know how I've prayed to get over all of this," she said quietly. "I just can't seem to let it go."
"But you will, Zan. You know I'll pray with you about it. God will give you peace. But quit holding it all inside. Maybe if you'd just talk it out, share it with me, it would help."
They continued walking silently until they stood on the bank overlooking the lake. The scenery was captivating with sunlight reflecting off the water as blue as the sky above them. The mountains created the backdrop of a serene picture filled with tall pines and wildflowers.
Jack waded out into the lake leading the way for Jill to follow. Michael chucked tiny stones toward the dogs. Slowly he walked nearer the water's edge skipping stones across the surface.
Suzanne watched him with longing and reservation, torn between her heart and mind again. He was a balanced mixture to her senses and needs, being strong, confident, and logical, but also sensuous, gentle, and understanding. All he embodied seemed to cause her more confusion and doubt that she could return to him what he gave effortlessly to her. Her body ached, and her heart pounded from her wandering thoughts and the memory of a deadline she had to meet.
"You're daydreaming." Michael raised a brow and displayed a dimpled smile.
"How do you know what I'm doing?" Her guilty eyes met his.
"Because you were staring at me, and your face is as red as a beet. What were you thinking?"
"You tell me, since you know everything."
"Okay. I think you want to walk over here, wrap your arms around me, and kiss me." His eyes twinkled from the sunlight's reflection on the water.
"You're only partially right." She slowly walked toward him.
"Which part?"
"About my walking over here," she replied, standing before him.
"And the kiss?"
"I haven't decided about that yet."
He searched her innocent eyes. "Okay. I can wait. But what were you thinking?"
"About how right you are all the time." With her emphasis, she gave him a potent two-handed shove to the chest.
He came up out of the water spitting and wiping back his wavy hair. Kneeling on one knee with water to his chest and the dogs paddling happily around him, he looked at her blankly. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"Figure it out!" She wheeled and struck out on the trek back to the house.
"Suzanne! Wait!" He climbed onto the bank, wringing his shirt and slapping his jeans as he hurried to catch her.
Jack and Jill scampered up the bank, running along at his sides, bumping into his legs, and shaking their wetness on him.
"Would you two get lost?" he spit viciously.
The dogs hurried ahead, passing Suzanne and racing toward home.
"Suzanne!" Michael's voice echoed through the forest.
She continued without looking back.
(from page 117)
Suzanne sat in her office at her desk mentally kicking herself for her actions and lack of courage. She hadn't spoken to Michael since leaving the lake. Upon reaching the house, he headed straight for a shower, leaving her to sit and stew in her own mix of indignation and contrition.
"Working?" His voice came from the door behind her.
She swiveled her chair to face him. "No."
He relaxed against the door, crossing his arms and one bare foot over the other. "Am I intruding?"
"No."
"I know it's early, but I thought I'd go to bed. I haven't gotten much sleep the last couple of nights. It's catching up with me. Do you mind?"
"No. I haven't been sleeping much lately either. I may go to bed and read."
He shoved himself away from the door with a push of his shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning then."
"Okay. Sleep well."
"You, too. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Suzanne listened to his feet ascending the stairs. A heavy wave of depression covered her. She swiveled facing her desk, rested her elbows atop its polished finish and held her face in her hands. Oh, Suzanne! He's so near, but you keep pushing him away. Why didn't you talk to him? Lord, why can't I let go of all this and talk to him? Help me, please.
After a few more minutes of mentally scolding herself, she took her mother's journal from the end of her desk and carried it with her upstairs.
Lying in bed, she silently cried. Her mind walked through her mother's life page by page as she read for hours of a life forgotten by others, but so well remembered and cherished by her. She relived each word, each incident, recalling sweet and bitter memories of her parents and her short time with Randy. She prayed earnestly for strength and peace, knowing if she couldn't face the past, couldn't face herself, couldn't face her weaknesses, she wouldn't be able to tell Michael everything. He deserved the truth from her lips.