03_The Unexpected Gift Read online

  “How’s it going?”

  “Not bad. I think the board will be pleased with some of the things I’ve lined up. Are you involved at all with the camp?”

  “Only in a minor way. I don’t know if Grant told you, but I’m a graphic designer. I work out of my home, and I do most of the design and layouts for any printed materials the camp needs.”

  Morgan set two mugs of coffee, plates and forks, on the table, then handed Kit a knife. “You can do the honors. And no, Grant didn’t tell me that. I figured being the mother of fifteen-year-old twins, as well as a preacher’s wife, would keep you busy enough.”

  Kit laughed as she cut them each a generous piece of cake. “Those two roles are pretty demanding,” she agreed. “But I love graphic design, too, so I’ve always managed to keep my hand in the field. Working for myself, out of my house, gives me a lot of flexibility and control. I can take as much or as little work as I want.”

  “It sounds like you have an ideal arrangement.” Morgan propped her chin in her hand, her expression wistful.

  “A career you enjoy, but time for other things, as well.”

  “That’s true. I can’t imagine not working at all, but I never wanted that to be my only focus.”

  “I guess I never learned that lesson. At least, not until recently. And then not by choice.”

  “Grant told me your firm was acquired and that you lost your job in the reorganization. I’m sorry, Morgan. That had to be tough.”

  “I had quite a pity party for a while,” she admitted, striving for a light tone. “But I don’t miss the stress or the pressure. I do miss the work, though.”

  “Have you thought about freelancing? Or starting your own small agency?”

  Morgan looked at her in surprise. “It’s pretty tough to compete with the big guys. They’ve got the market sewn up in Boston.”

  “So you’re committed to staying there?”

  “No. In fact, I’ve expanded my job search. I haven’t had any responses yet, though.”

  “I’m sure it just takes time to connect.”

  “Well, patience isn’t my strong suit, as I told Grant a few days ago. I just want things to be settled. Frankly, I wish I could find the kind of contentment that he appears to have. Despite the terrible tragedy with Christine, he seems like a man who’s found his place in the world and is at peace.”

  “That’s true. He’s completely happy with his life here, and he gets great satisfaction from his work. Even though he went away to college to please Dad, I think Grant always knew he’d come home.”

  “He went to college?” Morgan said in surprise.

  “Yes. In Boston. He has a degree in electrical engineering. Finished top in his class and had more job offers than he could keep track of. But it wasn’t what he wanted. And deep in his heart, I think Dad was glad when Grant came home, because the cabinet shop has been in the family for three generations. But he wanted to make sure Grant at least had other options and something to fall back on.”

  “I had no idea about Grant’s educational background.”

  “Dad and Mom wanted both of us to go to college. That may have been the one thing they agreed on.”

  Kit’s comment piqued Morgan’s curiosity, but she didn’t want Grant’s sister to think she was prying. “I saw your mother at the funeral,” she ventured.

  “I was glad she came. She lives in Boston, and doesn’t always make it up for family events. She’s vice president of a major financial institution.”

  When Kit mentioned the name, Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Wow! I’m impressed.”

  “It’s what she always wanted. She went back to school right after I was born and got her degree in economics. Then she went on for her MBA through a weekend program in Boston. She worked in Brunswick for a while, but when I was fifteen and Grant was eleven, she was offered a job in Boston at the firm she’s still with. Mom and Dad had been drifting further and further apart by then, anyway. Work had begun to consume more and more of Mom’s time, and Dad had taken on most of the household and child-rearing duties. So they parted more or less amicably, and Dad took custody of us.”

  “So, they’re divorced?”

  “No. Dad didn’t believe in it, and Mom didn’t see any reason to push for it. I don’t think she had any interest in getting married again, anyway,” Kit said, her tone matter-of-fact. “She had great ambitions, and another marriage would have been too much of a distraction from her work.”

  Kit seemed at ease with the subject, so Morgan felt comfortable asking a few more questions. “Does your Mom stay in touch?”

  “Most of the time she sends a card on our birthdays and holidays, and she tries to come up for important family functions. Like Christine’s funeral. But our contact is infrequent, at best.”

  “You seem okay with that,” Morgan commented.

  “I am now. But it was hard at first. Even though she was busy with work when she lived in Seaside, at least she was physically present some of the time. I missed that when she left. And like Grant, I was angry. I just manifested it in a different way, by withdrawing more into myself. But over time I realized that Mom should never have gotten married and had kids. Some people just aren’t cut out for that. And Dad was great. He was a rock through the whole thing. It was a lot tougher on Grant, who was still a little kid when she left. He had some rough times.”

  “He mentioned that he got into trouble at school, and that Aunt Jo took a special interest in him. In fact, he said she was the one who discovered Good Shepherd.”

  “That’s true. Jo was a godsend for Grant. We all loved her, but she took him under her wing. And even though she was only here a few weeks a year, she made it a point to stay in touch often. Which is something Mom never did. And Grant never forgot that.”

  “It sounds like there are still some bad feelings,” Morgan reflected.

  “There are. I think Grant’s forgiven Mom, and even understands that she never meant to hurt us. That she just wasn’t cut out for the role. But Grant is a man who honors his commitments. And he’s never forgotten that she didn’t honor hers. So I don’t think he respects her very much. And he certainly doesn’t feel anything for her, or have any emotional ties.”

  “I can understand how he feels. And I admire you for being able to get past that.”

  “It doesn’t do any good to think about what might have been. This was obviously God’s plan for our family. And we’ve been blessed in so many other ways. I have Bill and the girls, and Dad and Uncle Pete are great. Grant’s had the roughest time all around. Sometimes I don’t know how he found the strength to go on. I’m not sure I could have done it in his place.” She drew a deep breath, then forced herself to smile. “Enough of that depressing stuff. I had an idea I wanted to pass on. You don’t sound like you’re interested in going freelance right now on a permanent basis, but would you consider taking some small, short-term jobs while you’re waiting to connect somewhere?”

  “I suppose so. But I don’t know where they’d come from.”

  “Well, I do work for some agencies who have clients all over this area. They’re smaller businesses that can’t afford big-agency fees, but they still need help with advertising and marketing. Can I drop your name a few places?”

  “Why not? I could use the income.”

  “Great.” Kit glanced at her watch, took a last swallow of coffee, then stood. “I’ve bent your ear long enough for one day. Grant always says I can outtalk any politician, so I hope I didn’t overwhelm you.”

  “Hardly. It was nice to have some company. And the coffee cake was great.”

  “We’ll do it again soon,” Kit promised with a grin.

  After waving Grant’s sister off, Morgan closed the door and returned to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup. And as she cut herself a second slice of the decadent coffee cake, her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. Kit’s upbeat attitude had certainly been therapeutic. And she also felt she had a better handle on what made Grant tick—
as well as a better understanding of why there’d been such tension between the two of them in the beginning. With her single-minded focus on work, she’d reminded him of his mother. But she’d learned a lot since then. And her focus was changing, which should smooth out their relationship a bit.

  Not that it mattered, of course. Grant and she were never destined to be more than friends. His love for his wife was still strong and true. And Morgan didn’t plan to take up permanent residence in Aunt Jo’s cottage.

  But a little niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the spark that had leapt between them, first here in the cottage, then again at church. It was the kind of spark that often led to more than friendship. The question was, could they contain it? Could they tame it so that it fueled friendship but stopped short of romance?

  Morgan was willing to try.

  But based on Grant’s abrupt escape from church, she wasn’t so sure he was.

  Nor, in all honesty, was she sure they could.

  “I think we’d better get started. Could everyone take their seats?”

  Grant had delayed the start of the February Good Shepherd board meeting as long as possible, hoping that Morgan would show up, but they were already ten minutes behind schedule and there was still no sign of her. He’d seen her at church on Sunday, and since she’d mentioned the meeting, he knew she hadn’t forgotten about it. So where was she?

  Grant had toyed with the idea of offering her a ride today. It had seemed silly to take two cars all the way to Portland. But he was still unsettled after their encounter in the empty church. If she’d been in an accident, though, he’d never forgive himself. The roads were slick, and she was still unfamiliar with the narrow byways. Maybe she’d had car trouble. Or…

  The door burst open, and as Morgan rushed in, all heads swiveled her direction.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she apologized. “I was on the phone with something relating to Good Shepherd, and the call took far longer than I expected. But I hope you’ll think that the result justifies my tardiness.”

  “We were just getting started,” Grant told her, his unexpected panic at her lateness subsiding as she took a place at the far end of the table. Then he turned back to the group. “I know we’re all anxious to discuss the fund-raising effort, but let’s give Morgan a chance to catch her breath. John, will you lead us in prayer?”

  Morgan sent Grant a grateful look before she bowed her head and waited for the gray-haired minister to begin.

  “Lord, we ask Your blessing on this work we do in Your name. Please help us discern Your will for us as we embark on our first major fund-raising effort. Those of us on the board are Your humble servants, but most of us are not too schooled in these matters. We thank You for sending Morgan to guide our steps so that we can continue to provide this much-needed service to troubled youth. And please watch over all the young people who have passed through the door of Good Shepherd. We ask this in Your name.”

  After everyone murmured, “Amen,” Grant turned to Morgan. “Do you need a few more minutes?”

  “No, I’m set.” She opened her briefcase and withdrew some papers. “Before I lay out what I’ve been working on, though, are there any comments on the preliminary plan I developed?”

  “I thought it looked great,” Sylvia said. “I’m just anxious to hear the details.”

  When everyone else nodded their assent, Morgan continued. “Okay. Well, I’ve been busy since we last met. As some of you know, I spent a number of years with a pretty prominent ad agency in Boston, and during that time I made some good contacts in the corporate world. A lot of the companies I dealt with have excellent charitable outreach efforts, so I called the ones I thought might be interested in assisting with this effort. And I’m happy to tell you, the response was overwhelming.”

  Morgan ticked down the list of companies that had offered to support the fund-raising dinner/auction, either through direct donations, by buying a table or by offering goods and services.

  “So I think the basic cost of the dinner will be covered. Which means that every penny we bring in will go to the camp. But I’ve saved the best news for last. And that’s the call I took right before I drove down here today.”

  She withdrew a sheet of paper from the stack in front of her. “One of the clients I worked with has a promotional relationship with a prominent singer.” When she mentioned the entertainer’s name, eyebrows rose around the table. “Anyway, as you know she’s been very open about her strong faith and the importance of Christianity in her life. My corporate client offered to speak with her agent to see if she might be willing to entertain at our event, and I spoke with her agent just before I left today. I’m delighted to tell you the answer is yes. She’ll waive her usual fee and we’ll just need to pick up her expenses, which should be minimal.”

  A collective gasp went up around the table, and then the room erupted in excited chatter. It took Grant several attempts to restore order, and when quiet finally descended, he turned to Morgan with a smile that warmed her all the way to her toes.

  “I think it’s safe to say that we’re overwhelmed,” he said.

  A flush rose on her cheeks and her own lips curved in response. “I can’t take much credit. My corporate contacts did all the work.”

  “But you had those contacts. We didn’t,” Grant pointed out.

  “I’m glad I could put them to good use. But there’s still a lot to do. I can work on the publicity and promotional materials, but we also need to choose a venue and handle all of the event-planning details.”

  “The board can take care of that part,” Sylvia assured her. “We’ll just divide up into committees.”

  “And I have good news on the alumni list,” Mary chimed in. “I’ve gone through it and identified a number of pretty prominent people in the business and political arena who may be willing to serve on an advisory board and lend their names to our efforts. Grant, as chairman, I thought the invitation should come from you.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he promised. “Just give me the list. Now let’s settle on a date for the dinner.” After some discussion, the board arrived at both a primary and a back-up date. “Is there anything else we need to do today?”

  Everyone turned to Morgan, and she shook her head. “I think everything’s under control. Grant, Kit told me that she designs the brochures and print pieces for Good Shepherd. Shall I work with her to put together some layouts for the materials we’ll need?”

  “Yes. I’ll let her know you’ll be calling.”

  Sylvia gave Morgan a thoughtful look. “You know, if you’re going to be developing promotional materials, you should visit the camp.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Mary concurred. “It’s pretty quiet right now, of course. But the facilities are nice, and Joe and Elizabeth would be glad to show you around.”

  “Grant, why don’t you take her out?” Sylvia suggested.

  Morgan saw the objection in his eyes even before he voiced it.

  “That would take most of a day, Sylvia,” he balked.

  “Well, with all the time Morgan’s put into this effort, I would think that’s the least we can do. And you know the place better than all of us put together.”

  Morgan had no intention of forcing herself on a reluctant guide. “I’m sure I can develop the materials just using the background information that Grant gave me,” she stepped in.

  “It’s not the same,” the older woman insisted.

  “Sylvia’s right,” Grant conceded with obvious reluctance, directing his comment to Morgan. “It would be helpful if you took a look.” He turned to the older woman. “We’ll try to find a time that will work.”

  The woman gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

  A short time later, Grant wrapped up the meeting, and Morgan made a quick escape before he had a chance to stop her, as he had the last time. It was obvious he didn’t want to take her to the camp. And while she would like to see it, she didn’t intend to put him in an
uncomfortable position. If he wanted to contact her about taking a tour, fine. If he didn’t, she could still do a credible job on the promotional materials.

  Besides, maybe that was safer. She knew Grant had been as shaken as she was after their last meeting. He probably thought it best if they limited their contact.

  Intellectually, Morgan knew that that was a smart move.

  But it didn’t make her heart feel any better.

  “Kit, these look great!” Morgan leaned closer to examine the designs for the Good Shepherd materials that the other woman had spread out on the table in Aunt Jo’s cottage.

  Kit’s face flushed with pleasure. “Well, they’re very rough. But after we talked on the phone and you faxed over the preliminary copy, I thought I’d go ahead and get a jump on the job given our abbreviated time frame. With the fund-raiser barely two months off, the invitations and brochures need to go out as soon as possible.”

  “I know. And I appreciate how quickly you tackled this. I don’t see any reason to change a thing,” Morgan said as she perused the layouts. “I think we should just give them to Grant to share with the board, and then move into production as soon as we have the okay. I should have the copy finalized in the next few days.”

  “Do you want to run these by him, or shall I?”

  Morgan straightened up. “You might as well do it. I’m sort of off the beaten path here, and you see him more often than I do.”

  Kit gathered the material together and began putting it in her portfolio case. “So when is he going to take you out to the camp?” At Morgan’s surprised look, Kit grinned. “I have my sources. I called the office because I needed Mary to e-mail me a JPEG of the logo, and she told me about Sylvia’s idea.”

  “I haven’t heard from him yet. And I can put the material together without a visit,” Morgan replied, striving for an indifferent tone.

  “I’m sure you can. But it would help to see the place. I’ll say something to him when I drop these off.”