In His Dreams by Gail Gaymer Martin

Author:Gail Gaymer Martin [Martin, Gail Gaymer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2007-10-19T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Marsha stepped from the shower and grasped the bath towel to dry herself. She couldn’t believe she’d accepted a date with Jeff. A friendly date, she kept reminding herself.

This morning she’d been disappointed. She’d driven to Jeff’s to pick up Bonnie for church, and she’d prayed that he would go with them, but he hadn’t. He’d waved to her and Barb from the doorway as Bonnie, who’d looked surprisingly timid, had walked to her car, neatly dressed and carrying a Bible under her arm. Marsha wondered if the Bible had been Bonnie’s idea or Jeff’s.

Marsha had leaned out the window. “We’ll be at Beaver Island Christian Church on Kenwabikise Lane.”

He’d lifted his hand as if he understood, then had faded from view while Marsha’s hope had dipped like a boat on rough seas.

When the brick-colored church with its white shutters had come into view, Marsha had sent up a prayer, fearing Bonnie’s behavior, but she’d handled the service well and had asked for help finding the Bible verses. Both Marsha and Barb had let her know how proud they’d been and, when they’d returned after church, Marsha had followed Bonnie inside to tell Jeff how well things had gone, but he’d only said thanks and reminded her he’d pick her up at seven for dinner. She sensed his distance. Tonight she wanted to know why.

Dinner at seven. Marsha’s stomach did a tumble as she wiped the steam from the mirror, then draped the towel over the bar. Her skin looked rosy from the hot water and probably from the sun she’d gotten while tanning on the beach in the early afternoon.

Jeff had convinced Bonnie they’d go to the lighthouse another day, but Marsha wished he’d agreed and would have invited her to go along so she could find out what was bugging him. She didn’t understand him at times.

Marsha moisturized, then slipped on her robe and added lotion to her face. So far at forty-two, she’d escaped the typical aging wrinkles, and she figured the daily face cream had kept her looking young. Young. She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. Forty-two wasn’t young, anymore.

With age on her mind, she recalled that Jeff was a couple years younger than she was. Men of forty were usually interested in women much younger not older. She heaved a sigh and forced the thought from her mind.

By six-thirty, Marsha was ready to don the only dress she’d brought to the island. Dating hadn’t even been a vague notion when she’d packed. Dating. The whole idea set her on edge. Dinner with a friend. That was all it was.

She slid the rust-colored sheath over her head. The simple rounded neckline looked plain so she added a gold necklace with an orange fire opal that sparkled shades of coral and red. Don had bought it for her on their only cruise, a trip to Mexico. They’d dreamed of many trips together, but nothing so romantic had occurred again before his illness. Putting

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