A Case for Forgiveness

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Hannah looked puzzled. “I have absolutely no idea. Maybe it’s Mrs. Wizencroft’s favorite color. She can be a real dragon lady, runs the Seniors’ Circle like it’s the Marine Corps.”

Jonah laughed. “It’s great to see you, Hannah. Gramps told me you were back home. How are you holding up, not being able to ski?”

Hannah reacted with a look like he’d poked her in the ribs with a stick.

“I’m sorry—was that not okay to ask?” Stamp, stamp.

She grinned. “No, actually, it is. It’s just that no one ever asks me that—except Shay. They ask me how I’m doing or how I am, but no one ever asks me about skiing. I think people are afraid that I’m going to break down and start bawling all over them or something.” She tipped her head, looking thoughtful for a second. Then she added, “Which I might. And it feels...how much time have you got?”

Jonah pulled his brows up and made a tsk-ing sound. “No time, actually, I’m super...” He stamped Bernice’s card. “Duper.” He reached over to stamp Doc’s card, who had apparently exhausted the subject of gout, but was now whispering loudly in Erma’s ear about lupus. “Busy,” he added as he then reached over and stamped her card.

Hannah made a big show of protesting. “Well, skipping over the accident and the ensuing realization that my career—my life—was over?” She nodded as if giving herself permission to continue. “Okay, so, skipping over all that and in addition to trying to forgive the drunk driver who almost killed me, I’m learning to enjoy life in a different, more content-based way—as my expensive sports psychologist terms it. Not that I wouldn’t ski competitively again if I could—without risking messing up my body forever, because I would. But the cool thing is that I’m learning and trying to accept, that skiing doesn’t define me as a person.”

“That’s...awesome, Hannah.” And it was. Jonah could only imagine what that kind of recovery entailed. Hannah had been skiing since she was four years old. Even Jonah had to admit that when he thought of Hannah—he couldn’t picture much else but her on a pair of skis.

“Yep, it is.”

“How are you doing that?”

She belted out a laugh before commenting, “Slowly, painfully, and with extreme difficulty. Kind of a ‘two steps forward, one step back’ kind of thing. Shay has been amazing, of course, giving me a job and a place to live and tons of unconditional sister support.”

Her tone was light, but Jonah could hear the pain still lurking in her voice. He wasn’t sure what to say. He stamped his card, and his adopted cards, and struggled to come up with something profound.

Hannah was smiling at him, warmly. “Shay’s right about you, isn’t she?”

He let out a chuckle. “Probably, but in what way are we referring to specifically?”

“About your lawyering, specifically—how important it is to you. You can’t even begin to consider what your life would be like if you couldn’t be an attorney, can you?”

This was true, he thought, and Shay had certainly accused him of putting too much importance on it in the past. But the part he’d never understood was how his focus on his career was so different than how Shay felt about the inn. He’d asked her about it when they’d had that fight a couple years back, but she’d only looked at him like he was the biggest fool on the planet.

He looked up at Shay now. She was such a force in this town. If it was possible to personify a place, Shay did so with the Faraway Inn. She was the Faraway Inn, and how ironic he thought, that the word also described the nature of their relationship; Jonah and Shay—so far away—too far away from each other in every sense that really mattered.

“I’m sure your sister couldn’t imagine her life without the Faraway Inn either.” Jonah could hear the defensive tinge in his tone.

Hannah’s chuckle had him thinking that she could hear it, too. “That’s where you two have some common ground then, isn’t that right, counselor?”

“Common ground?”

“Shay thinks she wouldn’t be who she is without the inn and you probably think you’d just shrivel and die without the ‘attorney at law’ tacked on to the end of your name. Common ground.”

Shay was staring at him again. He met her eyes and felt a shot of awareness course through him because she was smiling at him—that dazzling dimpled smile that used to leave him dumbstruck. He smiled in return, and had to correct his previous thought, because they weren’t so far away in all the ways that mattered—just the ones that would allow them to ever be together again.

Hannah had started talking once more. “...but if there’s one thing I have learned from my experience it’s that true happiness is not about what you do for a living, there’s a lot else besides work, right? That’s what Dr. Vossel keeps telling me anyway. And I’m trying my hardest to believe it.”

Jonah stared blankly at Hannah, taken aback by her statement, not sure if he agreed, but certainly not wanting to disagree in light of everything she’d been through.

Jonah looked around in bafflement as some in the crowd began making a “quack, quack” noise. Then Shay called out something that sounded like “clickety-click.”

Hannah grinned, then reached over and stamped the O-66 space on his card.

“O-66,” she explained and then yelled, “Bingo!”

* * *

SHAY ANNOUNCED A short break and then dabbed the sweat from her brow with a tissue.

Janie handed her a glass of cold punch. “Looks like Caleb and Mary Beth are getting pretty cozy.”

“I noticed that. It’s sweet, huh? They’ve been spending quite a bit of time together lately.”

“Bernice is gunning hard for Doc.”

“I could hear that, too—all the way up here.”

They shared a chuckle.

“Jonah only takes his eyes off of you long enough to stamp an entire table’s worth of bingo cards, which surprisingly doesn’t take him long at all. It’s like he’s a veteran.”

Shay grinned. “You can’t tell but his eyes are pleading with me to come and save him.”

“Save him?”

“Yeah, I kind of, um, encouraged him to come tonight.”

“Ah,” Janie said with a quick grin. “I see. Well, he should be here. It’s not going to kill him to spend a night out with his grandfather.”

They both watched Jonah extricate himself from the table where he’d been sitting for the last hour. Shay had to give him credit for sticking around this long.

“I think he’s heading over here. Are you going to—save him, I mean?”

Shay turned to fiddle with the bingo cage so Jonah couldn’t read her lips. “Not. A. Chance.”

Janie snickered.

“As a matter of fact—I think we both deserve to go home early tonight. Or even better, Janie, how about a drink at the Cozy Caribou? Text our good buddies, Laurel and Emily, and see if we can meet up.”

“But I’m supposed to call the numbers next.”

“Oh, Janie, my dear, sweet cousin-slash-friend—watch and learn.”

“Good evening, ladies,” Jonah said as he approached them.

“Hey, Jonah,” Janie said.

“Hi, having fun?” Shay asked.

“Yes,” he said sarcastically. “I can only think of about eight-thousand things I’d rather be doing.”

Shay frowned.

“Hey,” he continued with a laugh. “I’m here, aren’t I? And I have been stamping away over there like a madman in case you haven’t noticed. I’m probably going to end up with carpal tunnel.”

He’d obviously intended to goad her.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am kind of having a good time.”

His smile seemed entirely genuine, and Shay felt her insides begin to melt along with her resolve.

“And Gramps is loving it.”

She considered aborting her plan.

“I also find it highly amusing that this is what you choose to do with your free time.”

That comment shifted her right back into action.

“You think it’s funny that we donate our free time to the Seniors’ Circle, where the money earned here tonight goes to the hospital’s home hospice outreach? For hospice care like your nana had before she passed away.”

“Shay, I was joking. I’m—”

“Why can’t you believe it?” Janie interrupted.

Shay answered for him, “Because he’s a rich and important attorney in Chicago and a community game of charity bingo in his Podunk hometown is far beneath him. He’s been spending the entire evening thinking about how much money he’s losing by being here and wondering how lonely his car is at home without him.”

Jonah’s jaw tightened, but Shay noticed he didn’t deny it. “Well, I think the important thing is that I’m here.”

Shay applauded. “Praise for Jonah for spending time with his grandfather.”

“And you know Shay, you don’t have to be so—”

“Honest? I know, it’s a fault.”

Janie’s eyes widened, and then she tried to hide a smile. “I’m just going to go use the ladies’ room before my, uh, shift.” She pointed and walked away.

“I thought we were going to try and get along,” Jonah said, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Gramps’s sake?”

“Yeah, well, you started in with your snarky comments.”

“Why are you so touchy tonight?”

“Look, I’m sorry, Jonah. I—”

“You know, disliking something doesn’t mean you think you’re superior to it—it means you don’t like it. I don’t like Japanese food either, but I don’t think I’m superior to the country of Japan.”

Okay, he had a point there—sort of, but that was irrelevant. She needed to change her tune if she was going to get the rest of the night off and, more to the point, take the big-city attorney down a peg or two.

“Yeah, Jonah, you’re probably right. I’m just stressed, I think. Worried about your gramps, worried about Hannah, I’ve got staffing issues at the inn, and I’m...tired.”

She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes at her attitude change. Then his shoulders sunk slightly, his face softened as his hands slid into the back pockets of his jeans. She knew sympathy when she saw it.

Reel him in, she told herself—nice and easy.

She reached over and slowly started spinning the basket that contained the little colored balls. They began tumbling over one another. There had been a call a few years ago for an electronic bingo machine, but Shay was glad the Seniors’ Circle had opposed the upgrade. To her, bingo just wouldn’t be the same without the metal basket full of wooden balls making that distinctive clacking noise. The sound also served to alert the troops that the time had come to pipe down, which they were beginning to do already.

Shay leaned over and casually announced the pattern for the coming round. She slowed the rotation of the basket until a ball released and rolled down the chute. Then she reached over and plucked the ball from the little cup where it landed. She picked it up...and made a sound of despair as it slipped through her fingers, landing on the floor and bouncing out of sight. Half of the crowd let out a collective groan, most of the other half looked around in bewilderment, while a smattering of flirtatious yell-talking continued.

Jonah bent to look for the ball while Shay took a step back. After a few seconds Jonah reached down and then promptly stood, proudly holding the ball aloft like a hard-won carnival prize.

“Oh, Jonah, thank you,” she said with relief. “Can you go ahead and read it?” She blinked and squinted and pointed at her eye, motioning that she had something in it.

Jonah obliged. “N-35,” he cooed into the microphone. “N-35.”

“Shoot,” Shay said when he glanced over at her again. She bent to her knees. “Now I dropped my contact. Would you mind calling the next number, too?”

“Uh...sure.” He nodded and then reached over and began spinning the basket. “Like this?” He slowed the rotation until the next ball clicked into position.

“That’s great,” she gushed. “You’re a natural.”

“N-31,” he called smoothly. “N-31.”

Shay crawled farther away as Jonah went ahead with the next sequence and then the next. Finally, she rose and scurried over to where Janie waited by the door with their coats and bags.

“Masterful,” Janie said with a giggle as she handed over Shay’s belongings.

“Thank you.” She executed a quick bow. She looked at Jonah and watched his face transform from bewilderment to understanding as he realized what she was doing. He narrowed his eyes menacingly as Shay gave him two thumbs up. She added a wave over her shoulder as she and Janie strolled out the door.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_ee17e7ea-bcb4-5834-89ac-44cfdc249931)

JONAH LOOKED AROUND Gramps’s office with the same degree of bafflement he had ever since he’d arrived. He’d spent the last few days hanging out with Gramps and trying to get a sense of his overall health. He would seem fine one minute and then the next he’d appear tired or weak. His appetite was good; they’d gone out for dinner a couple nights ago where he’d seemed as young and energetic as ever, just as he had at bingo.

Doc had been over to play cards twice and their gin rummy sessions were as heated and jovial as ever. Gramps had been working in the yard yet taking a lot of naps, and two of the days he’d slept for hours.

He’d confessed to Jonah that he didn’t feel up to spending any time in the office, so Jonah had begun sorting through the files on Gramps’s desk, which was a mess—also very unlike him. He’d always advised Jonah that the trouble it took to keep things neat now saved precious time searching for important details later. Appearances suggested to Jonah that Gramps hadn’t been following his own advice. That concerned him, too—as did one of the case files Jonah had found near the bottom of a pile.

“Gramps?” he called into the other room.

The office of Caleb Cedar, attorney at law, was located inside Gramps’s house with an outside entrance for clients. This had been an ideal set-up when Jonah was growing up because he’d been able to hang out there while Gramps was working, yet still enjoy the comforts of home.

Jonah had been nine years old when the small plane carrying his parents to Anchorage for a wedding had crashed. Jonah was supposed to have been with them, but he’d begged to be allowed to stay home with Gramps. His parents had acquiesced and then, less than three hours later, they were dead. Jonah had never recovered from the opposing emotions he’d felt as a child—felt still, even though his rational brain begged him to be rational about these feelings.