“Many are the plans in a man’s heart,
but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”
—Proverbs 19:21

“Hey, Skunk!”

Caedmon Nash kept walking, trying to do what his mother had said and not react to the put-down he never got used to hearing and the bully who never tired of saying it.

“I told you to stay out of my neighborhood!”

Caedmon spun around in the middle of Shady Lane and glared at Abel Drummond and his jerky friends.

Abel took a step forward and shoved Caedmon in the chest. “You got a problem being called Skunk? ’Cause that’s what you are. Black daddy. White mama. And you stink like—”

The other three seventh grade boys chimed in with every vulgar word for excrement Caedmon had ever heard.

“I don’t stink,” he finally said.

“Do too.” Abel’s face wore a derisive grin. “Everybody knows skunks stink up every place they go. That’s why we don’t want you comin’ in this neighborhood.”

“It takes too long to go the other way. If I’m late gettin’ home, I’ll be in big trouble.”

Abel snickered. “What’s your hurry? We all know what your old lady’s doin’ when you’re in school. I hear she likes them darkies so much she doesn’t even charge ’em.”

The other boys guffawed.

Caedmon felt his face turn hot, and it was all he could do not to grab Abel and hit him over and over the way he had imagined doing a hundred times. “Shut up! You don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Caedmon started to walk away.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere till you pay the toll.” Abel glanced back at the other boys. “Let’s show the skunk what the price is for cuttin’ through here.”

Caedmon thought his heart would beat out of his chest. In the next instant he kicked Abel in the shin, then sprinted to the top of the hill, aware of footsteps pounding the pavement behind him.

He ran across the churchyard at First Methodist and out into the cemetery, then weaved his way through the maze of headstones, racing toward the far side of the tall hedge that formed a fence around the property. His eyes found the grave marked “Mills” and he cut in behind it, then dropped to his knees and crawled through an opening at the base of the shrubs, branches scraping his face and arms. He came out the other side, scrambled to his feet, and kept running.

Caedmon heard shouted racial slurs and looked over his shoulder, relieved to see no one chasing him. He stopped and hung his head, his hands on his knees, and tried to catch his breath. For once, he was glad to be the skinniest kid in the class.

“Don’t matter what they say about us,” his mother had said. “Just ignore ’em and mind your own business. We don’t need no trouble.”

Easy for her to say! She wasn’t the one who had to listen to their put-downs and big fat lies. And what did she know about being laughed at and spit on and having her face shoved in the toilet? How he hated Abel and his stupid friends!

Caedmon shuffled across Harbor Street and over the railroad tracks toward the trailer park, his mind screaming with comebacks he wished he’d had the courage to say. He kicked a rock and sent it rolling into the culvert, feeling at the same time anger and sadness that his father wasn’t around and he’d have to figure this out on his own.

Caedmon wet his fingers and wiped the bloody scratches on his arms. It wasn’t fair they could gang up on him and there was nothing he could do about it. Just as soon as he could figure out a way to fight back, he would shut them all up—permanently!

Chapter 1

“Leave it to Beau to turn this into a competition!” Brandon Jones jumped up from the couch and stood leaning on the bookshelves in Kelsey Hartman’s apartment, his hands in his pockets, his irritation turning to perspiration under his cashmere sweater.

Kelsey sank into the back of the leather couch. “He’s just jealous. But it’s not as though Beau Richards is the only one who wants to head up the South Atlantic Region. It’s an enviable position.”

“The job was offered to me, Kel. It’s not as though I tried to ace him out.”

“He’ll get over it. Besides, you’re the right choice for the job. You relate to people much better than he does.” Kelsey got up and slid into Brandon’s arms. “I’m so proud of you. I can hardly wait to tell Mother and Daddy that I’m marrying a regional vice president.”

Regional vice president. Brandon imagined himself in a coat and tie, sitting around the boardroom table, sipping ice water and discussing the latest trends in women’s fashions. “There’s a lot to consider. The corporate office is a more structured environment than I’m used to.”

“Just think what this could mean to our future. Once we’re married, we could live nicely on your salary and bank mine. We’d have a healthy down payment for a house in no time. And I could stay home when we start having kids. It’s an absolute blessing.” Kelsey pushed back and looked up at him, her eyes probing. “What’s wrong? You don’t seem excited.”

“It’s a great opportunity, no question…but it’ll mean putting in more hours. And a lot of Saturdays. That doesn’t leave much time for recreation.”

“For heaven’s sake, it won’t kill us to cut out some of the backpacking and rock climbing. And we can always work out at the gym to stay in shape. We’re talking about securing your future—our future. I can’t believe you’re worried about all that.”

“Well, it’s the outdoor stuff that keeps me sane.”

“Gee, thanks a lot.” Kelsey wiggled out of his arms and flung open the balcony doors, then went outside and stood with her back to him, her arms folded.

“Honey, come back here. You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Brandon walked up behind her, put his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. “You’re the love of my life. Without you, nothing else would matter to me.”

“But it should. Why can’t you be excited for yourself because you’ve been offered a well-deserved promotion?”

“I am. On one level.”

“But…?”

“It’d be a huge adjustment spending my workday cooped up in an office, breathing recirculated air and connecting with nature from tinted windows overlooking downtown Raleigh.”

“It’s one of the best views in the city. And even if you have to work Saturdays, we’d have evenings together without the pressure of your having to leave town again.”

“I know. But it’s not like being on the road’s been a hardship.”

“I hate not seeing you five days in a row.”

“We managed to fall in love, didn’t we? From my perspective, the time we’ve spent together’s been great.”

“It has, but I would dread you being gone that much after we’re married. This promotion would mean no more traveling. And you aren’t that crazy about merchandising the stores anyway.”

Brandon pulled her a little closer. “No, but it’s allowed me freedom to set my own schedule. And there’re things I look forward to on the road.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like taking secondary highways through small communities and eating at hometown cafes…stopping at historical markers and scenic overlooks…driving toward the sunrise when the sky’s orangey pink. Sometimes I have to pull over and watch. There’ve been times on the road when I’ve actually felt closer to God than when I’m in church.”

“Which is just as well since you’ve missed the past three Sundays.” Kelsey turned around in his arms and held his gaze for longer than he was comfortable. “You wouldn’t even consider this promotion if we weren’t engaged, would you?”

“We are engaged, so it’s a moot point.”

“Not really. What affects you affects me. You’re Mr. Enthusiastic at work, and everyone thinks you’re a company man. Are you?”

Brandon kissed the top of her head. “What kind of question is that? I’ve invested seven years at Mavis and Stein.”

“Why do you have a totally different attitude about your work when we’re alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re completely dispassionate about it—almost indifferent.”

Brandon arched his eyebrows. “You’ve never once heard me complain about the company. It’s just that dealing in women’s apparel isn’t my idea of something significant.”

“Being a regional Vice President would certainly be significant. And the salary and benefits would be amazing. You’d be great at it.”

“Tell that to Beau the blowhard.”

“The real reason he’s upset is because you can take it or leave it when he wants it so badly.”

“Everyone wants something badly. I can’t help it if he’s had his eye on this promotion. But if I turn it down, we all know I’ll never go any higher with the company.”

“But is that the only reason you’d consider it? What is it you want badly?”

“To make you happy,” he heard himself say.

“Well, this promotion would certainly do that. But only if you’re enthused about it.”

Brandon looked over her shoulder at the Raleigh skyline. “I will be, Kel. I just have to adjust my thinking. It was never really a goal of mine to be cooped up in an office all day.”

“That’s the second time you’ve used the words cooped up. If you didn’t expect to work in an office, why did you get a business degree?”

“I don’t know. Dad said it would open doors, and I just wanted to get through college. I started working in the catalog department because I needed a job, but I never actually chose this career. I just sort of eased into it. I kept telling myself it would grow on me, but it really hasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? How are we supposed to set a wedding date before we know how much money we’ll—”

“Shhh.” Brandon gently put his finger to her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m going to accept the promotion. I just need to adjust my thinking.”

“Can you do that?”

He pulled her closer and avoided those questioning hazel eyes. “Sure. I can do anything for us.” A giant snowflake fell on his sleeve, and then another and another. He looked up into the January sky, which seconds later became a swirling mass of white. “Come on. We’d better go in.”

Kelsey linked her arm in his, her head against his shoulder, and went back in the apartment. “Just think, before this time next year, we could be married and living in our own home.”

Chapter 2

Ellen Jones watched the entire page vanish from the screen on her laptop and started frantically clicking keys in hopes that she hadn’t done the unthinkable.

“Nooooooo! Please be there! I’ll never be able to remember what I wrote!”

She clicked on to Documents and searched to see if she had saved her work. She hadn’t.

Ellen threw back her head and let out a groan. Why did it seem as though this novel was begging not to be written?

She was suddenly aware of footsteps ascending the winding staircase, and then her husband standing in the doorway of the widow’s watch.

“Were you calling me?” Guy Jones said. “I heard you hollering but couldn’t understand anything you were saying.”

“I was scolding myself.” Ellen turned off her laptop and closed it. “I can’t believe I deleted an entire morning’s work—all my brainstorming ideas gone, just like that.”

“Maybe you saved them in the wrong file.”

Ellen shook her head, fighting the emotion just beneath the surface. “I wasn’t paying attention and hit the wrong button. I know better than not to save whatever I’m working on. My creativity’s flat and I can’t seem to focus.”

“You’re just trying too hard.”

Ellen tapped her fingers on the desk and tried not to sound irritated. “You’re the one who keeps pushing me to finish it.”

“Only so you’ll have a second manuscript ready to go when you get a contract on the first.”

“I’ve been trying for almost three years, Counselor. No one’s going to publish my manuscript. You’ve seen the stack of rejection letters. I’m not cut out to be a novelist.”

Guy went over and pulled her to her feet, his arms around her. “Are you kidding? You’re a writer to the core. We’ve just had a lot of family upheaval that’s played havoc with the flow of creativity. Once you can get quiet inside, the words will come pouring out of you.”

Ellen sighed. “It’s hard to stay motivated when nothing happens.”

“It will. How about me taking you to Gordy’s for lunch?”

“I thought you had to work on your closing for next week’s court case.”

“I do, but I’m ready for a break. It’s ten after eleven. Why don’t we go now and avoid the rush?”

The phone rang and Ellen reached down and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Hi, Mom”

Ellen looked at Guy, her eyebrows raised. “Well, if it isn’t our long lost son, the one who never gets around to returning his messages.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Brandon Jones said. “I’ve had a lot going on.”

“So have you thought any more about coming down over Labor Day? Surely even a vice president can squeeze in a long weekend with three months advance notice.”

“Actually, I was thinking of coming the day after tomorrow.”

“Are you serious?” Ellen locked gazes with Guy.

“Yeah, it’s been way too long. I thought I’d take some time off and head that way.”

“I hope you’re bringing Kelsey with you.”

“Actually, I’m coming by myself. She’s used all her vacation time.”

“What a shame. We were looking forward to getting to know her better. Oh well, your father and I will take you any way we can get you. Do you need directions to the house?”

“No, I printed them off the Internet. Sounds easy. Listen, Mom, I need to take this other call. I should be there by noon, okay?”

“I can hardly wait! Your father will be ecstatic. Drive carefully.”

“I will. See you soon.”

Ellen hung up the phone. “Don’t faint, but Brandon’s coming to visit.”

“I gathered that much. When?”

“He’s driving and should be here by noon on Saturday. Can you believe it?”

“Did I hear right—he’s not bringing Kelsey?”

“She’s out of vacation time. But I got the feeling this is about number two son feeling guilty that he’s never been to Seaport.”

“Good. There’s no excuse for losing touch with his grandfathers. And he’s never laid eyes on either of Owen’s kids. How long’s he staying?”

“I forgot to ask. Goodness, I need to make a list and get to the grocery store. I’m sure he’s expecting peach cobbler the minute he walks in the door.” Ellen laughed, her heart suddenly light. “I’ve missed him so much. It’s hard to believe our baby’s a vice president and engaged to be married.”

“Looks like the five years we spent prodding him through college is finally paying off.” Guy smiled wryly. “But I want to spend time with the young lady who’s got her hooks into him and make sure she’s not after his money.”

Ellen chuckled. “Will you stop? Kelsey’s a lovely girl. I should probably call Owen and tell him his brother’s coming.”

“Try his cell number. He was driving to Pensacola today for a meeting.”

Ellen dialed the number, trying to remember how long it had been since her two sons had seen each other. “I sure hope Owen and Hailey don’t have plans for the weekend.”

“Hello.”

“Owen, it’s Mom. You’ll never guess who’s coming to town.”

* * *

Brandon Jones pulled down the metal door of the rented storage space that was packed to the hilt with nearly everything he owned. He locked the padlock and glanced at the Raleigh skyline in the distance, then walked over to his yellow Nissan Xterra and climbed in the driver’s seat, regretting last year’s decision not to buy that classy little hybrid.

At least he had enough in savings to get him by for a while—as long as he didn’t have to pay rent. Rent. How would his parents react when they realized that his coming for a visit was going to involve an extended stay?

Brandon was suddenly aware of a figure shuffling toward the car, the man’s clothes filthy, his hair sticking out in all directions. His empty eyes matched the color of the dirt pile on the adjacent lot.

“Hey, buddy,” the man said, “I’m going through a rough spell. Could you spare some change?”

So you can blow it on booze? I don’t think so. “Uh, sorry. I haven’t got any cash on me.”

The man looked at him as if he’d been expecting that response and kept on walking, his shoulders slumped.

Brandon watched him for half a minute, then opened the door and stepped out of the car and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Mister. I’m headed over to Jake’s Cafe. I could buy you lunch.”

* * *

Brandon unfolded his arms and took them off the table so the waitress could set a double cheeseburger and fries in front of him.

The unkempt stranger who identified himself as “just Gary” had ordered a turkey breast sandwich, cottage cheese, and a glass of milk and had said very little on the drive over or in the twenty minutes they had waited for their order.

“Will there be anything else?” the waitress asked.

“This ought to do it,” Brandon said.

Gary grabbed half his sandwich and took several huge bites before he began to chew, his cheeks puffed out like those of a chipmunk. It sounded as though he mumbled a thank-you as he reached for the glass of milk.

Brandon stole several well-spaced glances at Gary’s face, careful not to be too obvious. He guessed him to be in his mid to late fifties and wondered what kind of sob story the guy had tucked away to justify his circumstances. He didn’t ask.

The two men ate in awkward silence.

When Gary finished, he wiped his mouth with the napkin and started to get up. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“You want another sandwich? Dessert? Something else?”

Gary held his gaze, those piercing brown eyes seeming to size him up. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”

“Why don’t you have dessert, too? I’m going to have a piece of pie, and I hate eating alone.”

“All right.”

Brandon motioned to the waitress to come to the table. “We both want dessert. I’ll have pecan pie and coffee with cream.”

“Same here.”

“Okay, then,” the waitress said. “I’ll be right back.”

Gary folded his dirty hands on the table and looked out the window. “I haven’t had pecan pie in a long time. My mom’s was the best.”

“Mine makes the best peach cobbler in the northern hemisphere.”

There was that uncomfortable silence again. Brandon looked around the café and noticed a few people were whispering and looking over at his lunch guest.

“Never eaten with a homeless guy before?” Gary asked.

“No, I guess I haven’t.”

“People always stare. I’m used to it. Looks like you’re pretty successful. Nice SUV.”

“Yeah, too bad it’s not paid for. I’m between jobs at the moment.”

“Laid off?”

“No, I quit. The pressure got to me.”

Gary lifted his eyebrows and didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure that probably sounds foolish to you, considering your circumstances. But I know it was the right decision.” Brandon hated that he sounded defensive. “It’s suffocating being in an office all day.”

“Yeah, why suffer in a temperature-controlled environment just to have money when you can get free room and board in the great outdoors?”

Brandon took a sip of ice water, surprised by Gary’s sarcastic tone and wondering what kind of response the man expected to a comment like that. He was relieved when the waitress brought their dessert and coffee and set it on the table.

“Anything else?” she asked.

Brandon glanced over at Gary. “You want a sandwich to go?”

“Okay, sure. Peanut butter and jelly would be good.”

Brandon reached in his pocket and pulled out his credit card and handed it to the waitress. “Add the PBJ to my bill and we’re done.”

“All right, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Brandon’s eyes followed her until she walked through the swinging doors. He was aware that Gary had started talking again, his mouth full of pecan pie.

“I’m not lazy, in case that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Look, man, I’m not judging you. I’m not exactly batting a thousand either. I’ve got to face my parents and tell them I just turned my back on what they consider the opportunity of a lifetime.” Brandon took a bite of pie and washed it down with coffee. “So why aren’t you working?”

“People always think it’s because I’m either lazy or a drunk. Actually, I’m just crazy.”

“You don’t seem crazy to me.”

Gary laughed and then laughed louder. “Of course, I am. I’m nuttier than a fruitcake. Everyone knows people choose to be homeless, and no one in his right mind would want to live this way.”

Brandon shifted in his chair, aware of people staring. “That doesn’t mean you’re crazy. You must have a reason. Explain it to me. I’d like to understand.”

Gary looked down at his plate and said in a hushed voice, “No one’s ever cared to understand.”

“Then let me be the first.”

Several seconds passed in silence, then Gary said, “I was a detective once. Vice. Can you believe it?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I was good, too. Investigated dozens of cases and got a lot of losers put behind bars. But I got sick and tired of seeing the bad side of people, day in and day out. After a few years, I got burned out and quit. Never could get motivated to do anything else. My wife divorced me and took the kids, and I set out to find the meaning of life. I figured there must be a reason for all this insanity.” Gary reached across the table with his eyes. “But I always came up empty. Far as I can tell, we’re born, the strong prey on the weak, we get old, we die. Seems pretty pointless.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

Gary snickered. “If there is a God, He’s sleeping on the job—at least the God the Salvation Army keeps trying to sell me.”

The waitress walked over to the table and handed Brandon the credit card receipt. “You gentlemen come again.”

Gary stood and picked up the To Go box the waitress had set on the table. “Well, this gentleman is heading out. Thanks for helping me out, Brandon. Really, I mean that. You seem like a nice kid. Hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“Thanks.”

Gary took a few steps toward the door and then stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, if you ever figure out what the heck life is about, would you come tell me? I’m living under the Twelfth Street Bridge.”

Look for Not by Chance in September of 2006.