Relinquish (Balm in Gilead Book 1) Read online

  Betsy turned her head to see Cecily Evans stepping out of what looked to be an office. She looked exactly as she had always looked—tall, slim, beautiful, and perfect with ash brown hair pulled into a low bun, subtle makeup, heels, and small glasses that gave her an almost prim look.

  She smiled at both of them graciously. “Zeke has his own way about him, and that way is not charming. But he’s worked here since we opened, and he can help you with anything you need. Just try to overlook his bear-like qualities.”

  Zeke was standing next to the elevators—not very far away—so he must have heard her words. But obviously they didn’t surprise or offend him, since he didn’t even turn his head to look in their direction.

  “I’m Cecily,” she added with another smile, extending a hand, complete with perfect French manicure, to John. “You must be John Davenport.”

  His face relaxed slightly, and Betsy could tell he liked Cecily a lot more than Zeke. “Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Your room is on the third floor.” She handed him a key and a folder in which was obviously information about the center. “Zeke will show you. I’ll let you get settled, but when you feel like it, come on down and I’ll show you around.”

  Betsy was relieved Cecily wasn’t going to join them on the trip up to the room, mostly because she didn’t want the other woman around when John found out a few details of his stay here.

  They ascended the elevator with a silent, unsmiling Zeke—Betsy noticed his eyes were as blue as John’s—and they followed him down a hallway.

  Betsy gasped in pleasure as they walked into a big, sunny room. It was decorated in an attractive, simple way in shades of green and beige, but the furniture was of good quality and the artwork was original. There was a glass door that led out onto a balcony large enough to fit a chaise and two chairs.

  “This is amazing,” she said.

  “This doesn’t look like a discount room to me,” John said. He clearly thought it was nice too.

  “We’re not full,” Zeke grunted, parking the luggage next to the bed. Then he just walked out the door.

  “Nice,” John muttered, clearly annoyed by the other man.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Betsy said, hoping the pleasantness of the room would make up for his reluctance to be here. “Isn’t this a great room?”

  “Yeah. It’s something.”

  “Please, John,” she said softly. “You’ve got to stay here. Can’t you try to make the best of it?”

  She could see a brief struggle on his face until his features finally smoothed out. “Okay. Fine.”

  The tension in her chest relaxed slightly. “It’s really a nice place, and I don’t think you’ll find it too annoying. The information is probably in that folder, but basically you can do what you want, as long as you participate in five physical activities a week and five creative activities a week.”

  He would have no trouble with the physical activities—he’d always stayed in great shape—but she wasn’t surprised by the way his brows arched. “Creative?”

  “It won’t be that bad. Most of the time, you can do what you want.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. Then jerked when the door to the room swung open again and Zeke made another appearance.

  He held out his hand. “Electronics.”

  John stared at the other man. “What?”

  “He wants your electronic devices,” Betsy said, knowing the time had finally come. “They’re not allowed here.”

  John’s mouth dropped open slightly. “They’re not allowed?”

  “No. Sorry. That’s part of the way you get rest. No phones or tablets or… or…”

  “I can’t have my laptop?”

  Betsy shook her head.

  “Forget it.”

  “John—”

  “That’s ridiculous. What will I do when people need to reach me?”

  “You set up an away message on your email, didn’t you?”

  “Sure. Of course. But I was still planning to check in sometimes. What if there’s an emergency?”

  “We’ve got people covering for emergencies. Sabbatical means a real break.”

  “And I really can’t have my phone?”

  She shook her head. “You can use the landline here if you need to call out, but it can’t be anything work related. I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, but it really works to take a break from it. You can leave a voice message to deal with calls, or I can cover them for you, if you want.”

  He wasn’t convinced. He was still planning to object.

  She added, “John, it’s the rule here. You have to do it.”

  He let out a breath, more of a groan. “Damn it, Bets. How could you do this to me?”

  She jerked slightly, feeling like she’d been slapped, although she knew she couldn’t take it personally.

  This had been dumped on John without warning. He’d had no time to prepare himself. She, Chuck, and Curtis had decided it was better to do it this way, so he wouldn’t be able to worm his way out of it, but there were consequences to their decision.

  One of the consequences was that John was going to resent her for it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pleased when her voice sounded mostly natural. “But you don’t have a choice in this.”

  He was frowning as he dug into his saddle bag, pulled out his laptop, and handed it to Zeke. He took his phone from his pocket and handed it to Betsy.

  She saw his hand on another device he’d pulled out of his bag.

  “He doesn’t have to give up his Kindle, does he? It’s the only way he reads books.”

  When Zeke studied the e-reader suspiciously, Betsy added, “It doesn’t have web browsing capabilities. It’s just for reading.”

  Zeke gave a brief nod, and Betsy let out a breath of relief.

  When Zeke left the room, John slumped into a chair. “I’m going to hate this.”

  “Give it a chance. Maybe you won’t.”

  “I’m not the kind of person who takes it easy.”

  “I know. That’s why you ended up here.”

  He gave her a little scowl, but there wasn’t much animosity in it.

  He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t seem to hate her.

  That was something.

  ***

  An hour later, Betsy had left John and driven the fifteen minutes to her mother’s house.

  Her mother had lived here most of her life, long before it had become a popular tourist destination. Betsy had never known her father, since her mother had not been married when she got pregnant and her father had just taken off. Betsy had tried to convince her mother to move to a nicer and more convenient place, but her mother had refused to leave the little house Betsy had been raised in, on the outskirts of Buxton, one of the little towns that dotted the Outer Banks.

  The neat yard, old house, and cheerful welcome mat were all exactly as she remembered. As was the hug her mother gave her and the tea she made.

  They sat at the kitchen table, drinking the tea as Betsy told her mother about the plan for John and his reaction.

  “I don’t blame him for being annoyed,” Betsy added. “We really did spring it on him.”

  “But it sounds like it’s for the best. The break will be good for him.”

  “Yeah.” Betsy felt a little glum, despite her pleasure at seeing her mother again. She didn’t see her mother nearly as much as she wanted because her job required so much travel.

  “It will be good for you too,” her mother added, as if she’d read some of her thoughts. “Maybe it will be a good time for you to reevaluate.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Her mother gave an innocent shrug. “Nothing bad. Just that it might be a good time to think through what you want for the future.”

  “Mom, we’ve talked about this. I love my job. I want to keep doing it.”

  “I know you do, honey. And I’ve always supported you. But you’ve just turned thirty. And you travel all the time,
you haven’t put down any roots, and you don’t even have a home except that tiny studio apartment in Charlotte. There’s almost no chance of you finding a man to marry and settle down with given the life you lead. Are you saying you don’t want that?”

  “Sure, I’d like to get married, but it just hasn’t happened yet. Right now, my job is the priority. I’m telling you, I’m perfectly happy.”

  She meant it. She absolutely meant it. She tried not to lie to her mother.

  “I believe you. But maybe you can think about how you’ll feel when John finds a woman he wants to marry. Would things still be the same then? Would you still be perfectly happy?”

  Betsy swallowed hard, strangely stunned by the question.

  She wanted to automatically defend herself, prove her mother wrong, but she couldn’t do it.

  The truth was nothing would be the same if John was married.

  They’d always been more like partners than boss and team-member. His companionship was one of the things she loved about her life, along with the community of the rest of the team. She never felt lonely because she was always surrounded by people she knew and loved.

  But it wouldn’t be the same if John was married.

  It wouldn’t be the same at all.

  “I’m not nursing some kind of hopeless crush on him,” she said at last. “I’ve never been that silly.”

  She’d realized soon after meeting him that John would never look at her romantically. He was incredibly attractive and charismatic in a loud, opinionated way. Women were always looking at him longingly. She could see it, even if he appeared oblivious to it.

  Betsy had dated occasionally, but the only guys who asked her out were the needy sort—not the kind she was interested in. There was nothing in her capable of attracting a guy like John. Besides, he was utterly consumed by his work, to the exclusion of anything else in his life.

  “I know you’ve never really let yourself think in that direction. But the heart doesn’t always do what it’s told. And for a long time, you two have been acting like a couple.”

  “We have not—”

  “I’m not saying anything inappropriate has happened between you. I’m just saying that you work together so closely that you’ve relied on each other for emotional support. Like a couple. And I can’t help but worry about how you’ll feel when—five or ten years from now—John finally decides to settle down and marry. He’ll be able to do that. He’s a man. He’ll be able to find someone easily enough, no matter how old he is. But you might be over forty by then. What if you want to have children? What if it’s too late for you to have your chance?”

  Betsy was shaking slightly now, and she raised a hand to cover her eyes. She was usually a composed, matter-of-fact person—in fact, she was known for it—but at the moment she felt like crying.

  Her mother was right.

  She was perfectly happy in her job right now, but she did have other things she wanted in life.

  Marriage and family were two of them.

  She wasn’t likely to ever find that if she continued living the way she was.

  “I don’t want to give up my work.”

  “I don’t want you to give it up either. But maybe you can find a different work situation—one that will allow you to have a full life.”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  Her mother nodded and reached out to cover one of her hands on the table. “Just think about it, dear. You don’t have to figure it out right now. You have a month off. You need the break as much as John does. Maybe by the end of it, you’ll have a clearer idea of what you want.”

  This morning, Betsy would never have believed that she’d be questioning her job in any way.

  But she was now.

  It was heartbreaking to consider leaving a position she loved so much, but most people didn’t last very long in the job she did. It was hard on people psychologically, and it was hard in terms of lifestyle. Maybe it had always only been temporary for her too.

  She loved working with John, but it had been clear from the beginning that he couldn’t offer her everything she wanted.

  Two

  John woke up feeling stupid.

  He’d been genuinely annoyed the day before, and he was convinced most people would have been as well—after being manipulated the way he’d been in being brought here by Betsy and his supervisors.

  But he woke up when sunlight started to stream in from the edges of the curtains, and the first feeling he was aware of was embarrassment.

  He thought of himself as a competent and independent person. People usually listened when he spoke and looked to him for answers.

  He wasn’t the kind of person that others needed to plot about behind his back. He wasn’t weak and helpless.

  But he couldn’t help but feel that way as he hauled himself out of bed.

  He hadn’t slept well.

  He travelled so much that he wasn’t usually afflicted with jet lag, but he normally woke up a few times during the night to check his phone. He’d woken up four times last night, but when he’d reached for the nightstand, he’d had no phone to check.

  The lack of it left him feeling naked, ineffectual.

  He didn’t like it.

  Betsy had been right when she’d said that he needed to suck it up and get through this, though. He couldn’t lose his job. It was the way he contributed to the world. He would be nothing without it. So he forced himself into the shower and into clothes before he made his way downstairs.

  Meals were served in the large dining room, and he was pleased to see that seating options included both communal tables and individual ones.

  He got his food from a self-serve buffet and went to a small table by the window, instead of joining the few others already up and seated at one of the large tables.

  He didn’t want to talk to strangers this morning. He wasn’t fit company.

  He wasn’t a bit hungry today. In fact, his stomach was churning uncomfortably.

  His team’s last job had been in Sudan, trying to bring relief to the victims of a widespread famine that had decimated large communities. The faces of the people he’d interacted with—gaunt men and women, dying children—still haunted him.

  There was one boy named Jamal—about six years old. He’d liked to talk to John about baseball and cars. He’d been so sick when John had left.

  Hopefully, he was responding to the medical treatment they’d provided.

  That famine was horrifying, and so few people in the world were even talking about it.

  No matter how little he felt like eating, John wasn’t about to leave food uneaten on his plate.

  He said a silent grace, asking God to change his attitude and thanking him for the food, but John didn’t feel any better afterward.

  In fact, he felt more guilty, less hungry.

  He swallowed down half a cup of coffee before he started to eat.

  The food was surprisingly good—he’d expected the typical tasteless eggs and rubbery bacon found on most breakfast buffets—but he didn’t really enjoy it. As he kept putting food into his mouth, he looked out the window. His seat looked out onto the far end of the patio. The ocean wasn’t visible from the first floor because the sand dunes were too high, but the view of the pool, with the dunes beyond and a crisp blue sky above, was still quite pleasant.

  Instead of admiring it, John focused on a sea gull pecking at what looked like an old French fry.

  The bird was very small for a gull, and the fry must have been ancient. It was evidently as hard as a rock because the bird kept pecking and pecking but made very little progress.

  The view completely captivated him—going on for more than ten minutes—and when he was finished eating, the bird still hadn’t managed to get more than a few little crumbs.

  “Would you like some more coffee?” a female voice came from above him.

  He responded with an automatic yes before he turned his head to see the server was in fact Cecily Evans, the owner
and manager.

  She was dressed in another skirt and silk blouse with her hair pulled back just like it had been the day before. He wasn’t sure why she dressed up so much in a beach setting like this, but maybe she found the professional appearance helped her maintain authority.

  It could be difficult for attractive women to be in charge. He’d seen it happen in various professional settings more than once.

  “Thanks,” he said, realizing she was waiting for him to speak.

  She seemed nice enough and competent, but John had to stifle a groan when she set the coffee pot down on the table and sat in the chair across from him.

  He didn’t really feel like being friendly this morning.

  It wasn’t Cecily’s fault he was in a bad mood, though, so he managed to smile. “Am I supposed to be socializing?” he asked, nodding toward the large table where more people had gathered. There were about twelve of them now.

  Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “No. Of course not. There’s never any pressure to socialize here.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. A lot of my guests here are in business and in ministry—and they’re forced every day to interact with people. Doing so is part of their job. This place is about rest, and one of the ways people in your position can find rest is by being freed of the pressure of socializing. Some people make friends here, and so they enjoy talking to others. But for others it’s a luxury to be able to simply sit in silence.”

  John had never thought about that before, but he was glad he wouldn’t be given any guilt-trips about not making friends.

  He nodded by way of response.

  Cecily was watching him with intelligent eyes. “There’s no pressure here. As long as you check off your weekly activities, you can do whatever you like with the rest of your time.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He still felt rather stupid—like he wasn’t the kind of person who should be at a place that had a weekly checklist of activities. But at least it wouldn’t be as bad as he’d feared.

  “I believe they’re looking for a fourth for tennis this morning,” Cecily said, nodding toward the large table. “If you like to play.”

  “I don’t mind it, but I’d rather run, if that’s okay.”