Waterfalls Read online

  “I like the fettuccine the best of the two,” Jake said a moment later.

  “I love it all,” Helen said. She twirled another hearty forkful before returning to her questions for Jake. “So give me your philosophy, Jake. You don’t believe in holding hands with women when you pray. I didn’t know this. What else don’t I know?”

  Jake ate quietly, thinking before he responded. Meredith noticed that his hair looked lighter than it had a few weeks ago. He had a faint birthmark on the right side of his face. The small, brownish patch, about the size of a dime, was located on his jawline by his ear. She realized she was staring and looked back at her plate.

  It was no good. Instead of seeing pasta and salad, she saw the image of Jake in her kitchen wearing her blue lemon apron over his dark green knit shirt and jeans. He was invading her consciousness. He was sitting right next to her. His cocoa-butter scent was still close enough for her to draw in if she turned just right.

  Meredith was startled. She didn’t remember ever feeling so overwhelmed by a man’s presence. Without warning, her heart began to beat faster, and she suddenly felt thirsty.

  “My philosophy of life or of love?” Jake asked Helen.

  “Love, of course.”

  “Love is a choice that involves commitment. You can marry anyone and make the marriage work if you’re both committed to it. The emotion of love is not the foundation for a marriage relationship. Commitment is.”

  “Don’t tell my Herb that,” Helen responded. “He says it’s our love that keeps us together. We’re going on two years now.”

  “That’s longer than the average,” Jake said.

  “Average what?” Meredith asked, slightly annoyed at his unfeeling approach to things as sacred as love and marriage.

  “The average couple stays in love eighteen months. All kinds of studies prove it. Falling in love, as we call it, is little more than a chemical reaction. Once it wears off, all that’s left is commitment. That’s why it’s a choice. To choose to marry means you’re looking far beyond the immediate chemical reaction your brain is experiencing when you fall in love. You’re choosing to make a commitment for life, even after the chemical reaction is gone.”

  Helen plopped down her fork with a fwap. “That has to be the most ridiculous bunch of hogwash I have ever heard! People don’t make logical value assessments like that when it comes to love and marriage. They fall in love and get married. That’s all there is to it. It’s magical and wonderful and overpowering. Not a chemical reaction! Where did you get all this nonsense?”

  Jake appeared unmoved by her strong response. “My roommate Brad. He did his thesis on it. ‘The Fallacy of Falling in Love and Why Americans Spend Their Lives Trying to Recreate the Sensation.’ It’s a fascinating paper.”

  Meredith remembered how blunt Brad had been when she had met him at the conference center. She also remembered that he was married and had made a comment about how he would have married sooner if he had known how great it was.

  “Brad seems to be awfully happy as a married man,” Meri said.

  “Sure, he’s happy,” Jake said. “It’s been all of what? Three months. He knows the thrill will rub off. That’s what his paper is about. Most people don’t expect the feelings to go away, so when they do, people think something is wrong with them or their mate, and they go searching for whatever it is that will restore those feelings. That’s why Americans, more than individuals in any other culture, make poor choices when it comes to meeting their emotional needs. They’ll forget commitments, logic, and virtue in the quest for feeling that chemical reaction of love once more.”

  “You have a point,” Helen said. “I have a friend who just walked out on a fifteen-year marriage because she said her husband repulses her physically. I’ve seen her husband, and I can tell you there’s nothing repulsive about him. It’s that her feelings have changed toward him.”

  Meredith couldn’t disagree with Jake either. She had heard her dad talk over the years about how stunned he always was when a couple came into the church office and announced they were divorcing. Many times the reason they gave was that they weren’t in love anymore. Her father had preached grand sermons on making love last. He had written a paper for their denomination on teaching young people to enter marriage with a view to selflessly serve the other for a lifetime.

  Meredith, the most compliant of the four Graham daughters, had listened intently to her father’s teachings when she was nearing the end of high school and trying to figure out her up-and-down emotions. As a result, she corralled her heart well. Many men over the years confessed to her that she lit a flame within their hearts. She silenced them all with her truthful admission that she didn’t feel the same about them and asked them just to be friends.

  “I think you’re right in some ways, Jake,” she said. “But when you look at people like Brad and Alissa or my sister and Jonathan, don’t you see something more than a logical choice to get married? I think Shelly and Jonathan are definitely in love emotionally, and they’ve known each other their whole lives, which is way past your eighteen-month limit.”

  “That’s because they have chosen to be in love, and they are experiencing the chemical reaction that comes with that choice. The feelings will wear off, and then where will they be?”

  When Helen and Meri didn’t answer immediately, Jake gave them his clinical answer. “They’ll be in commitment. Not necessarily in love. And the commitment is what lasts for a lifetime.”

  “I take it,” Helen said, sloshing her last bit of linguine in the puddle of white sauce on her china plate, “that you have never been in love.”

  “I’ve been in love lots of times, starting when I was about twelve,” he said with a grin. “I’ve never been in commitment, though. And I don’t plan to be for quite some time.”

  “Should we assume that’s why you don’t allow yourself to hold hands with women when you pray?” Helen said. “The slightest touch might lead to a chemical reaction, and there you’d be, having to make a choice about lifetime commitment.”

  Jake didn’t answer. His facial expression told them Helen was close to the truth, but he wouldn’t admit it because her wording sounded so stern.

  Meri felt ripped off. What good was it to guard her heart all these years only to find that when, for the first time, she was experiencing a chemical reaction and was eager to consider the possibility of lifetime commitment, the other party was shut down like a fireworks stand on the fifth of July?

  “You know,” Helen said, wagging her empty fork at Jake, “you make great food but lousy table conversation, Jacob. Only men do this. They analyze all the romance out of romance.”

  “What is romance?” Jake challenged.

  “I don’t want to hear your opinion,” Helen said good-naturedly. “I’m a big fan of romance, and I won’t let you spoil it for me. Let’s talk business. It has to be more enjoyable than this.”

  “I’ll make coffee,” Meredith said, excusing herself and leaving her plate half full of pasta. She had lost her appetite when she lost all hope that Jake might be interested in her. It seemed so unfair. First her emotions had soared, a birthday high, as she worked side by side with Jake, making her favorite foods. Then the image of Jake in her lemon apron and the discovery of the birthmark below his right ear had warmed her heart. So what? He had all but put in writing that he wasn’t interested in her. What good were hopes when you had hit a quarter of a century and had lost all interest in eating your own birthday cake?

  “You did read Jake’s manuscript, didn’t you?” Helen called after Meredith as she left the table.

  She hadn’t even opened the manila envelopes Helen had sent her. If she had known one of them was Jake’s, would she have moved it to the top of her pile?

  “No, not yet.”

  “Meredith!” Helen spouted. She sounded upset. “How are we supposed to have a business discussion if you haven’t even looked over the material yet?”

  Meredith wanted to turn ar
ound and yell at Helen the way Meri and her sisters used to fight by saying, “You didn’t tell me I was supposed to read it before tonight. You didn’t tell me Jacob Wilde was the client you were bringing. Why is this my fault? It’s my birthday, and everyone is supposed to be nice to me, not yell at me and dash my hopes!”

  But she said in her professional voice, “Why don’t you both give me a summary? I’d love to hear it directly from you.”

  “It’s a deal for the book rights to accompany the film Jake is producing,” Helen said. “For goodness’ sake, Meri, how hard would it have been to open the envelope and have a quick scan? I told you this one was a honey.”

  “Yes, you did,” Meredith said, scooping the ground coffee into the bleached white filter and filling the water up to the ten-cup level. “Tell me more.”

  Jake turned around and watched her for a moment before giving his input. “It’s a series for kids,” he said, his tone a notch softer than when he had been spouting his love philosophy. “I call it Young Heart. The hero is a ten-year-old boy who is on a journey, like in Pilgrim’s Progress. You know, the classic by John Bunyan.”

  “Yes, I know it well,” Meri said.

  “It could actually be classified as a fantasy. Sort of Pilgrim’s Progress with a Narnia twist, if you will. We’re looking at six videos and the companion books to go with them. There’s potential for more books. We only have funding for the first six videos; however I’d like ultimately to do twelve.”

  “I heard from my sister that you’re planning to do some filming at the Heather Creek waterfall,” Meri said.

  “Yes, it’s really perfect for several forest scenes. I meet with Kyle and Jonathan tomorrow, and if all goes well, we should begin to shoot in a month.”

  Meredith cleared the plates as they waited for the coffee to brew.

  “The beauty of this project,” Helen said, “is that the books are nearly written, and if Terrison Publishing jumps right on it, the books could hit the racks the same time as the videos. We could do a strong cross promotion to launch the series and develop some ancillary products right out of the gate. I was thinking of action figures and pens and pencils in the shape of a sword, like the sword Young Heart carries.” Helen’s face lit up with her enthusiasm. “We’d want Terrison to front the money for the ancillary products and agree to a working franchise with the film production company.”

  “Whoa,” Meredith said. “You’re going to have to negotiate all that with Dan in the legal department. I don’t have much say when it comes to that side of the deals.”

  Helen leaned forward and cut to the chase. “I’d like a six-book contract for my client here, with an option for six more and an escalating royalty scale. Release of the books must coincide with the release of the videos, or we’ll take it elsewhere.” Helen sat back in her chair and eyed Meredith like someone who had just thrown down her gauntlet. When Helen talked business, she talked business.

  “You know I can’t give you an answer right now,” Meri said. “But it sounds very intriguing.” She caught herself. Intriguing? Why did I use that word? That was my word for Jake. Am I going to be able to separate the man from the project? I guess I’m going to have to.

  “I have one question,” Meri said, looking at Helen and then at Jake. “You said the books were almost written. What exactly does that mean?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The coffeemaker dripped the last drop, and Meredith served the coffee while Helen and Jake came up with an answer to her question.

  Jake spoke first. “I’ve slanted the manuscript to a screenplay format. The stories are all right there; they just need to be lifted out and restructured into twelve books.”

  Meredith tried not to laugh as she placed the cup of coffee before Jake. “That’s a boatload of work,” she said.

  “Is it?” he asked innocently.

  “We would need to hire a ghostwriter,” Helen stated. “Jake’s time is booked from here on with the videos. Don’t you have access to ghostwriters?”

  “Of course I do.” Meredith handed Helen a cup of coffee and returned to the refrigerator for cream. She grabbed the sugar bowl from the cupboard and placed the white ceramic set on the table. “I work with ghostwriters all the time. It helps if they have access to the author, of course, while the project is in its beginning stages.”

  “We could work something out,” Helen said. “I want the best writer.”

  “Of course,” Meredith said, sipping her coffee. “Can you tell me a little more about the stories? What age group are you targeting? What’s the length of each book? Is it written in third person or first person?”

  Helen and Jake looked at each other and then returned twin blank stares at her.

  Meredith dropped her gaze into her cup of cream-infused coffee. They have no clue. This is going to be so much work! Looking up and gathering her courage, Meredith started with the first question. After all, this was her area of expertise. She shouldn’t be intimidated by anyone, not Helen and certainly not the pragmatic Jacob Wilde.

  “What’s your target group? What age?”

  “I guess kids,” Jake said blankly.

  “Kids, meaning two-year-olds to five-year-olds? Five to seven? Eight to twelve? Twelve to sixteen?”

  “All ages, I think.” Jake took a sip of coffee. “This is good. What kind is it?”

  Meredith shrugged. “You’re in Seattle. All coffee in Seattle is great.”

  “Are you talking about the age group for the videos or the books?” Helen asked.

  “The books, of course,” Meredith said. “Picture a kid sprawled out on his bed reading one of these books. How old is that kid? Can he read it himself, or is his mom reading it to him?”

  “He can read it,” Jake said. “He’s about nine years old.”

  “Will his five-year-old sister like the story as much as he does, if he reads it to her?” Meri asked.

  “She might. His eleven-year-old sister would like it better.” Jake leaned back, and a calm grin eased across his tanned face. “Helen said you were good. Now I see why. I hadn’t even thought of this angle. We have to know our audience before the curtain goes up.”

  “Exactly,” Meredith said.

  “I’m offering six books minimum with a contract option for six more,” Helen said firmly.

  “I understand,” Meredith said. “But you’re on a close time frame with the videos going into production. You want these to be released with the videos, but they’re not written yet.”

  “They’re nearly written,” Helen corrected her.

  Meredith smiled. “You know exactly what we’re talking about timewise, Helen. It’s nine months minimum before we could get a job like this on the shelves.”

  “Nine months is good,” Jake said.

  Meredith held up her hand. “You realize everything I just said was hypothetical. We don’t even have a verbal agreement here. I’m only talking in generalities to let you know how the process works. I have to look over the proposal first. I’ll do that tomorrow and let Helen know what I think.”

  Jake looked startled. Was this man so unaccustomed to being told no? Did it surprise him that Meredith didn’t swoon at his feet and beg for the opportunity to publish his stories?

  What Jake probably didn’t know, but what Helen should have known by now, was that Meredith had earned the reputation of being good at what she did because she was cautious and used integrity in all her business deals. Helen should have known that Meri would treat a movie star’s book proposal with the same interest she used to consider the handwritten manuscript from the unknown grandma in Mississippi who had sent in the only story she had ever written. All manuscripts were judged on their quality and how well they fit into the marketing plan of G. H. Terrison Publishing.

  “I don’t suppose it would be of any value to talk advance money now, would it?” Helen said dryly.

  “Talk all you want. My hands are tied until I take the proposal to committee and the budget is set. Then we c
an talk. More coffee?”

  Meredith reached for the pot to fill their cups. A quietness hung over them. If Jake had managed to dash her hopes with his practical approach to love and commitment, she had just dashed his hopes of being published overnight. His earlier speech had nothing to do with the way she handled her end of this business conversation. This is what she did, and she wouldn’t turn soft for anyone. Not even a movie star.

  “Cheesecake is on the menu, if either of you has room,” Meredith said, returning to the kitchen and pulling the box labeled “Rondi’s” from the lower shelf. “Raspberry cheesecake.”

  “Sounds like a must,” Helen said. “Mind if we retire to the living room?”

  “Good idea,” Meredith said. “I know these chairs aren’t the most comfortable.”

  Helen headed for the couch with her coffee cup in hand. “Is this real?” Helen asked, nodding to Elvis in his bowl.

  “Of course he’s real. Don’t you remember when I introduced you two on the phone? That’s Elvis.”

  “Hello, Elvis,” Helen said, cocking her head to the side and gazing into the bowl. Then she called back over her shoulder, “Honestly, Meri, I don’t know why you don’t get a little poodle like normal people.”

  “She doesn’t like dogs,” Jake stated. Before Meredith could stick her head back into the living room and acknowledge that he remembered something personal about her, Jake asked, “Mind if we put on a little music?”

  “Go ahead. The CD player’s remote is on the coffee table,” Meri said. She lifted the cheesecake out of the box. For one fleeting moment she wished she had some silly old numbered candles to stick on the top.

  An instant later, the first CD began to play. It was The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi. Meri turned her head to see Jake’s reaction. She hadn’t planned this; it was just the next CD in line.

  Jake was sitting in the easy chair where Fred had been. He turned toward the kitchen and looked at Meredith, a glimmer of pleasant surprise on his face. She knew she couldn’t say anything about knowing he liked Vivaldi or his falling asleep on his only date with her sister. Men who don’t believe in love but who choose to make a commitment shouldn’t care about such things as common tastes in music, should they? And they also shouldn’t remember whether or not a woman likes dogs, unless they’re interested in that woman.