Author: E.C. Jackson
Publisher: Independent
Publication Date: September 28, 2020
Pages: 338
Genre: Inspirational Romance
Is there hope for this love between friends?
Pamela Hayes is a smart, successful business owner with a supportive family and a thriving bakery. She should be the happiest girl in the world. But she can’t shake the melancholy that accompanies every conversation she has with her best friend, Mark. Pamela doesn’t know how much longer she can hide her true feelings.
Why can’t Mark see how perfect they would be together? She would make a much better girlfriend than the one he currently has. Pamela prays he’ll come to his senses soon and realize he’s with the wrong girl. But when her dream comes true, it isn’t the fantasy she had envisioned.
There is trouble in paradise from the start, and all the red flags she’s been ignoring are starting to threaten her confidence…and her relationship with Mark. She’ll have to rely on family and her faith in God to help her secure the hope she so desperately needs.
Buy Link
First Chapter
Motes reflected in the sunlight that beamed through an eastern bedroom window. Background noise filtered past closed doors. Turning over in bed onto her stomach, Pamela Hayes yanked a beige satin comforter off the floor with one hand. That same hand then tossed a navy-blue neck pillow upon the bed. Footsteps on the other side of the door grabbed her attention.
Mom’s on her Saturday-morning prowl. Five, four, three, two, one …
Anna Hayes’s head poked inside her daughter’s bedroom. Hallway lighting bathed her trim figure in artificial brightness. “Morning, babe. Touching base before I go.” Her warm gaze surveyed the tousled bed. “From the tangled cover, it looks like you had a rough night.”
With a hand covering her yawn, Pamela shook her head and turned onto her side. “Just my normal Friday night tug-of-war. It’s my preferred method of winding down.”
Anna’s soft laugh sounded like music. “Any special plans today?”
Leaning on her elbow, Pamela rested her face on spread fingers as she gazed at her mother. Forty-eight-year-old Anna wore desert-green ankle boots, cropped white pants, and an oversized olive-green sweater. A brown suede bag hung over her shoulder.
“You look like a dream, Mom. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think you were going out with someone special.”
Laughter flitted through slightly parted lips. “I’m late. Give me a quick rundown on your activities for today.”
Oh boy. I had hoped she wouldn’t ask. Better mention my afternoon expedition last.
“Shopping for a spring wardrobe around noon. My jeans are tatty. And then, shooting the rapids.”
The door opened wider as Anna grasped the doorknob. “Water rafting somewhere near South Town?”
“Oklahoma City. The spring season begins today. It’s safe, Mom. Stop frowning.”
“I’m sure they take safety precautions. But promise to be extra careful. I can do without mental pictures of my twenty-five-year-old daughter drowning.”
Pamela flopped onto her back. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you. I love surrender whenever I hear it.” Anna checked her watch. “I’ll be out late. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”
After those parting words, her mother floated out of the house. Her all-day Saturday excursions had begun late last year. A seeming whim had developed into a lengthy pattern.
After the front door lock clicked, a sleepy Pamela hid her head beneath the sheets and immediately fell back to sleep.
###
Fully dressed, Pamela sat at the kitchen table picking single oats out of her favorite cereal bowl. She had eaten breakfast from the same dish since high school.
She snapped the milk carton closed. As she stuffed a heaping spoonful of cereal into her mouth, the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows arched. Who visited people unannounced at nine thirty-six on a Saturday morning? Her brother Skylar and his wife Melinda used their key when they visited. Was Anna expecting a package she hadn’t mentioned to Pamela?
As Pamela reached the front door, she put one eye up to the peephole. “Ack. Ack. Ack. Ahem.” She patted her chest, swallowing the stuck food. Mark Simon, wearing a hoodie and with his hands stuffed inside jean pockets, faced away from the door. He glanced at his car, then at his shoes. When a tremor shook his body, he perused the cloudless sky until concentrating on his feet again.
Pamela knew Mark seldom visited anybody’s house, especially on weekends. He saved his free time for an abominable woman. But today, something had gotten the Saturday late-sleeper out of bed before noon—and over to her house. Pamela bet it wasn’t because of a sudden, unshakeable desire to visit his friend.
She blew air through pursed lips and wrapped her arms around her body.
Here we go. Lights. Camera. Action.
She unlocked and opened the door, leaning on the doorframe. “Welcome. I’m surprised to see you. Glad you stopped by.”
“Is your mother home? We can grab breakfast out if she is.” Hooded eyelids hid his pupils.
From his demeanor, Pamela knew this wasn’t a “let me cool off a moment” visit. Mark required sympathetic ears.
Pamela could tell her lazy morning was quickly going to morph into a difficult afternoon—and possibly an unsettled evening. Golden toasted oats soaked in her milk-filled bowl. Her visions of shopping for a new spring wardrobe evaporated. Water rafting waved goodbye.
Mark rang Pamela’s doorbell whenever his life turned upside down. On those days, he remembered his go-to sounding board. Eleven years of friendship. Might as well invite her pal indoors and forget about her heartbreak when he says how much he loves Jessica.
“You missed Mom by two hours. Lately she spends Saturdays with friends.”
Mark glanced everywhere except at her face.
She hadn’t seen him anguished before. Angry, numerous times; distraught, not once.
“Ooh, casual clothes. You haven’t worn a hoodie and sneakers since college.” She stole another look. Gucci sneakers.
Hands stuffed inside his pockets, Mark shrugged. “We only see each other on our afternoon lunch dates during the week. Then, I’m always in business attire.” Head held back, his vacant gaze touched her heart. Tears pooled in the corners of each of Mark’s eyes.
Pamela couldn’t stay detached when friends cried for help. She could tell that Jessica Hubbard had either cheated on Mark or said goodbye. The writing had been on the wall three years earlier, on the day the couple met. Yet just this past Thursday, Mark had told Pamela he’d purchased an engagement ring for Jessica. Did Jessica reject Mark’s marriage proposal? If she had, he should consider himself lucky to have avoided a disastrous marriage.
She waved him in with a finger. “Come in. Stay awhile.” She thought about her now-soggy cereal. “Eat breakfast with me. I was eating when the doorbell rang.”
When he stepped inside, she locked the door and headed down the hall. They had small talk as they made their way to the kitchen.
He trailed her steps into the room, frowning at the oversized bowl. “Your bowl looks overloaded. Your cereal almost spilled on the table.”
“Join me for breakfast,” Pamela said, searching for ways to lift Mark’s spirit.
The silent man still looked everywhere except at her. Shoulders drooping, his shiny gaze finally captured hers.
From his obvious distress, Pamela realized the romance had ended. Jessica must have done the dumping.
Oh, Mark. I’m sorry she called it off instead of you.
“Want anything to eat?” she asked as he turned away.
“No, thanks.” Leaning on the counter, he pointed at her bowl. “Still habit-driven. You’re eating the same things for breakfast from the same bowl and wearing your hair in a ponytail like you did in your teens.” Mark grinned when she glanced at him. “That’s not criticism. Just an honest observation. Please, eat.”
“Mom sets our clocks by my actions.” She glanced at the milk carton, cereal box, and honey. Tidy, tidy. Everything must occupy a designated place.
Pamela returned the milk carton to the refrigerator and the cereal box and honey to the pantry.
“Grab a seat while I finish eating.”
She scooped up a spoonful of mushy cereal. The texture was awful. Her body shuddered as she stared at the spoon.
“I’m unfit company this morning,” Mark said with a sigh. “My loyal friend deserves better.”
Pamela could tell Mark would stay until her mother arrived home. She plopped her full spoon into the bowl. A distraught Mark was interrupting her plans once again.
She shoved the milk-logged mess aside.
“I’m here when you need me,” she said. “What happened?”
He slumped on the stool. “Only if you continue eating. I interrupted your breakfast.”
“Hold on while I fix myself a fresh bowl. Take a seat at the table. I’ll be right back.”
Pamela felt his gaze follow her movements until she joined him at the table.
“I’ll get to the crux of the problem.” Head lowered, he poured his heart out while she ate.
Leaning back into the chair, he fished a ring from his pocket. Last week, Mark had shown Pamela a picture of an engagement ring over lunch as he talked about planning to propose to Jessica. The 18-karat, rose gold morganite ring with pavé diamonds had mesmerized Pamela. How much money had he wasted on this unaccepted bribe to marry him?
Tears welled in his eyes. He kissed the stone then slid the ring across the table.
“Do with this bauble whatever you please,” he said. “Last night the ungrateful cheater dismissed me and my gift. She’s getting married next month.”
“No, thank you. Disposing of the ring is your call.” The stone glistened as she placed the ring into his palm and closed his hand. “Sell it in your father’s pawn shop.”
Mark should have been thanking God for liberation. He had allowed Jessica to use him. He should have seen this coming when the couple first met. Jessica had exposed her uncaring, contemptible, and unapologetic nature three years ago. How could he be shocked now?
At any rate, he should be happy his prison guard had set him free.
Mark had fallen in love with a narcissist instead of with his trusted friend. Choking back tears, Pamela reached across the table. She grasped Mark’s hand and squeezed tight.
About the Author
Jackson’s favorite pastime is reading fiction. She enjoys taking the journey along with the characters in the books. That also led to her unorthodox approach to story writing. Her vision for each book she writes is to immerse readers into the storyline so they become connected with each character.
“The Write Way: A Real Slice of Life” is the slogan on her Facebook author page. She feels that if every person reading her books feels connected to the characters, her job is done.
Author Links
Thank you for spotlighting The Confident Hope's first chapter.
ReplyDelete