Working with Emma and Sophie, teasing Emma about first date jitters, surprise at Sophie’s adult-like graciousness when meeting Rafe Jernigan. That he had known her father seemed to raise her first impression of him dramatically.
And then Rance came, and she was confused. “Lord, what am I supposed to do?”
The thought had occurred to her there might be no point in asking God for advice in this one. She was on her own, like she had been so many times before. What if God didn’t care one way or another?
Or He did care, and she didn’t.
What was the cliché poking her brain? “God didn’t move, you did.”
It was true. Everything she knew about God told her He was the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Was she?
No. Not even a little bit. Human nature means a lot of things go into how we are from day to day. Good days and bad days. Days when you feel good all day because the sun was shining, and days when it rains, your hair frizzes, and you have a sinus headache that won’t go away.
Days when God feels near, like when a set of healthy twins are born four weeks early, and days when God feels far away because you’ve lost your father and your mother is going blind. Those were the angry days.
“I didn’t deserve this, God. Mom didn’t deserve this. What did we ever do to have You pull the rug out from under us that way?” She felt tears of hurt and anger begin to gather and brushed them away in irritation. She finally hit her steering wheel and shouted there in the privacy of her car. “Do You even love us?”
She let the tears fall until she arrived at the street to her house. She tried to mop up and drive at the same time, blowing her nose at the stop signs. “I want to believe again, God. I really do. I want to feel You inside me the way I used to. I want to rest in You, like You said to do. Your yoke is easy? It’s felt hard. Really hard.”
Then the song came to her again. This time there was no radio, no church service, just her and God.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
Dangers: sickness, bereavement, sorrow. Toils: those times that are hard, like losing your dad, or taking care of a blind mom, or worrying about things you have no control over. Snares. The tough one. A snare is a trap. Sin is a trap. Self is a trap.
The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my Shield and Portion be
As long as life endures.
“God, when did I get so caught up in myself and things only You can take care of, that I forgot You are in charge?”
How tangled up was his life supposed to be anyway? He had a perfectly normal life, successful internship, a great career looming ahead of him, a great girl, and then?
Boom.
A lie, pain, loss, gain, and heartache. Then he thought about all the people who had come into his life in the last few weeks and months.
He found out he had a brother. He met Charly. He learned about God. And the kicker? It all started because of two precious infants delivered by a doctor wearing muddy garden shoes who prayed.
Rance sat on the front porch waiting for Charly. Lydia had come in earlier, and after a brief, awkward conversation in which she invited him in to wait, he decided to wait for her out here in the darkness. He belonged there anyway. If what Tom said was true, God loved him. But until he made things right with Charly, he wouldn’t rest easy.
God was too big for him to handle right now. Even if the gift was free, he didn’t feel worthy of taking it, no matter how easy Tom or his brother said it was. Life couldn’t be that simple.
He stood up, hands stuffed into his pockets, as he walked around, pacing up and down the sidewalk.
Life was meant to be hard. It wasn’t some big “Kum-ba-ya” where you loved everybody, and everybody loved you, with a great big wonderful God standing over you, taking care of things before they hurt you. Uh-uh.
When he met Charly, life was going pretty well. Since they met, it was like his life was falling apart, one piece at a time. Even with things going well on the job front, his personal life was in shambles.
He should focus on his work, to the exclusion of everything else. But then, apparently exclusively focusing on work was what his real dad did and look where it got him.
He raked his hand through his hair, wondering how many times he could do this without starting to lose his hair, which made him chuckle without humor. That would be about right. Not only lose his family and his girl, but his hair as well.
He stood straight when he saw headlights headed to the drive, Charly behind the wheel.
Was it over? He wasn’t sure, at this point, whether he had it in him to continue the relationship. Was it a relationship? Was she that important to him?
As she got out of the car, he saw the tears in her eyes and the pain on her face. Yes, she was, but was he important to her?
“Why, Lord, does he have to be such a gentleman?” When Charly switched off the car, she momentarily squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears start up again when Rance walked over to open her car door for her. She squelched them. Now wasn’t the time. Maybe later when it was over.
She gave him a timid smile as she grabbed her purse and bouquet and stood up next to him. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. You okay?”
The tension on his face and in his voice was palpable. His brilliant blue eyes, visible in the dusky twilight, grabbed her and held on.
“I’m okay. I’m a little tired.” She grinned and held up the bouquet. “Big day.”
His lips lifted in a grin. “Looks like it.” He looked down at his toes and then back up at her. “Want to take a walk?”
She nodded. “Let me take this stuff inside and put on something else.”
“I’ll wait on the patio.”
Charly watched as he walked around the side of the house to the patio facing the beach. The spring in his step that was usually there, wasn’t.
She went in the front door and straight to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. Whether catching the bouquet meant anything or not, she wasn’t one to waste beautiful, fragile peonies in high summer.
“Hey, girl, where’s Rance?” Lydia wandered into the kitchen from her bedroom. “And you caught the bouquet?” She started to squeal then saw the look on Charly’s face. “Uh-oh.”
Charly waved her off. “He’s on the patio. Yes, I caught the bouquet, not that it means anything.”
“It might. Stranger things have happened.”
“Yeah, well, after tonight it might be more far-fetched than ever.”
“Have you prayed?”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve prayed more this summer since I met Rance than I have in years.”
“Hmmm. Sounds like you had some catching up to do.”
“You think?” Charly’s voice dripped with sarcasm, then she stopped. “I’m sorry. I’ve been irritated with God too long, and I’m realizing He wasn’t the one that left, I was.”
Lydia sat on the stool, chin in hand. “What do you think He’s telling you to do?”
She lifted her hands in frustration. “That’s the thing. I don’t have any idea. I’m to the point I don’t know what’s God and what’s me.” She shook her head. “I need to change. We’re going for a walk. Maybe a good ocean breeze will clear our heads.”
“Or not. Be careful, friend. The wind and waves can sway you.”
“It can also calm you. When I look at the ocean, it’s like I’m finding out all over again how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things.”
“Except when it comes to God. You are precious in His sight. Don’t forget.”
Charly leaned over and hugged her friend as she walked by. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Rance took off his jacket and laid it across a chair, then loosened his tie and collar. He sat, staring out at the water as the shadows crept up and d
arkness began to overtake the shore. The ocean was vast, and deep, but the darkness threatened to be deeper as he sat there, feeling icy fingers clutching at his heart.
“Still want to walk?” Charly had come up behind him without him noticing.
“Yeah. I didn’t hear you for the surf.”
“You were deep in thought.”
He took her hand and led her off the patio and into the sand. “It’s been a rough week.”
“In what way?”
He noticed when she tucked her head to avoid looking directly at him.
When they got to the edge of the water, he stopped, and she had to look at him. “Charly, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?” She looked confused, troubled, and in a strange way, knowing.
“It’s all too much.”
She looked out at the water, catching a stray lock of hair whipping across her face. “I’m not sure what ‘all’ includes, but I think I agree.”
“You do?”
“Rance, I think––”
“Charly, I’m sorry. When I realized what I had done when I called you, I was sick. I never wanted you to see that side of me.”
She turned toward him with a sad smile. “I know. And I forgive you.” She shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.”
He had said those exact words to his mother, and the fact that Charly could forgive him, but he hadn’t forgiven his mother hurt. “Charly, maybe we need to cool whatever this is between us.” He closed his eyes to shut out the hurt in her eyes.
She put her hand on his arm, and he opened them. “I know.” Tears stood poised to drop from her lashes, and it was making him crazy.
“You know?”
She nodded. “I need time. You need time. You’re starting a new job who-knows-where, and I’m here. Your family is here, but you’ve got to figure that out too.”
He put his hands on her cheeks and looked deep into her hazel eyes. “I’m afraid to lose you.”
“Why?” She gazed at him, tears still simmering, a sad little smile on her face. He could kiss her right now, and they could go back to where they were. But could they? Could he?
“Because you’re the best thing in my life right now.”
“Which is why we need to be sure.”
He shook his head and pulled her to him in a hug, so she couldn’t see the emotions on his face. “The voice of reason. I’ve never had anyone like you in my life before.”
Her voice was muffled as she hid her face in his shoulder. “If I’m the voice of reason, then bless your heart.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rance sat next to his father’s bedside, staring at the man who had been kept from him his entire life. He figured this was what he would look like at this age. The same hairline, the same smile, jaw line. He shook his head. It was uncanny. Their voices were even similar. Fortunately he hadn’t given in to the temptation to smoke at a young age, so his growl was less gravelly than Clifton’s.
As he watched him sleep, he raised his lips in a half-smile. He wanted to know this man. He wanted to know what made him tick. Did nature or nurture make him want to try new things, live on the edge?
His eyes fluttered open. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” He leaned forward in his chair, putting his face on a level with his father’s.
“I hear they found a match.”
“They did.” Rance couldn’t pull his eyes away from his father’s, so like his own when he looked in the mirror.
“Don’t do it.” The smile on Clifton’s face turned into a grave line of concern.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t go through with the surgery. I’ve had my chance, now it’s your turn.”
Rance looked down at his hands clasped in front of him. He shook his head. “I’ve got to.”
“No, you don’t.” Clifton raised the hospital bed so he could sit up straighter. “Son, you don’t have to prove anything to me. None of this is your fault.”
“You’ve been kept from me all my life. I want to get to know my father and my brother.” He gazed into his father’s eyes. “If I don’t do this, you’ll die.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“So is driving down the road or jumping out of an airplane, but I’ve done that too.”
Clifton closed his eyes. Fatigue dogged him, Rance knew. He also knew if he didn’t have the surgery soon, he would be too weak to survive the surgery, much less the recovery and the acceptance of the grafted kidney.
When he opened his eyes, he stared at the ceiling. “I jumped out of an airplane once.” He smiled widely. “Biggest rush I ever had.”
Rance reached for his dad’s hand. “I’d like to jump out of an airplane with you someday.”
Clifton looked over at him with a sigh. “I’d love to.”
“You, me, Sam. He’s getting out in about six weeks.”
“He called a couple of days ago, said you’d talked.” Clifton’s brows drew together.
“What’s wrong?”
“I know he’s gotten his life back together in prison. I hope he can maintain it when he’s out.”
“Me too.” Would Sam’s faith carry him when he had all the freedom in the world? Or would he slip back into his old ways when it was available?
“God is good. All the time.”
Rance didn’t quite know what to say. “That’s what I hear.”
“That’s what I know.” His father gave him a straight look. “And I want you to know it too.”
Emma watched Charly interacting with their current bride, Kristi Brown, as she and her mother walked the property at Pilot Oaks. With Lucy tied up with twins, Charly’s help for the summer had been a life saver.
Who knows? Someday maybe Emma would need help during a maternity leave. She stopped short. Where had that come from? She was forty years old, the mother of a teenager, and a businesswoman. She was also a woman who was looking forward to whatever God had next for her.
She smiled and caught up to the trio as they approached the swing overlooking the marsh.
“This is my favorite spot.”
Kristi smiled. “I can see why. It’s beautiful. Do you think we could have a few pictures taken here?”
Emma nodded. “We’ll plan on it. I’ll make a note to decorate it a little bit when we’re decorating for the wedding.” She wrote it down and noticed Charly did the same. Between the two of them, they would get this done.
The bride hugged herself and sighed. “It’s going to be beautiful, and I’m convinced the weather is going to cooperate.”
“We’ll start praying for good weather now.” Emma loved to see the glow a new bride carried with her. Even the “bridezilla” types, deep-down, had a glow of happiness and excitement. She missed that in her life. Could that be why she decided to continue with weddings after Daniel died? She wanted to experience happiness through other people.
And God had blessed her. She was successful in her field and did weddings from Myrtle Beach to Charleston. Someday, Sophie might join her in her business.
Her phone buzzed with a text. They were wrapping up this session, so she would check it later. She should see who it was.
It was Rafe. She closed the window and smiled as she put her phone in her pocket. “Ladies, do you have any other questions?
Mrs. Brown looked at her daughter then back at Emma. “I think you’ve covered everything. Of course we’ll think of questions after we leave.” She chuckled nervously.
“If you do, call me. That’s my job, and it’s what you’re paying me to do: plan, arrange, and keep you posted. My goal is to help you enjoy one of the most special days of your life.”
“Thank you so much. You’ve been a God-send.” Kristi was smiling through a mist of tears.
Emma hugged her. “You couldn’t have said anything to make me happier.”
“How do I look?” Lydia twirled in front of the full-length mirror in the tiny hallway of the beach house, her purple sun dress and platfor
m booties stylish and flattering on her petite form.
“Perfect. And your dress matches your hair.” Charly giggled and then twisted her lips, trying not to laugh. “You do realize Jake is coming over to study, with me, for our final exam?”
“You never know, if I’m highly visible, he might get up the nerve to ask me out.” She flitted around the living room and kitchen. “I’ll be around, making cookies, mixing up sweet tea, cleaning the oven. You know, good-wife-material stuff.”
Charly raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think you have to go as far as cleaning the oven. It’s self-cleaning.”
“True. Maybe I could demonstrate using the self-cleaning feature.”
She shook her head furiously. “Please, no. The oven gets up to 900 degrees on self-clean, and stinks to high heaven. It would run us all out of the house.”
Lydia’s face fell. “Oh. Okay, I’ll be quiet but ever present.”
“Don’t be a distraction. We need this class.”
She splayed her well-manicured fingers on her chest and batted her eyes. “Who? Little ol’ me? A distraction?”
“Yes, you.” She looked out the sidelight of the door to see Jake’s car pull up. “He’s here, so you behave.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best. Don’t mind the galley wench.” Lydia winked and backed into the kitchen.
Charly was shaking her head when she opened the door. In surprise, she blurted, “Flowers?”
Jake turned three shades of red. “Uh, they’re for Lydia.”
“Oh? Is there something I should know?” She looked at the flowers, then at Jake, and with her hands on her hips, simply snorted.
“What?”
“You’ve been texting, haven’t you?”
His face relaxed in a smile. “Yeah. I like her, Charly.”
“She’s in the kitchen. Make yourself at home.” She held her hand out, guiding him in the right direction as she closed the front door. At least somebody in her life was having fun.
Rafe was torn. He didn’t want to be pushy, but he wanted to see Emmaline Quince again. It had been a few weeks since their date, and he had almost called her several times.
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