Her gaze jumped up to him. “But only if, you know, you want to. I mean, it was just a thought. You don’t have to. I just thought maybe you could write, and I could study.” She shook her head. “Never mind. It was a dumb idea. We can do something else. Unless...” Fear twined through her gaze when it came up to his. “You have something else you need to do tomorrow. I mean, I’m not trying to push you into spending it with me or anything.”
Amusement curled through the remnants of his fear and pride. “Now, what else would I want to be doing?” He reached over and took both of her hands so her fingers dangled over his. Oh, what that simple touch did to his heart and soul. Bending forward, he kissed the top one and then smiled up at her. “You got any other dumb ideas I might like?”
She smiled and then blushed. It made her even cuter than normal. “Maybe one or two.”
Jake stood in her entryway two hours later, knowing he should leave but not wanting to. “So, what time tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Eight or nine? Or is that too early? We could do ten or even eleven if that would be better.”
He smiled at her skittishness. “Eight sounds great.”
Liz nodded though she didn’t really look up at him. “I’ll be sure to tell my alarm clock this time.”
Carefully, gently, he brushed the hair from her shoulder. “I don’t know. I kind of liked the unkempt right-out-of-bed look.”
Her face scrunched in a wince. “You can’t be serious. I can’t believe you didn’t run screaming for the exits.”
However, he was now caught firmly in the pull of her soul on his. “Never.” With that, he leaned toward her, his hand brushing the side of her neck and twining up into her hair. It was beyond description what her kiss did to him. For whole swatches of time he was simply lost in it, not even trying to find his way out. The center of him settled peacefully, knowing he had finally found a home where it was safe to be himself. He loved that feeling almost as much as he loved her.
When the kiss broke, he gazed down into her eyes, loving how she was looking at him. “Thanks for today.”
She smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Then he bent once more, knowing he should be going but never wanting to again. This time he pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him. It was only when he felt her stiffen slightly that his brain caught up with where his body was going and jerked him back. They had come too far to mess it up now. He carefully let her go, making sure she was steady before he did so. “You’ll be all right?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He reached for the doorknob, praying she would call him back. The door opened as if on its own power. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
Gazing at him, she nodded and almost smiled. “I’ll see you then.”
He shouldn’t, but his heart wasn’t getting the message. Quickly he bent and brushed her cheek with his lips, and then knowing if he stayed even one second longer, he would overstay his welcome, he broke away and headed for the outside. When he turned to glance back, she was still standing there, watching him go. Walking away was the hardest thing he had ever done.
Liz closed the door with a soft thump and locked it without seeing the bolts and chains. When she was alone, she leaned against the door as quiet tears etched down her cheeks. He was so wonderful, so solid and kind. What had she ever done to deserve him?
She knew what she had done to not deserve him, and that painful thought jabbed into her. The whole day had been so perfect, and what had she done at the end— pushed him away without even meaning to? It wasn’t her fault her body reacted the way it did. It was scared. She was scared. Maybe more scared than she had ever realized she would be. When he was just Jake— a kind friend who happened to come around once in a while, she had convinced herself that she could do this, that she could handle it, that he would never have to find out.
But today she had willingly agreed, no, even asked him to take it to the next level. However, now that she was here, she realized how dangerous doing that felt to her heart. The bruises and cuts in her spirit were still there. She hadn’t noticed them in a long while, hadn’t taken account of them in so long she had convinced herself maybe they had healed. They hadn’t. And now, somehow she was in the relationship she had wanted for so long with no way to tell him and no will to hurt him.
She put her head in her hands as the tears increased in velocity and volume. “Oh, God, what am I going to do? Please help me not to hurt him. Please.”
True to his word, Jake was on her doorstep, computer in hand, at eight the next morning. His heart reached up and rapped his knuckles on the door for him. Only one, small thread of him was nervous. The rest of him was just excited.
He heard the locks, and his heart surged. In a blink, the door was open, and like sunshine itself, she stood there looking better than a home-baked pie just out of the oven. “Morning.”
Her soft smile lit his heart. “Morning.”
The kiss was a quick peck, but that didn’t bother him. There was something natural about it, something that said they were comfortable together. “You look wide awake.” He followed her into the apartment where the smells of breakfast wafted out.
“Yeah, an alarm clock can do wonders.” She disappeared into the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I wasn’t until I smelled that.”
“Well, it’s a good thing. I think I got enough for five people here.”
“Long as you got coffee, we’re good.”
“Of course I got coffee. Duh.” She glanced back at him standing in the doorway. “Oh, you can put your laptop in the dining room if you want. I’ll bring this out in a minute.”
Jake nodded and had to beat back the nerves to go in and lay his computer down. It looked so very vulnerable sitting there. He scoped out the room around him, sensing where the walls were that would hide what he didn’t want her to see. Yes. After breakfast, he would take her spot at the table. That tiny area was banked by two walls. It would be impossible for her to casually catch a glance at his screen. But what if she didn’t catch a casual glance? What if...?
“Breakfast is ready.”
During breakfast, Jake seemed quieter than usual, and he was usually pretty quiet. Liz noticed but didn’t have the heart to ask. The why of it might lead back to the night before, and she didn’t want to chance that. So she mostly ate her breakfast slowly, trying not to watch him but watching him just the same.
“These eggs are really good,” he said without exactly looking up.
“I used some of that seasoning we got for the turkey. I didn’t want it to go to waste.”
“Mmm.” But that was all he said.
“So have you heard any more from Jasmine?” Liz bit into her own eggs thinking it was a little odd to be asking as if Jasmine was a real, live person.
“Luckily she finally let me sleep.” He took a drink of orange juice. “I just hope she shows up today.”
“How many pages do you have written on this one anyway?”
“Well, that depends on which one you mean. I already had the one started. I have about 75 pages of it, but this one about the book is different. I’ve written about 20 pages on it.” He inhaled a long breath and then exhaled. “I feel kind of scattered with all of it, you know?” His fork scraped back and forth across the plate. “I don’t know which one to work on. It’s like having too much homework, you never know just where to start.”
“Ugh. I hear you there. This final paper I’ve got in psych class is due next week. I should’ve already had the thing written, but do you think I can get myself going on it?”
Surprise jumped to his face. “You’re a procrastinator?”
“A procrastinator? I can be the procrastinator if it’s something like this. Ugh. I just don’t see the point of psychology, you know? Most of it is just mumbo-jumbo.”
“But isn’t that where you found the dyslemia stuff?”
She laughed. It was nice to have someone around to
lift her spirits with jokes. “Dyslexia, and yes. I’ve thought about doing it on that, but it’s so big. I need an angle. Not the whole thing.”
Jake laid his fork to the side, cleared his throat, and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “How about what the struggle to read does to a kid’s ability to learn?” He took another drink of orange juice as her gaze went across the table to him.
“How do you mean?”
He set the glass down, looking only at it. “Well, let’s say you have this kid, and let’s say he’s in fourth grade. He’s way behind already. What does that do to him not just academically but socially? Is he still an outgoing kid, or does he give up not just on reading but on himself?”
There was something about the way he said it that glued her gaze to him. “It must be really hard,” she said softly, “to keep trying when you’re not getting it. To watch the other kids and wonder what’s wrong with you. I can’t imagine.” She shook her head slowly, liking the idea for the paper as she bent her head back to her breakfast. “I bet I could talk to Mrs. McLaughlin. She’d probably have some stats and stuff. The paper’s only three pages.”
“So have you gone back?”
“To the Literacy Center?”
“Yeah.” It was incredible how intimate his look was from all the way across that table. It was soft and warm and safe.
Liz shook her head slowly. “No. Not yet.”
The look never dropped. “What are you waiting for?”
She didn’t know, and yet she did. Life had a way for her of not working out— especially when she wanted something so badly. “To not be afraid?” she asked softly without looking at him.
He inhaled sharply and then reached across the table to take her hand. “I think it’s time to jump.”
Her smile drifted up from her heart, gaze down at their hands, she nodded. “I think so too.”
All day Liz worked on her paper on the couch, and Jake worked on the book at the table. They broke for lunch around one, ate quickly, laughed a lot over the grilled cheese sandwiches, and then got back to work. By seven her paper was all-but finished. The two books from the library had helped immensely. Now all she needed to do was swing by the Literacy Center on Monday, ask a few questions, add those in, and she was home free.
Shutting down her laptop, she pulled herself up from the floor by the coffee table. At the dining table he sat, his chin in his hand, reading. It was beyond belief that a guy like him was here with her, looking like that— both the gorgeous and the comfortable. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt. “How’s it coming?”
“Okay. Jasmine just located the house behind the hill.”
“Oh, really? Cool. Does she know who lives there yet?” Liz walked over to the table and started toward him, but before she could get there, he straightened and shut the lid of the computer.
“Not yet, but she still has the book, and she hasn’t been shot yet though it was a close call at the library.”
Stopping perpendicular to where he sat at the table, Liz leaned on a chair. “So what happened to Mr. Nguyen, the library guy?”
He shook his head one way. “Don’t know.”
“Will you ever know?”
The shrug was barely there. “Don’t know.”
A moment and she shook her head. “I don’t know how you do that.” With that, she pushed away from the chair and headed into the kitchen to dig up what was left of the turkey.
“Do what?” He stood, stretched, and then followed her.
“That would make me crazy not knowing. I don’t know how you start writing without knowing where it’s going.”
At the door, he leaned his shoulder against it, hands in his pockets as he watched her. “I don’t either, but what can I do? That’s the way the stories come to me.”
She glanced at him, rolled her eyes, and smiled. “It would drive me nuts.”
With a teasing glint in his eye, he smiled back. “Not a very far drive from what I can tell.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she spun on him. “You know for someone who’s about to be fed by me, you sure are brave over there.”
He smiled again as he pushed away from the frame. “Good point. What can I do to help?”
Three hours later it was time for him to go home, not that either of them wanted him to.
“So, tomorrow?” he asked, praying she didn’t have anything else to do. The past three days had been more wonderful than he could imagine three days could be.
Liz half-smiled as she looked up at him. “What are you going for the record or something?”
He wished he wasn’t holding the infernal laptop so he could take her in his arms. He considered putting it down but thought that would be too obvious. “I guess I like to live dangerously.”
A moment and she nodded. “Well, I’m going to church at seven...”
She never really finished the invitation, but he got the message.
“Then I’ll be there at seven.”
Jake sat next to her the following morning. Thankfully, this time he wasn’t late. The church was still fascinating to him. He wanted to ask someone about the statues, about the artwork— where it came from, who the artist was, when had they acquired it. It was like the stories of the whole world were opening up to him, and he had the distinct feeling it had everything to do with her. Reaching over when she sat down, he took her hand and smiled at her. Never had he been more grateful.
It was a good bit into the service when they read something he assumed was from the Bible though he’d never actually owned a Bible nor read one. The story was about a guy who had a son, and he was desperate to get the son cured. And then Jesus cured the kid. Jake glanced up at the statue of Jesus on the cross at the front. Something about the face of that man struck him. It was sad, tired, ready to give up. He understood that look though he had never been nailed to a cross.
“The faith of a mustard seed,” the preacher said when he closed the book and started just talking. “‘If you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Be thou removed and be cast into the sea’ and it will obey you.’ Do you hear those words? How many of us have mountains in our lives? Mountains. Problems. Obstacles. Hurdles. I’d be willing to bet all of us do. Whether it’s a sick child or a sick marriage, whether it’s what to do about your job or your schooling, whether it’s some type of addiction or someone you’re at odds with. Every one of us has a mountain standing in our way.
“You see, a mountain is anything that’s stopping us. It’s anything that we think is too big to handle on our own, and let me tell you, that can be a lot of things. For the disciples of Jesus it was this child, possessed by demons and brought by his father. The disciples tried to cast the demon out, but they couldn’t do it. Why not?
“Jesus says they didn’t have enough faith. Why do our mountains not move? Because we don’t have enough faith. How much faith do we need?” He gripped the sides of the podium and then looked across the sparse crowd. “Jesus tells us: We need faith the size of a mustard seed. And just how big is a mustard seed? Think about putting a dot on a piece of paper. That’s the size of a mustard seed, and that’s all the faith we have to have to move our mountains.
“But how can that be, you ask. I’ve prayed. I’ve stood on the Promises of the Bible, and my mountain still hasn’t moved. Ah, but faith is not just prayer, it is not just affirming that God is. It is trusting God enough to give the problem to Him. Faith is calling out to God in our weakness and saying, ‘Lord, I can’t do this! It’s too big for me. I need Your help.’
“That’s faith. That’s giving yourself and your situation over to the One Who can move mountains. You see, most of us when we’re confronted with a mountain, we get out the shovels and start digging. We get out our pick axes and go to work trying to move the mountain ourselves. Or we make maps and plans and agendas to get around the mountain. Basically, we do, do, do, do until we can’t do-do anymore.”
People in the congregation laughed.
“But all that doing, all that trying to effort ourselves through a situation is not what Jesus is calling us to do. He’s calling us to recognize at a fundamental level that we can’t do it. He’s calling us to see that only by falling on the Grace of God, on the Mercy of God, on the Strength of God can we ever hope to move that mountain that’s standing in our way. But! And Jesus said it, ‘If you have that much faith, you can say to this mountain, ‘Be thou removed... Get out of my life! Move out of my path, O, mountain. And God will resolve that situation with His Power in His time. So have the faith to put whatever your mountain is in His hands and watch Him go to work, and you will see miracles happen.”
Jake contemplated the pastor’s words. He had never heard anything like them before. The weak part he got. It was how he had always felt. He well remembered in school, freaking out at every new assignment, knowing he couldn’t do it, and praying it would go away. But could this be the answer? Could the answer to the mountain of his own stupidity be putting it into God’s hands? He thought about the shovel and the pick-axe and nearly laughed out loud. He had certainly tried it that way, and it hadn’t worked. As his gaze came up to the church arching above him, he thought through everything and then glanced at her. Winding his hands up under his arms, he considered it all. He didn’t know how to make things work with her any more than he knew how to get all the squiggly red lines off his laptop. Yes, the truth was he needed help— desperately. Maybe more desperately than even he had realized.
Putting his head down, he let his hands fall to the pew ahead of him, and he gripped it, holding on lest he collapse to the ground by the sheer weight of the mountain he was trying to move. The truth was, he’d tried everything else. He was ready to try something new. “God,” he whispered so softly it might have only been in his heart, “I’m so lost here. You’ve given me these amazing things— the stories and Liz, but God, I don’t know what I’m doing with either one. I need Your help. The guy said all I had to have was the faith of a mustard seed. Well, that’s about all I’ve got right now— one, little, tiny spec, but I’m going to use it right now to say, ‘Help!’ I need help, Lord. I do. I need help to move this mountain. I can’t do it alone. I’ve tried. I’m so tired of feeling like this, Lord. I’m so tired of feeling like it’s all so hopeless, like I can’t do it.”
More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel Page 25