He missed his mom, or mum, as he called her. I could tell by his tone when he spoke of her. He sat at the bar and talked to me while I cleaned up and loaded the dishwasher before grabbing our coffee and heading for the den. We sat on the sofa in front of the fire. Even though it was early June, the evening was chilly, and I thought the fire would create a romantic mood. I was right.
He took my hand gently in his. “So, Lily, last night I did most of the talking. Now I’d like to hear all about you.”
“Oh, okay. Where to begin? Well, my mom, Elaine, was raised in this house. She was the youngest of six children. She married my dad when she was in her twenties. He was in shipping and traveled a lot, so she went with him. After many miscarriages, four I think, they realized they probably weren’t going to have children, so they settled down in Italy. They lived there for almost ten years.
“One day they received news that my grandmother had passed away, so they came home for the funeral. My grandfather had died five years prior, so unless someone wanted the house, they were going to sell it. None of the others wanted it because their lives were elsewhere. My mom couldn’t bear to see the house go, so she convinced my father to stay. They moved right in, and soon after, she became pregnant with me. She was in her forties, forty-six, I think.
“I had a great childhood. My parents made sure I was well rounded. We went to church. I took dance classes, horseback riding, and helped my mother in the garden. We also took lots of trips together.
“Then, when I was in third grade, Meagan moved here, and we quickly became the best of friends. Her family was a little chaotic, to say the least. Her parents fought frequently, so she spent a lot of time with us. She loved my parents like they were her own. She’s more of a sister to me than a friend.
“I didn’t date much. Rumors spread that I wouldn’t sleep around, but that didn’t bother me. I’ve never really cared much about what people thought of me. I did have a boyfriend in college though, one of the most popular boys on campus. I wasn’t really interested in him at first, but he was very persistent, and I admired that quality in him. We dated for a few months, but then he slowly started pressuring me about sex and pushing his limits, sometimes even getting angry. One night when we were out together, he slipped something in my soda and I got sick. Well, I don’t know for sure if it was him, but my roommate became suspicious when he showed up at my room later that night. He hadn’t expected her to be there, and she said he was acting strange. Despite the fact that I couldn’t be sure, I refused to date someone I didn’t trust, so the next day I broke up with him.
“After my first year of college, I began feeling like I was headed in the wrong direction, so I came home one weekend and counseled with my parents. By the end of the weekend, I had changed direction. Psychology was out and wedding planning became the plan for my future.”
I continued to tell my story of working at Russ’s, building my business, my father’s death, my mother’s sickness, and the last of my nonexistent love life, until there was nothing left to tell.
“So,” he said after a brief pause, “you really don’t care what people think about you?”
“No, not really. I guess I’ve always felt confident in who I am. I’ve never really needed anyone’s approval. Not in the big things anyway. I hope that doesn’t sound arrogant. I don’t mean it that way.”
“No, it doesn’t. I admire that quality in you. I wish I were more like you in that sense.” I couldn’t understand why, but he sounded a little sad when he said that.
“Lucas, look at me.” I gently lifted his face until his eyes met mine. “Confidence isn’t something you’re born with. It’s something you gain over time by surrounding yourself with positive, encouraging people, and making good choices, such as avoiding reading the tabloids,” I teased, lightening the mood.
He chuckled, such a sweet sound. It warmed my heart, and I found myself leaning over and kissing his cheek. When I pulled away, he put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me closer, gently touching his lips to mine. He put his arms around me, pulling me against him. Our lips moved in harmony and our breathing escalated. A moan involuntarily escaped my lips, and he quickly, but gently, pulled away.
“We should probably stop,” he said breathlessly.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Um, Lucas, before this goes any further there’s something I should tell you.”
He looked slightly alarmed. “Yes?”
“I’m—” I paused, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden, though I’m not sure why. I guess secretly I was hoping he wouldn’t reject me, although I’ve never cared what people thought before, but somehow this was different. I took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing—” I paused again. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. Okay, out with it already. “I’m a Christian,” I finally said point blank. When he didn’t respond I continued. “I hope this won’t affect our friendship. I would never try to pressure you into believing in my faith. If you ever begin to feel that way please tell me. The last thing I would ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable. And I’m not a judgmental person either.”
“Lily, it’s okay. It doesn’t surprise me. Anyone who listens to you for any length of time can tell you have a faith. I don’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, I haven’t felt this comfortable with anyone in a while. It’s nice to be myself and to be accepted for who I am without all the pressure. So why wouldn’t I accept you?”
I sighed in relief. “Good. I really appreciate that. So, would you like some dessert now? It’s a special recipe I make sometimes for my wedding rehearsals.”
“You bake for your weddings too?”
“Only when they ask me to.” I smiled.
“Well, to answer your question, I would love some dessert.”
We spent the rest of the night talking and eating and talking some more. It was amazing how easy he was to talk to and how comfortable I felt with him.
He shared with me all about his childhood and growing up in London, his modeling as a child, performing on stage, and his love for music. He loved to play the guitar and piano, along with singing, though he admitted his voice was a bit unique. He preferred to sing the blues and promised to play for me sometime.
Before long we were at the front door saying goodnight. “I had a great time tonight. Your home is lovely and very inviting. It sort of reminds me of my home in London. And the food was amazing, but it doesn’t surprise me that you’re a good cook. Oh, and thank you for the dessert,” he said, raising his to-go bag.
“You’re welcome. I had a nice time too.”
He leaned down and kissed me. “Goodnight,” he murmured.
“Goodnight.”
He turned and walked across the porch. I started to shut the door when suddenly he was standing in the doorway, holding the door open. “Can we do this again tomorrow night?” he asked nervously.
I smiled. “Absobloodylootely.”
He smiled a sheepish smile, stumbling over his feet as he backed up. “Great, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” I continued smiling as I shut the door.
Chapter Four
The next morning, though it was early, I called Meagan as soon as I was up and had my coffee in hand. She sounded groggy and confused. “Hey, Meg, it’s me. Is it too early to call?”
She yawned. “Of course not. I love waking up before God. So how’d it go last night?”
I filled her in on every little detail right down to the goodnight kiss, just like I promised. “He seems so lost,” I began, “all of his family is in London. He’s been thrust into stardom, which he never expected. Girls everywhere are in love with him. Everyone wants something from him. He’s very overwhelmed. I feel sorry for him, and I’d like to help him.”
“Oh no. You sound like a little girl who’s found a lost puppy and wants to keep him. Lily, you have to be careful. This guy could break your heart. You can’t change him. That’s not your job. He’s famous for cryin’ out loud, and he’s leaving in less t
han two weeks.”
“I know. Do you really think I’m trying to change him?”
“Not intentionally. I think you feel like you can help him, but I’m not sure you should try. I just don’t want to see you to get hurt,” she finally declared.
“I know, but I think I know what I’m doing. Besides, who knows, maybe he’ll fall in love with me and decide to stay.” There was a brief pause before we both burst into laughter.
“I’ll see you at church,” I said, snapping the phone closed.
I decided to make my grandmother’s famous stew for dinner since I was going to be gone all day, first to church and then to visit my mother. I put all the ingredients in the slow cooker to be cooking in my absence. Then, by the time I got home, it would be ready—genius.
I made regular visits to see my mom every Sunday after church. It was an hour-long drive one way, so by the time I arrived back at home it was after five.
I hurried into the house, checking on the stew before heading up to my room to change. This time I opted for comfort, choosing my favorite blue jeans and a white blouse. I brushed my teeth, freshened my makeup, and ran a brush through my long, wavy, blond locks, thinking it was past time for a trim. Even though I was in a hurry I couldn’t help but think of a certain little girl every time I brushed my hair, looking in the mirror at the curls that at one time in my life I hated more than anything.
I was seven, and it was my first year at summer camp. Even though I was accompanied by others from my church, I was nervous about being away from home for the first time in my short life.
I remember the moment I saw her. She was taking a drink from the water fountain, and she didn’t have to hold her hair back like the rest of us did, because she didn’t have any hair. She was totally bald. My first thought was she must be sick, but no one seemed to be treating her with extra gentleness, so my curiosity was peeked. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I didn’t have the guts….and I was really homesick.
I was sitting on the bunk bed alone and crying when she came through the door and spotted me.
“Hey,” she said. “Homesick?”
I lowered my head and nodded.
“Yeah, I was homesick my first time too, but don’t worry, we’ll have a great time together.”
I peered up at her then, and she was wearing the biggest smile I had ever seen, and I couldn’t help but smile back. We were inseparable from that moment on.
Her name was Laura, and I would later find out the she had an auto-immune disease called Alopecia, which simply meant she couldn’t grow hair. Her personality was larger-than-life, and everyone who met her loved her at once. I was no different.
One day we were sitting by the peer with our feet dangling in the water when she complemented me on my long curls.
“I hate them,” I said before thinking, grabbing a handful in disgust. The kids in school teased me, calling me Goldilocks. It drove me crazy and made me yearn for straight, plain hair.
For the first time since I met her she looked sullen. “I use to have hair like yours when I was very little, before it started falling out. I would do anything to have that hair back again.”
I was horrified. How could I have been so stupid? From that moment on I looked at my hair as a gift. And every time I felt like complaining, I thought of Laura, who seemed to have the world at her feet, even without hair. I respected her more than anybody I had ever met and would ever meet. We write letters, or e-mails to each other to this very day.
I snapped back to reality, smiling as I ran my fingers down one of the long curls I once hated. Sighing, I stood, appraised myself in the mirror one last time, and then darted back downstairs to the kitchen.
I had leftover fixings for a salad so I tossed it together in a big bowl, covered it, and put it back in the fridge. I then made some homemade dressing and set it aside.
Deciding I had enough time to make a dessert, I quickly read through my recipes and chose a peach cobbler since I had all the ingredients. I had recently bought fresh peaches from Sam, our regular vendor who sells out of the back of his pickup truck on the side of the road near town.
Once I had it in the oven and the timer set, I went into the den to tidy up. I sat down to rest for a minute and fell fast asleep.
I woke to the timer on the oven sounding. I went into the kitchen and took the cobbler out to cool. I heard a knock at the back door and had to make myself walk slowly to answer it, all the while counting to ten. My breath caught as I opened the door and saw Lucas standing there smiling at me. He was gorgeous as always, but he looked off somehow. “Please come in.”
“You look beautiful,” he remarked as he entered the room. He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
He smelled funny too, but I couldn’t put my finger on the familiarity of the scent.
“Wow, something smells delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“I saw Randall tonight. He said to tell you hello.” He had an odd look on his face, and again I was puzzled.
“Oh, okay.” I said the words slowly, and then it clicked. “Lucas, are you stoned?” My eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“What?” He chuckled nervously.
“You are, aren’t you?” I couldn’t believe it, and then I became angry.
“Umm, well maybe a little. Randall came by tonight and brought something, but I don’t see the problem.”
“Of course you don’t. Lucas, I would like for you to leave—now.” My voice was composed as I turned and opened the door again.
“What?” he asked, wide-eyed.
“You heard me. I want you to leave.”
He slowly sulked past me, stepped out the door, and turned to say something right before I shut the door.
Well, that’s that, I thought as I stalked into the kitchen, slapping my hand on the bar. “How could he come here like that? Who does he think he is? I deserve better than that,” I rambled to myself, something I found myself doing quite frequently when stressed. Then I began to cry. I don’t know why I was crying. I guess I just felt so humiliated and disrespected. I also felt disappointed in him. How could he not know that that was a bad idea?
I was so frustrated at the situation that I decided to eat some peach cobbler right out of the pan, using the biggest spoon I had and taking ginormous bites from the center. It made me feel better, though just a little.
It was ten o’clock, and I was about to get ready for bed when I heard a knock at the door. My heart sank as I opened the door and there stood Lucas again. This time he looked a little clearer at least.
“Lily.” He reached for the door quickly before I could shut it again. “Please, can I just speak to you for a minute? Please.”
I paused momentarily, deciding what to do. “I suppose, but just for a minute.”
He stepped through the door and walked a little ways before turning to study me. “I really blew it with you tonight, huh?”
I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him with raised brows.
“I guess I didn’t think about how coming here like that would upset you, as it should, of course. I just didn’t expect you to bust me like that. I deserved it though, and if you could find a way to forgive me, Lily. I am truly sorry.” His tone seemed sincere enough.
I unfolded my arms and let out a sigh. “I forgive you, Lucas, of course I forgive you. It’s just that I know you live a different lifestyle than I do, and I’m totally fine with that. I’ll never force my lifestyle on you, and I want the same from you. Coming here like that was disrespectful, and I won’t allow you to treat me that way. If you want to get high, then that’s your choice. I accept that—I accept you, but just don’t come here afterwards. I mean I like you, Lucas, and I want to spend time with you—you and not an altered state of you. If you can accept that then we can still spend time together.”
He peered at me for a moment.
What was he thinking? Did he think I was an awful person?
Then a smile stretched
widely across his face. He scaled the distance between us in just a few short strides, picking me up, his arms engulfing me, and whispering in my ear, “Thank you—I won’t disappoint you again.”
Sometimes he was like a little lost boy, yearning for acceptance and love. Once again it warmed my heart and made me feel like somehow he needed me, and that feeling was amazing.
I let him stay and fed him supper, even allowing him to have some peach cobbler, explaining why there was a huge chunk missing from the center. He just laughed at me. So, I guess I had totally forgiven him. I mean he seemed sincerely sorry. I could tell he still had some of the effects of the pot in his system though. Meagan’s brothers use to get high sometimes and I recognized the symptoms, along with the smell.
He seemed to be talking more openly than usual when suddenly, and out of the blue, he asked, “Have you ever had a hamster?”
I laughed, not sure where he was going with the odd question. “Um, no, but Meagan had one once. It didn’t live very long. Her brothers used it in a game of Badminton. Why do you ask?”
He looked horrified. “Did they really do that?”
“Well, they were young at the time, but yeah they did. That’s why she spent most of her childhood here with me. Why do you ask about the hamster?”
“Well, you know how they get on those wheels and go as fast as they can and then when they finally get off they look around as if realizing they haven’t actually gone anywhere. So what do they do? They get back on and go again. That’s sort of the way I feel. I feel like I’m going and going and never really getting anywhere. Does that make any sense to you?”
“Yes it does, but it doesn’t have to be that way, you know. You can change it. It’s your life. There’s no script that says it has to play out a certain way. You always have a choice. If you don’t like it, change it.”
He peered at me then with a look of amazement. “You make it sound so easy.”
Loving Lily Lavender Page 4