Holly's Heart Collection Three

by Beverly Lewis

She told me it was either burgers with the works—no special orders since we were only going to stop for a few minutes—or grilled chicken sandwiches.

  “Better tell Mrs. Duncan you were spacing out,” Andie admonished.

  I trudged up to the front of the bus and gave my burger order. When I returned, the book on God’s will for a mate was nowhere to be seen.

  “Andie!”

  “What?”

  “Where’s the book?”

  “Which one?”

  “C’mon, you know.” I could see she’d set me up.

  “Oh, this.” She held it up, wearing a smirk.

  “It would be nice if I could actually finish it before you start it.”

  She was reluctant—already had her finger stuck in the second page. “Well, I absolutely have to read the rest . . . and soon.”

  “Okay, I’ll hurry.” The truth was, I didn’t want to rush through it. Now that I was actually able to date, the idea of courtship was intriguing. There were definitely times I found myself thinking about what my future would be like. Who I would marry, or if I would at all. . . .

  My mom’s marriage record wasn’t exactly the best, obviously. She and Daddy had suffered through a separation and then divorce by the time I was eight years old. I was hardly old enough to know what was going on but old enough to know it hurt. Bad. Their divorce had left a skeptical imprint stamped in my mind, especially about the happily-ever-after kind of love.

  Now, though, Mom seemed settled and happy with Jack Patterson, and they were starting a brand-new family together. The big difference, the way I saw it, was that Mom and Uncle Jack were both dedicated Christians. And they worked hard at their relationship, which was something lots of couples with kids seemed to neglect.

  Anyway, I wanted my marriage to last forever. And I knew if I could follow the radical precepts in Paula’s book, it just might happen for me.

  Someday.

  Thinking about what I’d read—about giving myself totally to Jesus and falling in love with Him—made me wonder if the unique message of the book had been the reason for the change in Jared. Danny too.

  Quickly, I found my place and began reading again, blocking out Andie’s chatter with Paula and Kayla. Even the stopover for fast food couldn’t keep my nose out of the book.

  If only I had read something like this earlier. I could have saved myself the heartache of the boy-girl thing. I’d had too many emotional ups and downs over guys.

  I could hardly wait to email a note to Sean. But I wouldn’t be so bold as to share with him about my fabulous new discovery. Not yet, anyway.

  IT’S A GIRL THING

  Chapter 6

  In Colby, Kansas, I turned the book over to Andie just as I spotted the city limits sign. She was thrilled and dived right into it.

  On the opposite side of the bus, Paula, Kayla, and I discussed some of the alternatives to modern dating as presented in the book. Things like hanging out in groups and being platonic friends with the opposite sex. And parental involvement in the choice of a mate. Most of all, being patient as God worked out His loving plan for our lives.

  “I’d give anything to skip over the crushes of my life,” I admitted softly, glancing around to make sure neither Danny nor Jared was within earshot.

  “I know what you mean,” Paula said. “The dating game is for the birds. You get hurt because the boy might end up liking someone else after a while.”

  Kayla nodded her head. “That’s so true.”

  Paula continued, “Some people say you can’t find God’s choice unless you date lots of people. But waiting for God’s perfect timing—waiting for Him to bring along your life mate— makes a lot more sense.”

  “Spiritual sense, too,” I whispered.

  Andie perked up her ears. “Hey, what am I missing over there?”

  “Nothing compared to that,” I replied, pointing to the book in her hands.

  “Oh good.” And she went back to reading.

  I did finally have a chance to talk with Jared before our bus made its way over the first mountain pass west of Denver, Colorado.

  “I don’t know if I ever apologized for hurting you the way I did last year,” Jared said at one of the stops to stretch our legs.

  “Well, you did,” I reminded him. “Many times.”

  He smiled wistfully. “I wish I’d known then what I know now about trusting the Lord for my romantic future.”

  “You’re not the only one.” We walked back toward the bus, and I felt joyful. Jared and I really were good friends now. The old boy-girl thing was gone between us. Both of us wanted God’s best for the other—the way it always should’ve been.

  Andie was saying some of the same things when she finished reading. In fact, it seemed that half the bus was buzzing about the book.

  “Doesn’t it beat a Marty Leigh mystery?” Paula asked.

  “All to pieces,” I said, realizing that I might consider reading nonfiction for a change.

  Andie chuckled. “I wondered when the three of you would come to your senses about mysteries.”

  “They’re better than those silly romance novels you read,” I countered.

  Andie shook her head. “You mean the romance novels I used to read.” She glanced at the book in her lap. “Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Maybe someday I’ll sprinkle some of these ideas into one of my novels for teen girls.” Sounded like the perfect plan to me.

  “Don’t forget, I get the first dedication,” Paula said with a smile, showing off her perfect white teeth.

  “Why, because she showed you the book?” Andie retorted. “But I’m your best friend, don’t forget.”

  “We’re all best friends,” I said. And I could tell by the twinkle in her eye, Andie understood.

  It was almost dusk when the bus pulled into the parking lot of the high school. Mrs. Duncan suggested we all head home and get a good night’s rest. “You’re all excused from turning in homework assignments to all your classes tomorrow,” she said.

  Danny raised his hand. “When will we know if we placed?”

  “No later than next Thursday.”

  The kids, including me, groaned. How could we wait that long?

  I hugged my girl friends good-bye, promising to meet them for lunch in the school cafeteria tomorrow.

  It didn’t take long for me to spot our family van, but when I looked more closely, I noticed Stan was sitting in the driver’s seat.

  I shoved away the thought of complaining. At least I had a ride home.

  As it turned out, Stan had taken time out from the Sunday evening service to come for me. No heading home or resting for me. He drove back to church, where Mom, Uncle Jack, and all the kids were sitting in the seventh pew from the front. On the left side, as usual.

  We tiptoed in and sat in the back—Stan and I. Exhausted from my whirlwind weekend, I let myself slouch down in the seat a bit. Stan shot me a superior, almost parental look.

  “I’m beat, okay?” I whispered.

  He looked away, acting disgusted. And that’s how things got started again between us.

  All through the following week, Stan was his non-adorable self, chewing me out whenever possible. Over the weirdest stuff, too.

  For instance, Tuesday he came into my room, where I was folding some baby blankets in the crib. He scowled as he watched, then started to remind me that he was not, under any circumstances, going to feed, change, or burp Mom’s new baby.

  “Hey, don’t tell me about it,” I said.

  His face flushed red. “Holly, you’re taking things for granted about this baby—”

  “Who isn’t even born yet,” I interrupted, studying him. “I can only hope that April doesn’t turn out to have any of your sinister qualities.”

  He shook his head. “You’re grasping at straws.”

  “Here, catch.” I threw a pink plastic baby bottle at him. “It’s high time you get the feel of things. Someday you’ll wish you knew how to do all this wonderful
baby stuff—for your own son or daughter. Or, hey, here’s a concept: Maybe, just maybe, you’ll want to help your wife out. What about that?”

  He snorted something that I didn’t quite catch. And really didn’t want to.

  “You know, there’s nothing sissy at all about any of this,” I offered.

  He scratched his head, like he was trying to figure me out. “I told you, Holly. It’s a girl thing.” And with that, he threw the bottle back at me and left the room.

  Frustrated, I hurried to my door and closed it. Ah, peace at last. And time for another journal entry. Maybe, I thought, if I wrote down my frustrations, I’d feel better.

  Tuesday, April 10: The oldest brousin is hopeless, as in completely gone. I’m referring to Stan, which comes as no surprise. When I look back over the pages of this secret diary, it’s obvious that the boy has dished out nothing but harassment ever since his father married my mother.

  Now . . . on a lighter side. Mrs. Duncan told us today that she’ll have the outcome of the competition in two more days. Andie suspects that she already knows but is waiting till our principal returns from an administrative conference before announcing the news.

  Anyway, between Mom’s bouts with sleepless nights (she really does think the baby might come early!) and the possibility of show choir going to Washington during spring break, I’m freaked out.

  If only Stan would cool it with his ridiculous macho remarks!

  IT’S A GIRL THING

  Chapter 7

  Thursday, April 12: Things couldn’t be better! We’re flying to the nation’s capital in exactly eight days—the high-school show choir, that is.

  Our chorus’s status has finally hit the papers, and there was an exclusive interview with Mrs. Duncan on the Dressel Hills evening news.

  My friends can hardly believe we’re going, especially Paula and Kayla, who have relatives in Pennsylvania. Paula’s going to ask Mrs. Duncan tomorrow about getting them in to see us sing.

  My family? Now, that’s a problem. Mom’s so sure that the baby is coming early. And Uncle Jack wants to talk to me tonight after supper. Shoot, I can almost imagine what he’s going to say. I only hope the baby arrives before I leave!

  To round off the fabulous things in my life, a long email came from Sean today. He’s planning to attend college days at George Washington University, which isn’t far from the location of our competition. (I looked it up on the Internet.) Of course, he has no idea I’m going to be there that same weekend, but I’m sure he’ll want to know. So . . . one email-writing session coming up!

  After the supper dishes were cleared away and loaded in the dishwasher, Uncle Jack sat me down in the living room. Mom had already gone upstairs to get off her feet, which seemed to be swelling, my stepdad informed me.

  Stan was out with some friends, and the rest of my siblings were either tending to homework or waiting for family devotions to begin.

  “I think we need to talk,” Uncle Jack began softly. His wavy brown hair looked disheveled from the long day, and a fiveo’clock shadow stubbled his chin. “Your mother and I are thrilled for you about the high-school choir competitions back East. There’s only one little hitch.”

  Here it comes, I thought.

  “If the baby comes early, we’re going to need you here, Holly.”

  Mom had already said the same thing, in so many words. But hearing it from Uncle Jack made it sound terribly final.

  “The choir’s flying out a week from tomorrow,” I told him.

  The school board had decided to pitch in half of each plane ticket. The rest had come from past parent-teacher association fund-raisers.

  Uncle Jack glanced at the calendar on the lamp table near the couch. “Let’s see, that’s Friday, April 20?”

  I nodded. The baby was due exactly five days later, on April 25.

  Uncle Jack scrunched his lips. “That’s cutting it close.”

  “I’m really praying about this,” I volunteered, “so if it’s okay with you, let’s not plan for the worst.”

  He chuckled good-naturedly, and I felt the heaviness lift.

  Soon he was calling for the rest of the family, and instead of having devotions in the living room, we gathered in the master bedroom upstairs. That way, Mom’s swollen feet and ankles could be elevated, and she could relax.

  I listened to the Scripture reading but couldn’t keep my mind on the story that followed. I was too deep in thought, pondering how incredible it was going to be to sing and compete against America’s best ensemble groups.

  Remembering Miss Hess, my choral director from junior high, I wondered how she must be feeling about the news. Surely it was a direct result of her careful training that the choir was at this present level of excellence. I decided to stop by the junior high after school tomorrow and pay her a visit.

  After our prayers Mom let Carrie and Stephie talk to the baby sister in her stomach. I hurried off to my room to send a note to Sean.

  Andie called in the middle of my note. Evidently Stan had arrived home, picking up the phone on the first ring. He shouted up the stairs to me, his voice sounding polite in spite of the volume, probably because Uncle Jack was sitting nearby.

  I took the hall phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Hey.” Andie paused. “What’s Stan doing home?”

  “He lives here.” I giggled.

  “I know that, silly. But I thought you said he was going out with friends.”

  “They must be done doing whatever it was they did.”

  We both burst into laughter.

  “Seriously,” she said, “I was wondering if Stan’s read that book on praying for God’s choice in a mate.”

  “Oh . . . I get it.”

  “No, it’s not what you’re thinking,” she insisted.

  “You mean you don’t still like my stepbrother?”

  “C’mon, Holly. You should know what I mean. After reading that book and all.”

  “So where’s the book now?”

  “Paula returned it to the church library. But if you’re so desperate to finish it, why don’t you just buy it?” I suggested. “The Christian bookstore has it, as well as others like it.”

  “Great idea. I’ll check things out tomorrow after school.”

  “Okay, but I was hoping you’d come along with me to visit Miss Hess.”

  “Should I see if Paula and Kayla want to go, too?”

  “Perfect.” So it was set—we were going to stop by and visit our old stomping grounds. And a favorite teacher.

  However, not once during the course of our phone chat did I bring up my conversation with my stepdad. No sense having Andie worry about something that most likely wouldn’t happen anyway.

  IT’S A GIRL THING

  Chapter 8

  The following Monday, Sean Hamilton called long-distance. “We could meet somewhere in D.C. and have lunch.” He sounded very excited.

  “How long will you be there?” I asked.

  “Three days . . . my plane leaves for home early Tuesday morning. You?”

  “We’re leaving this Friday and coming back next Wednesday.’

  “Great! We should be able to squeeze in some time on Monday to tour the monuments or see the Smithsonian. Okay with you?”

  “Well, I think our director is scheduling a tour for the whole choir on Monday,” I replied. “Maybe it would work out for you to join us.”

  Sean didn’t hesitate. “That’d be fine.” He went on to give me a cell phone number where he could be reached, and I gave him mine and the hotel number where the choir was staying.

  “This’ll be really terrific, Holly,” he said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

  I could almost see Sean’s face. His voice sounded like he was really happy. So was I!

  The visit back to the former junior-high building the next day brought with it nostalgic feelings. Andie got it started. She talked about the day the ambulance came and took Jared Wilkins away after a mishap on the ropes
during timed tests in PE. Then, one after another, Paula, Kayla, and I began to recount the events of our two years in those halls of ivy.

  “Does everyone remember when Danny Myers had a big crush on Holly?” Andie asked, looking at Paula and Kayla.

  “I think he still does,” Paula said. She fluffed her hair and grinned at me.

  “Crushes come and go,” I said. “But true love, now, that’s what I want!”

  “Remember, the most important thing is to remain simply good friends until God brings along the right person.” Kayla was sounding like a quote from the book.

  “But how will we know when our future husband shows up?” Andie asked, glancing at me.

  “The book says to be in prayer about it, asking God to show you—to make it very clear—and the timing will be perfect, too.”

  “Man, it’s hard to picture it happening like that when we’ve been programmed so differently,” Kayla commented. “I mean, the media plays up dating and sex as though they’re the things to do. But I know not everyone conducts their life that way.”

  Andie agreed. “It’s like Hollywood and the music scene is trying to brainwash us into believing a lie.”

  By the time we arrived upstairs in Miss Hess’s cozy choir room, we were all completely sold on the book’s approach to romance—God’s way.

  “Well, hello there, girls,” Miss Hess said, looking up from her desk. “What brings you here?”

  “Haven’t you heard the news?” Andie asked, her dark eyes shining.

  “I certainly have,” our former choir director replied. “I’ve been following the competition results very closely. You know, Mrs. Duncan and I are good friends.”

  “Cool,” I said. “Do you and Mrs. Duncan confer with each other about music?”

  She got up and went to the piano, leaning on the back of it the way she always used to. “You may not know this, but Mrs. Duncan and I worked out some of the scores for The Sound of Music together last year.”

  “You did?” I cherished this comfortable link back to seventh-and eighth-grade days. “Are you doing another musical this year?”