Bryce was more than thrilled. He assured me he’d get everything signed and back to our business department ASAP. He thanked me profusely for such a great opportunity and told me he’d be in touch. I felt a sense of strange relief that he’d be the one talking over everything with Ben. Surely Ben would be thrilled. Surely.
All I got from Ben was a quick text that night, letting me know that Bryce had called a meeting with the band and they were reading all the documents and signing everything.
You would have thought I was the singer for “Ruin.” I was so edgy when ten o’clock rolled around the next day. I’d already mentioned it during my Miss Lonely Heart spiel. Andy led in, telling people to call right after and let us know whether they wanted us to keep it or trash it.
And then it was playing and I couldn’t even breathe.
Paige was texting me, beyond excited, letting me know she’d told every person at the church and everyone would be listening in. I texted her back that she and Milo and every friend they had better call in to vouch for the song. The lines were lighting up and Andy had me answering them—apparently, he wasn’t aware of the near out-of-body experience that was happening to me. Out of dozens of calls, I sighed with relief that only a handful of people said it wasn’t for them.
When our shift ended, Andy gave me a high five. “Diamond in the rough, it is! We’ll keep playing it. Good call, Hart. I’ve got a gut instinct that things are going to happen for preacher boy.”
My gut was twisting, still nervous to talk to Ben. He had to be happy about the response. He had to.
“I cannot believe you got Twenty-Four Tears on the radio!” Paige squealed so loud that I flinched. I’d driven to her place right after my shift and we’d agreed to ride together to the new builds near her neighborhood. She parked out front of the model home and we walked up the sidewalk together.
Paige opened the door and we walked into a small office. A woman sat at a large mahogany desk. She gave us a folder of information with prices on the styles of paired homes that were being built and then told us to take our time walking through the model home.
“Wow,” Paige breathed as we opened the nine-foot black front door and stepped onto gleaming dark hardwood floors.
“Wow is right,” I muttered, flipping through the folder of prices. “Keep in mind that everything we see is an upgrade. I’d be downgrading to basic on everything.”
Paige didn’t respond. She was running her hand over the granite countertops and oohing and ahhing over the extended-length cabinets. Downgrade or not, I liked the idea of getting to pick out my own colors and styles throughout the house. The two-bedroom paired home was the ideal size for me. High ceilings made the rooms feel large, and I loved the big walk-in closet in the master bedroom. The kitchen reminded me of the one in my condo with good lighting and a nice island. The backyard was miniscule but still large enough for a small patio. I could buy an outdoor table-and-chairs set and spend gorgeous Colorado evenings outside. Maybe I would plant a small garden. I could create a home to my exact taste.
All by myself.
Well, maybe. There was the whole paying-for-it part that could get discouraging.
I took all the information and the saleswoman’s number and promised to come in soon for a consultation. I wanted to come without Paige for that. Discussing finances seemed personal enough that it should be done alone. Plus, I figured I’d continue to price neighborhoods closer to downtown in the meantime. Still, having walked through the model house, being able to imagine having a place that was all mine—I was hooked on the idea. A home of my own would put an end to that question of Was I staying?
We drove back to Paige’s house and Ben invaded my thoughts again. “How did Ben sound when you called him?” I asked. “I feel like he’s being weird and not excited.”
Paige frowned. “Huh. Well, he seemed shocked, but of course he would be. I’m sure he’s thrilled, Deb. Anyone would be!”
In a perfect world, yes. I needed to talk to him.
Chapter Fifteen
Here’s to the hearts that break.
La La Land
Ben”—I leaned against the island in my kitchen on Saturday morning, my phone gripped in my hand—“are you mad or something? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I really meant to. I just wanted to tell you in person; then you were so busy at the church that week—and when we got a ‘yes’ from our producer to do it, we had to. I couldn’t let that opportunity slip by. There was no guarantee it would come back around. That’s why I called Bryce.”
“I get it. I’m not mad.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with my left hand. “What are you, then? Something seems off.”
He sighed. “It’s cool. The band is really thrilled. And we’re getting crazy numbers of downloads everywhere—iTunes, Google Play, Pandora, you name it. I guess it was just a shock. That’s not a bad thing, though—and I know you did it because you believe in us. That means a lot.”
“I believe in you,” I said, my tone dropping a notch.
“Thank you,” he said, and I knew he meant it. For the first time in about twenty-four hours, I breathed a little easier.
“We should celebrate. Your song got on the radio!” I told him, eagerness finally creeping back into my voice.
“Yeah, definitely. This week was brutal, though. And I’ve got worship tomorrow. Can we do lunch Monday?”
“Sure,” I agreed easily.
At the last minute, I went to church on Sunday. I figured I wasn’t the first girl to go to church with ulterior motives of seeing a guy. I told myself I didn’t have to stay for the message—I’d just go for the music. I’d just go to hear Ben. But then the pastor got up, after having lost his dad the week before, and I felt too guilty to skip out at that point. I was on the very back row, far left-hand side. The lights dimmed a bit as the pastor stood up to speak, and then Ben was squeezing in next to me.
“How did you know I was here?” I whispered, astounded that he found me. He leaned close to whisper back.
“I guess I was looking for you, Miss Lonely Heart.”
I smiled. About ten minutes into the message, I felt even more guilty that I was too distracted by the fact that Ben and I were basically hip to hip in the crowded row to concentrate. I was having random thoughts about what it would be like to hold hands (or more) with Ben. The fact that he’d been singing praise songs just a few minutes before made me feel even more mortified. As the pastor began to wind up his message, Ben had to leave to go back onstage with the team.
At the first hint of a benediction, I was out the door, almost colliding with Paige, whose eyes were tinged red.
“Paige!” I exclaimed. She wiped her face.
“Hi. I’m surprised to see you.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately. She pulled me outside with her and we sat on a bench.
“So I just heard that Milo asked this girl, Angie, out while we were in the mountains. A date! He finally mustered the strength to make a move, but it wasn’t with me.” Her nose was bright pink as tears filled her eyes again. “I heard about that last night from another friend. Then this morning, I run into him before church, and he’s super nice and wondering if I could help him set up the stage and asking if I’ve got lunch plans.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I was busy and will be busy for a long time.”
I nodded. “That was a good response.”
“You think? I keep wondering if I should have just helped … Who refuses to help set up for church? And as for lunch, maybe he was just being nice or maybe it’s a group thing—”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “Remember how you told me Ben’s feelings matter too? Well, your feelings matter, Paige. It’s okay to give yourself space from him.”
Paige nodded, looking down at her hands. A warm gust of wind blew past us, and she had to push back her hair from her face. “I need to tell you something else too.”
I felt a spike of
trepidation. “Okay. Tell me.”
“Jason friended me on social media.”
I waited, but she didn’t elaborate. “And?”
“That’s all. He friended me and I tagged him in the pictures from the weekend in Breck. And he messaged me that he was glad he met me and maybe he’ll see me this winter.”
I pressed my lips together to avoid laughing at Paige. “Are you worried about how I’ll feel about you being in contact with Jase?”
She nodded, sneaking a glance at me.
“Well, worry no more. I love Jason like a brother, but that’s where it ends. I think it’s great if you guys chat online.”
“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.
I hugged her. “Thanks for considering my feelings, but yes, I’m sure. They don’t come any better than Jason, Paige.”
Monday, I was early to meet Ben for lunch at Tokyo Joe’s again. We hadn’t talked about the kiss. We hadn’t talked about us. We’d barely talked about the radio thing. I sat near the window, watching him in the parking lot. He looked tired, even from a distance. The usual bounce in his step seemed subdued. A backward ball cap held down that hair of his. He ordered and then sat down across from me.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I responded. “It feels like there’s a lot to talk about.”
He nodded, taking off his hat, smoothing back his hair, then putting the hat back on. “Twenty-Four Tears got a spot at the Denver Music Festival. One of the bands had to pull out, and Bryce got a call.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s amazing!”
Both of our meals arrived and Ben started eating.
Why in the world didn’t he seem more excited?
“Ben, do you want Twenty-Four Tears to get more exposure?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
Okay. Next subject. “We haven’t talked about the kiss.”
He grinned. “Which one?”
“Either.”
He took another bite, then wiped his mouth and sucked down half his soda. “I would like for us to start dating. In my mind, we’ve been dating. But obviously, I’ve been living in a dreamland that’s completely one-sided.”
I laughed out loud. And he smiled that wicked smile that could induce a whole audience of women to fall in love with him.
“You’re a worship pastor,” I reminded him. He nodded.
“It’s true. I’d forgotten, so it’s good you keep reminding me. Can you look past that to my hidden qualities?”
It was hard not to just lean over the table and kiss that cute mouth again, but I restrained myself and managed a fake frown. “What are these hidden qualities?”
“We have to start dating for you to find out.” Ben pushed aside his empty bowl, propped his elbows up on the table, and folded his hands.
“Hmm.” I shook my cup of ice, needing a refill but not wanting to disrupt our discussion.
He reached over and laid his hand on the table, palm up, waiting for me to take it. That one gesture made my stomach tighten.
I’m not ready. He might change his mind.
I just stared at his hand, wanting to hold it but not quite able to.
He pulled his hand back. “Debra,” he said, shaking his head as though frustrated. “Does it bother you that much that I’m on staff at a church?”
I shook my head. “No. It just makes me nervous that this might not work out. That we’re not going in the same direction.”
“That I would choose God over you?” He looked right in my eyes.
Ouch. My breath caught for a moment.
I let that sink in and tried to hold off the immediate indignation running through me that I would be passed over. That again I’d come in second best. It took effort, but I gave his comment at least a little of the attention it required. I had a feeling it would be haunting me for much longer.
I closed my eyes for a moment. Tokyo Joe’s seemed like a ridiculous place to have such a serious conversation. When I opened my eyes, Ben was there, waiting on me.
“I don’t think I’d ever ask you to choose God over me, Ben,” I finally answered, not completely sure, but the words felt right. “The truth is, one of the things I like about you is how real your faith is. How it’s all over you, like an old, broken-in, Tom-Petty-and-the-Heartbreakers T-shirt. But the reality is—there might be times you’d want me to go to church with you, and I’m not feeling it. There might be events you’d like me to help at, and for me it wouldn’t be real, so I’d end up feeling fake. I might be showing up to that stuff for you, not God. I think that would start to wear at me. You’d want faith to be something that bonds us together. But for me, I needed God to show up and he didn’t.”
I could see him take every word to heart, his eyes never leaving me, his mouth tightening as I spoke. He inhaled, long and deep, and mixed feelings spiked and fell inside me, like beats on an old stereo. I wanted to hear his response, and then again, I wanted to hold his hand and maybe kiss him until I couldn’t breathe. Dive in and let an uncertain future unfold.
“Well . . . we could keep being friends. I’d like us to try something more, but I can wait.” He took off his hat and rustled his hands through his hair. “I just wonder if this is about me or about Luke. Is it that you don’t want to go out with me, or is it that you still love Luke?”
Fair question, but the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “Neither. It’s not that I don’t want us to date. I’m sitting here, right now, wanting to kiss you again.”
I was angry, but Ben’s eyes lit and his eyebrows jumped. “Really?”
I flushed.
“’Cause we can make that happen,” he added, the adorably wicked grin back. But this wasn’t fun and games for me.
“I’m saying, yes, I like you. But I can’t chance getting in too deep again and ending up with a broken heart. I know I’ll have to take that chance again one day, but eight months ago, I wanted to marry Luke. I was absolutely ready to have a wedding or elope or run to the justice of the peace—whatever he wanted—if it meant I could be married to him.”
Ben sat back abruptly, crossed his arms, and looked away from me. His jaw tightened.
“Ben”—my voice eased up a bit—“I don’t know if I still love him. I think—I hope—that I’m letting go of that. How do you just stop loving someone you gave your heart to? Keep in mind what this is for me—the love of my life broke up with me on Christmas Eve. Within a year, he’s engaged to someone who used to be one of my best friends.” I took a sharp, painful breath. “Is it all that surprising that I offer revenge advice as Miss Lonely Heart?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. I wished we were alone, maybe on my sofa, where deeper questions could be asked. How did he stop loving Jane? Had he ever really loved her? What was it about me that made him think we should give us a try?
“Don’t you think—I mean, it seems like you should be dating someone like . . . Mikayla.”
He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Mikayla again?”
“You know what I mean. Someone who wants to go to church with you. Someone who has more in common with you. C’mon, you’re on staff. You don’t think people might be confused as to why the worship pastor wants to date a girl who doesn’t want to go to church?”
“I think you’re the one who feels confused about that.” He finally made eye contact with me.
“Yes, I am confused about it!” I said with exasperation.
“We need to talk more about this. But not here,” Ben said, and I agreed. “We’ve got the Denver festival next week. Twenty-Four Tears will be one of the start-up bands. You’ll be working.”
“I’ll be at KGBL’s booth for hours with Andy. You should stop by and say hello. I’d love to introduce you to Andy.”
Ben nodded. We walked out of the restaurant toward the parking lot, and my pulse started to jump, wanting things to be different.
Luke and Sara ... that was unforgivable for me. But the fact that here I was, wanting to hold hands with someo
ne new, eight months after Luke broke up with me—the feeling made me angry at myself.
If I moved on, if I found even a measure of happiness—what if Luke and Sara used that to ease their guilt?
Maybe it was wrong, but I didn’t want to help them feel better about hurting me.
Ben stopped in front of my car.
“Thank you for the picture. I loved how I felt in that moment and I don’t want to forget it,” I told him.
The corners of his mouth just barely tilted up. “You were fearless.”
“No. I was nervous. I just did it anyway.”
He stepped closer to me and I tried to take measured breaths. I sneaked a look up at him.
Dr. Clark’s advice seemed extremely relevant.
Ben touched one of my wayward curls. “I can see the faith thing stresses you out, Deb. It doesn’t stress me. God loves you. He holds us when we don’t have faith to hold him. Remember Peter, trying to walk on water? He failed. God didn’t let him drown. He just pulled him back up. If all it takes is faith as small as a mustard seed to move mountains—” He leaned his head down closer to me and whispered, “You can move mountains, Deb. I believe in you. You keep thinking I’m looking for perfect. You keep thinking I’m looking for someone who fits a stereotype.” He shook his head.
“You don’t realize—I wasn’t looking. At all. I haven’t for a really long time. So when you show up—messy in all kinds of ways—and I feel something ... Well, we all want to feel something, right?” His fingers lightly strummed their way down my arm, all the way to my wrist, and he took my hand in his, and I was shaking all over at that touch. “Faith is an unpredictable journey. I’ll walk on it with you, if you want me to. Even as your friend. And wherever you land with it, I’m here.”
He kissed my forehead, then stepped back, his warm fingers still intertwined with mine. “I’ll text you this week, and we’ll see each other at the festival next Saturday. The next couple of weeks are going to be busy for me. Eric’s decided to take a little more time off. He needs to. Now I’ve got studies to lead and visits to make and lots of meetings to go to.”
After the Rain Page 17