by Leah Atwood
It jutted thirty feet into the water and had several benches. The sun had disappeared and now the moon danced on the water. A cool breeze blew in from the river, setting a subtle chill against his skin.
“Tonight’s been perfect.” Sybil sat on a bench and pulled her jacket closed. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for saying yes.” He lowered himself to sit beside her. Their arms brushed against each other.
The location was perfect. The setting ideal.
Was it the right time?
He changed his position so he could look directly at her. “We get along well.”
An odd expression colored her face. “Yes. A pleasant surprise, right?”
“Yes.” He chuckled nervously. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What?” she asked with a wary tone.
“We should get married.”
She snorted. “Funny.”
“I’m serious.” He wrapped her hand around his. “I think, deep down, you know you can be a good mother, but you’re scared to raise her alone, but you don’t have to. We can get married and give our daughter a family. Her family. We are what’s best for her.”
Her jaw tensed, and she swallowed. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Why not?” He couldn’t stop pressing. In his gut, he believed this was the course to take.
“Marriage is forever, and I know even less about keeping a marriage going than I do raising a child.” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and paused a second. “We’d end up divorced and bitter, and I won’t put our daughter through that.”
“We can have forever if we enter this with a clear head. What stronger bond is there than a child together?”
“Love, Jared. Plenty of people have kids and get divorced. Even people who are in love get divorced.” She shook her head, her eyes filling with regret? Longing? Anger? “Marriage is messy. I want nothing to do with it.”
“Of course it will fail if you go into it with that attitude.” For all the progress he thought he’d made in getting close to her, he realized her walls were impenetrable. For now. But he wasn’t giving up.
“It’s not happening.” She yanked her hand from his and crossed her arms.
“Will you consider it at least? Look at the great time we had tonight.” He gently touched her chin and guided her face to look at him. “Can you deny that we connect on a deep level?”
The muscle in her cheek twitched. “Take me home. Now.”
She was up and almost off the pier before he came out of his stupor—leaving him scratching his jaw.
He jogged to catch up with her. “Was I wrong to ask you to marry me?”
“That’s not it.” She turned around, hurt etched on every plane of her face. “You manipulated me.”
His voice dropped to a controlled whisper. “What are you talking about?”
She threw her arms in the air. “This. Tonight. You didn’t want a date, but a chance to lure me to your side of keeping our daughter. You’re no different from every other man—you all have ulterior motives.”
Stunned, he couldn’t formulate an immediate response. Although he desperately wanted to keep their daughter, he wouldn’t use her to get his way. He could tell she wouldn’t believe him, so how much explaining should he attempt?
He reached to lay a hand on her arm, but she jerked away. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I in any way led you to believe I had any intentions for tonight other than spending time with you. The idea of marriage has floated around for several weeks, and when I saw how well we connected, it seemed the time to ask; but I promise, I’d never mislead or use you.”
“Please just take me home.” She turned around, but not before he saw her brush a tear from her eye.
“Okay.” Dejection hovered over him. What could he do if she refused to believe him?
Help me out here, Lord. What do I do?
Trust in Me, came the still nudge to his soul.
He walked beside her to the land side of the pier.
She refused his assistance up the steps and walked to the truck without a backward glance at him. When he unlocked the doors, she jumped in and hurried to shut the passenger door beside her.
The silent treatment continued the entire ride home. When he parked in front of her house, he expected at least a brief comment, something like “we’ll talk later,” or “see you at next week’s appointment,” but she got out without a word.
As always, he watched her until she’d safely entered her house, and then drove home, frustrated and disappointed with the evening’s outcome. He should have kept his mouth shut. He’d spoken too soon and scared her away.
Later that night, as he lay in bed replaying the events, he sent her a message, apologizing again.
He fell asleep waiting for a reply.
Chapter Ten
“Do you think I overreacted?” Sybil paced in her kitchen while talking to Rysa.
Rysa swirled the straw in her cup. “Do I have to answer that?”
“Yes.” She sat down at the table across from her friend. “I want the truth from someone who doesn’t have the trust issues I do, and that’s before the hormones are factored in.”
A long sigh came from Rysa. “I can understand why and how you feel betrayed and manipulated. However, I can’t find it in me to believe Jared meant to hurt you.”
“But he did.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he meant to.” Rysa crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “And Sybil, it’s been two weeks. Hurt or not, you need to talk to him and work this out.”
She knew that, and in her heart, she knew she’d overreacted, but pride kept her from admitting it to anyone, even Rysa. “He probably realized I’m crazy and moved on.”
Rysa rolled her eyes. “Which is exactly why he sent flowers, issued a handwritten apology, and leaves you a voicemail every day hoping you’ll talk to him.”
“I’ve been a brat, haven’t I?”
Pinching her fingers together, Rysa nodded. “Just a bit.”
She buried her head in her hands and moaned. “What do I do?”
“Talk to him.”
“And if he refuses?” She lifted her head from her pity party.
Rysa gave a wry grin. “We’ve already established that won’t happen. The boy wants to talk to you. Put him out of his misery.”
“My answer still stands. I won’t marry him.”
“I think that is wise.” Rysa stopped talking but her mouth stayed open as though choosing her next words wisely. “But I also wouldn’t discount a relationship with him. He cares for you, and whether you admit it or not, you care for him. Would it be so bad to fall in love?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” The look in Rysa’s eyes matched the challenge of her tone.
Sybil wrinkled her nose and reminded herself she wanted honesty from her friend—and sometimes that meant answering the hard questions. “I don’t want a broken heart. Time after time, I watched my mom fall for men and then they’d toss her aside. She pretended it didn’t bother her, but I saw through that. Eventually she gave up and turned the table—using the men before they could use her.”
Rysa reached across the table and laid a hand on hers. “You can’t judge all men by those who hurt your mom.”
“Like you have with churches?”
Pain exploded in Rysa’s eyes, followed by a hiss from a sharp intake of air. “That’s different.”
Heavy with remorse, Sybil’s shoulders sank. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You’re right, though. My parents and church family shunned me, but that doesn’t mean they’ll all be like that.”
“I’m still sorry.” She offered an impish, apologetic smile. “Can I blame it on mood swings and we pretend it never happened?”
Rysa winked. “Pretend what never happened?”
Relief spread through. “See, I stink at friendships. I’d be even worse as a wife.”
“You
underestimate yourself.” Rysa glanced over at the clock on the stove. “It’s seven o’clock. Do you think he’s home?”
“Unless he went somewhere. He started working at his new job, but is supposed to get off at four.”
“Here’s what I think you should do. Give him a call, make sure he’s home, then go talk to him.” Rysa sipped the remainder of her iced tea.
“You mean, like, now?” Her eyes widened.
“Take it from me, you’ll feel better once you get this resolved.”
Rysa hadn’t steered her wrong yet, so she took her advice. The phone shook in her unsteady hands. When Rysa tried to excuse herself from the room, Sybil stopped her with a silent plea for emotional support.
The call went to voicemail, and she hung up dejected. As much as she didn’t want the confrontation, she wanted to move forward. “He didn’t answer.”
“Why didn’t you leave—” The phone’s ringing cut off Rysa.
“It’s him.”
“Well, answer it.”
She took a calming breath and braced herself before answering. “Hi.”
“Hey, I heard the phone ringing but couldn’t get to it in time.” Hope and hesitation shook his voice, despite his obvious attempt to sound calm.
“Are you home?”
“Yes. Do you need something?”
“I, uh, was wondering if we could talk.” She bit her lips, waiting for his answer.
“I’d like that. Want me to come there?”
“I can come to your house.” She swallowed the lump of apprehension lurking in her throat.
“That’s fine. Can you give me a half hour to clean up? I just got home from the gym.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up, emotionally spent before they’d even had the conversation.
“Well?” Rysa stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for details.
“I’m going over in a half hour.”
“Good for you.” Lowering her hands to her side, Rysa offered a look of approval. “Do you want me to stay here and wait for you?”
Tempted to say yes, she decided to enact her boldness. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Keep your phone nearby, though. I might talk myself into another mess and need your help to untangle it.”
Rysa laughed. “You’ll be fine, but my phone will stay with me all night. Call anytime, girlfriend.”
“Thank you.” She walked Rysa to the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Rysa leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “And you might want to change your outfit. I’m not saying you need to impress him, but you have pizza sauce down your shirt.”
Her hand flew to her cheek. “Oh my word and soul! Thank you for always being straight with me.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
After Rysa left, Sybil went to change her shirt. She had to stop with the junk food, but she’d wanted pizza in the worst way this evening. Her only consolation was that she’d made it at home with lighter, healthier options than what she’d find at the pizza parlor. That, and five months into her pregnancy, she’d only gained eleven pounds which was right on track.
She slipped on a long-sleeved knit shirt and put an open front sweater on over it. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, and she groaned. She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun earlier, and now it looked like spiders hung in her hair. She undid the bun and pulled out the hair tie, then brushed her hair and put it in a neat ponytail.
If she walked to his house, she could work in the exercise she’d been neglecting. A quarter mile was nothing to brag about, but it would benefit her more than driving. Plus, she loved the cool air and the smell of wood burning in a nearby chimney. She’d caught whiffs of it through her open windows all evening. In another month or so, the scent would come more frequently as fall turned to winter.
Decision made, she put on a pair of slide-in sneakers, closed the windows, and went on her way. Each step closer to his house added to her nerves. They had a lot to discuss that went beyond what had happened on their date.
Jared stood at the door waiting for her. He wore jeans and a henley. His wet hair clung to his head, and she noticed he’d gotten his hair trimmed. He gave her a genuine smile. “I’m glad you called.”
“I think I am, too.” She laughed, but a nervous hiccup interrupted it.
“Come on in. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine, but thanks.”
They went to the living room and sat down.
She twisted the corner of her sweater, got right to the point. “I’m not good with apologies, but I’m sorry for overreacting.”
Jared’s facial muscles tensed. “I promise I had no ulterior motives. I honestly just wanted to spend time with you.”
“In hindsight, I can see that, but I let insecurities get the better of me.” She took a deep breath, preparing for what she had to say next. “My answer stands, though. I can’t marry you.”
“I’ve been praying about that and realized I jumped to my own conclusions too soon.” He reached over and held his hand above hers as if waiting for permission to touch her. She gave the nod, and he wove their fingers together. “I want us to be friends.”
“We are.” She sucked in a long breath, taking a leap of faith. “More than friends.”
A smile lit his face up to his eyes. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”
“That’s all I can promise.”
He squeezed her hand, then let go. “It’s all I ask.”
Her eyes caught the book on the coffee table. Other than the mention of prayer seconds ago, he’d never talked about God. Was he one of those church people? But those people didn’t get drunk and get women pregnant outside of marriage. Mom always did say they were hypocrites.
But not Jared. Despite the accusation she’d thrown at him, she knew that he was different. And she’d seen a difference in him after that ultrasound. He’d become peaceful, more restful. She didn’t know if he realized how often he used to fidget and wiggle, but she’d noticed. His eyes brought the most remarkable change. He’d always been vested in their conversations, but a corner of his eyes showed him in another place. Not anymore. What had brought the change?
That church group she’d seen months ago flashed into memory— the one in a corner booth enjoying their time together without a hint of pretense around them. They’d had that same air of contentment Jared now had.
You won’t know unless you ask.
“Do you believe all that?” She angled her head toward the Bible.
“Yes, I do.”
Now what? Did she want to know more? I do. “Why?”
“Why do I believe?”
She nodded. “Mom raised me to believe it was all a myth and church people were the meanest, most judgmental people you’ll come across.”
“No one is perfect, especially within a church.”
“Then why be a Christian if you’re the same as everyone else?” She grabbed the Bible off the table. “Isn’t this just a list of dos and don’ts? Why put yourself through that?”
Sereneness filled his face. “Love.”
“Love?”
“Do you know anything about the Bible or the Christian faith?”
“Not really. There’s a man named Jesus who they say died on the cross, but that’s about it.” Still holding the Bible, she wondered for the first time about the words inside.
“Everything in the Bible revolves around God’s love for His people and His desire for them to follow Him. Love sent Jesus to the cross to die for our sins so we can spend eternal life in Heaven.”
“What do you mean?” She wanted to understand, but those were bold claims that went beyond her comprehension.
Jared spent the next thirty minutes explaining to her the basics of the Christian faith. “Because of everything Jesus did for us, we have faith and hope in eternal salvation. Knowing that this world isn’t the end and that we have Him standing beside us gives us the strength to walk through t
he trials of this life.”
“And all one has to do is believe?” It sounded too simple, too rudimentary to base an entire faith on.
“Yes.”
“No matter what they’ve done?”
Jared’s eyes locked with hers. “I was saved, as we call it, as a boy, but when Mike died, I pulled away. Lost, I turned to alcohol, but that didn’t fill the void and only caused more problems. I didn’t stop believing in God, but I didn’t believe I was worthy of Him.”
Her heart clenched, and her chest fell. She knew there’d be a catch. “So, there are limits of who He can love?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. That’s only what I believed because I held tightly to my guilt. Like a martyr.”
“How do you know?”
“First, He says that everyone who believes in Him, not just those who follow the rules, will have eternal life. The most popular verse in Christian history probably is John 3:16, where it tells us God sent His Son so that whoever believes in Him will have eternal life. But the verse after that is just as meaningful to me, especially in recent weeks. It says, He came to save the world, not to condemn it. He wants us, flaws and all.” The conviction in his voice left no doubt to his belief. He stopped talking for a second, then he smiled, and his eyes twinkled. “Second, time and time again in the Bible there are flawed people whom God uses for awesome outcomes.”
“Can you tell me about them?” She wanted to believe everything Jared told her, but she couldn’t understand why God would want her.
“Moses killed a man, but God used him to lead His people to the Promised Land. Rahab was a prostitute, but God used her to save His people, and she ultimately became a line in the ancestry of Jesus. Paul persecuted and killed Christians, then became one and dedicated the remainder of his life to spreading God’s word. Peter denied Jesus three times right before the crucifixion, but went on to become instrumental in building the Church.” Jared stopped and smiled. “I’m sorry for going on and on. These are stories that I read recently when fighting my own way back. I wish I could wave a wand and make you experience the peace I have now, but every person has to find it for themselves.”