“What makes you think something is wrong?” she had asked him coolly, lifting her pointed chin as she looked at him.
“Because you look like you’re about to explode and you’re sitting out here all by yourself,” he pointed out; a lock of hair falling down on his forehead, giving him an endearing look. He was fifteen and she was fourteen and even though they went to the same church; she had never spared him more than a passing glance. She had no interest in boys at that time.
She had shrugged and looked away; her interest caught by a boy and a girl in a passionate embrace.
“Your mother leaving was not your fault,” he told her quietly causing Sara’s head to whip around sharply, her eyes blazing as she stared at him.
“How dare you talk about my mother? It’s none of your damn business,” Her voice had gone hoarse as she fought back tears.
“It’s okay to cry,” he had told her, completely unfazed by her outburst. And Sara had cried. She remembered him pulling her into his arms and rubbing her back soothingly until she was spent. She had tried to pull away when she was done but he wouldn't let her and she had stayed that way for a while before she pulled away.
“Feeling better?” he had asked her, not in the least bit embarrassed that a girl had cried buckets on his shoulder. She had nodded and used the back of her hands to wipe her wet cheeks. And then she had told him what she had said to her father. He had told her to go home and apologize and explain what she was feeling and he was sure her father would understand and forgive her.
She had done just that and her father had told her gently that there was nothing she could ever do or say to him for him to hate her.
She and David had become friends from then and later in years had become a couple. He had always been there for her and she had taken him for granted and broke his heart because she had thought about only herself. His mother was right; it was up to her to prove to him that she would never do that to him. If time was what he needed; she would give him that; even though it killed her to be away from him.
Chapter 6
She was ill. She had woken up Friday morning with a raging headache and an itchy throat and she was running a temperature. It was five o’clock in the morning and she hated to wake her father; besides she felt too weak to even get off the bed.
She scrambled off and went to the bathroom to get a glass of water to wet her parched throat. She was so dizzy she had to hold on to the counter. She never got sick, she thought irritably and because of that she didn't have even an aspirin in the bathroom cupboard. She dug around and found some Nyquil which she swallowed with slight distaste.
It took her a little while to get back into her bedroom and into bed. By that time she was washed with sweat. She settled back against her pillows with a sigh of relief and went straight back to sleep.
It was when her father called her name several times that she woke up with a start.” Honey are you ill?” he asked in concern, using the back of his hand to rest on her forehead. “Darling you are burning up!” he exclaimed.
“I’m sorry dad,” she told him miserably. “I feel awful.”
“I am going to get you some tea and a cold rag for your face,” he told her, leaving the room hurriedly.
Sara sank back on the pillow, her energy spent. He came back into the room shortly after with a tray of tea and a slice of plain toast and a glass of water. He put the tray on the bed and eased her up against the pillow and set the tray on her lap. “I want you to try and eat this and drink the liquid, your body needs it and I am going to bring up a bottle of orange juice for you to drink as well. You need the vitamin C. Don’t worry about the store, I’ll manage.” He made her promise to get some rest; then he left.
Sara nibbled on a piece of bread and drank down the tea and water; quenching her parched throat before putting the tray on the side table. She slept and woke up feeling a little better; at least she was not feeling as weak as before. “Glad to see that you are still in the land of the living.” The soft voice beside her bed, almost had her screaming. What on earth was he doing here?
Her hand automatically went up to her hair which must be a sight.
“You could never look anything less than beautiful even if you tried,” David said dryly, leaning over to put a hand on her forehead. It was as if he had scalded her; his touch affected her more than the fever had.
“What are you doing here?” she croaked.
“I went to the store to see you and your father told me you were holed up in bed with the flu.” He told her. He was sitting on the side of her bed and was the epitome of good health, with his tanned skin, glowing with perfection and he smelled enticingly of sun and plants.
“You didn’t have to come,” she told him, her throat was parched again and her head felt dizzy.
“I didn’t have to but I wanted to,” he got up and poured some orange juice in a glass and handed it to her. Sara accepted it gratefully and downed the glass thirstily.
“I will be okay now so you don’t have to stay,” she handed the glass to him.
“I am not going anywhere,” he told her mildly, kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed; pulling her surprised body against his.
“David,” she murmured halfheartedly, welcoming his warmth and solidness.
“Shh,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “Go to sleep, I will be right here.” She drifted off to sleep in his arms, her head on his chest. David held her to him with a tenderness that exposed his feelings and his heart constricting with the depths of it.
She woke up an hour later disoriented; not knowing where she was and it took her a minute to realize she was in David’s arms. She lay there savoring his closeness and hoping fervently that she could stay that way forever.
“Feeling better?” his deep voice rumbled in his chest and vibrated against her face.
She shook her head yes; twisting to look up at him. He was staring down at her with a look that had her heart inside her throat. It was unbelievably tender.
“How about something substantial to eat?” he asked her lightly. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” she told him hoarsely, her eyes locked with his; her meaning clear. He held her gaze for a moment then with a strangled groan he put her away from him; climbing out of bed.
“When I make love to you again Sara, it’s not going to be when you’re weak with a virus but when you’re strong enough to match me move for move,” he told her through clenched teeth before leaving her to go to the kitchen.
Sara sank back against the pillows, a gloating smile playing around her lips. Suddenly, being so ill was not too bad after all.
He had made her chicken soup and not the one from the can but chicken soup made with his own two hands and a slice of whole wheat bread. She took a sip and her eyes widened appreciatively. “This is good,” she told him. He was sitting at the edge of the bed.
“Chicken soup for the physical being,” he grinned teasingly.
“Your cooking skills have improved drastically,” she told him with a shake of her head. She was indeed starving and she found herself drinking down the soup rapidly. He watched her until she finished eating and took the tray away from her. “How do you feel now?”
“As if I'm a new person,” she told him gratefully. He came around, propped her pillow for her and she captured his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, bringing his hand to her lips.
“Sara,” he groaned. “Don’t please. I can’t do this when you’re in a weakened state and you’re making it extremely difficult for me.”
She placed an open mouth kiss in his palm and released his hand. He stood there looking at her, his eyes clouded over. “I’ll behave,” she told him impishly, settling back against the pillow.
He sent her a wry glance before sitting back on the edge of the bed.
“I am glad you came,” she told him sincerely. She was starting to feel like her old self again and it was mostly due to him.
“I meant what I said the other night Sara,”
he leaned on his elbows and propped his feet on the bed, facing her. “Trying to stay away from you is like trying to stay away from myself,” he gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s downright impossible.”
“You don’t trust me, I get it,” she raised a hand as he started to protest. “I don’t blame you David; I would do the same in your shoes. I told myself I was right to be angry at you at your mother for making me feel rotten but I did it to myself and I don’t really deserve your forgiveness but I want to try and earn back your trust if you’ll let me.”
He stared at her, not knowing what to make of it. Here he was in her bedroom; in her bed and as much as he wanted to sink himself deep inside her, he had to practice constraint because of how weak she was. When her father had told him she was not feeling well he had wanted to drop everything and rush to her side but he had promised his father that he would pick something up at the store for him. He had chafed with impatience all the way and had almost killed himself getting here. He had watched her sleep and knew without a shadow of a doubt that it had to be her. It always had been her.
He looked away for a moment and his eyes caught a ratty teddy bear on a chair in the corner of the room. He remembered how she had always pretended to be tough but had kept the teddy bear he had won at the fair for her so many years ago. “You kept ‘Bill’,” he murmured softly. She had named him Bill the bear and had heatedly told him it was a good name for a stuffed toy.
“He got me through many lonely nights,” she said softly.
“That day at the fair was one of my happiest memories of our relationship,” he commented. “We ate so much popcorn and cotton candy that you accused me of trying to get you fat.”
“And you got cotton candy all over my hair,” she accused him with a laugh. They had spent the day holding hands and kissing when they were sure no grownups were looking. How innocent they had been then.
There was silence as they both drifted back in time; savoring the happy memories of their relationship and the time they had spent together.
“We can’t get that back,” he said abruptly, a frown creasing his forehead.
“We can’t, but we can make others,” she told him softly, holding his gaze. “We can make more lasting ones David; I am not the same girl I was before and I have no intention of leaving like I did before. I was naïve and scared and did not know what I wanted. I hurt the two most important people in my life and for that I am very sorry.”
“What are you saying?” he asked her hoarsely.
“I want you back and if I have to make the first move then so be it. But this time I want it done officially; we go out on dates and we get to really know each other. I am asking for another chance David.” She looked at him pleadingly.
He did not respond at once and Sara felt her heart sinking – if he said no she was not going to give up – surely he must still love her.
“I went out with several members from church because I wanted to see if there was any way I could move on from you,” he said with a small smile. He was not looking at her and Sara wondered whether or not this was a good sign. “There was one whom I thought was going to be the one to help me move on but it didn’t work out and I ended up doing to her what you did to me. I broke her heart and I have regretted it ever since. Thank God she has moved on since and is now married or I would still be flogging myself. I never stopped loving you Sara,” he looked at her; his eyes stormy. “I just did not like you but loving you have never been a problem.”
“Do you think you can ever like me again?” she whispered.
“Oh Sara,” he sighed; He slid closer to her and took her into his arms. “I just want to hold you right now and not think about anything else. May I do that?”
She nodded, closing her eyes as she rested against his broad shoulders with a contented sigh. It was a start.
When she woke up, he was gone and there was a note. With a hammering of her heart she reached for it, her hands trembling slightly.
“Darling Sara, I had to leave because just lying next to you was giving me ideas and I could not act on them. I would like us to start over and I want to start by saying that I never stopped loving you. I want you back in my life, I always have and always will but now I want you to do something for me: get better and we will have our date. I will be seeing you. I love you. David.”
Sara held the letter to her; tears blurring her vision. He wanted her back and she knew she did not deserve to get him back but she was ecstatic. “Please God, I promise never to hurt him again and thank you for a second chance,” she breathed a prayer. She wanted to call him but she held back; she had no intention of appearing desperate; no matter what she felt.
Her father came home that night and saw her up and about and in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the dinner she had prepared. She had taken a much needed shower and had put on a T-shirt and sweat pants; she really did feel better.
“What are you doing up young lady,” he asked scolding her.
“I'm fine Dad,” she went over and kissed his cheek. “I made us dinner.”
“I can see that,” he looked at her shrewdly. “Any chance this change for the better had anything to do with young David’s visit?” He pulled up a chair as she ladled chicken soup into a bowl. David had made plenty to serve for a meal and she had prepared a salad and baked a chocolate cake for dessert.
“Yes it does,” she told him with a smile; as she sat down to join him. “He made me soup and I ate and we talked.”
He sipped the soup and raised an eyebrow in surprised appreciation. “The young man can cook.” He commented. “He loves you Sara, never stopped and when you went away he never stopped asking me for you.”
“I have asked him for a second chance Dad,” Sara told him.
Deacon Williams nodded. “We all deserve a second chance my dear and I am happy you are making amends and trying to make it work. You two belong together.”
“Thanks Dad,” she reached out a hand to grasp his. “I hurt you both so much and I can never make up for what I did.”
“Loving someone means you forgive them over and over again my dear,” he told her gently.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence and her father insisted on doing the washing up and urging her to go and get some rest. “You also have the day off tomorrow,” he told her firmly.
“But Dad-“ she started to protest.
“No buts girl. You need some more rest and maybe a chance to go somewhere. It’s an order.” He told her with a smile, turning back to the sink.
*****
Sara made the decision. She had called first to make sure they were going to be there. She had gotten the number from the personal directory in her father’s office and she had not said anything to David. He had called her that night to find out how she was doing and had told her that he had some things to catch up on.
She knew the house well. She had been there so many times when she was younger. She had even been up in David’s room where they had been on his bed just listening to music and chatting.
The place had not changed much since the four years she had been away. The garden had been a showpiece for quite some time and that still remained.
Sally greeted her at the door. Her striking resemblance to her son always amazed her. Her long dark hair was piled on top of her head to give her added height and she was wearing a cheerful apron over her summer dress.
“Come in dear, John is in the living room,” she opened the door wider to let Sara pass her. They went into the room where David’s father was seated on his favorite rocking chair. He was a giant of a man with dark brown hair sprinkled liberally with gray and soft green eyes that always seemd to be smiling.
“My dear Sara, good to see you,” he said in genuine delight as he rose and came over to give her a hug. She had always liked him because he went about with a cheerful smile and a pleasant countenance.
“Good to see you too John,” Sara returned his hug.
Sally beckoned
for her to take a seat and then she bustled out to get some lemonade and cookies. “So how have you been my dear?” John asked as soon as his wife went inside the kitchen. He had not been to church for the past few weeks because of a bad back so he had not seen her since she had been back.
“I am doing well thanks,” she smiled at him.
“Your father must be pleased to have you back with him,” he commented.
“He is,” Sara nodded. Just then Sally came back with the refreshments and passed them out.
Sara took a sip of the ice cold lemonade and taking a deep breath, plunged right in. “I love David; I know you might not believe me but I really do love him.” She stared down at the drink she had in her hand and missed seeing the looks exchanged by David’s parents. “I messed up so much; I thought I wanted something more, something different and I was wrong. I left the love of a good man only to find out that there was not a better one than David. It took my leaving for me to realize that.” She looked at Sally who was sitting there silent, allowing her to have her say. “You told me when I have children I would understand what seeing David like that did to you.” John looked at his wife with a puzzled frown.
“My dear, you do not owe us an apology,” he told her firmly. “What happened to David and you is between you too.”
“I know that John but you are his parents and I am sure what I did affected both of you,” Sara told him, she had replaced her glass on the table in front of her. “I am not apologizing; I am explaining because I want him back in my life and I want to clear the air.”
“David has never loved anyone but you Sara,” Sally smiled slightly. “He tried to kid himself that he was over you but he was not and I saw that. When I came to the bookstore the other day,” she placed a calming hand on her husband’s arm as he turned to look at her. “I was upset and it was not my place to upbraid you like that but being a mother I felt it was my duty to warn you not to hurt my son. He is an adult and he has to take care of himself.”
Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart: A BWWM Christian Romance Page 6