Undercurrents

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Undercurrents Page 5

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  After Denise moved away, Shaye looked at the clipboard. She was disappointed to see that her time was one of the slowest, even though all four of their times were within two tenths of a second.

  Royal continued to improve its lead during the rest of the meet, and the locker room was crowded and noisy after the last race ended. Just as Shaye finished changing, Denise stormed up to her. “I don’t know who you think you are, coming in and trying to take over this team.”

  “What are you talking about?” Shaye asked as the conversations around them stopped.

  “Coach said you’re going to be anchor for the relay,” Denise challenged. “And you’re the slowest on the team.”

  “Sorry, Denise.” Shaye crossed her arms, holding her ground. “This is the first I’ve heard about it. I suggest you talk to Coach if you have a problem.”

  “Maybe if you would stop brownnosing I wouldn’t have a problem.” Denise stepped closer, glaring down at Shaye. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed all of those extra practices you keep putting in, trying to make the rest of us look bad.”

  Shaye picked up her swim bag and forced a smile. “Just trying to work harder so I can be as fast as you, Denise.”

  Before the girl could respond, Shaye turned and walked out the door. She had only taken three steps before Matt was at her side.

  “I guess we don’t get to indulge in chocolate ice cream, huh?” he said as he took her hand and led her through the crowd to the door. He felt the familiar connection at the simple contact. Annoyed at himself, he managed to find his voice again. “You were great tonight.”

  “Thanks.” Shaye squeezed his hand automatically.

  Matt freed his hand to open the door and watched Shaye pull the hood from her sweatshirt over her damp hair. They stepped outside into the below-freezing temperatures, and Shaye crossed her arms against the cold. Matt took his jacket off and slipped it around her shoulders.

  “I’m okay,” Shaye insisted as a gust of wind took her breath away.

  “You really need to get on speaking terms with a hair dryer.”

  Shaye nodded in agreement as Matt slipped his arm around her shoulders. He had walked several steps before he realized he had pulled her to his side. His heart dropped in his chest. How could he feel so comfortable with Shaye, so at ease, when every time he brought up anything about church or religion, she shied away? Maybe he could just ask her what religion she was. It might help him open the door to introducing her to his own.

  They walked the distance to her apartment in relative silence before Matt decided to speak. “Shaye, I need to ask you something,” he began as they approached her door.

  “I’m sorry, Matt. I really need to get some sleep.” Shaye stepped away from him, and slipped his jacket from her shoulders. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

  “No problem,” Matt managed as she handed back his jacket and disappeared inside.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. Brandon was right. Being with her was dangerous. He didn’t want to feel this connection with Shaye. He had cautioned himself just the day before to take a step back from her, but the anguish he saw so often in her eyes kept drawing him closer.

  He would just have to tell her about the gospel. How could he consider himself a good friend if he let her continue without it? Maybe the light of the gospel would help her with whatever gave her that look of vulnerability. As he walked back to his car, he began to formulate a plan.

  Chapter Five

  The restaurant was quiet and elegant. Linen-covered tables were lit by candlelight and spaced far enough apart to allow for intimate conversation. Matt knew from his previous visits here, usually with his parents, that the service was excellent and the food superior.

  He also knew that few dishes were made without alcohol. If the direct approach failed, he hoped Shaye’s choice of entrée might give him an opening into explaining his beliefs.

  When they were seated, Matt glanced over the familiar cuisine. Though he already knew what he wanted, he read through the descriptions of the listings. Wine sauces were commonplace among the entrées, and, except for the cheesecake, all of the desserts contained some type of liqueur.

  Shaye set her menu aside surprisingly fast, and her gaze met Matt’s.

  Matt closed his menu. “Have you decided?”

  “I think I’m going to have the Caesar salad.”

  “Are you sure that’s all you want?” Matt asked, almost disappointed she hadn’t ordered something with alcohol.

  Shaye nodded as the waiter approached with their drinks.

  Matt looked up at the waiter. “She’ll have the Caesar salad, and I’ll have the chicken marsala, but I’d like the chef to use bouillon instead of wine, please.”

  “What time is the football game tomorrow?” Shaye asked as the waiter took their menus and retreated into the kitchen.

  “Four o’clock,” Matt told her, surprised that she hadn’t at least questioned him about his customized order. “I hear the weather is supposed to be nice.”

  “I hope so.” Shaye shivered involuntarily. “I think I’m going to have to buy a new winter coat before too much longer.”

  “Didn’t you bring a good coat with you from home?” Matt asked. He had yet to see her wear a coat other than his.

  Shaye’s eyes clouded momentarily. “This may sound silly, but I didn’t realize it was so cold here. I thought the South was supposed to be warm.”

  “Not all of the South,” Matt laughed. “Maybe we should go shopping before the game tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re going

  to freeze.”

  “But you said the weather is supposed to be nice.”

  “Nice for November,” Matt clarified.

  As they dined, conversation flowed easily, and Matt almost forgot to bring up religion until their waiter returned with dessert menus.

  “Did you leave room for dessert?” he asked.

  “I might be up for splitting something with you,” Shaye suggested.

  Matt suppressed a sigh as she once again evaded the topic he so eagerly wanted to discuss. “I’ll let you choose.”

  “Okay.” Shaye hesitated, glancing down at the menu. “How about a piece of cheesecake?”

  “Sure.” Matt watched as the waiter described the list of toppings.

  “Actually, I would just prefer mine plain,” Shaye said, then looked at Matt questioningly.

  “That’s fine for me too,” Matt said.

  “If you want a topping, maybe they could put it on the side,” Shaye suggested.

  “No, no. That’s okay.” Matt changed tactics. “I think all of their sauces have liqueur in them.”

  “You’re probably right,” Shaye agreed before refusing the coffee the waiter offered with their dessert.

  Matt took a deep breath and decided it was now or never. “I’ve been wanting to ask you what church you go to.”

  Shaye’s eyes darted up to his. For a long moment she kept them there, and then shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t really settled into church since I moved here.” She set her napkin on the table. “Will you excuse me? I need to go to the restroom.”

  Frustrated, Matt watched her walk to the back of the restaurant. Shaye routinely closed the door on the subject of religion even though he kept trying to pry it open. He knew he should be pleased that she apparently didn’t drink alcohol, but he wanted to know more of what she did believe. Did she believe in Christ and the Atonement? Matt only hoped he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to introduce her to the gospel.

  * * *

  Shopping for a coat turned out to be much more time-consuming than Shaye thought possible. Never in Phoenix had she even owned a winter coat, much less had to shop for one. She wondered if coats were supposed to make you feel like you might suffocate at any moment.

  Matt led her into what he called “their last resort.” The large discount store offered a bigger selection than the boutiques they had already visited, and with Matt’s help, Shaye finally found a coat s
he could live with. The full-length, camel-hair coat was lined, and she already looked forward to the warmth it would offer.

  When the sales clerk rang up the sale, Shaye looked at her in disbelief when she announced the cost was under twenty dollars.

  “There must be some mistake,” Shaye told her, pointing at the price tag.

  The girl looked at her like she was out of her mind. “You’re telling me I’m not charging you enough?”

  “Could you just check it for me? I mean, look at this coat.” Shaye held up her purchase for inspection.

  “Okay.” The clerk called the manager to the counter, and the mistake was quickly recognized.

  When they got outside, Shaye noticed Matt was staring at her. “What?”

  “I’m just surprised you said anything.” He shook his head in disbelief and amazement. “Most people would have just considered themselves lucky and not said a word.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “What would you have done?”

  “The same thing you did,” he admitted. He took the coat to help her put it on, somehow comforted to learn that the more time he spent with Shaye, the more harmonious their beliefs seemed.

  * * *

  After watching Royal lose by three touchdowns, Matt and Shaye stopped at a coffee shop for a bite to eat. Matt almost laughed out loud when Shaye ordered hot chocolate despite the huge selection of espressos and lattes that most of the other students preferred.

  On the drive back to her dorm, he asked, “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

  Shaye tensed. “Uh, no.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re planning on staying here for the holiday.” Matt parked the car in front of her building and then stared at her in disbelief.

  Shaye simply nodded, chastising herself for not having a prepared excuse.

  “I figured you would fly home for the holiday to be with your family.”

  “It’s too far to go for only a few days.” Shaye shrugged, unable to admit to him the truth about her father.

  “We’re going to have to do something about that.” Matt got out of the car before she could respond. He opened her car door, offering a hand to help her out. She wondered if he noticed that her hand remained in his as he walked her to her dorm.

  When he turned to say good night, their faces were close, and his eyes lowered to her mouth momentarily. She wanted him to kiss her, she realized suddenly. Somehow, Matt had broken through the shield she had built around her heart. If he just lowered his head a few inches . . .

  The building door suddenly opened, and they both jerked back as a group of girls came out of the lobby.

  “Do you want to go to church with me tomorrow?” Matt asked quickly.

  “No, thanks. I’ve already made plans.” Shaye pulled her hand free. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  Inside her room, Shaye sat on her bed, head in hands. Despite all of her efforts to the contrary, she was falling for Matt. She knew nothing could come of it, especially while she had to hide her religion from him. If she could just talk to somebody—a high school friend, her father, Chase—anybody who knew the real her. Dropping to her knees, she resorted to searching for comfort in prayer as she had so many times over the past months.

  * * *

  Her need for belonging still consumed her thoughts as she walked into church the next morning. She was so absorbed that she didn’t notice the crowd in the foyer until it was too late.

  Brandon walked out of the chapel and stopped short. “No way.”

  A heartbeat later, Matt appeared in the chapel doorway, focusing on Brandon. “Bishop said we need to set up some more . . .” His voice trailed off as he followed Brandon’s gaze across the foyer to the main entrance.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Brandon said, nodding toward Shaye. With a grin, he added, “Now we know why she passed your test.”

  “Shaye?” Confusion passed over his face as Matt crossed the distance between them in two long strides.

  Her heart racing, Shaye took a deep breath even as Matt took her hand in his. Her gaze went to their joined hands, and she knew she could no longer hide this part of herself from Matt. She prayed that her membership records would be in order soon.

  “What are you doing here?” Matt asked as a myriad of emotions were reflected in his eyes.

  “Coming to church.” Shaye glanced around the foyer. “I gather today is stake conference.”

  “You’re LDS?” Something twisted in his heart as his expression went from confusion to recognition.

  Shaye nodded. “I’ve been going to the family ward.” She tried to free her hand from his, but found it firmly held. “What test was Brandon talking about?”

  “Oh, it was nothing.” Matt shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he tried to organize his thoughts. “When we were ordering dinner the other night . . . the menu . . .”

  Understanding dawned in Shaye’s eyes. “You were waiting for me to order the wrong thing.”

  “Well,” he started sheepishly. “Every time I brought up religion, you changed the subject.”

  Shaye improvised. “I didn’t want to go to the singles ward. You mentioned yourself that your friends are always trying to set you up.”

  “You knew I was Mormon?” His eyes hardened for a moment, and he let go of her hand.

  “Jenna said something about Caracas.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” he wanted to know.

  “I guess I didn’t want the pressure,” Shaye said lamely. She nodded toward Jenna, who had just approached Brandon. “Don’t you get tired of your friends trying to plan your future?”

  “Actually, I do,” Matt admitted begrudgingly. “But I still wish you would’ve told me.”

  “I’m sorry, Matt.” This time Shaye reached for his hand. “I really didn’t think it would matter that much.” She knew it was a poor excuse, but it was all she could offer.

  Matt pushed disappointment aside and let a surprising wave of relief replace it. He looked down at her, unsure what to think of the fact that she had deliberately hidden her religion from him. With her hand in his, he moved toward the door, wondering how he had missed all of the signs. “Come on.”

  A calmness spread through her as Matt led her into the chapel and they took their seats. Shaye had nearly forgotten how uplifting the talks could be after missing them for so long. When Matt slipped his arm around her, she felt a sense of belonging she had missed so desperately over the past months.

  Chapter Six

  After saying good-bye to Shaye in the parking lot, Matt walked back into the church building and unlocked the clerk’s office to begin tackling the backlog of membership records that needed to be updated.

  Even as he worked, Shaye’s face kept coming into his mind. The relief he felt when he realized she was Mormon was minor when compared to his newest realization that all of her actions were consistent with a member in good standing, which meant she had to be temple worthy. The chains he had kept around his heart were beginning to unlock, and he knew he was falling harder and faster than he was ready for.

  His respect for Shaye grew immensely as they had sat together during stake conference just hours earlier. She had fingered her Bible as new stake callings were issued, and had often turned the pages to look up scriptures used by the speakers. Not once during stake conference did she utter a word or try to pull his attention from the program.

  Before turning off the computer, Matt performed one last task. He requested Shaye’s membership records.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Matt took his usual spot leaning against the wall outside the women’s locker room. When Shaye emerged, she immediately moved toward him, a smile on her face.

  “It looks like we should have invested in a hair dryer when we went shopping Saturday,” he said as she approached him.

  “It’s not that I don’t have one.” Shaye laughed lightly. “I just don’t ever use it.”

  Matt reached out to tuck a lock of her damp
hair behind her ear. Her eyes met his. “I have to do this,” he suddenly whispered. His hand skimmed along her jaw and then rested on her cheek. He leaned forward and brushed his lips to hers. The muscles in his stomach tightened, and sensations skimmed along his spine.

  Her hand lifted to his chest, but neither of them knew if it was to protest or to hold him in place. When he pulled back, Shaye’s cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were wary and confused. “I thought we were just friends.”

  “We are friends.” Matt skimmed his hand down her arm, linking his hand with hers as he drew her out from in front of him. “Friendship is a good place to start, don’t you think?”

  “Matt,” Shaye started.

  “Come home with me this weekend,” Matt offered, seemingly unaffected by her hesitation. “Mom always cooks a huge dinner, and we have plenty of room. I know you can’t want to stay here for Thanksgiving.”

  “Matt, you hardly know me.” Shaye looked at him in disbelief. “I could be a kleptomaniac or something.”

  “I’ll tell Mom to lock up the good silver.” Matt shrugged, turning to face her. “Give me the chance to get to know you better. Besides, I want you to meet my family.”

  “I don’t know.” Shaye wavered. Matt was right that she didn’t want to spend the holiday alone. Facing her first Thanksgiving without her dad and Chase would be difficult. Would it be such a huge mistake to spend it with Matt and his family?

  “Just come,” Matt persisted. “Do you want to leave Wednesday night or Thursday morning?”

  Shaye shook her head but was smiling as he led her into the cafeteria. “Have you ever taken no for an answer?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  * * *

  “Four months.” Agitation was evident in the voice that also indicated a love of power. Perfectly manicured fingers tapped impatiently on a wide desk made of dark cherry. “With all of the resources I have put at your disposal, you have been unable to track down a single girl?”

  Jimmy Malloy stood in front of the desk, shifting uncomfortably. A tall man, broad of shoulder, he was accustomed to giving orders, not receiving them. Until the incident with the undercover agent, the man in charge had given him free rein to run his section of the organization.

 

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