Trey wasn’t sure where Lance was going with this, but his heart and mind clamored to understand. “What are you saying to me, Lance?”
Lance took his time, looking at him. “I’m saying, you’ve prayed to be heterosexual, as if that’s the gold standard. The opposite of homosexuality isn’t heterosexuality—a whole heckuva lot of people are sinning with the opposite sex.” His voice had equal parts warmth and strength. “God didn’t call you to be heterosexual, Trey. He called you to be holy, like Him.”
Trey let Lance’s words settle, words that looped over and over in his head. Heterosexuality had been the gold standard as far as he’d been concerned. Those who were attracted to the opposite sex were the blessed ones, the normal ones. In his mind, they lived several rungs above, in space he longed to occupy.
But why did he think that? Suddenly he realized—that wasn’t in the Bible.
“I have the same battle as you,” Lance said. “The battle for holiness. We’re pursuing the same standard. We’re in this together.”
“But what if God never changes me? What kind of life would I live?”
“I wish I could tell you all the plans God has for you,” Lance said. “But I know He’ll show you. And what kind of life? Any life lived in Christ is an abundant life.”
Trey stared into the distance, his thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces trying to find shape and structure. He felt a pressing need to pray, but what would his prayers look like now? Could he pray with any feeling of closeness to God? It had been so long.
“Something else . . . ,” Lance said.
Trey looked at him.
“When something is in our lives that brings affliction or suffering or any struggle we can’t control, we’re more aware of our need for God. We’re more aware that this is not our home, that we have a greater hope.” Lance paused. “It might seem that God doesn’t care because He won’t remove the struggle. But when you start looking to Him in the midst of it, you get to see His love and care in deeper ways than most.”
“I could see that, actually,” Trey said. When he did feel good about praying again, he thought, he would pray that for Kendra.
A smile broke onto Lance’s face. “I just thought about something you said. So God used Molly as protection for you, huh?”
“I hadn’t thought about it being something God did.” Trey smiled with him at the thought. “Molly and I met freshman year and became best buds. I helped her through some things and was kind of trying to lead her to the faith. But my own issues popped up when Mom got sick and the stuff with my dad came out.” He sighed. “We ended up both going down the partying road.”
Lance nodded. “I know a little something about U-turns on wrong roads.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KENDRA ALIGHTED FROM THE CAR AT THE WORLD’S FAIR Pavilion, smiling at a gorgeous sunrise. She glanced around, scoping the possibilities for scenery and lighting, then bent back down through the window. “I think this’ll work, Lance. Come on.”
“Oh, you think so?” He looked amused. “It’s your shoot. Let’s do it.”
Kendra marched up the tiny incline with her equipment. She’d treated herself to a new camera yesterday, so she wouldn’t have to pester Lance for his. Every day she’d taken a few shots to learn something new. It only took minutes, which she could find even when she felt mostly crummy.
She’d planned to do the same today to play with her new toy. But when she woke up feeling good, she took it a step further, asking Lance if he’d join her on a little trip to Forest Park. She wanted to learn more about shooting people, and he would be her subject.
“I can’t believe you got me out here this early.” Lance trudged behind her.
“But it’s so beautiful this time of morning, and we beat the heat.” She glanced back. “And didn’t you say something about seizing the moments when I feel good?”
“Try seizing them midmorning,” he said, “or when I haven’t been up late editing photos.”
Kendra paused, assessing the location. “Oh yes, Miss Adrienne’s photo shoot.”
“Her pictures turned out really nice.”
“You know she likes you.”
“Adrienne?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Lance, get a clue.” Kendra looked through the lens, framing the shot. “You get home from the photo shoot, and minutes later she’s ringing the doorbell with Maggiano’s?” She looked over at him. “She likes you.”
“She felt bad because the shoot ran late.”
“Then she could’ve dropped it off. She brought carryout for two and wanted to eat with you.”
“Well, I hope she wasn’t disappointed when I had you come down to make it three,” Lance said. “It’s my policy not to be alone with a woman in the house like that.”
She eyed him. “How does that work, given that we’re in the house alone most of the time?”
“That’s an unusual circumstance, the way it happened,” he said. “And with your situation being what it is, and me wanting to help, it’s just a different type of thing.”
“Although I’m now thankful for your help”—she smiled—“you need to live your life. Why don’t you ask her on a date?”
“Where is this coming from?” Lance said. “You’re planning my love life now?”
“I saw the way she looked at you, plus she’s pretty, seems nice, church girl. Why not?”
“Your light is moving.” Lance cast a quick glance at the sun. “Are you paying attention?”
“Fine, I’ll leave it alone for now.” Kendra wagged her eyebrows. “Okay, what if you stand by this column right here, inside the portico?” She walked to it and looked up, checking the direction of light. “And I’ll stand over here, with the sun behind me. I want to get a few shots, close up and at a distance. How does that sound?”
“Try it and see what happens.”
“What about poses?”
He smiled. “What you got?”
“You’re not planning to make this easy, are you?” She bit her lip, trying a couple. “Maybe lean against the column, with one foot kind of like this.”
Lance got in position while she backed up, checking her settings. It would take awhile to get beyond the basics and develop style, but she’d perused enough photography blogs now to know what she was aiming for.
She brought him a little closer with the zoom lens and adjusted the settings. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are.”
“On three,” she said. “One, two—three!”
She checked the back of the camera immediately.
“Well?” Lance said. “How is it? Am I in focus?”
“You’re in focus. Framing looks good—got the rule of thirds going. The background is even blurred a little, but not as much as I’d like.”
She kept studying it, drawn by something else. Something about his pose, the angle of his head, maybe the lighting . . . and the way it shone on his honey-brown skin. She blew out a breath. The man was fine.
Kendra shook the thought away. “Okay,” she said, “I’m going to take a few in rapid succession.”
Lance carried Kendra’s camera bag across the grassy field, back to the car. They’d been all around the grounds of the pavilion and adjacent areas of the park, as Kendra saw one location after another that would make a good backdrop. But it became one too many when fatigue overtook her. Always, she was reminded of her limitations.
Lance slowed a little, looking at her. “I talked to your father last night.”
Kendra kept walking.
“I needed to ask him something. But it was weird because he’s your dad and doesn’t know you’re sick, doesn’t even know you’re home.”
She saw his gaze trained on her. “Am I supposed to comment? You know what happened.”
“But from what I understand,” Lance said, “that’s all in the past. He’s apologized and tried to reconcile.”
“Which might’ve worked had it been an affair only.” Kendra s
topped. “He had a child and kept it secret. And for it all to come out in my mom’s last months . . .” She continued on. “This from a so-called godly man committed to his family.”
“I know it was devastating.” Lance pulled her to a stop. “But Kendra, it’s not just a cliché—nobody’s perfect. We’re all vulnerable to sin. We do things we regret. Did you ever hear his side of things?”
“No,” Kendra said. “What I heard were my mother’s tears, and the pain of dealing with an illness and betrayal simultaneously. Plus having to deal with his lover.”
“What?” Lance said. “I didn’t know that.”
“That’s how my mom found out,” Kendra said. “This woman showed up at the house one day and decided to tell all.”
“Why?”
“Who knows? But I’m telling you, I think the stress of it all worsened Mom’s condition.”
They walked on to the car and got in.
Kendra fastened her seat belt. “So what did you have to ask Dad anyway?”
Lance started the car and backed out. “It’s what Cyd and I were meeting about last Sunday. We’re starting a weekly Bible study, thinking of it as food, fellowship, and faith. And I wanted to make sure your dad was okay with having it at the house.”
“What made you start it?”
He wound his way through the park. “Well, Pastor Lyles has been talking to me about a church-plant idea for Clayton, which I’m not feeling. In the midst of praying about it though, this came to me.”
“Why weren’t you feeling the church plant?”
He shrugged. “A lot of reasons. But for one, how would it look for me to pastor a church in Clayton, given my past?” He glanced at her. “And to be honest, I always felt like an outsider here. I couldn’t get my mind around the idea.”
Her eyes rested on him, and he glanced at her again. “What?”
“I think you would be an awesome pastor.”
His brows knit. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “A lot of reasons.”
“You’re funny. Give me one.”
“The way you care about people.”
Lance seemed to think on that. “I’ve never asked you . . . Why did you stop going to church?”
“Probably because it was easy,” Kendra said. “Being away at college, then law school, I never took time to find one. Then I started working all the time.”
“Did you miss it?”
“I’m sure this is the wrong answer, but not really. I’d been going to youth group, and the lessons were boring to me.” She nudged him. “See, you should’ve been the youth pastor back then. I’m sure I would’ve had a whole different experience.”
Lance pulled up to the house. “I was waiting for you to say you hated church or had a problem with God. But okay, one, you were busy”—he ticked it off on his fingers—“and two, youth group was wack.”
Kendra laughed. “It’s not that simple.” She stared vaguely. “I did some soul-searching after Trey confronted me. It kind of rocked me, which was why I had to go back and apologize.” She looked at Lance. “I realized how selfish I’ve been, how life’s been all about me. Even as I think more about your question, the main reason I probably didn’t go to church was because I wanted to live my own way. I could always return to God later.” Her own self-reflection grabbed her. “I guess my later is suddenly my now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LANCE WALKED INTO THE LOCAL STARBUCKS, LOOKING FOR ADRIENNE. She’d called after he returned from Forest Park to see if her photos were done, since he’d promised a rush job before the holiday. He spotted the waving hand, but he couldn’t have missed her regardless. She had a presence that drew the eye. He moved toward her table.
“Hey there.” He handed her the disc. “Your photos are on here. I focused my edits on the ones you wanted, but I also did light edits on the rest, just in case. I really think they turned out great.”
He meant it. Adrienne worked for a boutique public relations firm that wanted to feature her in a marketing package about the city, and he could see why. Her mocha skin; thick, coily, natural hair; and athletic shape made her an engaging subject.
Adrienne looked up at him, smiling. “I was so excited about your work that I told one of my friends to call you. She needs engagement photos.”
“I appreciate the referral,” Lance said. “Thank you.”
“Seriously, you’re amazing,” Adrienne said. “I forwarded the preview shots you sent last night to the team. They said it captured the exact mood they wanted.” She was hunched forward, animated. “Thanks again for your willingness to drive all around the city for the shoot.”
“No problem at all,” he said. “I’m glad everybody liked them.”
“I hope you’re not in a rush,” she said. “You should get some coffee or a cold drink and join me.”
“Thanks,” Lance said. “I was actually planning to head right back though.”
“Oh, come on, the holiday’s almost here.” Her smile was infectious. “Take a few minutes to relax.”
Lance relented, smiling. “I guess a few minutes won’t hurt.”
He ordered a tall latte and returned, sitting across from her.
“So we talked about my work at the PR firm yesterday,” Adrienne said. “What about you? Is photography your main job?”
“It is,” he said, “and I’m on staff part-time at the church.”
“I love Living Word,” she said. “I moved to St. Louis last year, and my roomie told me about it. How long have you been there?”
“About ten years.”
“And you’re from St. Louis?”
“Born and raised.”
She leaned in with a pause. “I was trying to figure you out yesterday.”
“How so?”
“You’re like, all business,” she said. “You answer a question and won’t volunteer much more. But I know there’s a lot more, because a person with that much creative passion is usually a deep thinker and a deep feeler.”
“Wow. All that, huh?”
“See.” She pointed at him. “See how little you said. You’re a mystery to me now.” She laughed. “ ‘How to unlock Lance Alexander.’ ”
He chuckled. “I’m really not that deep. Trust me.”
She sipped her berry drink. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but the woman you share a house with . . . Are you two in a relationship?”
“Kendra? It’s complicated, but no.”
“Not the ‘complicated’ thing.”
“Not that kind of complicated.”
They laughed together.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That question was probably way out of line, but I was wondering.”
“Nah, it’s cool.”
“It’s just refreshing to meet someone who’s God-fearing, passionate about what he does, handsome but not full of himself . . . I’m sure that tells you the type of men I’ve come across.”
“I’m sure I’ve been those men.”
A brow went up. “Aaand he stops right there.”
Lance sipped, offering a faint smile. It wasn’t the first time a woman had charged him with being cryptic. It was his default setting.
“What are you doing for the Fourth?” she asked.
“I’m not sure yet.” It depended on how Kendra was feeling, which was unpredictable, and what Trey was doing, also unpredictable.
“Well, my roomie has this big cookout every Fourth of July,” Adrienne said. “You may have heard about it. A lot of people from Living Word come.”
Lance nodded. “Darrin told me about it.”
“I hope you can come by for a little while at least. I really do think you’re an interesting person to get to know.”
“Thanks for the invite,” Lance said. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind.” He stood, extending his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Adrienne.”
She shook it, holding his gaze. “Likewise, Mr. Alexander.”
Questions flooded his
mind the minute he left. What was wrong with him? Yes, he was guarded. Yes, he aimed for propriety. But he usually had to fight himself to do it, especially with a beautiful woman—a beautiful woman who, he now knew, was clearly interested. Temptation would do its dance, and the old Lance would show up, with old memories of what it was like when he had no boundaries. Why did he feel none of that, not even an urge to flirt?
And why, as he hopped into his car for the short ride home, were his thoughts so quickly shifting to Kendra?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KENDRA WRESTLED THROUGH THE NIGHT WITH SHOOTING PAINS in her breast—her dimpled, hard, reddish-pink breast. Sleep was hard every night, impossible on the swollen side. But the pain last night drove her mad. Mad at her breast. Mad at cancer. Mad at Derek. Mad that she wasn’t in Paris. And mad that she had to be mad in bed alone.
Sometime around seven she woke again, mad still when she saw her camera across the room and had no energy to use it. And mad when she realized it was the Fourth of July, and she couldn’t enjoy it. Eight days out from her first chemo treatment, and it had to be really working—because parts of her felt on fire.
Tears slid down the sides of her face. I can’t do this. God, I can’t do this. I’ve never been in this much pain. I’ve never felt so alone. I’m supposed to be married right now, and it still hurts that I’m not. Everything is wrong.
Kendra reached for a tissue, and her hand hit against something. Shifting a little, she opened her eyes and squinted at it. A Bible? She brought it near and, in the soft light of morning, saw a sticky note on the cover.
Got you this gift. Three a.m. seemed the perfect time to give it.
She’d texted Lance in the night, when the pain had become unbearable, asking him to pray. But she didn’t think he’d get her message until morning. She stared at his handwriting. He’d not only gotten it but sneaked this in without her knowing. It was pretty, too, with a soft cover of olive-green leather.
Moving from her back to her good side, she propped herself on an elbow and flipped through. When had she last opened a Bible? She’d Googled popular wedding verses and read them online as she planned the ceremony. But Bible in hand . . . It had been so long.
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