“No. I used to live here.” Ivan followed her up the steps to the porch. The pine boards looked brand new. Stained and silent as he stepped on them.
She fixed them.
“No wonder the owner is letting you rent this place for dirt cheap.”
Dirt cheap.
Somehow those words didn’t sit well with Ivan. Maybe it was a mindset. He’d have to fix that sort of thinking. Pastor Gonzalez said on Sunday that his confidence needed to be in Christ and not in his circumstances.
When Meg opened the front door, Ivan didn’t hear a thing. The door no longer creaked. He followed her into the house.
And just stared.
The entire interior had been renovated, but every room was empty.
“Empty, this house rents for two thousand a month, but you can get it fully furnished for four if you like.”
“Who would rent it fully furnished?”
“Usually corporate executives on retreats or long-term vacationers. People come and go all the time.” The rental manager stepped farther into the house. “I can’t believe you’re getting this place for one-tenth the cost. Are you a family friend?”
“Something like that.” Technically he was only renting a room, but that was a joke. He’d get the whole house. The living room was bright and airy and overlooked the butterfly garden. He could envision Grandma Yun sitting in her rocker reading her Bible by the window.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he knew better than to weep over the past. Grandma Yun was with her Otto now in heaven, where the splendor and the glory of God were above and beyond anything they could ever have on earth.
And his grandparents were both well now. No walkers, no weak hearts, no titanium hips. Just pleasant days in the sunshine of God’s eternal and unlimited love.
Pleasant days.
Ivan’s thoughts went to his old studio downstairs. What had Brinley done to the basement space, he wondered? He’d have to find that out later as Meg led him to the kitchen.
The kitchen. Wow. Ivan couldn’t believe his eyes. The back wall had been pushed out and this was a huge kitchen with shiny appliances. Right in the middle of it was a kitchen island the size of a small car. He could envision a family utilizing this space.
A family?
Mine.
Would Brinley want to live here? He felt inadequate all of a sudden. Renting would have to do for now, but someday he wanted to own his own house. Sure, it was a steal at a couple of hundred dollars a month, but a warning niggled his mind. He would be renting from Brinley. He hated that dependency especially after what her brother had said to him. He hated owing anyone anything. Well, anyone but God.
Trust God.
Was he trusting God now?
“Do you want to see the rest of the house?” Meg asked. The many keys jangled in her hands.
“Yes.” This wasn’t Grandma’s house anymore, not the way it had been.
Brinley must have gotten this house it went into foreclosure. Or perhaps she had bought it directly from the bank. He hadn’t known who had bought the house because the bank had taken over at that time and he was out of the equation.
He wondered why Brinley had bought the house.
Was it her memories of spending time here? She liked old things. So maybe she was keeping history alive.
Meg’s phone rang. “Why don’t you look around on your own? I’ll be on the porch.”
“Sounds good.” Ivan wandered to the back of the house. Standing at the doorframe to what used to be Grandma Yun’s room but bigger, he realized it was now a library or another sitting room. Through the tall windows he could see the grove of live oaks behind the house. They seemed closer to him now as if the entire back of the house had been pushed out.
He stood at the window for a moment, remembering his childhood days of playing with wooden swords and towels for capes among the live oaks and running in and out of the fort that would’ve been over there in a small clearing.
Sun rays peeked through overhanging oak branches, making shifting designs on the green grass in that space where he and his siblings had spent many seasons.
Maybe I’ll build a fort again.
For my kids.
Our kids.
Brinley filled his mind and a warmth filled his heart. Full of love and peace and joy. “Lord, why are You so good to me?”
Yet those warning signs still fired off in his mind. He was about to go downstairs to the basement studio when Meg returned to the foyer.
“Ready to sign the rental papers?” She had a silver pen with her.
“Would you give me a minute? I’m going to take a look at the basement.”
“Sure thing. It’s finished.” Meg began texting as Ivan dashed to the door at the top of the stairs.
The empty basement had been repainted. All the walls were cream and the window frames were white. The glass panes looked new and sunshine came in. The old, stained carpet was no more. In its place was stone flooring of some sort, looking nice and clean in the late morning sun.
Ivan could still remember where he had stood when he played most of Pleasant Days for Brinley right after she had brazenly fed him with half a cookie. It seemed long ago now, but it had only been last Christmas.
He remembered finishing the composition. It was still in his laptop, untouched these four months. He couldn’t have played it with a broken wrist. In the last four months he hadn’t lifted a violin or a bow to test his wrist again since the day he buried Grandma Yun.
That chapter of his life was over.
Or is it?
He flexed his left hand under the brace. It wasn’t hurting as much as it used to. Vittorio, the therapist, had said before that his wrist needed time to heal. The broken bones had fused and his wrist was somewhat functional now. The tendons no longer twitched, but he still couldn’t turn his wrist with its original range of motions, and still couldn’t play as much music as he’d like.
Forget Paganini and Rimsky-Korsakov and Vivaldi.
I’m done.
Or am I?
After all, Brinley had said she didn’t care if he never played the violin again. Still, there was that promise he’d made her. Well, we’ll cross that bridge if she ever got her 1698 Damaris Brooks Stradivarius violin back. Somehow he doubted that would ever happen.
For now he had a new job at Matt’s thrift shop. He appreciated Matt letting him off work an hour early today so he could come here. But it might be all for naught.
A couple of knocks on the door at the top of the stairs echoed down to him. “Mr. McMillan, I have another appointment to go to. Have you decided?”
Lord, she wants to know now. Should I rent this house or not?
Until he heard from God clearly, Ivan knew he’d better not make any rash decisions. He had learned his lesson. What had Grandma Yun told him growing up?
Don’t do anything until you’re sure you’ve heard from God.
Radio silence right now. Ivan knew it wasn’t necessarily a big old no from God. It could be that this wasn’t the time for him to make this decision. But two hundred dollars a month was only one-tenth of a way smaller apartment. What if this was his halfway house? What if this was God’s provision for him at this time in his life?
At peace, Ivan knew what he had to do. He reached the top of the stairs, where Meg was waiting, clicking her pen. “What kind of rental agreement did Brin—uh, the owner—say I can look at?”
Meg smiled. “Brinley has told me to expect the unexpected.”
“She has?”
“We have three different rental options. You can rent it monthly, biannually, or yearly. She told me to bring all options.”
She knows me well.
“Let’s take it one month at a time,” Ivan said. He wasn’t sure where he’d be six months from now. He hoped that Brinley would still be in the picture, but he wouldn’t be able to tell until they met for lunch Friday.
“She said that’s probably what you’d want.”
Ivan was
amused. “What else did Brin say?”
“She said to make sure you know there’s a brand-new dishwasher in the kitchen.”
“Is there?” How could he forget her drying the plates and silverware after church one Sunday in December? Brinley had probably never done dishes before in her entire life. Yet she had helped him without complaining.
What a sweet spirit she had even before she met Jesus.
I have wronged her, Lord. How can I ever forgive myself?
Just like that the answer came to his heart.
Because Christ has forgiven you at the cross so long ago.
Those were based on Grandma Yun’s words, her tireless years of trying to impart Biblical truth to her grandchildren.
A rebuke. A reproach. A gentle reminder.
Go and sin no more.
Chapter Sixty-Six
At exactly noon, Ivan had been sitting for five minutes on the steps of the gazebo on the grassy grounds of St. Simon’s Lighthouse, waiting for Brinley to show up. She was late and he was beginning to worry though Matt had given him until half past one o’clock for lunch. Tourists milled about, oblivious to the pitter-patter in his chest, the twinge in his left wrist, and and the quiet tumbling of the antique store find in his pocket.
He flexed his left hand, stretching and retracting his fingers. The pain in his wrist had decreased, but slowly. He thanked God for his health insurance from his new job at the thrift shop. He could be working there a while.
Twice this week he’d gone to duke it out with Vittorio the occupational therapist. He was glad to have his reluctant patient back even though he had complained that a whole month of self-therapy didn’t cut it. He made sure that Ivan knew it by making his wrist work harder than usual.
Ironically, Ivan had welcomed the new regimen. Motivated to get well, to be able to return to functional life, to be two-handed again, he pushed himself harder and harder through the exercises all week. Every day. Several times a day. To the point that his left hand was now able to—
“Hi.”
Ivan had no idea how long she had been standing there.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Brinley sat down next to Ivan on the steps.
It was the same question he had asked her at the after-party that December evening.
Has it been that long?
“Scales,” Ivan said. “I was thinking of being able to play scales now. Thank God.”
“See, God is healing you.”
“Yes.”
“And slides?” Brinley looked into his eyes.
He had caught her staring at him like that a few times back when they were together.
It seemed she liked to search his eyes. Not sure what she was seeing now. It was a partly cloudy day with no sun in his eyes.
“Portamento? I need more time to work on that, but I’m getting there.” Ivan wrapped his arms around Brinley. He didn’t care that there were people around them, walking about, taking pictures at the water’s edge and around the St. Simon’s Lighthouse in front of them. He was comfortable here with Brinley.
Too comfortable to move.
“Once my fingers can curl and slide, then we can work on the rest of it.” Ivan wasn’t going to tell her now, but his carrot on a stick was that Air on the G String. Bach would be pleased that his little number was therapeutic.
But what Ivan did want to tell her today would take a whole lot of courage. He prayed quickly for God to infuse him with the right words to say.
“I’m happy that you’re working your way back to the violin.” Brinley sat closer.
“With God’s help, I’m going to try my best and see where it goes. If I can play the violin again, I’ll do it. If not, then God’s will be done.”
“Yun had said that God’s will is best for us.”
“She was right.” Ivan breathed evenly. “I’ve stopped complaining. It was a bad testimony to show my OT, you, people at church, and the world.”
“Yeah. When the bottom falls out, the Christian freaks out.”
“That was me, but not anymore.” He mustered up his courage. Here goes. “I love you, Brinley Brooks. Will you marry me?”
The pause was too long. Then he heard a sigh.
“No.”
This is bad. “Why not?”
“You’re exasperating,” Brinley said.
“I’m in love.”
“Your life is upside down.”
“I’m in love.” He kissed her cheek.
“Your faith is very weak.”
“My love is strong.”
“I don’t think so. You ran away and hid, Ivan.”
“I’ve learned my lesson.” He kissed her earlobe. “So marry me? For better or for worse? For richer or poorer?”
Brinley didn’t respond.
“In sickness and in health?”
Brinley still didn’t say a word.
“Forsaking all others? Just the two of us, Brin, for the rest of our lives. Marry me?” He paused and expelled a breath. “I asked three times. At some point you have to say yes or no so we can move on, you know?”
He waited.
And waited.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll call a law firm tomorrow and have them draw up a prenup.” Ivan seemed resigned. “I don’t want your money. I want you.”
“That complication never crossed my mind,” Brinley said.
“What then?”
“I need an affirmation that God wants us to be together.”
“You want to flip the fleece this way and that? Better not test God too much. I think it’s pretty clear He brought us together.” Ivan held Brinley’s hands. “Would you believe that I knew it was you the night we walked from the guesthouse to your parents’ cottage, but I fought it?”
“I knew it was you too, but not that night. Maybe later. Is that our affirmation from God? That we both know we’re meant for each other?”
“Brin, I have nothing to give you but my love.”
“Before I was saved, I had everything but love. Now I have God’s love. Yours would be icing on the cake.”
“We love because He first loved us.” Ivan had never been surer. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up every morning hugging you and seeing your smile. I know you love me too.”
Ivan worried a tad when Brinley didn’t respond. He decided to keep on talking.
“You show your love by giving me stuff and doing things for me. Don’t think for a second that I didn’t know you paid my medical bills, bought back all the music manuscripts I thought I had to sell, kept in touch with Matt to make sure I was okay, and prayed for me, not to mention all the other stuff you’ve done for me and Grandma when she was alive, from driving her home from the party and all the other good deeds too many to enumerate.”
“God is good, Ivan.”
“Indeed He is.” He patted her hand.
Brinley rubbed his left arm. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“I figured!” Ivan’s heart warmed. Gently, Ivan cupped her face with both hands, slid his right hand around her neck, fingers going through her hair. He leaned toward her, forehead touching hers. “Brin, marry me. Make me the happiest man alive.”
“Yes, but…”
Ivan’s jaw dropped. “Yes, but what?”
“Promise me you’ll live on a budget the rest of your life.”
What in the world? I’m trying to get engaged and she wants me to do what?
“I’m below the poverty line.”
“So what, Ivan? Everybody needs a budget. As you earn more, your budget gets bigger. Do you want me to help you with it?”
“No. No. My friend Matt is pretty good at these things. I’ll ask him.”
“Fair enough. You promise?”
“All right. I promise to budget and live on it, so help me God. Marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?” Ivan couldn’t believe his ears.
“It has been yes,
but you knew that.” Brinley lifted her lips to find his.
Ivan didn’t want to let go, but the rumbling in his stomach was a wake-up call.
Brinley pulled back from the embrace. “Let’s eat before you die of starvation.”
Ivan dug into the brown bag next to him and pulled out a sandwich with the letter ‘R’ on the wrapper. “Your Reuben. Shall we say grace?”
Brinley nodded and they bowed their heads.
“Dear Lord, thank You for this food You have provided for the nourishment of our bodies,” Ivan prayed. “Thank You for not letting us go hungry. Thank You for Brinley, who can share this lunch hour with me. May our conversation bring glory to You and edify us both. In Jesus’ Name I pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” Brinley started eating her Reuben.
Next to him, Ivan dug into his Cuban sandwich. “Want some of this?”
“No, thanks.” Brinley wiped her lips with a paper napkin.
“Oh, I forgot something.” Ivan put down his sandwich, wiped his hands carefully, and dug around in his pocket for the ring. At first he couldn’t find it, and then he touched it at the bottom of the pocket.
Thank God.
Boy, was he glad he had patched up that hole in there.
Fingers tremulous, Ivan nervously placed the sapphire ring on Brinley’s ring finger. He had bought it for a rock-bottom price at the thrift shop. A natural blue sapphire cabochon set on a silver ring. It looked like the work of a hobbyist, someone with a lapidary wheel. Maybe a rockhound, maybe a gem collector. Only God knew. The history of it was lost since it had arrived in a box of old things anonymously at the thrift shop drop-off door.
“A bit loose. We can get it adjusted,” Ivan said.
“No worries. I love it.” Brinley stretched her fingers in the sun. The noonday sunlight bounced off the sapphire. “In the eighteenth century, they used sapphires and emeralds more than diamonds for engagement rings.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“This is very pretty. Love the sapphire. Love this blue.”
“I do too.” Ivan thought the ring looked understated on Brinley’s finger, but then it wouldn’t draw attention. He waited to see if Brinley would ask where he had gotten it. He’d tell her if she did. Well, she didn’t.
Share with Me: Seaside Chapel Book 1 Page 38