And then her water broke.
For those few seconds in that rainy grocery store parking lot, those words swirled through Rebecca’s head. A good-looking guy had asked her out. Nothing big, just a drink in a public place. She could do this. Abby was right. Nothing good would happen if she didn’t take a risk. This was a small one. So, she had said yes.
And it was a great date. She hadn’t even realized until she’d started to drive home that night he had called her pretty—right before she steamrolled over his side of the conversation and blathered on about the dates her dad had set up for her. So, why was this so nerve-wracking?
Rebecca inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth.
You can do this, Rebecca. She tried to steady her finger as it scrolled through her contacts until it landed on Chris’s name again and hit ‘call.’
***
Hearing from Rebecca had brightened Chris’s morning. Was she as eager to see him again as he was to see her? The homemade muffins she made would be an added bonus.
Chris gathered the last of the camping gear from his parents’ garage and organized it for packing onto his motorcycle.
Alan emerged from the house where he had been discussing wedding reception details just as Rebecca’s car pulled up.
“Who’s that?” Alan asked.
Chris hoped he planned on heading home, not staying to find out. Alan’s hair hung over one eye, mussed to perfection, and his strong but stocky frame was loose and relaxed in his oversized tee shirt and sloppy cargo shorts. The typical picture of nonchalance.
“Rebecca.”
“The brown-eyed beauty you took on two amazing dates, Rebecca?” He made air quotes around the word “amazing,” as if he didn’t believe Chris’s assessment.
“The one and only.” Chris set aside the small camp stove he held and headed to the end of the driveway. He opened Rebecca’s car door. “Good morning.”
“Hey, there.” She stepped out carrying a large basket covered with a beige tea towel. It smelled like fresh berries and cinnamon. “For you.”
“Thank you. They smell delicious.” He took the basket from her and walked her toward Alan. Being that he hardly dated, Chris had never introduced a girl to Alan. He didn’t know whether his brother would try to make a fool of him or not. It wouldn’t be hard.
“So, Alan, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, my brother, Alan."
“Good to meet you.” Alan gestured toward the basket. "Mind if I try one? I haven't had anything homemade since Jamie moved in. These look amazing.”
Rebecca thanked him for the compliment and turned back to Chris.
“Jamie’s a lousy cook,” he offered by way of explanation as the crumbs gathered on his brother’s tee shirt.
“Chris.” He couldn’t miss the gentle scolding in her voice.
“No, it’s true,” Alan said. “Jamie says it herself. She can’t even make pasta. It’s either crunchy or gummy. I’ve got six takeout places on speed dial.”
Having exhausted that line of conversation—Chris couldn’t disagree since Jamie had more than her fair share of culinary disasters—he hoped Alan would leave and give them a few moments alone. Instead, Alan leaned against his car and crossed his ankles.
Jerking his head toward the street, Chris hoped he’d get the idea. His brother smiled, and Chris knew that he got the message all right, but he refused to comply.
“Get lost,” he mouthed, but Alan smiled and didn’t budge.
So that’s how he wants to play it. Fine.
Scowling at his brother, he placed a hand lightly on Rebecca’s back and guided her into the yard. “Excuse us,” he tossed over his shoulder.
Chris glanced down to ensure they didn’t step in one of the little “presents” the neighbor’s chocolate lab had left in the yard.
“Sorry I’m not going to be around this weekend. I’ve had this overnight planned for months.”
“No problem.” She widened the space between them a fraction, and his hand fell away from her back.
Her gaze quickly dropped to her feet. He hoped her disappointment matched his. He had badgered his mom about moving that dinner, but she was adamant.
“Where are you camping?”
“Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. Have you been there?”
She shook her head, a wistful expression on her face. “No, can’t say that I have.”
He stopped and faced Rebecca. Beyond her Alan gestured to him and made hand signals. Chris squinted and tried to make it out. A little cross sign and then his index finger. Alan said something, too. Not much of a lip reader, Chris needed four tries to get it. Alan was saying, “Plus one.”
Chris knew what he was asking. He and Jamie had been hounding him for weeks about whom he was bringing to the wedding. He had thought of asking Rebecca, but they hadn’t known each other long, and he didn’t know how she’d react. He’d be introducing her for inspection to nearly all his living relatives. Not to mention, as best man he would have to leave her on her own part of the time, which would make him feel guilty, since she wouldn’t know another soul there. Still, if he didn’t ask her that would mean he wouldn’t see her for two weekends in a row. He could try a weeknight, but his schedule varied. Maybe he should ask and let her decide. At least it would get Alan off his back. Chris refocused on Rebecca, who glanced around the yard.
“I want to ask you something. I know we’ve only been on a couple dates, so I understand if you want to pass on this. No hard feelings. I don’t have a date for Alan’s wedding. Since you’ve never been to a wedding and all, would you like to go with me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. That was good.
Movement in the distance drew his attention. Alan walked toward them. Geez, the guy lacked patience.
“Hey, Chris,” Alan said, “Have a good trip. I’ve got to go. I’m heading out of town, too.” Then to Rebecca he said, “It was nice meeting you.”
Rebecca returned the sentiment, and Alan turned to leave.
“Where are you headed?” Chris called.
“Going to see Dave Matthews in Maryland tonight,” he yelled over his shoulder before heading to his car.
Chris took hold of Rebecca’s hand, and walked back toward the driveway. Alan better not have run off with his muffins. “Alan follows Dave Matthews all over the country.”
“Who’s Dave Matthews?”
She never heard of the Dave Matthews Band? They’d been around forever. “You know, ’Tripping Billies,’ ‘Dancing Nancies,’ ‘Ants Marching’?”
She arched her brow a bit, squinted, and shook her head. Negative. Did this poor girl live in a cave?
“Well, they’re a rock’n’roll band. They have a big following. Lots of people, like Alan, travel all over for their concerts. They’re known for their live shows. I’ll have to play one of their songs for you some time. You’ve probably heard them and don’t know it.” The look on her face made him doubt his last statement.
“Maybe. I don’t listen to music much, but when I do it’s usually contemporary Christian. Sometimes a little bit of country. Or ‘new’ country I guess they call it.”
They made it back to her car, and Chris was relieved to see the muffins were still alongside his motorcycle where he had left them. Alan had better not have taken any more than the couple he snagged when Rebecca first arrived.
“See you later.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. After she left, he texted Alan.
Plus one. Rebecca Rhodes.
His phone buzzed with Alan’s response.
Atta boy.
Tucking his phone in his pocket, Chris ambled up the driveway and entered his parents’ house through the garage, hoping to snag a bottle of water before he left. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed some spring water from the bottom of the door.
“Hey, honey, who was that out there?”
Chris bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Mom didn’t miss a thing. She had probably been watching him
and Rebecca the whole time.
He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink of water as he closed the refrigerator door. “Rebecca Rhodes. We’ve gone on a couple of dates. She brought me some muffins she baked last night.”
“Oh, how nice.” She straightened the napkins in their holder on the counter as an obvious pretense for being in the kitchen. “She likes to bake?”
“Yeah, she does. She’s good at it, too.” He waited for the next question. There would be another.
“So, where did you meet?”
“Rieser’s Market.” He capped the bottle and leaned against the counter. It would be easy to get irritated with her questions, but he reminded himself that she only asked because she cared. The older he got and the more people he met, the more he realized how lucky—no, how blessed—he and Alan were. Their parents had been married nearly three decades.
Mom had a strong will and a short temper, and he’d witnessed plenty of arguments between her and Dad over the years, but just as many heartfelt apologies. Mom and Dad were still very much in love, and his mom wanted that lasting love for her sons.
“When do I get to meet her?” Mom pushed the napkins aside and slid her glasses up into her short hair as she focused on him.
At least he had a firm answer for her. “At Alan’s wedding. She just agreed to be my date.”
The look of satisfaction on his mother’s face amused him. He crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. I’m doing an overnight at Shenandoah. I’ll see you when I get back.”
She pulled him into a hug. “I’ll be here assembling table centerpieces. Be careful on that death machine.”
Ah, the obligatory swipe at the motorcycle. Now the conversation was complete. “Goodbye, Mom.”
***
Chris assembled his backpacking tent in about five minutes. After putting the rest of his belongings in the bear-proof metal box at his campsite, he tightened the laces on his hiking boots and pored over a park map deciding on a hike that would keep him away from the campground most of the day. He settled on a circuit hike that would take him past a couple of old family cemeteries and the remains of a small logging village.
Returning to the campground late in the evening, he grilled some hot dogs he had picked up at the camp store and warmed a can of chili over the fire. Grilling made even the off-brand wieners savory, but the chili was bland with chewy bits of mystery meat that sat in his belly like a brick. Although still early, Chris was ready to call it a night after all the day’s exertion. He leaned back in his camp chair and enjoyed the fire while watching the campers around him.
On his right, two young children blew bubbles while their parents grilled dinner. Farther down the hill from them, a middle-aged couple and a teenager gathered around a picnic table playing a card game. Directly downhill from him, a young couple about his age or a few years older talked and laughed. The woman sat on the man’s lap, and his arms encircled her. To his left, a large, Mennonite family prepared their dinner. Their constant chatter punctuated with laughter made Chris smile.
Loneliness was something he’d never experienced before while camping. He nearly always camped alone. He had gone with some buddies a few times, but those were exceptions, not the rule. In fact, he preferred to go alone. The peace, the solitude, and being outside refreshed and invigorated him. For the first time, he didn’t relish the solitude. It felt somehow deficient.
Gazing at the lovey-dovey couple still wrapped up in each other's arms, he wondered if Rebecca liked the outdoors. He imagined her sitting in the firelight with him, her hair shining as the flames lit her face. What would it be like to sit here with Rebecca, talking and relaxing?
He inhaled the scent of burning campfires and grilled hamburgers and read through Day and Overnight Hikes in Shenandoah National Park until his eyes grew tired. The sun hadn’t completely set, but as he watched the couple down the hill retire to their tent, the woman pulling the man by the hand, he thought going to bed might not be a bad idea.
A pair of birds rustling in the leaves woke him at dawn. After a couple of protein bars, juice, and some coffee he picked up at the lodge, he packed his gear and set out on a short summit hike before loading everything back on his bike and heading for home. The next time he came back, he hoped it would be with Rebecca.
***
“I don’t know, Abby. It’s a little clingy.” Rebecca loved the dusty rose-colored, A-line dress Abby had her try on, but it was so different from the plain, serviceable outfits she usually wore that she had a hard time feeling comfortable in it. It was a simple gown, but it did flatter her figure.
“Don’t worry. Yes, he will see that you have nice hips for birthing and full breasts for nursing babies, but you’re all covered up, nothing’s too tight, no bare shoulders. You’ll look elegant and sexy but not the least bit trampy.”
Rebecca stepped away from the mirrors and back toward the changing room. A pair of giddy teens took her place at the mirror, admiring themselves in prom dresses that clung to them like plastic wrap. Even Abby, who had worn her share of scandalous dresses to college formals, raised a brow at the slit that traveled to the top of the taller girl’s thigh. Rebecca blocked out the sound of their giggles and the cloying fragrance of their perfumes and refocused on her task. She’d need to get a pair of matching shoes, too. Being that she was the best man’s date, people were going to notice her. She didn’t want to embarrass Chris. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s perfect, Rebecca. Really. You’re going to knock his socks off.”
“I really like him, Abby.” She didn’t know how much she should share with Abby. To call her a loose cannon was an understatement. She could imagine introducing Chris to Abby and her asking him if he had any communicable diseases or mental health disorders. She was that kind of crazy.
“I can tell, and I’m glad. It’s about time you met someone normal outside Daddy’s web of weirdoes.” She took Rebecca’s hand in a gentle gesture uncharacteristic of Abby’s usual brashness. “Rebecca, relax. The dress is perfect, and even if it weren’t, any man should consider himself lucky to have you on his arm.”
Abby didn’t hug. Rebecca knew that, but she couldn’t resist. Her sister had said just the right thing. “I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too, Becca.”
3
Good Good Time
Alan, Chris, and the groomsmen stood, and Rebecca realized the wedding was about to begin. Chris’s gaze searched the crowd and when it rested on her, he smiled and winked. She smiled in return and then slid down in her seat as three young women with bare shoulders, ample bosoms, and elaborate updos turned to see where he’d directed that smile. Old girlfriends?
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She liked Chris. A lot. But a wedding three dates in may not have been wise. Chris knew everyone here it seemed. And she knew no one but him.
When they arrived at the reception, she stuck close to his side, and thankfully he made every effort to see that she didn’t feel out of place. He either held her hand or slipped his arm around her waist. Every time someone stopped to talk to him, Chris introduced her. When the conversation lulled he always had something to add so that she wasn’t left standing there like a fool.
Rebecca traced a line in the condensation on her champagne flute while she waited for Chris to rejoin her after some photos. She had never tasted champagne before tonight. Her dad hadn’t found much cause for celebration in their home. She felt like celebrating tonight though. Chris liked how she looked in her dress. What word did he use? Exquisite. He said she looked exquisite. She smiled when she remembered the dreamy look on his face as he greeted her in the receiving line after the ceremony and introduced her to his parents.
She took another sip of the champagne. She had learned three things from Chris’s toast to Alan and Jamie. First, Alan was considered the fun-loving, wild brother whose engagement last year surprised everyone, while Chris was the shy and steady one. Second, their parent
s, especially their father, had a tremendous positive influence on both of them, and their sons loved them deeply. Finally, it was obvious to everyone in the room that Chris exuded an irrepressible charm not born of smoothness or sophistication, but derived from sincerity and authenticity.
After their meal and the requisite bridal party dance, she and Chris ended up at a table for ten in the rear of the hotel ballroom. The guests rotated from time to time, but it was a continuous series of cousins and friends of Chris and Alan and their wives or girlfriends. Chris always had a drink in front of him. He threw back the shots with the other guys at the table, maybe three in all, and then switched to beers. He took his time with them, and she guessed he only had a couple over the two hours they sat there.
Just the presence of alcohol made Rebecca nervous, the bubbly champagne she enjoyed notwithstanding. Her dad had never allowed a drop of it in their house. Still, although everyone at the table relaxed and had a good time, no one seemed drunk. They laughed a little harder at the jokes than she did, but not one person had said or done anything inappropriate. Twice Chris had offered to get her a glass of wine or a mixed drink, but when she said, “No, thank you. A ginger ale would be great,” he didn’t push her the way some people did.
Chris whispered in her ear. “I’m tired of sitting. Are you ready to dance?”
She knew it would come up. It was a wedding after all. She just hadn’t decided ahead of time how she would handle it. “I can’t dance.”
Chris smiled, and she noticed that little dimple in his left cheek. “Neither can I, but it’ll be fun. Pretty please. For me.”
If she wasn’t careful, those blue eyes would have her saying yes to all sorts of things she had no business doing. “I’ve never danced. My dad discouraged it.”
“Well, I’d be honored to be your first partner.”
She didn’t want to ruin his evening or his memories of his brother’s wedding, so at the risk of public humiliation she relented. “Okay. But don’t expect much.”
Stay With Me Page 3