“That was six years ago.”
“What happened?”
“I changed.”
“How?”
“I just did.”
She waited for more. When he didn’t speak, she pursed her lips. “You’re stalling.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
Leaning forward, she laid her hand on his biceps, her fingers as gentle as a bird landing on a branch. There was something powerful in her touch, something more than what had come out of the Berkeley box. In college, they’d been friends and lovers. With Julia’s new faith, they had the potential to be husband and wife, but only if Zeke could find his spiritual footing. Looking at Julia now, he very much wanted to find it . . . if he could.
“You win, Jules.” He pulled back and nudged the Turtle named Michelangelo, the youngest and least serious of the brothers, away from the others. “When I went back to Chile, I wasn’t the same person who left for college.”
“We all change.”
“I sure did.” Sighing, he indicated the Bible. “Looking back, it started even before I met you. Every time something went wrong at St. John’s, I took it as a sign that I wasn’t doing enough. Intellectually, I knew I couldn’t solve every problem, but I felt compelled to try. And I did. In Chile, I tried to work with my dad again, but every day was harder than the one before it. When I finally told my parents I’d changed my mind about going into ministry, my mom understood but my dad didn’t.”
“I can imagine.”
“Yeah, he was pretty upset.” Zeke made air quotes, then spoke in his dad’s booming tone. “‘I’m disappointed in you, son.’”
“Ouch.”
“I got angry too. We had a terrible fight, but I couldn’t pretend anymore. I was sick of trying to be perfect, and I was sick of feeling guilty for failing. But it’s even more confusing than that. Deep down I didn’t really feel guilty for anything—except for not feeling guilty.”
A dazed look crossed her face. “That is confusing.”
His gaze drifted back to the box of old toys. “You’d understand if you knew my dad. When I told him I wanted to go into business instead of ministry, he said I was letting God down. That Jesus had died for my sins and it was my duty to use my gifts to lead others to Christ. And it is. I believe that. But I was tired of trying to live up to that calling.”
She thought a moment. “That sounds like burnout.”
“Maybe. But how do you burn out on a God who loves you enough to die for you?”
“I don’t know.” Looking down, she picked a fleck of newspaper off her skirt. “I’m still new at this. I just know that God loves us.”
A fresh heaviness dragged on his lungs. “I hope you never feel like I do now, because it’s a lonely place to be. I haven’t talked to God in a long time. I haven’t prayed, read the Bible, or been to church. I’m not proud of myself for it, but I can’t live a lie.”
How could someone with Zeke’s deep faith lose sight of God? Julia didn’t understand. With all the pressures in her life, she didn’t dare loosen her grip on her new beliefs. She made mistakes every day, battled with doubt, and sinned like every human being, but she knew in the most broken parts of her heart that God loved her the way she loved Max.
Zeke opened the shoebox she’d closed earlier and lifted out a G.I. Joe with a missing arm. He set it down by the Turtles then shook his head. “Back in Berkeley, I had all the answers. But then I met you.” He looked at her with a wistful smile. “Do you remember playing Jenga with the crowd from Bread on the Water?”
“Sure,” she said. “Game nights were a lot of fun.”
“My life was a lot like Jenga. Every time I messed up, it was like pulling out another block. The tower finally collapsed. Our relationship was one of the blocks, but it wasn’t the final one that made the tower fall. The tower fell because I stopped caring.”
Julia was in way over her head. “Maybe you should talk to George.”
“Not if I can help it.” Zeke dropped the G.I. Joe a little too hard. “I love the guy, but we come from different planets when it comes to Christianity.”
“But God’s the same.”
Zeke gave a defeated shake his head. “It’s okay, Jules. You can’t help me.”
“I could try.”
Ignoring her, he lifted another shoebox from the carton and opened it to reveal a tangle of Transformers. Julia’s brother used to play with those, and so had she. With a few twists of a person’s wrist, a robot became a bulldozer. Looking at the toys now, she saw a connection to Zeke and God. A Transformer didn’t change itself; it took a greater intelligence to move the pieces. Zeke had lost his faith because he thought the robot had to do the work by itself. And it couldn’t. No wonder he was frustrated.
“Zeke.” Her gaze flew to his face. “You’re trying too hard. You’re not trusting God to do the changing.”
“Jules, don’t.”
“But—”
“Forget it. You can’t help me.”
His dismissive tone hacked away at her confidence. Who was she to question him? She couldn’t even find the book of Daniel. And yet something stronger than doubt pulsed through her. Courage. Faith. And especially compassion, because when she looked at Zeke, she saw both the confident Christian she’d known in Berkeley and the tortured man he was now.
Julia grasped his dirty hand in both of her clean ones. “God loves you, Zeke. He loves you just as you are. We don’t have to try to be Christians. We are Christians, because we’ve accepted Christ. He did the work for us. He—”
“I get it, Jules.” He jerked his hand out of her grasp. “I know the theology inside and out. I’m sorry to be blunt here, but you’re new at this. It’s easy in the beginning.”
“Oh, no it’s not.”
“You’re on a honeymoon right now. That’s how it starts. But the road gets narrower. Believe me, I know.”
“Easy?” Julia leapt off the stool and stabbed her finger into his chest. “How can you think for even a minute that it’s easy to deal with Hunter? That it was easy to walk away from everything I had, everything I believed. Everything I thought I was. Easy? Becoming a Christian was the hardest, most gut wrenching, most costly decision I’ve ever made. Don’t you dare say it was easy, because it wasn’t.”
He dragged a hand wearily across his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
“Well, you were.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You have no idea what it’s like to become a Christian when it means giving up your whole life. You grew up believing. I grew up with church on Christmas and Easter. Looking back, I think my mind started to change in Berkeley, largely because of you. All those conversations about life and God and eternity stayed with me.”
Longing flashed in his eyes, even desperation. “So what did I say?”
Something akin to panic stirred in her chest. She needed to get this right, but she didn’t have the knowledge Zeke possessed or the ability to preach like Billy Graham. Or to pray like George. Or to serve the poor like Mother Teresa or to sing like Chris Tomlin. Julia was an empty vessel that needed to be filled every day.
A little shaky, she sat back down on her stool. “I can’t tell you exactly what you said in Berkeley, but I can tell you my story.”
“I’m listening.”
The first words stumbled out of her mouth. “I was unhappy for a long time, but it wasn’t until a big fight with Hunter that I finally cracked. The fight was huge. The worst one ever. He wanted to take Max out on his awful speedboat, and I said no. When he told Max to get in the Lexus, Max got excited and ran to the car. I don’t have anything against speedboats, but Hunter thinks he’s invincible. I couldn’t trust him to keep Max safe.”
“That’s rough.”
“It was. And it still is. But that day I couldn’t compromise. I grabbed Max’s hand and dragged him kicking and screaming to my car instead. We drove straight to my mom’s.”
Zeke was watching her.
Studying her without saying a word, and so quiet she could hear each breath he took.
“My mom wasn’t home, but the house still felt safe. I’ll never forget walking through the front door and wanting to break down, but I had to take care of Max. He was okay after some cookies, so I let him play with the hose in the backyard. He loves that, and my mom doesn’t mind.”
She was rambling, but the next part of her story was the hardest to tell. “With Max safe and happy again, I started to shake all over. I could see the future as plain as day—me trying to protect Max, and Max becoming more like Hunter every day. My feelings were all bottled up. I couldn’t cry or yell. I was numb. So I tried to pray. Nothing happened, so I got my mom’s Bible out of her bedroom and opened to the only Scripture reference I knew.”
“Which one?”
“Proverbs 3:5–6. My mom has it tattooed on her shoulder.”
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart.” Zeke rattled off the rest as if he’d said it a million times. “And lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
“You know a lot of verses by heart. In Berkeley it irritated me. Now I envy you that knowledge.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Finish your story, okay?”
“Sure.” She took a breath. “I read that verse over and over. The next thing I knew, my eyes were closed and I was telling God how I felt. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. When my mom came home, I told her what happened and that I was leaving Hunter. She was great. She gave me a big hug, told me to come live with her, and said she’d watch Max while I packed. I went to the condo, threw our stuff in trash bags, then waited for Hunter to get back from the lake.”
“Oh, man. How did he take it?”
“Just like I expected. He called me a coward, said I was ruining Max, rolled his eyes when I tried to explain. I hated him at that moment.” Her voice fractured into a thousand pieces. “We’d fought before. Hunter couldn’t see it, but this time was different.”
“Why?”
“Because I was different.” She patted her chest. “I didn’t want to be Hunter’s doormat, and I knew enough about God—in large part thanks to you—that I wanted to live differently. That meant facing the truth and trusting Him even though I was terrified. I needed a job and didn’t have one. I knew I’d lose friends, and I did. But the hardest part was knowing Max would be confused and hurt.” She choked out her last words. “I love him so much.”
Zeke took a step toward her. “Jules—”
“Don’t. I have to finish.” Blinking fast, she wiped her damp eyes with her fingertips. “Because of what happened with Hunter, I know what it’s like to look down a long tunnel and see nothing but darkness. You know that leap of faith people talk about?”
He nodded.
“It’s terrifying. Worse than skydiving, because you don’t pack your own parachute and check it twelve times before you make the jump. Everything I just told you is why being a Christian isn’t the least bit easy for me.”
“No, I can see that now.” He slouched back against the workbench. “And I’m truly sorry for saying it was. But do you want to know something?”
“What?” She could breathe now, even think a little.
“I envy you.”
“That’s crazy.”
“No. It’s not. You have something, Jules. It’s real and it’s yours. It’s not something you believe because it’s how you were raised.”
“Well, that much is true. I messed up my life all on my own.” Now she was trying to trust God instead of herself. With her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest, she peered into Zeke’s face. His eyes met hers. One hug. One kiss. One touch to tell him he wasn’t alone.
She took a step in his direction, but he held his hands palms out. “I’m filthy, Jules. Don’t touch me.”
She didn’t care about his hands, but his heart was another matter. Until Zeke made peace with God, he was on the same shaky ground she’d been on in college. If she truly wanted to live her faith, she needed to commit him fully to God. But Lord, I love him. As glorious and messy as glitter flying off a visor, her feelings sparkled and spun through her entire body.
But it was too soon for those feelings, and she didn’t trust her instincts. If she stayed, Zeke would see the turmoil in her eyes. She might tell him how she felt, and right now he needed God far more than he needed her rattled emotions.
Shaking inside, she let out a slow breath. “I think I’ve talked enough. I should head home and let you finish out here.”
He nodded, relief plain on his face as he put the Ninja Turtles back in their shoebox and handed it to her. “These are for Max.”
“But they’re special to you. Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Julia recognized the need to change the subject and felt it herself. She took the Turtles from him. “Thanks. Max will love them.”
Together they held the box, their fingers brushing for an instant.
Zeke stepped back. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
She said her own good-bye and walked to her car. She didn’t look at him again, but her fingers tingled with the memory of that single touch. Dirty or clean, she loved Zeke just as he was.
twenty-two
When Zeke walked into his office on Monday morning, he couldn’t believe who—or what—stood around his desk. Marketing was at it again. They must have conspired with John at the pro shop, because there were five life-size cutouts of golfer Phil Mickelson scattered around Zeke’s desk. The pro shop used the cutouts to sell golf apparel.
There was no plaid in sight, but someone had taped a cartoon word bubble over the Phil in the middle. It read Clone Attack!
Julia came up behind him and stopped. “That’s . . .” She paused to glance at all five pasteboard smiles. “That’s a little scary, actually.”
“Yeah. Like zombies.”
After last night, Zeke felt like one. Instead of unpacking the last seven boxes in the garage, he had hauled a truckload of stuff to a Salvation Army drop-off. He had expected a weight to lift from his shoulders, but as he unloaded the boxes, each one had felt heavier than the last. When he climbed back in his truck, he’d been sucker-punched with a grief so strong he slumped helplessly against the steering wheel.
Hollow and hurting, he’d driven back to Pismo Beach to think and remember, even to look for God. But he’d come back still full of bitterness.
Julia walked up to his desk, set down some papers, and picked up one of the cutouts by the elbow. “The zombies need to wait. We have a lot of work to do. Later you can figure out what to do with them.”
“I already know. John’s going to find one sitting in the backseat of his car, and the others are going to show up in Marketing when they least expect it.”
Julia smiled. “Revenge is sweet.”
Zeke picked up two at a time. He just wished he had a real Phil Mickelson clone to play golf with Mr. Carter. He gestured toward the papers. “Are those the paving quotes for Golden Point?”
“Some of them are.” She slid a manila envelope out from the stack. “Open this first. It’s fun.”
Zeke sat down behind the desk and pulled out a sheet of drawing paper covered with green circles vaguely shaped like turtles. The words Thank you, Mr. Zeke were written in Julia’s neat printing, followed by From Max in crooked letters, including a backwards R.
Giving Max the Turtles had been an impulsive decision, but the instant he saw the box in Julia’s hands, he knew Max would treasure the toys. Little boys longed to be heroes; so did grown men. Zeke didn’t know what the future held for Caliente Springs, or for himself and Julia, but he was ready to do battle for both, even if it meant wrestling an angel like Jacob did in the Old Testament.
He snapped off a piece of tape and hung Max’s drawing behind his desk. “This needs to go on display.”
Julia sat on the chair across from him. Before he could pick up the paving quote
s, she broke in. “First, the Carter visit. Mr. and Mrs. Carter arrive Wednesday. I offered them a cottage, but he wants to stay in a room like his employees would.”
“I like how he thinks.”
“The four of us have a six a.m. tee time.”
Wincing, Zeke shook his head. “He really does love golf. We’ll beat the heat, but does that work for you with Max?”
“It’s fine. My mom’s ankle is a lot better. She’s still taking Advil, but she can get around without the crutches if she doesn’t overdo it. In fact, I’m taking her for a quick shopping trip this afternoon.”
“Enjoy it.” Julia worked a lot of extra hours and deserved the time off.
Leaning back in his chair, Zeke picked up the quotes for paving the path at Golden Point. For the next several minutes, they discussed the job bids. They were all high, so at Julia’s suggestion they decided to check out the rose garden as a possible ceremony site.
Zeke came around his desk. “Let’s go right now. Then you can get on with your day.”
They left the office and passed through the lobby. It should have been crowded with people, but he could have shot off a rocket and not bothered a soul. “We need this wedding to be a hit.”
“I have a new idea,” Julia said as they walked. “One of the bridesmaids is on the staff of Flops & Fortunes. Have you heard of it?”
“It’s a reality TV show.” Contestants competed to see who could throw the most amazing party on a thousand-dollar budget. Weddings, reunions, surprise parties. Whatever created drama.
“We don’t qualify for the show, but Jessica, one of the bridesmaids, wants to live-tweet on the show’s official Twitter account. Let’s hope we’re in the fortune category and not a flop, because a million people are going to read a blow-by-blow account. It’s a little risky, but I’m all for taking chances.”
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