Someone Like You
Page 30
Guests were on their feet. The ones in the front rows were crowded in the outside aisle, and the minister was sprawled on the ground with the remains of the flower arch on top of him. Ladybug—who was being chased by Zeke, Derek, and the groomsmen—was chasing all three bridesmaids down the main aisle. A white cord that moments ago had marked the family section dangled in the shape of a noose from Zeke’s hand.
Zeke and the groomsmen picked up speed. But so did Ladybug. At the end of the aisle, the bridesmaids scattered. Only Julia stood between the goat and the bride. Preparing to take a hit, she spread her arms, balanced on the balls of her feet and stared Ladybug dead in the eye.
The goat lowered her head. “Maaaah. Maa—AAAAH!”
“Don’t you dare!” Julia shouted back.
“Maa-AAAH!”
Julia braced for the hit. Ladybug picked up steam. Just before the goat butted into her, Zeke lunged forward and snagged Ladybug’s rhinestone collar. She twisted and bucked, but Zeke held tight with both hands. Julia wrangled the cord over Ladybug’s head and tightened the loop. When the groomsmen and Derek crowded behind her to make a human wall between Tiff and Ladybug, Julia finally let out her breath. Zeke took the rope from her, shortened it to six inches, and held Ladybug tight.
Ginger and Maury shoved their way through the crowd. Ginger broke through first, strode up to her pet, and waved her finger in the goat’s face. “Ladybug, shame on you! I can’t believe what you just did. Look at this mess! And it’s Tiff’s wedding. Bad goat! Very, very bad!”
While Ginger babbled apologies to anyone who would listen, Julia surveyed the damage. Guests were scattered all over the lookout. The sun was dropping fast, and gray shadows were growing longer by the minute. Crushed flowers and broken stems littered the aisle, and the only sound to reach her ears was a shell-shocked silence punctuated with murmurs of “Poor Tiff.”
No. Tiff’s day would not be ruined by a goat. Not if Julia had anything to say about it.
She spun toward Zeke, who was handing Ladybug off to the lead member of the set-up crew. Four other workers stood by ready to take orders. Zeke turned to her, grim-faced, but his eyes glinted with raw determination. They were partners, a team, a couple. They didn’t need words to back each other up. With a single crisp nod, they united in their cause. Tiff’s wedding would be as wonderful as they all dreamed, or Julia and Zeke would go out together in a blaze of glory.
“Let’s do this.” Zeke turned to the set-up crew. “Gentleman, this wedding is on. Do whatever it takes to clean up the mess before we lose daylight.”
As the men hustled away, Julia waved frantically to Ellen approaching with the mangled bouquets in her arms.
Julia turned to Ginger. “Will you check on Tiff? Tell her—”
George called from five steps away. “Tiff’s fine. Derek’s with her.” He joined the group, and the six of them huddled together.
Julia turned to her mom first. “The flowers—”
“I’m on it.” Ellen indicated the blooms and greenery piled in her arms. “The arch can’t be saved, but I can pull together three nice bouquets.”
“How long?” Julia asked.
“Thirty minutes.”
“The sun’s setting,” she reminded them all. “Can you do it in fifteen?”
“I’ll help,” Ginger said.
George rested his hand on her arm. “Sis?”
“Yes?”
“We have five hundred people standing around. And they’re going to be talking about poor Tiff until we get this mess cleaned up. We need to change the mood. How about I borrow a guitar and we do some entertaining?”
The Travers Twins hadn’t performed together in close to thirty years. While the bad blood of the past was long gone, scars remained. Julia held her breath while Ginger studied her brother’s face. Her eyes turned misty as she kissed his cheek. “You’re on, partner. How about ‘Diddly Down’ for old times’ sake?”
“You got it, sis.”
Side by side, they strode to the front of the lookout. George borrowed the guitar from the quintet, tested the microphone, then called for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen!”
The murmuring changed from pity to surprise.
“I’m George Travers.” He strummed a chord and leaned back to give his sister center stage.
“And I’m Ginger Travers.”
A smattering of applause turned into an ovation. When it calmed, George cracked a smile. “That goat you just met is Ladybug. She’s sort of a pet around here. While the crew puts this wedding back together, Ginger and I are going to sing a few songs, starting with a toe-tapper you all know well.”
Someone let out a hoot of approval. George played the first notes of “Diddly Down,” and his voice blended with Ginger’s in perfect harmony, as if they had just rehearsed. Sometimes the years didn’t matter at all.
Julia reached for Zeke, and they hurried to the launch pad. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were huddled together, talking rapidly as they waited for word about the wedding. Julia thought briefly of Jessica and Flops & Fortunes, but there was nothing she could do about that exposure now.
Tiff and Derek stood on the far side of the asphalt slab, their arms around each other as the minister tried to console them. Tears streaked Tiff’s face, and Derek’s tux was askew. The words to “Diddly Down” floated in the air, but no one noticed.
“Attention please,” Julia called to the group. “We just had a wedding crasher. Ladybug made a mess, but this wedding is going to happen. And it’s going to be spectacular for just one reason. Derek and Tiff love each other. That’s why you’re all here, and that’s what we came to celebrate.”
Relief and joy washed over Tiff’s face. Derek planted a kiss on her temple, squeezed her waist, then faced Julia. “What do you need the guys to do?”
“Not a thing,” she replied. “The set-up crew is taking care of the mess. Ladybug is on her way back to the stable, and my mom’s making new bouquets. George and Ginger are entertaining the guests, and there’s just enough daylight left for the ceremony.”
Tiff sniffed back her tears. “My makeup—”
Julia handed her a tissue from her pocket then turned to the maid of honor. “There’s an emergency basket in the limo. We have hairspray, lipstick, safety pins, even super glue. Will you get it for us?”
The bridesmaid scooted away on her high heels. Derek gave Tiff a last lingering look and left with the minister and his groomsmen. Zeke, radio in hand, checked on the clean-up and received good news.
“The crew’s almost done,” he told her. “I’m going up front. Radio when you’re ready, and I’ll signal George to wrap up the show and come back to escort Tiff.”
Julia smiled her thanks then turned her attention to the bridesmaids who were repairing their hair and makeup. Fresh lipstick did wonders for everyone, and within minutes the group was laughing, even Tiff. Ellen arrived with three bouquets even prettier than the original ones. Tiff threw herself into Julia’s arms and hugged her hard.
Ten minutes later, with no sign whatsoever of Ladybug or the mayhem, Tiff walked down the aisle on George’s arm.
Zeke and Julia watched from the back row, their fingers laced and shoulders touching. The setting sun shimmered into liquid gold. The rays bounced off the coastal mountains and turned the distant valley into a bottomless sea of light. At the precise moment Tiff and Derek spoke their vows, the clouds burned bright pink. When they kissed as husband and wife, the crowd erupted with cheers and applause.
Julia let out the breath she’d been holding and sagged against Zeke.
Drawing her against his side, he whispered into her ear. “Maybe it’s true.”
“What?”
“That the biggest problems make the best memories.”
“I think maybe they do,” she whispered back. “But just for the record, you and I are getting married indoors.”
“Ladybug isn’t invited?”
“Not a chance.”
Epilogue
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FIVE YEARS LATER
“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” George asked Zeke.
The two men were standing at the grill, chatting while Zeke flipped hamburgers for the twenty or so guests invited for today’s gender reveal party. The party was Ginger’s idea, but the event was being held in the backyard of the suburban home Zeke and Julia had purchased a year ago. With another baby on the way—this would be their second in addition to Max—they had given up the manager’s house at Caliente Springs for a neighborhood with schools, shopping, and a nearby pediatrician.
Today’s plan called for Zeke and Julia to say the blessing over the meal then open a giant box of balloons and send them soaring. The balloons were either pink or blue. No one knew except Julia’s doctor, the ultrasound technician, and Ginger, who had planned the party now in full swing with guests like Chet and John from Caliente Springs and friends from the church Zeke and Julia attended.
Zeke considered George’s question. “We already have one of each, so I don’t have a preference.”
George clapped him on the back. “Either way, Ellen and I are going to be thrilled.”
George and Ellen had been married four years now, almost as long as Zeke and Julia. George and Zeke were closer than ever, and Zeke called Ellen “Mom” like Julia did. Ginger was part of their family too.
And then there were his kids. Max was nine now, smart as a whip, and a budding geologist. Hannah was two years old and too cute for words.
At the heart of it all was Julia.
His wife.
His partner.
His best friend.
And soon to be the mother of another son or daughter. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Strong, kind, and smart, she was the anchor that kept their growing family steady.
Life was sweet these days. Thanks to Tiff’s wedding, Flops & Fortunes had bestowed Caliente Springs with “platinum fortune status” and done a full network TV show on the resort. Today the hotel was booked two years in advance with weddings and conferences.
Zeke was proud of the accomplishments, but even more exciting was the men’s group he led at church. He shared his burnout story often, and more than a few men had found strength in it.
Not even Hunter could mar the goodness in Zeke and Julia’s life. With time and prayer, they had accepted him for who he was, though Hunter remained aloof to them and even to Max. Zeke and Julia invited him to Max’s birthday parties, but he didn’t come. Instead he sent cards with money. Over the years, phone calls had dwindled from weekly occurrences to rare ones. It had been a slow pulling away, and Max had accepted Hunter’s role in his life as Hunter chose to define it. With Zeke to fill the gap, Max had adjusted well.
Zeke loved being a father. Hannah called him Daddy, and Max called him Dad. Beautiful words indeed.
Proud and content, he added the burgers to the buffet table then signaled to Julia. Grinning, she rounded up Max and Hannah and came to stand at his side in front of their guests. Zeke hoisted Hannah to his hip, grinned at Max, then laid his free hand on Julia’s belly. “How’s the little one?”
“He’s doing great.” She was sure it was a boy.
“Or she is.”
“We’ll know in a few minutes.”
Zeke gave her tummy a pat then called for attention from the crowd. “Julia and I want to thank you all for coming today. We especially want to thank Ginger for pulling the party together.”
Applause broke out, led by Maury. Nothing romantic had developed between him and Ginger, but they were good friends.
“This is a special day for us,” Zeke continued, “and it’s a joy to share it with every one of you. If you’re so inclined, would you bow your heads for a short prayer?”
Julia gripped Max’s hand, then put her arm around Zeke’s waist and leaned into him. Max scooted nearer, and Hannah cuddled into his chest. With his family tight and close, Zeke took a breath. “Father God, we thank you for the food, our friends, and our growing family. We ask you to bless this meal to our bodies and this fellowship to our hearts. We also ask you to bless the baby on the way. Boy or girl, help us to love this child just as you love us. Amen.”
The instant he finished, Ginger leaped to her feet. “It’s time! Go open that box.”
The four of them approached a white box the size of a washing machine. Zeke passed Hannah to Julia, and they split up into two teams. With the girls on one side of the box and Zeke and Max on the other, they placed their hands on the flaps and braced to pull.
Zeke locked eyes with his wife, a unique woman who cared for others and loved God with her entire being. His chest swelled with more love than his heart could hold. “On the count of three?”
She nodded, and in unison they shouted, “One!”
The crowd joined in. “Two!”
And louder still . . . “Three!”
With little Hannah squirming, Julia, Zeke, and Max opened the box. A dozen bright blue balloons shot out of the box and soared into the sky.
“A boy!” Julia cried.
The crowd erupted with cheers and applause. Max gave a fist pump, and little Hannah clapped because everyone else was clapping. Zeke came around to Julia, tucked her against his side with Hannah between them, and pulled Max close. With his heart brimming, he gave thanks to his heavenly Father for entrusting him with the precious gift of a family to love, protect, and lead. That was what a husband and father did, and with God first in his life, Zeke embraced the call.
Acknowledgements
“God is stretching you as a writer.”
I can’t tell you how many times my friend Sara said those words to me over the year it took to write (and rewrite) Someone Like You. Stretching feels good when we stand on our toes and raise our arms as high as we can. That gentle pull releases tension and makes us hum with pleasure. But there’s another kind of stretching, the kind my son experienced in physical therapy for a knee injury. That kind of stretching pushes us well beyond the limits of our respective comfort zones.
The stretching involved with Someone Like You falls into the second category.
This was a tough book to write, and I wouldn’t have survived it without the love, help, and prayers of family, friends, and writing colleagues.
Sara Mitchell, play the tape. Play it every day and believe it. When my creative mind shut down, you came alongside me in a way no one else could. You shared your ideas, logic, wisdom, love, and faith. Adjectives and adverbs too! I couldn’t have written this book without (wait for it) . . . someone like you.
Deborah Raad, thank you doesn’t begin to express my gratitude. You brainstormed with me, read lousy first drafts, and proofread when I couldn’t tell a comma from a question mark. When I lost enthusiasm, you encouraged me. When I felt like banging my head against the wall, you laughed with me at Panera. Friends forever!
To my editors at Bethany House Publishers: Charlene Patterson, I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. No editor wants to write an eight-page revision letter. And Raela Schoenherr, thank you for supporting me through this process. You both know the first version of this book was a mess. Your insights made all the difference. I also want to thank editor Jessica Barnes for catching some very embarrassing mistakes and making the writing shine. More than any book I’ve written (and this is number seventeen), Someone Like You was a collaborative effort. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
A host of other people helped bring this story to life with their prayers, encouragement, and insight.
Monica Mynk, friend and fellow Kentucky author, when I was at my wit’s end, you offered to read through the mess I thought was a book. Your insights breathed life into those early chapters. Thank you!
More gratitude goes to my agent, Pattie Steele-Perkins. Pattie, we’ve been together a lot of years now. Your sage advice and encouragement are constant blessings to me.
And to my prayer partner, Ginger Burns: I didn’t realize it at the time, but the seeds for this story were planted in t
he Centerpointe prayer room. I miss you, friend!
My parents are no longer on this earth, but their encouragement echoes in my mind every single day. So does my dad’s wisdom and my mom’s insight into people. I wouldn’t be a writer today without their special blend of logic and empathy.
I’m so grateful for my family.
A big thank-you goes to Mom and Dad Scheibel, Peggy, Kathy, and Patti. I love you all. Another shout-out goes to Gary and Katie Hailey, my uncle and aunt. Katie, you’ve been in my life longer than anyone else. To my stepdad, George McLeary, thank you for loving my mom and joining our family. And last, a big hug to my brother, John, and his wife, Angie. Time and miles mean nothing when you’re as close as we are.
To my sons and their wives: Joe and Meredith, you made me a grandmother for the first time and in a spectacular way. Twin girls! Big hugs to Kennedy and Corinne. Grandma loves you. Dave and Whitney, you inspire me with how you love and support each other. That love shows in everything you do. I’m proud of you both and am overjoyed to be your mom.
And finally to my husband, Michael: There’s a reason this book is dedicated to you. Four words: dorky pink hair bow. (Here’s the story for those who don’t know it: When I saw the cover for my second historical, I didn’t like it at all. “It’s all wrong!” I complained to Mike on the phone. “My heroine would never wear that dorky pink hair bow.” Two hours later, he walked through the door with a bouquet of pink roses wrapped with dorky pink ribbon.) Honey, you’re the best. I cherish your prayers, your wisdom, and every minute of our marriage.
A lot of thought goes into the title of a book. I was particularly pleased with Someone Like You because it works on so many levels. Sara got the first shout-out, but those three words apply to every person on this list. I couldn’t have told this story without the support of each and every one of you.
I’ve been blessed in so many ways. With my heart full, I bow my head to the greatest Someone in my life and say, “Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your grace.”