“Still sounds the same to me.” Grace waited for the hovering Frisbee to drop.
“Not really. Say you’re driving home and get stopped for speeding.”
Grace caught the Frisbee, held it above her head like a halo, and intentionally donned an angelic look. “I don’t speed.”
“I know you don’t, Miss Perfect, but pretend. If the cop gave you a ticket, that would be justice. You know, that concept you wear like a badge of honor.”
If he meant for his words to wiggle under her skin, it had worked. She aimed the Frisbee at his head.
“But if the cop said that since this was the first time he’d caught you he wouldn’t give you a ticket, that would be mercy. You didn’t get what you deserved.”
She sent a “no-duh” look and launched the Frisbee. “You think? I get justice and mercy. It’s grace that trips me up.”
He deflected the plastic disc with his hand. “Trying to take my head off?” Matt traipsed after the Frisbee. “Okay, let’s say a friend pulls up behind you—a friend you’ve wronged, by the way—and tells the officer he knows you deserve a ticket, but to give it to him instead. The police officer tells your friend that once the ticket is paid you’ll receive the best treasure ever.” His voice lowered. “Then the policeman mentions that the penalty for speeding is death.”
Grace let Matt’s shocking words sink in. Yes, that was grace. So beyond what anyone deserved, but Christ had demonstrated it willingly, not just for her, but the entire world. She released a sigh and stepped over to where he stood. “I don’t know if I could ever show that kind of grace.”
“Maybe not on the same scale, but I think God uses us as tools of grace when we least expect it. And that,” he paused, his eyes soft, “sets us free from the trap of perfectionism.” He studied her a long minute until she got the distinct impression he wanted to say more. He glanced down at his watch. “I have some things I need to do. You ready to go?”
She puzzled over his odd comment as they trekked back to the car in silence. Was her desire to be as perfect as possible an asset or a liability?
As they drove toward the house a sudden realization pounded its way into her brain. Matt might make her furious at times, but with no one else did she share such deep and meaningful conversations.
He turned his gaze her way, one wrist steering the car. “Back to this case you’re working on. Any details?”
“The charge is vehicular homicide.”
Compassion softened his eyes. “Must be hard for you because of your mom.”
Grace nodded. “I knew when I became a lawyer I’d face stuff like this. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be my first case.”
“Analyzing it to death as usual?”
She scowled at him.
“Just joking.” He tilted his head to one side, his brown eyes narrowing perceptively. “Is there something else about this case that bothers you?”
How did he do that? How could he discern her struggle when she hadn’t voiced one word to give him evidence? “One of these days you’re gonna have to tell me how you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Read me like a book.”
He turned to peer out the driver’s side window as they passed Andy’s office. When he looked back, a mischievous grin etched his features. “It’s not that hard, Gracie Mae. I’ve always liked books with lots of pictures.”
“Ha. Very funny.” Grace shot a mock glare. “Are you referencing my age or my mental capacity?”
The wicked gleam in his eyes receded. “Neither. I just know you. Something’s eating you alive, and I think I know what it is.” The words were spoken gently. “It’s something I’ve really wanted to talk to you about anyway.”
She inhaled sharply. “Oh, no, here it comes. You’re about to launch into one of your diatribes about my shortcomings and then try to fix me, aren’t you?”
“You don’t have any trouble voicing your opinion of me, so chill. I’m your friend and you need to know.”
It was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes like some bored teenager, but she somehow managed to keep her gaze trained on him. “Okay, but you’d better play nice.”
“It’s just that your disease to please is getting worse.”
A hard jolt of justification blasted through her body. “I don’t happen to see anything wrong with making a good impression.”
“Don’t be so defensive. To me it’s a serious problem, one that could potentially affect your relationship with God. Let me ask you this—how do you see God?”
Easy question. “Father.”
He nodded as if her answer was just what he expected and turned on his blinker. “And what do you think of when you think of the word ‘father’?”
Rules. Obedience. Sternness. The thoughts shocked her. “I’ve heard God described as a loving Father, and I see Him presented that way in the Bible, but sometimes I can’t help but see Him as a Father who’ll strike me down if I disobey.”
Matt took hold of one of her hands and steered with the other. “He wants us to obey because it’s best for us. But He’s not like some giant eye-in-the-sky, waiting for us to mess up so He can zap us.”
“Don’t you think He punishes us when we mess up?”
He shook his head. “No. Christ took the punishment for us. God disciplines us so we won’t make the same mistake. It may feel like punishment, but it teaches us a better way.”
“And what does this have to do with my supposed people-pleasing problem?”
“Everything. You don’t have to work so hard trying to please everyone, including God.” He pulled into her driveway and put the car in park.
“Wait a minute.” She gave her head a fierce shake. “Didn’t you just tell me God wants us to obey?”
“Yeah, but you can’t do it to gain His favor. Don’t you see?” His voice held intensity. “If you’re working to gain His favor, you’re annulling His free gift of grace. There’s nothing we can do to make Him love us more than He already does. Besides, if we could do it ourselves, what need would we have for God?”
“You still haven’t explained how all this relates to others.”
His face sobered. “Living your life to gain the approval of others is just an extension of how you live your life for God. I’ve been where you are. Tried keeping rules and working to please everyone, and it didn’t work. All I had was worthless religion.” His eyes held a moist sheen. “That’s when I truly gave my life over to Christ, and He changed me. I don’t care what people think of me, and I’m not driven to impress. When God looks at me, He sees Jesus living in me, and that’s enough. I’ve put rule-keeping and people-pleasing behind me, and I don’t plan on going back to it. Ever.”
She sat in shocked silence. Yes, she’d tried to impress others to get them to like her. But in her attempt to please God, had she inadvertently tried to make herself acceptable by becoming religious? Surely not! Grace released a burst of pent-up air and shook her head. “That’s not who I am!” She wanted to say more—felt the need to explain—but words just wouldn’t come.
“Tell me you’re not over-analyzing your participation in this case because you’re trying to impress everyone, including the other side. You’re afraid people won’t like you, so you end up making decisions based on which option gives you the least collateral damage.”
Her jaw flapped open and she snatched her hand away. “What a horrid thing to say.”
“Gracie, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m trying to help.”
She brushed aside a strand of hair that fell in front of her face. “Well, your help sure feels like hurt.” What right did he have to be critical when she tried so hard—gave one hundred and twenty percent—in everything she did?
God, if what Matt says is true, You’re going to have to prove it to me. I serve You because I love You. Yes, I’m afraid of messing things up—with You and others—but it’s only because I want to live my life to make You proud of me.
A bitt
er hush descended between them. Finally Matt broke the silence. “This is so not turning out like I wanted. I keep sticking my foot in my mouth and upsetting you in the process. I really just wanted to get together to have a good time. Can we start over?”
She nodded, too afraid of crying to attempt speech.
He reclaimed her hand and turned an apologetic gaze her way. Suddenly, without warning, she found herself being drawn into his soft brown eyes. No! She pulled back, reached for her purse, and pretended to dig for something, her heart pounding in her throat. There was no way she was gonna fall for him again. He was a wonderful friend and that was it. So what if he often understood her better than she understood herself?
“Gracie.” Matt’s voice was low and soft. “Quit pretending to dig for something that’s not there, and look at me.”
She inhaled a long breath and raised her gaze, immediately wishing she hadn’t. What she saw reflected in his eyes shook her to the core, a look she didn’t care to identify.
“I wasn’t planning on bringing this up today, but since the situation presented itself, I have to.” He swallowed hard. “I kept my distance these past two years at your request so you could pursue your law career, but now I’d like us to see if there could be something more between us.”
Grace suddenly felt physically ill. She lowered her head and rubbed her hands together. How could she get out of this without hurting his feelings? “Matt, I’m just not ready.” She glanced up at him, resolute, but fearful of what she might see.
Though his eyes held sadness, he took her words well. “Okay. I’m prepared to wait as long as necessary.”
“I can’t promise you I’ll ever be ready.”
“Any reason why?”
Where did she start? His irresponsibility? His sponging off Andy’s goodness? Papa’s opinion? “I’m not convinced you’re what I’m looking for.” There. She’d said it.
He pondered her words for several minutes then turned his gaze back toward her, his jaw set in concrete. “Yeah, well. I guess I’ll just have to find a way to convince you that I’m exactly what you need . . . regardless of what you’re looking for.”
What was she supposed to say after that? Here she was, trained in persuasive speech, and she had no rebuttal? Grace gathered her things, intentionally keeping her eyes down. “Guess I’ll see you later.” She crawled from the car and traipsed to the front door, refusing to look back as she let herself in the house. Her thoughts ran in circles as she closed the door to her room behind her. Matt was right about trying to please everyone. She’d always wanted to keep everyone happy. Well, no more.
She scribbled a quick note to Papa and laid it on the counter, then moved outside, digging for her keys. By the time she reached the pickup, a plan had formulated. Urged forward by a myriad of emotions—confusion, determination, and more than a little anger at Matt’s comments—she put the truck in gear and headed out of Miller’s Creek toward the mall in Morganville for a little retail therapy.
6
Grace arrived at work the next morning feeling like a new person. Attired in an electric blue suit and matching heels, with her newly-colored hair pulled back away from her face, she waltzed into the office with newfound confidence. Yes, she’d spent way too much, but the department store had extended her a line of credit, thanks to her job as an attorney.
Andy, Ben, and Jason stood in the hallway, most likely discussing the Simmons case.
“Good morning.” Grace passed them with a smile.
“Gracie?” Andy’s incredulous voice sounded from behind her.
She faced him. “Yes?”
“You look so . . . so . . . different.”
“Thanks.” Grace took in their facial expressions, eyes rounded and jaws hinged open. Her plan was working. No longer would they think of her as little Gracie, the meek and mild-mannered child they’d known all these years. They had no choice now but to take her seriously as an attorney. And if her mini-makeover had worked for them, it would also work for Elena Delgado and the rest of the legal community. It was time everyone knew that Grace Soldano, J.D. was in town.
A few minutes later she sat with all three men in the conference room. She jotted notes as Andy spoke, and waited until he finished before she asked the question at the front of her mind. “What about the Simmons trial?”
Andy lowered his head for a brief minute. “I’ve decided to let Jason handle it with me.”
Her heart ground to a stop as her mouth hinged open. “I’ll do a good job.”
A sigh whooshed from her boss’s mouth. “I know, but with Sandra out, I need you in other places right now.”
Jason met Andy’s gaze. “I think Grace would make a great addition to the team.”
Her heartbeat quickened, but one glance at Andy gave her the answer.
His mouth had morphed into a thin line. “I’m certain of it, but my decision stands.” He rose to his feet and made preparations to leave the room. “We’re through.”
Grace jumped to her feet. “Andy, could I speak with you privately?”
He pivoted. “Sure.” His sea-green eyes held uncertainty. “If this is about the Simmons’ case—”
“No.” Yes, she was more than a little disappointed, but the move was his call, no matter how much she disliked it. “I just wanted to ask you not to call me Gracie. I think it’s more professional if I go by Grace.”
“Will do. Just used to you being Gracie.”
“Thanks.” She stepped around him, cradling her legal pad next to her chest. As she rounded the corner, she ran smack dab into Jason, who stood right outside the door, his lanky frame leaned against the wall.
“Oh!” Grace over-compensated for his unexpected presence, and started to fall.
Strong arms reached out and yanked her upward, and she found herself pulled close to Jason’s chest, his expensive cologne encircling her head. “Th-thank you. I’m sorry I ran you over.”
“No problem. I was waiting to speak with Andy.” His British accent was a velvet glove.
Andy walked past. “Why don’t we meet in my office, Jason?”
Jason gripped her arms and gazed into her eyes. “Sure.” He released her with a smile and followed Andy down the hall.
Her heart pounding uncontrollably, Grace made her way back to her office, still puzzling over what had just transpired. To her surprise, Matt stood at the receptionist window.
His eyebrows puckered as she entered her office. “You okay?”
Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Grace nodded weakly. “Just fine. Why do you ask?”
The color of his eyes changed to creek mud as his face hardened. “Let’s start over, and tell me the truth this time.”
Immediate anger erupted in her chest, but before she could let him have it, Jason stepped from Andy’s office and poked his head in the door. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” The handsome attorney stepped closer, until he towered over her. “Would you like to have lunch with me today?”
Grace’s heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed, hoping she could speak intelligibly. She opted not to sneak a peek at Matt, since she was pretty sure this would make him none too happy. While she didn’t want to intentionally hurt his feelings, it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to tell him yesterday just how she felt. She sent Jason a smile. “I’d love to.”
Maybe now Matt would understand she meant every word.
Matt slid off the white mare’s back the following Thursday morning and began to unsaddle the animal. The ride had done nothing to relieve his melancholy. As though she understood, the mare turned her head and nickered.
Unpleasant memories from last Sunday’s date with Gracie filled his head. The recent turn of events was yet another rejection in a long string, the first of which left him wondering what was so wrong with him that his own mother didn’t want him.
Matt groaned and raked both hands across his head, a battle raging within. He knew from past experience to keep his chin up, but his heart refused to co
operate. How could he prove to Gracie he was exactly what she needed?
God, help me through this. Help me respond to Your will without hurting myself any further.
Even as the words whispered in his heart, he sensed the truth that following God sometimes involved personal suffering and sacrifice. Hadn’t the life of Christ proved that very point? While being in God’s perfect will was the safest place to be, it could also be the most dangerous. Another mystery of God’s kingdom.
Matt carried the saddle to the tack room and hoisted it onto the rack. Something had to give before he went bonkers. He’d hoped the ride would whisk every thought of Gracie away, but no such luck.
A heavy weight pressed against his heart, and he sucked in a deep breath, suddenly very much aware of spiritual danger. Gracie’s perfectionist nature could easily lead to living life on her own terms and in her own goodness rather than letting God’s grace do its perfect work. Is that why she’d exchanged her typical wardrobe for a sophisticated one and dyed her once gorgeous black hair the color of copper? How he wished he could get the old Gracie back, not this new and improved version that was anything but improved in his book.
Matt glanced at his watch. He pictured her, humming happily as she went about her tasks, dreaming about Jason and his cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. His stomach churned in response, sending acid to his throat and mouth.
Her face had been a shade lighter and her eyes a shade darker when she’d returned to her desk after her meeting with the other attorneys on Monday, yet she’d insisted she was okay. When would she learn that he knew her so well he could immediately tell when anything was wrong?
Frustration mounted like steam in a pressure cooker. He turned toward the barn wall and looked for something to punch. As he moved toward the weathered wood, his fist raised, he came to his senses. He lowered his hand and breathed deeply, putting into practice one of the techniques he’d teach the kids he’d be working with later—if he decided to stay. If nothing else, this afternoon’s session should give him a feel for the work.
The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) Page 7