Rich in Hope (Richness in Faith Trilogy Book 2)

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Rich in Hope (Richness in Faith Trilogy Book 2) Page 11

by Lindi Peterson


  In a couple of days, Stephen will have “broken up” with me, the New Year’s Eve engagement party will be cancelled, and I’ll be back to my old self again.

  Except now, things have the possibility to have a new look about them. I just have to approach it in the right way. “So, about this wedding we are going to. How well to you know Brett and Ann?”

  “I’ve known Brett for a couple of years of seeing him off and on at the church, when I’ve been in town. He was an accountant but now is a missionary in Peru. I guess he came back here to get married. I only met Ann today. They just met last spring.”

  “And they are already getting married?”

  “Yep. It happens like that sometimes.”

  “Not with me, it wouldn’t. I’d have to know somebody a long time before I committed spending the rest of my life with them. Talk about a life sentence.”

  He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Is that how you see marriage? As a life sentence?”

  “Well, it is for life. I believe that. So it’s better to know all you can about them. No surprises, you know?”

  “Surprises don’t always have to be a bad thing.”

  The conversation is moving far beyond the scope of where I was trying to take it. “So, you don’t know how long they are in town?”

  “No. Why?”

  I take a deep breath. Should I tell him my idea? Will he think I’m crazy? Will he help me out at all?

  BUTTERFLY

  I TAKE A DEEP breath, readying myself for a rejection. “I have an idea, but I need your help.”

  That sentence pulls his attention away from the musings of the bare room and focuses it directly on me. “My help?”

  Really, his tone doesn’t reveal much. He could go either way. “Yes. Ann would be the perfect model for my SunKissed! line. Perfect. I could put together an awesome portfolio with her wearing my clothes. It’s like they were created for her.”

  “And, this has to do with me, how?” His expression is curious, like he doesn’t have a clue as to why I would need his help.

  “You know Brett. Maybe you can find out how long they are going to be in town. Maybe ask if she’d be interested in having a few pictures taken of her? Wearing my clothes?”

  He sweeps his hand across his brow, his brown hair falling back into place when he’s through. It’s insane how I notice everything this man does.

  I now notice he turns away from me, focusing his attention back to the bare, plain room. “They’re right next door. You can take a walk over there just as easy as I can. Ann seemed enamored and in awe of you, anyway. It might be better coming from you.”

  “I’m sure she has a lot to do with her wedding less than a week away. I’d feel like I was imposing.”

  “But it’s okay if I impose?”

  “My thoughts were more geared toward you mentioning it to Brett and he could ask her when the time was good.”

  He turns back toward me. “You’re thinking a guy would have the sensitivity to know when it’s a good time? Aren’t we accused of just the opposite?”

  Can I ever win with this guy? But he does have a point. “Would you go with me, tomorrow?”

  “I thought you didn’t have a photographer.”

  Wow. Maybe going to church this morning was a good idea. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect segue into asking Stephen if he would photograph Ann.

  If she said yes.

  “Well, you’re a photographer. I was thinking maybe…”

  “No. Sorry. I don’t photograph people. We’ve had this conversation.”

  When Stephen takes a stance on something, one needs to know it’s going to be impossible to change his mind. Even if I could explain how my heart dropped when he said the word no, I don’t think it would change his mind at all.

  I guess going to church didn’t help me as much as I thought.

  Another idea walks into my mind. This one is a little crazier.

  More risky in the scope of all considered.

  But it seems I have no choice.

  Being with bold, unwavering Stephen makes me even bolder. “You said I

  had a natural eye. Can I borrow Millie?”

  EVEN THE STRONGEST coffee and another beautiful sunrise can’t erase the “are you crazy” expression Stephen gave me last night when I asked about borrowing Millie.

  He didn’t answer and the brief bout of boldness I felt left me immediately, so I didn’t restate my request. I did retreat to my room, where I looked up cameras on my computer. All I discovered was an amazing influx of confusing information.

  Maybe Stephen can lead me in the right direction for a camera, if he won’t let me borrow his.

  Although, I don’t need to be spending a lot of money. Some of the cameras were ridiculously expensive. And the accessories were equally pricy.

  Right now, budgeting is most important.

  I pull the throw I grabbed off the back of the couch around me a little tighter. The morning is cool, my coffee is hot, and my nerves are on edge anticipating Stephen’s return from taking Phoebe to school.

  My gaze takes in this backyard area. All the seating, the pool, the natural beauty. Setting my coffee on the table, I stand and start walking around. Visions of my clothes come into mind. What a perfect place for the photos to be taken. SunKissed! can really come to life here, in this place.

  So many possibilities.

  A skinny palm juts out from a plain brown planter. The grayish trunk of the tree along with the brown color of the planter beg for color. My heart rate accelerates at the image in my mind. Ann, wearing the knee-length skirt and lacy top, sitting on the edge of the planter, parades before my imagination.

  I run across the patio, the throw slipping from my shoulders. I stop and pick it up and toss it on the settee as I pass by. Using what girlie strength I have, I pull a planter from where it leans against a wall. I scoot it backwards until it’s sitting at the edge of the pool. A metal sunflower sticks out of the pot. The metal is painted yellow. I’m disappointed to find the metal is chipped in places.

  Maybe it won’t be visible from further away. I start stepping backwards until the blue of the pool, and the yellow of the sunflower are in a good visual spot. Deciding I need more perspective, I take one more step back.

  My breath hitches as my back slams into something hard.

  Lean.

  Stephen.

  Usually able to detect him even when I don’t see him, I’m surprised I didn’t know he was here.

  My excitement must have overtaken my Stephen radar.

  Not a good thing.

  Strong hands steady my shoulders, keeping me close.

  “Can I ask what you are doing?” His voice is like the soft warm breeze of December in Florida, tickling my ear.

  I make no attempt to leave his embrace. “I’m visualizing photos here in this backyard. It would be a great place to photograph Ann in SunKissed! designs. I spotted the sunflower from across the pool, but I didn’t realize how beat up it really is.”

  He slides his hands down my arms. “You call it beat up. I call it character.”

  “Call it what you want, I need perfection for these photos.” I hope he hears the seriousness of my tone. I do need perfection.

  “Dig deeper.” His tone is challenging.

  I’m not grasping his challenge. “What?”

  Stephen steps around me and heads for the sunflower. “Come here.”

  It’s only a few steps, I reason. But somehow everything with Stephen is exaggerated. When I reach the plant, I stop and look at him.

  He points to a brownish-coppery place on the sunflower. “What has happened here?”

  “The paint has chipped off.”

  “You think so? Why do you think it was sitting under cover of the patio?”

  Are we really engaging in a conversation about the placement of a metal sunflower? I guess we are. “Because that’s where someone moved it.”

  Rolling his eyes, he hitches his thumb in h
is jean pocket. “Cheetah, work with me here.”

  Feeling too excited for his broodiness, I try to mold my mindset into his. “Maybe someone moved it there so it would be out of the weather?”

  “Maybe. Sometimes we need pruning to be of good character. But there is a balance. Just the right amount can make us into who God wants us to be.”

  God? Pruning? “We’re talking about a metal sunflower.”

  “Are we?”

  “I am. What are you talking about?”

  He reaches toward me, his index finger tracing my cheek just below my scar. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  It’s all I can do to keep my composure as his touch drifts from my cheek to my ear. He traces the top of my ear, down to my lobe, before finding his way to my neck. At this point I’m hoping his statement has truth. I want to appear unmoved by his ministrations, but my knees threaten to buckle at the sweet sensation that now tingles far past the point of his physical touch.

  “What about you?” I ask. “You appear to be cool, controlled. You hang out in the jungles of the worlds, with ferocious prey all around, yet the thought of committing to one female seems to shatter your world. Are you who you appear to be?”

  His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he draws me toward him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close in an embrace as gentle as one would hold a baby, yet strong enough to know he means it.

  My head rests on his shoulder, and I’m not sure who’s consoling who.

  “Sometimes,” he starts, “I have no idea what’s in store for me. I do know what I’m called to and what my passions are. But there are times when I’m surprised where God leads me.”

  He speaks the last sentence low and throaty, like the words can barely come out. Like speaking them is an admission of something dreadful.

  I wonder if he is thinking about Leah.

  “You are so in tune to who God is.” I’ve never known anyone to speak so boldly of God.

  The comforting feeling of his hands lightly stroking my back could become addicting. Stephen brings a measure of security I’ve never felt with anyone.

  Yet, being around Stephen brings out my insecurities in a way I’ve never experienced.

  AS STEPHEN AND I walk out the front door, an anticipation I haven’t felt in a long time consumes me. Stephen is escorting me next door to Ann’s house, which she apparently inherited earlier this year.

  Talk about an inheritance.

  The mid-morning sun shines, and I’m glad I remembered to use my sunscreen lotion on my face and arms. While it’s only a short walk, the sun doesn’t need much time to do damage.

  “Thank you for going with me.” I hope he knows I really mean it.

  “I’m going to ‘break the ice’ then I’m leaving. Hanging out with two women talking about clothes isn’t my idea of fun.”

  “Besides roaming around the jungles, what is your idea of fun?”

  “Right now it’s calling Gary and telling him you broke my heart. I need to do that soon. Today, preferably.”

  Thankfully my steps don’t falter with my heartbeats. It’s ridiculous of me to think anything less would happen, but Stephen’s gentle side has drawn me in to a place unfamiliar, yet intriguing. His boldness, though, reminds me reality reigns. “I’m glad I didn’t break your heart before you helped me out here. That would have been devastating for me.”

  “And there’s no good reason for both of us to be devastated, right?”

  The way his words make me laugh warms my heart.

  As we near the end of the driveway, Stephen stops. “Hey. There’s Ann in the gazebo.”

  My gaze turns to the middle of the cul-de-sac, where the big, white gazebo sits. Ann is walking around the grassy area, notebook and pen in hand. Her hair is piled on her head in a loose knot, her jeans and T-shirt giving her the perfect girl next door look.

  Exactly what I’m looking for.

  Stephen and I start walking across the street when she spots us. Immediately her hand goes to her hair, like she’s trying to smooth it. Her smile is hesitant, but it’s there.

  “Hello,” Stephen calls out.

  She returns the greeting and waves.

  “All ready for the big day?” Stephen asks as we step onto the grassy area of the cul-de-sac.

  “Pretty much. I’m just making some last minute notes. Four days left.”

  “Has it been stressful?” I recall most of my friend’s weddings. Crazed-out brides and nervous mothers seemed to rule the wedding mantra.

  “Not really. It’s a small wedding. Simple. We both have small families, and we only invited a few friends.”

  Ann’s gaze doesn’t meet mine. She has no problem looking at Stephen. And I don’t mean in a flirtatious way. It’s like she feels comfortable with him, even though they’ve only met.

  She doesn’t appear comfortable around me at all.

  Which won’t bode well if I’m photographing her.

  “What made you decide to tie the knot here?” My goal? To generate some casual conversation before I ask the big question.

  Or favor.

  Whatever category my request falls under.

  “My mom married my dad here, years ago.”

  Still her gaze remains anywhere but me. If I was the type of person that cursed, I would probably be cursing my scar here and now. “That’s nice. I guess they had a great marriage.”

  Ann laughs. “No, actually, it didn’t even last three months. It’s a complicated story. But I know they loved each other. So that’s what I believe in. The love.”

  A dreamer? She seems so grounded. “I think it’s sweet that you chose their spot.”

  The conversation is awkward, with nothing more to say. It would be a great time for Stephen to step in. I gently tap his arm, hoping he’ll catch my signal.

  He better unless he wants to stand here all day.

  Which is something I don’t want to do. I’m already wishing I had covered my arms. Brilliant rays of warmth are such a contrast to what I’m used to this time of year.

  “Well, Ann, I believe Jenny would like to talk to you. So, I’m going to head back to the house. I’ll see you Friday night. Tell Brett hello for me.”

  Stephen steps in front of me, brushing a quick kiss across my lips before leaving. I can’t comprehend his behavior until I remember Ann thinks we are engaged.

  Stephen certainly knows how to play the role of a committed guy.

  Too bad it’s only a role.

  I honestly think I can become used to his touches and kisses.

  Maybe I already have.

  With that unsettling thought, I turn my attention toward Ann.

  “It’s pretty obvious he’s crazy about you.” Ann continues to jot notes as she speaks.

  That word obvious. The same word Alice or Gary used when stating we were in love.

  Like Stephen said earlier this morning, appearances can be deceiving.

  “Oh, look.” Ann points to the railing of the gazebo where a blue butterfly has landed.

  Its fluttering wings mirror how my insides feel when Stephen kisses me, while the blue on the wings remind me of his eyes. I doubt I’ll ever be able to see a blue butterfly and not think of Stephen Day.

  Good thing I’m not an outdoor gal.

  BEWILDERED

  MY FEAR OF BECOMING sunburned has officially taken over. “Do you mind if we sit in the gazebo?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  I follow her a few steps to the beautiful white structure. She settles on one bench, I settle on another, grateful for the shade. I’m hoping the pinkish tint to my skin is my overactive imagination.

  “What colors are you using in your wedding?” I ask, deciding we need that little icebreaker Stephen talked about, before I pour out my broken heart to her.

  “We’re using reds and whites. Keeping the Christmas theme is really important to us.”

  “I’m sure it will be beautiful. Are you going on a honeymoon?” Might as well establish a timeline wh
ile the conversation warrants it.

  “No. Actually we leave for Peru the day after Christmas. My mom and her husband will be in town for the wedding and Christmas. My aunt Venus as well. We planned this all so we can have some family time before heading to Peru.”

  Okay, so I heard what she said after she stated they were leaving the day after Christmas, but honestly it didn’t register or stick. I now realize I have about a week to accomplish the one thing that has the possibility of landing me a new career.

  And I’m unfamiliar with this strange nudging which is leading me to place my hope in a woman I met briefly yesterday and now seems incredibly uncomfortable in the presence of me.

  “I have a confession to make.” Ann’s statement is loud and hurried, her gaze darting from the ceiling, back down to eye level, left, then right. Everywhere but toward me.

  I notice her legs are crossed and her dangling foot is moving at a speed that can only be considered breakneck nervous.

  Or uncomfortable.

  Or how about, I-want-to-be-anywhere-but-here.

  My heart sinks as I realize a photo session with Ann probably isn’t going to go well. SunKissed! represents fun, lazy, summer days. Maybe a beach wedding. Relaxation.

  The exact opposite of Ann’s body language.

  And isn’t photography about the body language?

  Better to hear her out now than have her decline my request. “Okay. Confess.” I smile when I say the words.

  Inside I’m not smiling.

  Her gaze rolls once more to the ceiling of the gazebo, then, amazingly, settles on me. My face. Our gazes connect, and I see unexpected warmth in her green eyes.

  Eyes I want to capture in a photo.

  Tingles reign over my body. Stephen’s words are coming to life. I’m seeing beyond what is actually on the surface.

  Ann has to say yes.

  She smiles briefly.

  “Here goes. I’m pretty star struck around you. You’re beautiful and poised and sure of yourself. I’m just a girl whose crazy circumstances led me to the mansion here. I feel like an imposter, I guess.”

  So while I’m sitting here in awe of her, she’s sitting here in awe of me.

 

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