by Leah Atwood
It was early June and summer temperatures were in full swing. The late hour offered a mild reprieve from an insufferable heat wave.
“I made a decision this afternoon.” Their chairs were placed inches apart, and her arm brushed against him when she turned to look at him.
“Should I be worried?”
A soft chuckle broke the stagnant air. “Perhaps. I’ve given it a lot of thought and came to the conclusion I should buy a house instead of rent.”
“Ah.” His head moved in a slow bob. “How did you decide that?”
Not the level of enthusiasm she’d hoped he would display. “First, I don’t plan on leaving any time soon, so it makes financial sense to invest in a house.”
“Solid thinking.”
“Secondly, purchasing will provide me with a lot more options since I’m not finding much on the rental market.”
Dominic rubbed his chin. “A house is a big commitment.”
“You sound as though you don’t like the idea.” Disappointment pricked her. She’d been so sure he would support the idea.
“I don’t dislike it, but I know how impulsive you can be. You tend to act based on your heart and think later.” His brows rose, and he gave a closed-mouth smile.
She’d be insulted if what he said wasn’t the truth—except, in this case, she’d thought it through. “I’ll give you that, but I know this is the right choice for me.”
“And how will you secure a mortgage? Even if you use your trust fund for a down payment, all banks will require you to have gainful employment.”
“As of this afternoon, I do.” She broke into a broad grin, relieved to spill the news.
“Really? That’s great. Where?” He smiled, revealed his perfect teeth.
“The youth center. You’re looking at their new director.” Excitement entered her voice. “I got the call not long after we talked the first time today.”
He leaned over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I’m happy for you. You’ll do great.”
“I can’t wait.” Unconsciously, she leaned into him, not realizing it until the subtle hint of his cologne hit her nostrils. “The first few weeks here weren’t so bad because I was busy settling in, but I’ve been bored. This is the type of job I’ve dreamed of, one I’d hoped for back in North Carolina.”
“Understandable.” He released her and straightened in his seat. “Have you lined up any showings for houses?”
“No, but I fell in love with a house through its pictures.” She reached for the glass of tea she’d brought out with her and took a sip. “I wanted to get your opinion first.”
“On the house or the general idea of buying?”
“Both.” Still holding her cup, she wiped the condensation away with a finger. “You’ve always kept me in line when I made rash decisions.”
“Except for the one that mattered most,” he muttered.
All air in her lungs whooshed away. She set down her cup, stood and went to the rail, rested her hands on black painted wood. She bit her lip, willing no tears to come. The night had been so pleasant until now. Behind her, there was the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement. Seconds later she felt Dominic’s hands on her shoulders.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He paused but gently prodded her to turn around.
“It was true.” A shiver, brought by his touch, rippled over her.
“Yes, but it’s done and over, can’t be changed.” His hands rubbed her upper arms. “I still don’t understand why you did it, but I made the choice to forgive you.”
“But you can’t forget, can you?”
“No, but I mean what I said.” He shook his head. “Can we forget I said anything?”
“Fine.”
He lifted a brow. “You uttered the single word kiss of death.”
“Really, it’s fine.” Except she was reminded of how badly she’d hurt him. “So back to the house—what do you think?”
“If you’re sure that’s the route you want to take, then go for it.”
“What about you? Any big plans to move from your place?” Every night she worried about him being in that neighborhood, even though she’d found out he’d lived there for three years without any trouble.
“I’ve given it thought.” His arms dropped to his sides, and he turned to face the courtyard. “When I come back from the tour I’ll start house hunting. It’s time to lay down roots.”
Roots. The lone word latched on to her thoughts. Wasn’t that why she wanted to buy the house she’d viewed online? What happened if they both bought a house and their relationship led to where she hoped with a deep fervor that it would? Perhaps she shouldn’t rush into such a large purchase. But it was perfect, the house of which she’d always dreamed.
“Que sera, sera,” she whispered.
Dominic tilted his head and gave her an odd look. “What do you think is meant to be?”
“Time will tell.”
Chapter 15
An alarm rang, rudely interrupting Dominic’s sleep. He rolled over, fumbled for his phone and hit a button to silence the nagging beeps. His eyes barely had a chance to close when his alarm sounded again.
His vision hazy from a half-conscience state, he glanced at the screen and growled. He was supposed to leave in five minutes. And why was his alarm set for a different hour than normal? He snapped into gear. There was no way he’d have time to pick up Maisy for church without walking in halfway through the service. Thumbing through his phone, he called her.
“Good morning.” She was bright and chipper.
“Not so much.” He regretted grumbling. “I hate to tell you, but I overslept. Can you meet me at church?”
“Sure. You okay? You sound horrible.”
“Gee, thanks, but I’m just tired.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Didn’t leave the studio till two in the morning, then there was major road construction that delayed me another hour. Good news for people who won’t have to deal with it during the day, but it wasn’t fun to hit in the middle of the night.”
“Will you make it to church on time? Should I wait for you?” Her rapid succession of questions told him she was nervous about being there by herself.
“I might be a few minutes late, but I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He threw the navy blue comforter off his body and rolled out of bed, yawning. “Jay and Caroline, Adam and Elle, should be there. I think Bryce said he and Sophie are going to bring the baby for the first time. You won’t be alone if you wanted to go in and reserve a seat for us.”
“I can do that.” She took a long breath that sounded airy through the line.
“Do you remember how to get there?”
“Yes. It’s only a block over from the community center.”
“Ah, that’s right.” He went to his closet and chose a pair of khakis and an olive green polo shirt left over from his days at the music store. “I still have to jump in the shower. I’ll see you in a bit.”
After he had hung up, he tossed his phone on the bed and got ready for church. He didn’t like to rush but hated to be late. Lately, it seemed he rushed everywhere, which reminded him why his alarm had been set to a different time. Maisy and he had stayed up late talking Friday night, not hard to do when he didn’t get there until so late. By the time he got to his apartment, sunlight had been only a few hours away and he’d changed his alarm so he could catch a few extra hours of sleep, but still wake in time to run some errands before hitting the studio where he’d been until late last night.
The good news was that “Fast Dash Friday” was recorded and sent to the label execs. Mike Davies proved to be every bit the perfectionist Bryce dreaded, but there was no argument that the song was better due to his discerning ear.
Dominic jetted to the bathroom. He sprinted through his morning hygiene routine—shower, shave, brush teeth, comb hair. True to his word, he made it out the door in record speed and pulled into the church parking lot with three minutes t
o spare until the service began. Maisy stood outside the church doors, staring into space.
He rushed to park and strode to her. He took advantage of her concentrative state to study her. She wore a pink sundress with a shimmery skirt that ended two inches above her knees. As usual, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She had the genes to age gracefully, and he knew she’d be just as beautiful at the age of eighty as she was at twenty-three. He could only pray God would grant them those years together.
The sun reflected on a highlight in her hair. She looked vulnerable but ethereal, He wanted to kiss her—right here, right now—but the time wasn’t right. Their first kiss in four years was not going to happen in a church parking lot for all the public to see.
He’d waited all this time, he could wait a little longer. When he came back from the tour, he had a plan that would put into motion their life together. As part of that preparation, he’d taken a step yesterday in that direction. A huge step that had required an enormous level of faith in their future.
He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
She startled and jumped back an inch. “Hey to you too.”
“Didn’t want to go in?”
“I felt weird and conspicuous.” Her eyes shifted. “The seats surrounding everyone I knew were full so I came out to wait for you.”
“The piano’s playing.” He inclined his head to the door. “And I’m here, so shall we go?” He gave her a reassuring smile, glad she’d come. Of all people, he knew how hard it was to step into a church. His hand extended and took hold of hers. Their fingers laced and together, they walked in to find a seat.
***
Maisy sat on the edge of the wooden, red-cushioned pew, only vaguely aware that Dominic sat beside her. In her lap lay a Bible she’d taken from the pew in front of her. Her attention focused wholly on the preacher’s message, the words of his sermon etched into her heart and soul.
He hadn’t been joking when he’d said the good part would come this Sunday. For the last thirty-five minutes, he’d spoken of Job’s faithfulness to God. She was amazed to learn that Job had questioned God, even asked “Why me?” Was that not where she was at that exact moment? A book she’d known nothing about, had always thought outdated, proved itself relevant to her life.
She was angry with God. For taking her mother away when she was so young and in need of a mom. For giving her a controlling father. For allowing her to be backed into a corner and forced to hurt the person she loved the most.
Yet in the end, Job was rewarded for his faithfulness. Everything he’d lost had been returned to him. What could she have restored?
Dominic. The answer flashed before her with such clarity she gasped.
But she hadn’t remained faithful to God. How could she to a God in whom she hadn’t believed?
She didn’t want to make a decision based on selfish reasons. She wouldn’t accept him, simply to be assured of a relationship with Dominic. It didn’t take much schooling of the Bible to reasonably assume God didn’t work like that. The choice had to be made because she believed in him, regardless of what she could gain.
As the pastor closed the sermon, the question became, did she believe?
For months, she’d watched Roxy, witnessed the transformation in her and the peace she’d found. The same with Dominic, for a shorter length of time. Their new friends, all of them. Each of them had a story of God’s work in their lives, the changes he’d brought.
None of them had a perfect background—all had experiences that could have shaken their faith, made them question God’s sovereignty. Every one of them chose to believe.
There could only be one answer. God existed and she wanted to know Him.
A thirty-something lady took the stage and began to sing a song Maisy was not familiar with. The pastor stood before the congregation. He’d offered to pray with anyone who wanted to accept God.
She could wait, talk to Dominic about it afterward, then she wouldn’t have to walk in front of everyone.
Go now. I am by your side.
The voice was spoken softly, but firmly. It wasn’t Dominic. When she glanced at him, his eyes were closed, and she figured he was praying. She looked around her. No one paid her attention, no sign someone had spoken.
Go, my child.
A hot tear stung her eye. She knew what she had to do. She nudged Dominic, whose eyes flickered open and regarded her with interest. Unable to answer him through the myriad of emotions and thoughts swirling in her heart and mind, she inclined her head toward the aisle, indicating she needed out.
He moved and stepped away from the pew. She peered down the walkway and froze. The song was coming to an end—she could tell by the fading instrumental. Tempted to turn around, she subconsciously glanced at the now-empty spot beside Dominic.
His hand extended, and he squeezed her shoulder. She took a deep breath.
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, she found her way to the front.
Chapter 16
Maisy sat at her desk, eating her smoked Gouda and turkey on rye. She’d worked straight through the first half hour of her sixty-minute lunch break. It was the beginning of her second week on the job, and the differences between this community center and the one she’d worked at in Dillonton were astounding.
There were twice as many programs offered at this location with only half the budget on which Dillonton’s operated. The shoestring budget caused numerous obstacles including a building that was in desperate need of repair.
No wonder Ed Houser, the former director, had resigned. To Maisy’s relief, he’d agreed to stay on for a month longer and show her the ropes, even though he’d had to leave early today for a doctor’s appointment. She’d never realized exactly how much bureaucracy and red tape existed behind the scenes. Sure, she’d expected some, but nothing like she’d jumped into headfirst.
She took another bite of her sandwich and clicked on the email icon on her desktop. Several contractors had promised to send her quotes for the building repairs deemed most critical. Five new emails loaded, none of which were the work-related ones she’d been waiting to receive.
One was from her realtor. At first she skimmed the message to get the general gist. Since she was technically off the clock, she went back and took the time to read the lengthy note. The house her heart was set on was under contract. She sighed. With the new job, there hadn’t been time to schedule a showing until tomorrow evening, but now it was too late. She tried to tamp her disappointment by looking at the substantial list of comparable houses the realtor had included.
None jumped out at her as the initial one had, but maybe that was due in part to her regret at missing out on the other. Deciding to revisit the listings later with a clear mind, she closed the email. Another one was from her bank. More bad news. Her loan application was denied because of her unsteady employment history. The loan officer included a note at the end inviting her to reapply in six months, given that she was still at the same place of employment.
Maisy’s heart sank at the double whammy. She so badly wanted a house of her own, but that didn’t appear to be in her immediate future. The rejection took her appetite and she wrapped the remainder of her sandwich in a plastic baggie.
It occurred to her that she should pray. It was still new to her, but over the last week, she had discovered there was a real comfort found by talking to God. Immediately after finishing her prayer, she felt better, if not happy. There had to be a reason the house situation hadn’t worked out and she had to trust in that. Besides, it wasn’t a ‘no’, rather a ‘not now.’ There would be other houses—in six months, one might be on the market that she liked even better.
Two other emails were promotional ones, and the last, from Maureen. With a niggling guilt, Maisy skipped the message. She didn’t want to hear an update on her father, or contrive an excuse not to see him. Granted, her new position conveniently took care of the reason not to go, but her heart told her she needed to resolve the resentment. I
s that what everyone meant when they talked about conviction? Could be, but she wasn’t ready to face her father.
She closed out her email entirely and took a sip of tea before returning to work and busying herself with research. The center had an immediate need for funds, particularly for the after-school programs. For the remainder of the afternoon, she searched through old records, many of which were boxed in a dusty closet, and she made a list of previous donors, both individuals and corporations. She also examined multiple grant programs for which she could apply.
At five o’clock she shut down her computer and packed several files in her briefcase for review later that night. She flipped the light switch and locked her office, before walking to the gymnasium.
Wes Applegate, the man in charge of the summer and after-school rec program, jogged down the court, dribbling a basketball. A few teens ran behind him, chasing him on the court. The smiles on their face were all the motivation Maisy needed to procure the necessary funds. These kids needed this safe place in their lives. Wes raised his arms and shot the ball into the basket. It swished as it passed through the net, never touching the rim before bouncing on the floor and landing at her feet. Everyone’s attention turned to her.
“Afternoon, Ms. Rothchild.” The middle-aged man’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I was just showing these young ones how that this old man still has skill.”
“Aww, we let you win, Mr. Applegate.” A boy she recognized as Toby puffed his chest. Though the youngest of the teens playing, he was usually the most vocal.
Maisy laughed. “I’m sure you did, Toby.”
“Was there anything I can do for you?” Wes took the towel from around his neck and wiped away the beads of sweat.
“No, I just dropped by to tell you I’m headed out for the day and to remind you about tomorrow’s meeting.” She purposefully didn’t say what the meeting was about. The boys didn’t need to know about the center’s financial problems. This was their place to escape and she would ensure it remained for years to come.