It was only the next morning that his mistake really hit him. He had loathed himself for a long, long time. He’d stayed away from the church, his mother. Until finally, he’d had to go back to church. He knew it was true and knew it was the only thing that could heal him. But it had been a long road.
When Marsal had shown up, he’d looked at it as a chance to make things right between them. When she’d kissed him at the restaurant, he’d immediately told her it wasn’t going to happen like that. But she’d vehemently said that she wasn’t expecting anything and that really, truly, she just wanted to learn more about the church and discuss Africa with him.
He’d convinced his mom to stay with him while Marsal was visiting, so there would be no misunderstanding on anyone’s part. He’d even confided in Marsal about Sara. And she’d seemed genuinely happy for him.
But today, after Sacrament when the missionaries were giving Marsal another discussion, Beau had gotten the distinct prompting that Marsal needed to leave.
Marsal went to her room and packed. She came back and dragged the rollers of her bag across the wooden floor to his front door.
Beau didn’t look at her. He could hardly focus. What had he done to Sara? The look on her face. His chest felt hollow. The pain that had crossed Sara’s face was unbearable. He grabbed his keys from the counter. “I’ll take you to the airport.”
She was quiet then took a letter out of her purse and pushed it at him.
Beau took it. “What is this?”
“The Nigerian Project.” Her words were perfectly enunciated, and she ran her tongue over her front teeth. “There’s lots of money, Beau. The upside is huge. It just needs some funding. Basically it’s the same thing we’ve been doing, but a different part of Africa. It’s a much larger scale. And, of course, this project brings you returns.”
Anger surged in his chest. Beau narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “This is why you came?”
Marsal sighed. “Partly.” She pursed her lips together.
“So it was all a lie. Wanting to learn about the church was all a lie?”
Marsal folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. “I was a little interested.”
Beau glared at her and tapped the envelope into his hand.
“It’s more than just your money, Beau. I need your help. This project requires a lot of organization. Infrastructure needs to be implemented. And . . .” She looked down quickly then back up to him. “This project could be the real deal. It could make changes that could really make a difference. Clean water, schools, medicine; these are things that we’ve been helping to maintain.” She stomped her foot and frowned. Her eyes teared up. “Beau, whatever I’ve done please know this, this project will change lives, histories, villages . . . a nation.”
Beau shook his head and scoffed a little at her dramatics. “I’ve never been in this to make returns, Marsal.”
Marsal glared at him. He’d never seen her look so passionate. “This is not about the money, Beau. It’s about the people . . . the children.” She swallowed and stepped away from him. “I need somebody that cares.” She looked into his eyes. “I thought that might be you.”
Watching her for a moment, Beau thought this was the first time he’d really seen Marsal seem to care much about anything.
She watched his face, stepping toward him, then looked at his lips. “We could be amazing, Beau.”
Beau instinctively stepped away, repulsed. He realized the opportunity she was speaking of wasn’t necessarily just in Nigeria.
“Was it all an act, Marsal?” He pounded the counter, feeling like he’d been ensnared again.
A car pulled into the driveway.
She sighed and stepped back, collecting her bag. “It wasn’t an act, Beau. I wanted to see you. I thought maybe with the time that had passed—things might . . .”
She let out a soft laugh. “Beau, don’t be so angry.”
He couldn’t even talk.
She laughed louder, pulling her bag out the door. “I can’t believe I wasted my time.”
Confused, Beau followed her to the door. “Yep, I guess I’m a waste of time.”
“You’re in love with her, Beau. You really are in love with that—that—girl.”
Her ego was clearly bruised. Beau had denied her.
He ripped the letter open, glancing over a financial sheet and following her down the steps.
She was already in the car and rolled down the back window. “If you change your mind, Beau, Nigeria opens the first week in January. I haven’t found anybody to have on the ground there. It could be you.” A sad smile washed over her face. “Can I give you some advice?”
This was not what he’d expected from her. “Why not?”
“I’ve watched you the past few days. You’ve changed. Obviously, it’s been hard for you.” She put her head down. “She was my sister. I know what it’s like to miss her. And just because I don’t have the same standards you have, don’t think I haven’t tortured myself the past few years. I betrayed her. I know that.” She looked back up at him.
Beau didn’t say anything.
“I thought by coming here somehow it could be fixed. I thought that maybe there was something more to that night, something honorable.”
Beau sucked in a breath.
“But if I’ve learned anything from Valerie dying, it’s that you can’t stand back and let life pass you by.” She smiled at him. A real smile. “Go to her, Beau.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he rocked back on his heels. Marsal’s small concession of kindness surprised him. She had more depth than he thought she was capable of at this point. He exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s not that simple.”
She paused. “Just because I can’t commit to living the way you live doesn’t mean I don’t believe in something. That I want to believe in something.”
Beau looked into her eyes and his heart started to break. They were so like Valerie’s eyes. The truthfulness of the moment awakened something inside of him.
Marsal continued. “What did that Elder say today, the cute one?” Her voice softened. “I know my Savior loves me. I know that He loves you. And . . .” She bit her bottom lip for a moment and a tear fell down her face. “I know that the atonement is real.” She lifted her finger and pointed at him. “You see—you see . . .” Looking away she laughed again. “I tried to block everything the missionaries were trying to teach me, ya know?”
A tear went down his cheek. “Marsal . . .” Beau didn’t know what to do. A second ago he’d wanted her to just leave and never come back—ever again. But now, seeing her this way, he had hope that maybe she would see the trueness of that message.
“No, Beau.” She cut him off. “You see, I’ve got to get out of here for a lot of reasons.” She shook her head and pulled her sunglasses back into place. “But you don’t. You belong here. And you believe that stuff, right? That you can be forgiven, that you can start fresh?”
Chills ran through his body, starting on his arms and ending in his heart. There was great irony in this whole situation and now he laughed. He couldn’t help but think that Valerie was working very hard on the other side to show him this truth.
“Thanks, Marsal.” He sighed. Weren’t they all trying to gain forgiveness somehow? “Good luck, Marsal.”
She started rolling the window up. “If you change your mind, there’s always Nigeria.”
He watched the taxi drive away. He hoped that she would find faith. Suddenly, Beau couldn’t wait to explain to Sara. Everything. Completely everything. And how he loved her. He knew he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t. And she was probably better off with Jonathon. But after Marsal’s small and childlike testimony, how could Beau deny the truth?
He’d been working with Bishop Archibald, going through the steps of repentance. But still, he had felt unworthy. He’d felt broken. But now he knew that he couldn’t fix anything. But the Savior could. Maybe there was still a chance.
An hour later, Be
au parked his car at the institute and got out to walk to Sara’s house. He rounded the corner to her apartment. He stopped.
Sara stood in front of Jonathon.
And he was on his knee.
Chapter 38
A proposal was not what Sara was expecting. Her heart started beating fast and reflexively she pulled her hands over her mouth. “Oh my gosh.” How could he even still want her?
“Jonathon?” Her voice wavered, and she tried not to look at the ring he held out to her.
He pushed the ring up. “Sara, I’ve loved you since the day I met you. Do you remember that? And I had to meet you, because you wouldn’t let me pick you up at your house.” He laughed. “You wanted an escape route, remember?”
Her heart pounded and she forced back tears. “I remember.”
He laughed. “That summer meant everything to me. And the last two years you’ve been the girl I’ve wanted to come home to. The girl I’ve daydreamed about when I tried not to. The girl that wrote me every week.” His eyes teared up. “The girl I’ve loved.” He took a shaky breath. “I know you say we don’t know each other that well, but I think I know you. The letters we shared sunk deep into my heart. Sometimes I’ll find myself thinking of things you wrote. And then I realize that I’m home and there are no more letters.” He broke off. “It’s like . . . it’s like you’re always a part of me. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing. It always comes back to you, what you’re doing, what you’re thinking.” He kissed her hand lightly. “I think it always will.” His brown eyes were lit up, his smile bright.
The memories flew through her mind. Her letters. Her innermost thoughts she poured onto paper every week. She’d shared everything with him. And he’d shared everything with her.
“Marry me, Sara.” He stood and took the ring out of the box. He held it in front of her finger. “Marry me because you love me.” The passion and innocence burned straight to her heart.
She clutched her chest with one hand, overwhelmed by the feelings from long ago. The feelings she’d stored in her heart for two years. He could give her everything she wanted. Everything her dad had wanted for her. A vision of herself standing next to him in front of the Salt Lake Temple filled her mind. She stared at the ring.
Unexpectedly, Beau’s face washed through her mind. Swallowing hard, she pasted on a smile. A sense of purpose washed through her. The kind of purpose that she knew what she had to do. “Yes.”
“You will?” he asked it with disbelief.
“I will.”
Jonathon slipped the ring onto her finger and then swung her into a circle.
She laughed. And felt a tear press down her cheek. She swept it away and tried to get caught up in the moment.
“Wahoo!” Jonathon twirled her again and then put her down. “I’ll make you so happy, Sara. I promise.”
She couldn’t describe why her insides seemed to start shaking, but she was freezing. Her lower lip started to shake. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement, almost a shadow. She turned, seeing the back of a black leather jacket walking away from the side of her apartment.
He kissed her again, the warmth of his lips lingered over hers. “I’ve got to get on the road. But—I’ll call you.” He squeezed her tightly to him.
She watched him go and then stepped around the side of the apartment.
Nothing was there.
**
Sara went to the baptism and put on a very excited front for Rob.
Rob came over to her at the end and grabbed her into a hug. “I owe it all to you, you know.” His hair was still wet, and his whole face seemed to glow. “You agreed to come watch me perform. Good missionary work there.”
His joy was infectious, and she felt so happy for him. “You did it, Rob. You are so amazing!” And he was. “Is the plan still to go on a mission?” She slugged him gently in the shoulder and gestured to Linda.
“You bet.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Everyone needs to wait for a missionary, right?”
She smiled and touched the finger she'd just taken the ring off. She had placed it in her jewelry box. The one her father had given her when she’d turned six. She hadn’t even told Genova yet, who had burst into their apartment twenty minutes before the baptism and demanded to be updated on Sara’s love life.
It didn’t feel real yet. And she wasn’t ready to share the secret with everyone at the institute. She figured she’d already given everyone enough to talk about earlier in the day.
Rob studied her. “He’s not as bad as you think, you know that, right?”
Sara tried to act like she didn't know what he meant, but couldn't hold his eyes. “What are you talking about?"
Beau hadn’t even looked at her during the baptism. Her thoughts flitted to Valerie. She shuddered.
Rob let out a soft sigh. “You still have it bad for him.”
Sara shook her head. "No. I don't."
Rob scoffed and put his arm lightly over her shoulders. “Ten days, baby. Ten days until school is over.”
She nodded back at him. “Are you done with your business plan?”
“Almost.”
Genova and Kevin moved in to congratulate Rob.
Sara went to the foyer and grabbed her coat. She didn't look forward to the cold walk home.
Chapter 39
Her car overflowed with assorted luggage and gifts to take home for Christmas break. She parked next to the Ivinson Home and took care to watch her step with all the ice on the curbing and sidewalk. She held two Christmas bags—one for Martha and one for Larry.
Larry had made a remarkable recovery. Although he wasn’t back to his Saturday practices, yet, he looked happier than Sara had ever remembered seeing him.
And Martha seemed to be ten years younger. Last week, when Sara had visited them, Martha was back to dressing up with full make-up and bright red lipstick. Her natural love for life was even magnified with their wedding plans in motion. She talked nonstop about a spring wedding and the flowers that would be blooming in the garden at the church downtown. Sara reflected on the fact that it didn’t matter what age a person was—it seemed like there was always room for more love.
Sara moved straight for Martha's apartment. She'd asked her to have lunch before hitting the road for Kalispell.
Last week, when she’d announced her engagement to Jonathon, neither of them had looked surprised. She wondered what Beau had told them but couldn't bear to ask.
Plus, she was engaged now, why should she even care about Beau
When she’d given her final presentation and gone over her business plan, he’d simply smiled and nodded to her. “Thank you, Ms. Fairbanks, it looks like a great idea.” A surge of anger smarted through her. So cocky. Always so cocky.
She wanted to put this last semester behind her. And she wanted to see her brothers and Tim’s new little baby she hadn’t gotten a chance to play with yet. She also hated to admit that she wanted to get away from Genova.
When Sara had told her about her engagement to Jonathon, she'd acted . . . disappointed then tried to be extra cheerful and excited for her. Sara had ignored all the hurtful feelings and gone on as normal. They’d talked about their weddings and how fun it would be to be newly married together. Sara would be going to Loveland, Colorado for Genova’s wedding in two weeks. They were getting married in the Denver temple. But still, there were times when Genova remained silent and Sara knew what she was thinking . . . that things weren’t done with Beau.
But they were.
And the wedding was set for March 5.
She knocked on the door and slipped her Christmas smile into place.
The door flew open, and Martha pulled her into her arms. A light cinnamon fragrance filled the air, and Sara saw the whole apartment was decorated in lively Christmas décor.
Sara grinned and pulled away from Martha. “It looks lovely.”
Martha had on a red, satin dress with gleaming diamond earrings and a big diamond necklace.
"And you look amazing!"
Martha did her mock model pose. "Well, I thought I should do it up right on my wedding day.”
Sara gasped. "Wedding day?"
Martha took her hand and pulled her into the apartment. "It was Larry’s idea.”
This was not making sense at all. “What?”
“He called Bishop Archibald up two days ago and asked if he would marry us here, at the home.” She rushed on with excitement. “We just decided we didn’t have time to wait until spring, ya know.” She laughed. “Neither of us are getting any younger, and we want to be together, not shuffling between apartments.” She winked at Sara playfully.
Sara relaxed. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have helped."
Martha pulled her back out of the apartment. “We didn’t want a big, showy affair. We just wanted the people most important to us.” She laughed. “We didn’t even call our kids—they never visit anyway. We hired a caterer and the staff put up some decorations." Martha shut the door and paused. "Come on, now. We don’t want to be late. You’re the last one to arrive. Everyone is waiting for us in the cafeteria.”
Butterflies hammered into her stomach, and she heard the wedding march start in the cafeteria. “This is so great, Martha. I am so happy for you guys.”
Martha laughed. “I’m excited too.” She took Sara's hand and squeezed it. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
Tears burst into her eyes. She blinked and nodded. "Of course."
Martha squeezed her hand, again and laughed. “Here we go.”
They entered the cafeteria and the wedding march started again. An older gentleman Sara didn't recognize sat at a piano. Three rows of chairs with a walkway in the middle were arranged. Guests were seated. Most of the residents from the home were there. All done up with smiles on their faces. Larry sat in a wheelchair at the end of the isle. His mustache was perfectly combed, and Sara loved seeing how it curled a little at the edges.
Larry winked at her.
Martha pushed her forward. "The bride goes last, sweetie."
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