Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014

by Joyce Livingston, Gail Sattler, Joyce Livingston

  “I’ve played guitar for years. People have told me I’m pretty good. Maybe I can give you some pointers and a few lessons.”

  Phillip felt his heart stop beating for a split second. He’d been praying that he would find a way to spend more time with Grace without looking like he was tagging along with her and Neil like a lost puppy. Now God had provided a way to do that without stepping past the boundaries of her relationship with Neil, which Phillip found himself starting to struggle with.

  He swallowed hard and hoped his voice came out normally. “That would be great. I didn’t know you played guitar. I’ve been having trouble with the bar chord for—”

  “Good evening, everyone!” a male voice boomed from the speakers overhead. “Praise the Lord for a full house tonight!”

  A round of applause drowned out any opportunity he could have had to speak.

  Everyone in attendance listened while a young man on stage gave the audience a summary of what led up to the opening of the coffeehouse. Next, he gave the audience a challenge, offering a prize for patrons to think up a name for the new venture by the end of the evening.

  The lights dimmed, and another young man joined the first at the microphone. The first man gave the introductions about the musicians onstage, spoke about their upcoming CD, then expounded on how they would soon be branching out their ministry with their music.

  The featured singer signaled the musicians, the emcee walked off the stage, and then the music began.

  Rather than being rude and trying to speak over the music, Phillip settled into his chair to enjoy the show and study the guitarists, which was the primary reason he had wanted to come in the first place.

  However, suddenly his secondary reason for being there had become more important than the first.

  Grace.

  While he watched the singer, he thought of the previous Sunday, when he’d sat beside Grace in church. She sang every bit as good as the man on stage, with the obvious gender difference. If she played guitar as well as she sang, he could only imagine the combination and anticipated the day he could hear her for himself. Naturally he would ask her to sing while she played something for him during a guitar lesson. But, to take that one step further, her ability to play guitar and sing well presented countless ministry opportunities.

  He knew she would never stand at the front of the church to sing and play guitar, but there were many other ways to use her talent for the Lord’s work. Youth-group functions. Ladies’ ministry functions. He wondered why she wasn’t in the church choir, as her absence was a definite loss to the congregation.

  During a quiet moment in one of the songs, something brushed him. He turned his head to see Grace’s small hand resting on his forearm.

  Instead of staring at her hand, he raised his head to look at her face, which was a mistake.

  Her adorable smile and warm, brown eyes did funny things to his stomach.

  Very gently, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. The warmth of her hand nearly burned him, even through the fabric of his shirt. His pulse started beating erratically.

  “They’re really good, and I’m having a wonderful time. This was a great idea. Thanks.”

  Despite the warmth of the large room, Phil broke out in a cold sweat. A couple of days ago, something strange had come over him, and he’d wanted to kiss Grace. He’d shaken it off as a bout of temporary insanity. Except, the insanity had returned. He wanted to kiss her again.

  If they hadn’t been in a public place. . .

  And if she wasn’t dating his best friend. . .

  The sweet latte in his stomach suddenly turned sour and went to war with the pretzels he’d been nibbling.

  Phillip shook his head, then nodded. “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice coming out like someone was squeezing his throat. But it wasn’t his throat being squeezed. It was his heart.

  He was falling for his best friend’s girlfriend.

  The realization of what was happening hit him like a ton of bricks.

  “Phil? Are you okay? You look funny all of a sudden.”

  His throat constricted, but he forced himself to speak past it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe this coffee is too hot or something.”

  Her brows knotted like she obviously didn’t believe him. “If you need to go home, that’s okay. I don’t mind, and I’m sure Neil and June won’t mind either.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  The song ended, and the audience gave the band a rousing round of applause, sparing him from having to respond.

  Phillip clapped along numbly.

  Grace’s concern for his health drove another nail into his heart. Throughout his life, through his own experience and the experiences of his friends, Phillip had thought there was nothing more pathetic than falling for someone who didn’t feel the same way. Now, he knew different. Not only was Grace obviously not interested in him the same way as he was, she was in love with someone else. And it couldn’t have been just anyone. She was in love with his best friend.

  What made the whole thing more disturbing was that he’d walked into the situation with his eyes wide open. He’d been perfectly aware of the relationship between Neil and Grace from the first time he’d started spending so much time with Grace.

  Whether Neil realized it or not, Phillip now understood why Neil never brought Grace over to their place when he was home or why Neil didn’t encourage Phillip to socialize with them. The potential for disaster had been there all along.

  Likewise, Grace had been right to invite her friend along. Unfortunately, meeting June when he had was apparently too little, too late. Not that he didn’t like June; she just wasn’t Grace.

  The lead singer didn’t give the audience time to wind down their applause. Instead, he encouraged everyone present to stand and join in with the band on a contemporary chorus and an old hymn done in a way Phillip had never heard before.

  As the song ended, the music quieted, and the leader encouraged anyone present who wanted to receive Christ into their hearts to come forward. Phillip had experienced invitations for new believers to come forward at his church often, but he had never seen them being made at what was mostly a social gathering. Therefore he didn’t know what to expect.

  The whole place was charged with emotion when a number of people stepped forward. A surge of joy tightened his chest, even though he didn’t know a single one of God’s newest children. He wanted to say something to Neil, but he found he couldn’t speak.

  Beside him came the sound of a sniffle.

  He turned his head to see Grace, tears streaming down her face. “This is so beautiful,” she choked out. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Her tears of joy drove another nail into his heart. He wanted to take her and wrap his arms around her and hold her while she cried, as a way to share the heady moment with her.

  But he couldn’t. She belonged to someone else. To his best friend.

  “Here.” Neil reached to the center of the table, pulled a napkin out of the holder, and handed it to Grace. “I think you’d better blow your nose.” As she leaned forward to blow, Neil put one arm around her shoulder. “Feel better?”

  Grace nodded, still holding the napkin in front of her nose. “Yes. Thanks, Neil.”

  It suddenly occurred to Phillip that perhaps he should have been checking on June, who was officially his date. When he turned to June, her eyes were glassy, but she wasn’t crying.

  She sniffled delicately, then rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “That was really neat. I guess we’d better go. We all have to be up early for church in the morning.”

  Phillip nodded but said nothing. Going to church with Neil and Grace was going to be difficult enough, but sometime after church, he and Grace had plans to once more fix Dale.

  This time, Phillip told himself that, no matter what, he would have Neil present. And, after Dale was fixed for the last time, he wouldn’t allow himself to see Grace again until he had his errant brain cells under control.

 
; nine

  “Grace? Neil wasn’t expecting you. He’s not home.”

  Grace smiled. “That’s okay, Phil. I’m not here to see Neil. I’m here to see you.”

  His face paled, which strengthened her concern that something was wrong.

  Yesterday after church, all three of them had gone to her apartment to restarch Phil’s Christmas angel. Nothing specific had been said, and it was nothing she could put her finger on, but all day she’d had the feeling something was wrong. Neil had been the same as he always was, but Phil had been different—uncharacteristically quiet and unusually serious. The same as the evening before at the coffeehouse, she’d asked him if he was feeling sick, but he claimed he was fine. She didn’t think he was, but she couldn’t call him a liar.

  To make matters worse, when she’d offered to make coffee after they’d finished their project, not only had he turned her down, he’d also been in a rush to leave.

  She had to know why. If it was something she’d said or done to upset him, she’d never forgive herself.

  “Sorry to drop by unexpectedly. I tried to call, but I forgot to charge the battery on my cell phone. I decided to take a chance that you were home, and here you are.”

  She stood in the doorway, waiting.

  Phil also stood in the doorway. He wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he peeked over her shoulder at her car parked on the street, then up into the night sky, to the bag in her hand, then down to her guitar, which rested at her feet on the porch.

  She held out the bag. “I brought Dale. I put her over the heat vent last night, and she was dry when I got home from work today.”

  “That’s great. Thanks.” He reached out and accepted the bag. “I’m being so rude. Please come in.”

  She bent down to grasp the handle of her guitar case and followed him in, shutting the door behind herself.

  “You brought your guitar.”

  Grace grinned. “Brilliant observation, Sherlock.”

  “Why?”

  “Saturday you said you were learning to play. I was at my friend’s house for supper, and I had my guitar with me, so I thought I’d make a pit stop on my way home and give you an impromptu lesson. I also wanted to give Dale back as soon as possible.”

  “That’s really nice of you, but after I said that, I started thinking that maybe taking lessons from you might not be such a great idea.”

  Her hands faltered on the latch of the guitar case, but she recovered and continued to remove the guitar from the case. “Why not? I think it’s a great idea. It’s not like I’m going to charge you money or anything. I’ve been thinking recently that maybe I could teach lessons to make a little extra pocket money. This is a good way to see if I’m cut out to be a teacher. You don’t mind me using you as a guinea pig, do you?”

  “Uh, well, I guess not. I suppose I should go put Dale down and get my guitar.”

  He set Dale carefully in the center of the coffee table, paused, then smiled for a brief second as he gently ran his fingers over Dale’s delicate blond hair.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said and walked down the hallway toward his bedroom.

  While Phil was gone, Grace made herself comfortable on the new couch. She’d heard about the addition of furniture to their living room, first from Phil, then from Neil. Phil had been correct. The room was just on the verge of feeling overcrowded, but the two men had done an admirable job of arranging everything to make it fit. She could well imagine both of them in the room, each one stretched out on a couch, watching television together.

  Phil returned with a polished black guitar and a small Fender amp.

  “I should have known you’d have an electric guitar. Mine’s an acoustic. I don’t require electricity to play.”

  “I guess it’s a guy thing.” For a split second, Phil smiled. It was good to see the old Phil back, even if it was only for a moment. He positioned the amp on the other side of the coffee table, then sat beside her and picked up his guitar. “There’s not much room in here. Good thing my amp is small and I’ve got a long patch cord.”

  “Can I see the book you’re using? That would give me a good idea of where you are in the learning curve.”

  “Oh. Good idea.” Phil stood, leaned the guitar against the couch, and once more disappeared into his bedroom.

  As she waited, Grace thought about the last time she’d been in the same room and the differences beyond the obvious extra furniture.

  Almost every other time she’d been at Neil and Phil’s house, it had been when Phil wasn’t home. Today, instead of the television blaring, soft music played in the background. A book lay open and pressed down, displaying the title of a current mystery by a popular Christian author.

  Before she could read the back cover completely, Phil returned, a book and a stack of paper in his hand. “Here it is. I also printed a bunch of stuff off the Internet. Some of these are songs we do in church on Sunday morning. But like I said before, I’m not very good yet.”

  “We all have to start somewhere,” Grace mumbled as she paged through his book. “The first thing we should do is tune up together. I’m not going to make you get up again. I brought my own tuning meter.”

  As it turned out, Phil did have to get up again, but this time only to unplug his patch cord from the amp into the meter while he tuned his guitar. They both laughed when he got up to plug the guitar into the amp again, then one more time to turn off his CD player so they could begin for real.

  Grace moved Dale aside on the coffee table to make room for the book and all the music, then pushed the book toward Phil. “Let’s start by playing this one. Are there any chords here you don’t know?”

  “No, I’m fine with that one.”

  His playing was a little choppy, but nothing a little practice and confidence wouldn’t fix. They worked through a couple of lessons, and even in the short time they were together, Grace could already see an improvement.

  When they were done, Grace couldn’t help but smile when Phil shook his left hand in the air.

  “Ouch. I can both see and feel the lines the strings have dug into my fingers. I think I need to work on my calluses a little more.”

  “Regular practice will cure that. And regular lessons. What do you say we set aside every Monday evening? It seems to be a time when neither of us makes other plans.”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Grace.”

  His words sent a chill into her heart. All day long she’d wondered what she’d said or done to hurt him. Trying to imagine all was fine and bringing over her guitar may have broken the ice for a couple of hours, but it had not gotten rid of the problem like she had hoped, obviously unrealistically.

  She’d thought and thought about it all day and couldn’t come up with any good reason why he’d been acting so strangely. Usually confrontations terrified her, but she couldn’t figure this one out for herself, no matter how hard she tried. This time, she had no alternative but to ask him what was wrong. Otherwise, she risked letting the problem fester until it was past the point of healing. She couldn’t let that happen with Phil.

  The risk involved completely outweighed her fear of facing him, even if the answer hurt. Earlier, he’d expressed the view that he didn’t want to take guitar lessons from her. She hadn’t given him a chance to respond; she’d barged in and given him the lesson whether he’d wanted it or not. She couldn’t believe she possessed such courage or such gall, except that she’d actually done it.

  But now, the moment of truth had come.

  Grace swallowed hard, then forced herself to smile. All she could say was, “Why not?”

  “You know. Because of Neil. And stuff.”

  A wave of relief surged through her. Whatever was bothering him wasn’t her, even though she didn’t quite know what it really was.

  She summoned what little was left of her courage and looked him straight in the eye, even though the effort almost hurt. “Can you define ‘stuff’?”

  He swiped one h
and through his hair, then folded his hands tightly in his lap. “Lately you’ve been seeing more of me than you have been of Neil.”

  “Is that all? Don’t worry about Neil. He doesn’t mind. We’ve had extenuating circumstances with Dale getting damaged, so that was just temporary. Besides, I don’t have to account to him for every minute of my time. It’s not like we’re married or anything. And even if we were, he wouldn’t be my lord and keeper. This is the twenty-first century, after all.”

  Phil’s eyes widened. “Do you think you might get married someday?”

  “I. . .” Grace let her voice trail off. She didn’t know how he knew, but she had been thinking of marriage recently. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it all started the day they named Dale. On that day, Phil had mentioned that he was thinking about settling down, and she had started to think of the possibilities of one day getting married herself. Because of that, since their outing Saturday night, when she hadn’t been thinking about what she could have done to hurt Phil’s feelings, she’d been thinking of the possibilities for Phil and June. She hadn’t yet talked to June, but she couldn’t see June not liking Phil, considering how much she liked him.

  “I think most single people my age think about marriage, women probably more than men.”

  Suddenly, Phil stood. “Neil should be back soon. Would you like it if I made a pot of coffee?”

  Grace stood as well. “I’ll help.”

  Phil’s weak smile sent shivers to her heart. “I don’t think it’s a lot of work to put on a pot of coffee, but if you want to risk seeing my messy kitchen, that’s fine with me.”

  The kitchen wasn’t as bad as she imagined it could be for two single men living together, especially having dropped in unannounced, although it wasn’t tidy by any stretch of the imagination.

  Not a word was said as Phil dumped out the old grounds, inserted a new filter, and began to measure the new coffee.

  Grace leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, hoping to look relaxed when she was feeling anything but. For a few seconds she held her breath while she summoned her courage to ask the next question. “I have to ask you something. What did you think of June?”