Happily Ever After

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Happily Ever After Page 8

by Jenn Faulk

~Cammie~

  An international flight for Camille Evans always involved a lot of drugs.

  Back when she’d felt the call to foreign missions, she’d never actually been on an airplane. Her first experience with flying had been to a training session in Virginia, and before she even left the ground in Dallas, there had been an issue with the plane. Once the small airline deemed it safe to fly, they took off with Camille nervously chewing her lip and looking out the window, wondering at every bump and sway, praying silently that they’d make it.

  Then, there was smoke. Not a good smoke, though Camille didn’t know it at first since she’d never been on a plane, of course. They’d landed in Little Rock to switch planes, and it was a miracle that Camille didn’t declare Arkansas as good enough for a lifetime, refusing to ever fly again. The anxiety had only gotten worse with every flight, until she’d gone to a doctor, asking for a prescription. Magic happy pills.

  It made flying possible, reaching the nations a reality.

  And it made for crazy weird dreams.

  Camille was nearly to Namibia when her sleep gave way to fanciful imaginings. Crazy stuff. Jumping off skyscrapers. Being lost in a jungle. Going to a wedding only to find herself standing alone as the last single woman on earth when the bride went to throw the bouquet.

  Scary stuff.

  Then, it just got weirder, as it transitioned from bizarre scenarios to real memories. Scenes that had really happened, so long ago.

  She was sitting on one of the couches in the youth room at New Life-Dallas.

  Well, that wasn’t quite right. She was actually lying down on the couch because she was the only one there. The youth room was full of teenagers during services and on the odd weekends, the Wednesday night discipleship groups, and the events that Jay, her youth minister, was always putting together. It was hard to find a seat most times, let alone have enough space to stretch on out like she was.

  But she was there when no one else was, long after her girls’ Bible study had concluded. She’d been walking a group of junior high girls through the book of Ephesians that semester, and their meeting time just happened to coincide with the hospitality committee her mother led alongside Phoebe Connor, the pastor’s wife. So, Camille always hitched a ride with her mother and always found herself stuck at the church, much later than she would have preferred.

  That hospitality committee could go on for hours and hours.

  She was resting her eyes, her mind running through a long list of tasks that she had ahead of her once she finally got home. Geometry homework, reading another chapter for English literature, calling Chelsea to double-check when she was supposed to babysit her niece and nephew, so that she and Kyle could go out to dinner to celebrate their anniversary.

  Their anniversary. Their wedding anniversary. Their wedding hadn’t been much to write home about, honestly. At least not to Camille’s recollections, as she’d only been eleven back when her sister had gone to college and gotten married before the first semester’s grades were turned in. Simple and ordinary, unassuming and subdued, Kyle and Chelsea saying their vows without ever looking at anyone else, so consumed with one another that they could have been all alone, honestly.

  Her wedding was so NOT going to be like that.

  No, she was going to do it right. She smiled even as she imagined it. A big wedding. Huge, in fact. Right at New Life-Dallas. With so many people there, the whole church decorated just right, and the perfect groom, waiting at the front for her after she’d walked down the aisle, his lips ready to say –

  “Hey, Cammie, why are you smiling like that?”

  Her eyes popped open to find fourteen year old David Connor standing over her, watching her curiously. When her gaze met his, he grinned.

  “What?” she asked, wondering why he was up here at this hour.

  Probably hitched a ride with his mother as well.

  He shifted the guitar he was wearing. “I wanted to know why you were smiling. Good dreams?”

  “Not dreaming,” she said, sitting up and smoothing down her hair. “Just thinking through all I still have to do tonight when I get home. If I ever get home. Which you know all about, since you’re stuck up here doing the same.”

  “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m not stuck. Well, I mean, I’m here until my mother finally finishes her meeting. But I’ve been keeping busy.” With that, he sat next to her and balanced the guitar in his lap.

  “Busy,” she said, nodding at the guitar. “You’re learning to play?”

  “Sure am,” he smiled. “Only a week into lessons, and listen to this.” He strummed a chord... that didn’t sound quite right. “Awesome, huh?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she murmured, glancing at her watch. “How long did you practice that?”

  “Oh, just the last thirty minutes,” he said. “Went to do that when your girls’ group let out. Which is when my group let out.”

  “You’re in a group, too?” she asked, thinking about how there weren’t any groups other than hers scheduled for the middle of the week like this.

  “Well, not a group,” he said. “Just me and Jay, talking about Scripture.”

  Cammie narrowed her eyes at this, surprised to hear that David did this. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah,” David said, studying his fingers, going for another chord apparently. “We meet every week. Just like you meet up with your group. Hey, listen to this.” Another chord. Poorly done.

  And followed by a huge smile over at her.

  “David,” she gasped, grabbing his face with one hand, pushing his cheeks in, and very nearly making him drop the guitar as he jumped at her touch.

  Well, that was weird. But not as weird as the sight of his teeth, finally free from their braces.

  “When did that happen?!” she exclaimed.

  “When did what happen, Cammie?” he managed, even as she still squeezed his face.

  “Your braces are gone!” she said, letting go of him and smiling.

  He rubbed his face just a little, looking at her and smiling himself. “This morning,” he said. “The orthodontist yanked them all off. My mouth is still sore.”

  “That probably didn’t help, then,” she said. “Me grabbing you like that. I was just so surprised! You look different without them!”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his guitar, trying for yet another chord. “Mom got me out of school and took me over there. We weren’t even expecting that they’d come off today, but they said it was time. Hurts so bad I had to drink a milkshake for lunch. And I feel all slimy now.”

  “Maybe because your nose is running,” she said, nodding at his face.

  “Oh, my bad,” he said, turning his head to wipe his nose on his shirt. “Hey, listen to this, Cammie.”

  Another chord.

  “Wow,” she said, unimpressed. “All of... what? Three chords?”

  “I’ll be able to join the youth praise band in no time at all,” he said, grinning. “Will be able to play some backup for you while you sing.”

  “High hopes,” she said.

  “I can’t wait,” he said. “You have such a great voice.”

  “Thanks, David,” she said, surprised by this compliment. She’d only been singing with the youth praise band for a few months. Not even long enough for anyone to even notice.

  Except for David, obviously.

  “And I’m sure you’ll be... just great,” she offered. “Once you learn some more chords.”

  “Totally what’s going to happen,” he grinned, studying the guitar in his hands. “Always have lots of time to practice when I’m up here. Mom can talk and talk and talk at her meeting. Won’t get home until late tonight.”

  “I know,” Cammie sighed, leaning back on the couch again. “I guess Charity and Hope didn’t come up with you?”

  “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re still at home. Dad tried to get them to lead groups like you’re leading, but Charity has cheerleading. And Hope? Well, she scares off the junior high g
irls.”

  Cammie smiled at this, thinking of her high-strung friend. “She’s a little different, isn’t she?”

  “Just a little weird,” he confirmed. “But you’re great. The girls in your group are always talking about you. I think they want to be you, Cammie.”

  Just like Cammie had wanted to be her sister for a while, back when Chelsea had walked with her through Scripture. Just like Cammie had wanted to be like the older girls in youth, back when she’d been in junior high, and they’d been so good to befriend her.

  Foundations had been laid that would last a lifetime, surely. All because of young women who had taught her Scriptural truths. Cammie was glad to be able to do the same, even if it was just one night a week.

  “Maybe that’s just the way it is when you teach someone, huh?” she said. “You probably want to be just like Jay, right?”

  David kept strumming the guitar, a wondering look on his face. “Nah, not really.”

  “Your dad, then? I mean, he must teach you things about Jesus all the time.”

  David very nearly laughed at this, glancing over at her. “He does. But, glory, no. I don’t want to be just like my dad.”

  Cammie wondered at this briefly, at the commanding presence their pastor had, of the way he could move an entire auditorium of people, of the way he spoke the truth so unapologetically... so harshly at times.

  David likely didn’t have it in him to ever speak with such authority. Goofy, little kid.

  “Who do you want to be like, then?” she asked, glancing at her watch and willing the time to pass more quickly so that she could get on with her life.

  “I just want to be like Jesus,” he said.

  And before she could say anything, Camille, half a lifetime and half a world away, felt her eyes fly open as the plane hit a patch of turbulence.

  The pills were wearing off. The dreams were still strange, of course, but even now they were just remembrances of what had happened, not fabricated imaginings.

  But David Connor...

  She felt a little embarrassed that her subconscious had produced any kind of recollection of him. Of course, a lot of her memories involved him, given how much a part of his sisters’ lives she’d been back then and how often they’d been together.

  Dreaming about him, though, had never been an issue. Not until they’d been at that missions event in Dallas two weeks ago.

  Yes, she’d said goodnight to him at her door, after hearing him say so many wonderful things about his life’s work, after wishing him well, and after chiding herself for wishing that he wasn’t leaving so soon. She’d gone into her room, resisting the urge to go back out, knock on his door, and force her contact information on him, as though he wanted to get in touch with her.

  As if she wanted him to get in touch with her.

  She’d berated herself for thinking this way about her friends’ weird little brother, reasoning that she was being silly, even as she slipped into bed and turned off the lights.

  Then, she dreamt of him.

  Oh, wow. And it was a crazy weird dream, too. Side by side with David, working with him, discipling teenagers with him, leading worship next to him... and afterwards, leaning over and laying a giant smooch on him, kissing smelly, sweaty, squeaky David Connor, right on the lips, very nearly knocking him right over in her exuberance.

  That kiss? That dream kiss? Was good. Really good. And it might have led to more had she not woken right up at the right time.

  Whoa. And she hadn’t even been on her magic happy pills when her mind created that one. It was all Camille, that dream was.

  As the plane continued its descent, she shook her head free of the thoughts, finally feeling some clarity. Not about David Connor and all the crazy thinking she’d done regarding him but about moving on, moving towards what was next.

  She was coming out of the fog and, she noted, as she looked out the window, coming up on a small city. David Connor could be anywhere on this huge continent, and so, she put him out of her mind.

  “It looks like we’ll be landing ahead of schedule,” the pilot’s voice rang out over the intercom. “Cloudless, sunny day below for a smooth landing. Welcome to Windhoek.”

  Thirty minutes later, Camille was through passport control.

  With her bags in her hands, her makeup refreshed, and her hair redone, she made her way out into the arrival lounge, ready for the next assignment.

  It was always an anxious thing, anticipating the first few moments of the next thing. No matter how much she had already corresponded with those on the field or how well she felt she knew the job and the destination ahead, she always felt nervous taking those last few steps before the big welcome.

  But this time was different. The nerves were still there but for good reason.

  She looked around the small airport, wondering who she was supposed to meet, exactly. The personnel on the field had been oddly quiet, and Camille was left with no idea what she was even walking into in coming to this new place.

  Was there a team on the ground already? Were they all based in one location? Was there training to be involved at the beginning?

  She had no answers for any of it and literally no idea who she was supposed to be meeting. She bit her lip for a moment, still confidently walking forward to where a few groups of people were gathered, waiting for passengers. Her eyes fell on each group, skipping over their faces, wondering –

  “Hey, are you... you’re from the board, aren’t you?”

  Camille took in a breath at the voice, putting a smile on her face and readying herself for the introductions to begin.

  But there was just one woman standing there. She’d been sent to a country with only one missionary. A woman. With bright orange hair, a tank top, shorts... and was that dirt on her face?

  How odd.

  The woman seemed to be thinking the same thing as she looked Cammie over, puzzlement in her eyes. “You’ve got to be from the board,” she said simply. “I mean, I can spot you missionaries from miles away.”

  Well, this was even more odd.

  “Yes, I’m from the board,” Camille offered, holding her hand out. “I’m Camille Evans, your new worker. And you are?”

  “You’re a woman,” the other woman said. Then, she smiled. And laughed out loud. “Oh, wow.”

  Camille bristled at this. “Well, yes. Do you mind telling me what’s so funny?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. “I just got a weird sense of deja vu. And we just expected that... well, this changes plans.” She took a breath. “Well, welcome, Camille. I’m Kaitlyn Smith. But you can call me Kait.”

  “Kait,” Camille repeated, shaking her hand, vowing to move past the odd comments. “You’re with the board as well, then?”

  “Oh, no,” Kait said, picking up Camille’s second bag and leading them out of the airport. “I was. For years. But not anymore.”

  Then why was she here picking up mission personnel? And what did she mean, she was but not anymore?

  “You’re an American?” Camille asked. “I mean, your accent and all.”

  “I am,” Kait grinned. “And Namibian, too. Permanent residence. Came here years ago then stayed. Applied for citizenship, and here we are. It’s a total God thing, but that’s another story for another time.” She pointed the key bob in her hand towards a small car that chirped back at her. “You up for a drive?”

  Camille tugged off the jacket she’d been wearing, surprised by the high temperatures as they moved out into the sunshine.

  There were so many questions.

  She asked what was sure to be the first of many.

  “Why are you picking me up if you don’t work for the board?” Better yet, how had she even known to look for someone?

  “I’m doing a bad job of explaining it all,” Kait smiled. “And I swear, I’ll answer your questions. But we’ve got to get to Tsumeb.”

  “Tsumeb?”

  “Up north,” Kait said. “I’m here, on behalf of th
e board, to take you there. I’m legit. I swear.”

  This was good enough for now. Because what was the other alternative? Hanging out in the airport until she could confirm something with someone more official?

  Kait seemed to know what she was thinking... and grinned.

  “Legit,” she said again. “I can recite the personnel manual for the board for you if you’d like, just to prove it.”

  Yeah, this wouldn’t be necessary.

  “Legit. Okay. So... Tsumeb, it is,” Camille said. “I take it there won’t be any training here in the capitol? With the rest of the team?”

  “Training?” Kait said, smiling. “Uh... no. And there really isn’t a team to speak of. But we’ll get to all of that.”

  The more Kait spoke, the less confident Camille felt about what she’d walked into here. No training, no team, and an introduction to the country alongside a woman who had once been with the board but now wasn’t... a woman who was now holding citizenship here with no explanations as to why.

  “We’ve got quite a trip ahead of us,” Kait said as they put the luggage in the car’s trunk. She looked at Camille and smiled. “I’ll explain more as we go. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

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