by Jenn Faulk
~Cammie~
They had dinner with the family, where Charity and Hope talked over Charity’s husband, John, their two children, and everyone in a five mile vicinity. Paul Connor had to keep checking his phone with updates from the other conventions and preparations for the big event, and Phoebe had to keep turning in her seat whenever yet another person would come by to discuss the ladies’ events they had scheduled for the next day, hardly touching a single bite on her plate.
Cammie didn’t notice half of what went on, though, as she nodded absently at the twins’ ongoing dialogue, sitting quietly next to David, a fork in one hand and her other hand in his underneath the table. They exchanged no words, of course, but his fingers would slide through hers slowly and deliberately, his thumb would rub her palm comfortingly, and he’d squeeze her hand in his, barely refraining from lifting it into sight and up to his lips as he did so.
No words, but David had said plenty.
After dinner, they headed out to get ready for the big assembly and were intercepted by someone from the board not five steps outside of the ballroom. They were swept away again to go downstairs for another hour without a chance to say a private word to one another, to talk about what had happened, or to define much of anything.
Not that it needed to be defined. Cammie already knew what this was.
Love. Head over heels, happily ever after love.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, just as soon as they were done with the board representative, and she’d hurried with him onto the elevator.
He didn’t waste any time.
“So,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear, just as soon as the doors shut. She burrowed in closer to him, her head tucked down enough on his chest to hide her smile. “How did I do?”
She thought of how he’d carried himself with his father during that awful speech Paul had made, how he’d been diplomatic with the board representative, how he’d said the right things, offering just enough insight without agreeing to anything, and being, above all, so Christ-like in everything he’d done.
She loved him even more for it.
“You did great,” she said, looking up at him, delighted by the light in his eyes as he watched her. “You didn’t go off on your father or anyone else for that matter, which is nothing short of a miracle. You did just what you should have done.”
“I wasn’t talking about that, Cammie,” he said softly. “There’s a whole lifetime of that ahead of me. Enough time to worry about that later.”
“What were you talking about, then?” she asked.
“The kiss,” he said, smiling at her, whispering this.
And again, she felt warmth flood her. Excitement, too, as she became acutely aware of his hands at her waist, his arms pulling her closer.
David Connor. Who knew?
“Kisses,” she grinned back, whispering as well, even as she kissed his jawline softly. “Plural.”
“Yeah. First time I’ve ever kissed anyone,” he said, falling back into that familiar, amazing drawl, returning her kiss with one to her lips. “Wanted to make sure I did okay.”
“You did great,” she said, blushing, kissing him again and again. “Really great.”
“And this,” he said, looking at her. “You and me?”
“Wonderful,” she said, staring up at him. “Exciting.”
“Exciting,” he said, a laugh in his voice... then silence. “You deserve exciting.”
“I think everything about you is going to be exciting for a long, long while, David,” she said. “I mean, if that’s what you were.... well, intending...”
He hadn’t made any promises. She was assuming too much. Too eager, Cammie, too ready for this to be it, forever and ever, a happily ever after.
He put his hand to her face, looking down at her. “I was intending forever.”
Oh, the very thought. Amazing.
He was just as eager as she was. And just as certain.
“I’m going to be happy with you,” she said softly, rising up on her toes to kiss him again. “Happier than I thought I could be.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, bringing her even closer, kissing her again.
Before things could get too involved, the door to the elevator opened.
And Hope, after a short moment of looking at the two of them, wrapped in one another’s arms, stepped onto the elevator.
“Forgot my jacket in the room,” she said. “You two going upstairs?”
“Not together,” Cammie said, a little embarrassed to have been caught like this.
“I didn’t think that,” Hope said, pushing a button. She looked at her brother. “David Paul, you have lipstick everywhere.” She glanced over at Cammie. “Just how much lipstick did you put on this afternoon?”
“A lot. Stage lights,” Cammie murmured, blushing. “That’s what they said to do.”
“Did they tell you to blot it out on David’s body? Like you obviously have been?” Hope pointed at several spots on his face, his chin, his neck...
Oh, good grief.
“Uh... I should probably get it cleaned off,” David said softly, entirely missing the looks exchanged between the two women.
“Are you on the twelfth floor?” Hope asked him calmly, finally looking back to the numbered panel.
“Yeah.”
“Not me, I’m on the fourteenth,” she said. “How about you, Cammie?”
“Fourteenth as well,” Cammie answered.
“Okay,” Hope said, just as the elevator stopped. “Here you go, David. Twelfth floor. We’ll meet you downstairs.”
And David gave Cammie a helpless look as his sister held the doors open for him. She nodded to him encouragingly, and with a sad wave, David slipped out.
Once the doors were shut, Hope turned to Cammie.
She expected shock. Disgust. Irritation.
But Hope was, in fine Hope form, doling out the unexpected. Like always.
“Bless your heart, Cammie,” she said, a detached look of nonchalance on her face. “How weird is all of this, right?”
Well, yes.
“Weird and wonderful,” Cammie acknowledged.
“You were kissing my brother,” Hope clarified. “And you were really enjoying it. A lot. I mean, it looked like that. Am I right?”
Cammie simply nodded, her hand to her lips, her cheeks blushed.
“Well, then.” Hope nodded. “Weird.”
“Yes.”
“Very, very weird.” She looked back at Cammie again. “But he’s happy, huh?”
Cammie thought about David in Namibia, doing what he was called to do, where he was called to do it.
He was happy with who he was in Christ, even before her, even without her in the picture.
How much happier would he be now?
“Yes,” she said softly. “He’s happy.”
Hope nodded. “That’s got to be good for his work back in Namibia. Being happy like that. With you there, he probably has no reason to ever come back and let Dad talk him into anything.”
Paul Connor talking him into anything... this was news. Sure, there’d been the talk about how Paul didn’t want him on the mission field, as David had shared with the students, but what did Hope mean?
“Talk him into anything?” she asked. “What is he trying to talk him into?”
Hope shrugged. “New Life-Dallas. He offered David the student ministry position.”
Cammie very nearly gasped at the thought. It was likely the most high profile job in his field, the biggest calling in his area of ministry... and David hadn’t gone for it.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“I, for one, am glad that David turned him down,” Hope said. “I’d love it if he was back here, but something happens to him around Dad. He’s just not the man I know he is. It’s almost like he gets eclipsed by Paul Connor.” She took a breath. “Like we all do,” she muttered.
“Are you okay, Hope?” Camille asked, concern in her voice. Concern for David, concern for Hop
e, concern for them all.
“I will be,” Hope managed dismissively. Then, looking Cammie into the eyes very sincerely, “And you and David... well, I’m glad for it. Because he needs someone who believes in him. Someone who thinks he can do anything.” She stood silent for a long minute. “Do you think that about him?”
And Cammie thought of all that she’d seen Christ do through David, and she said, very simply, “I do.”
Hope smiled. “Well, then. Good for David. And good for you, Cammie.”