by Jenn Faulk
~Cammie~
Cammie had gotten away from Hope.
It had been tricky, but she’d done it.
She’d disappeared into her room, taking off that ridiculous dress in record time, slipping into a little black one in its place, zipping herself up, shaking her hair free, slipping on her heels, and hurrying back down the hall before Hope could even come knocking.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have a three hour long conversation with her old friend. It was that she was more interested in finding David before he went up to the pulpit. She made her way to green room, searching for her pass in her purse, grateful to find that the door was open anyway, with David in there by himself.
In there by himself and looking so broken.
Until he saw her.
“Well,” he said, his eyes widening. “I like that dress much better than the last one.”
“It wouldn’t take much,” she said, crossing the room towards him, even as he closed the distance between them.
“Oh, but I really, really like this dress,” he said, his hands on it as soon as she was within reach, his lips on hers.
Only a few hours into this, and it already felt so natural, like it had been life for them all along.
“Are you ready?” she asked, breaking away from him and smoothing down his tie.
“As ready as I’m going to be,” he said softly.
“I’m nervous for you,” she said. “All those people.”
“Tried to get them to have you up there as well,” he said. “Told them you have more experience than I do –”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. I know who I am.”
At this, he smiled. “Wow. What happened to the fiery edicts on gender inequality in the convention? This is the place to air your grievances, Cammie. Make strides for women in ministry everywhere.”
She grinned at him, thinking on how much things had changed. The importance of opinions on her accomplishments had fallen away in light of the work. The value of the perception of her gifting had diminished as she’d seen Christ work.
The need to be affirmed wasn’t there like it had been, working alongside someone who valued what she did and told her, again and again, that God was honored through her life.
It was the best accountability and encouragement she’d ever known.
“It’s all good, David,” she said. “I’m glad to follow you as you follow Christ.”
He let out a long breath. “Maybe you shouldn’t follow me,” he said.
What was this? More of the same, more of the insecurities? More Paul Connor?
“David,” she said softly.
“I mean it,” he said, running his hand across his face. “I feel like... David Connor, absolute joke.”
“You aren’t a joke,” she said.
“I’m here because of Dad,” he said. “Not because of anything I’ve done. Everything I do, everything that comes my way... all because of him.”
She knew this better than he thought she did.
“Hope told me he tried to get you to take a position at New Life-Dallas,” she said. “You turned it down.”
And she thought about what it must have been like for him, being offered everything and saying no. Because he knew who he was and what he was meant to do.
He’d done the right thing, even though it hadn’t been easy.
At this realization, there were tears in her eyes. “David, you turned it all down.”
“You think I made a mistake,” he said, sighing. “Logic screams that I did. Life would be a lot different for me now if I’d just taken it, like everyone in the world would have told me to.”
“That’s not it,” she said, wiping at her eyes.
“Then, what is it?” he said softly. “Why are you crying?”
“Because you gave it all up,” she said, thinking of all the men she’d known who had no real commitment to the mission field, who would have given up reaching the nations, who would hold back on God’s clear call to them for all the acclaim and praise in the world.
It would have been his. All of it. The power, the prestige, all of it.
David had given away the world’s best for God’s calling on his life.
“David, you did the right thing.”
“But what does it matter now?” he asked, shrugging. “I’m still just Dad’s pawn. Still just part of the bargaining chips at New Life-Dallas. That’s who I am.”
“No, you’re David Connor,” she said to him fiercely, wiping away the last of her tears. “And that’s enough. Enough for Christ. Enough for what’s ahead.” She took a breath. “Enough for me.”
And she bowed her head and prayed for him, asking God to make him believe.
He was due onstage any minute now.
Cammie was a nervous wreck, remembering his face as she’d kissed him goodbye one last time, murmuring prayers in her heart as she’d turned and had to leave him.
Phoebe looked to be nervous as well, farther down the row, sitting next to Paul, who was chatting up several convention leaders who’d come to talk to him.
And Cammie, the unofficial Connor, was sitting between the twins.
They were talking. Like always.
Charity leaned over to Cammie.
“Does David have a girlfriend out there? You know, in Africa?” she hissed.
Hope looked pointedly at her sister.
“Like you’re not wondering,” she said. “I swear, Cammie, I wonder if he’s even straight. Because there hasn’t been anyone here, and –”
“What do you think, Cammie?” Hope asked, switching her gaze to her friend. “Is David turned on by women? Or one woman in particular?”
“Um,” Cammie swallowed nervously. “Well, he–”
“Good night, Hope, don’t put it in those terms,” Charity interrupted, making a face at her sister and putting her hands on her pregnant bump protectively, as if to keep this conversation from reaching her baby’s ears.
“In what terms?” Hope asked, flipping through the program.
“Turned on,” Charity gagged. “This is David Paul we’re talking about!”
“You just asked if he was gay, so I figured we were free to say anything–”
“I would love him either way, of course,” Charity said, putting her hand on Cammie’s knee. “Honest. Gay, straight, still my brother. But I think he’s into girls, right? Hope, do you remember the way he looked at Cammie back when we were teenagers? And that time he got in trouble for spying on us when she was in our room changing clothes, and –”
“You two knew about that?!” Cammie sputtered. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Didn’t find out until later,” Hope murmured. “Didn’t want to gross you out when there wasn’t anything you could do about it anyway. And I mean, I thought, at least, that the very idea of David ever seeing you like that would have made you sick.” She narrowed her eyes at Cammie. “I mean, David, wanting you like that, touching you, kissing you –”
“My word, Hope, I think I’m gonna barf,” Charity interrupted. “And it’s not morning sickness. It’s the thought of Cammie and David together. Ugh.”
“Kinda makes you physically ill,” Hope murmured.
“Uh, yeah!” Charity exclaimed, snatching up Hope’s program and fanning herself with it. “But there’s a girl out there, Cammie.” She raised her eyebrows at this.
“Out where?” Cammie asked.
“In Africa,” Hope said dismissively, grabbing the program back from her sister. “I don’t think he’s into her, Charity.”
“Well, maybe Cammie has better intel than you!” Charity shot back. Then, with a smile at Cammie, “Her name is Kait. We know that much. She worked for the board. Talked David into going there three years ago. I mean, she called him ALL. THE. TIME. So, you know...”
“Know what?” Cammie asked.
“Maybe they’ve got a little somethin’ somethin’ going on? Missionary love and all, huh?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she said.
“Me neither,” Hope sighed, closing her program with some finality. “Because I think David, assuming he’s straight, would be into... oh, I don’t know, someone more familiar, more like home... someone like Cammie, maybe.”
Charity looked at their friend appraisingly. “Nah, that would just be too weird,” she concluded.
“Weird,” Hope agreed.
“Weird,” Cammie murmured, just as the door opened to the stage, and David walked in right behind the leaders of the convention.