Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  “The building owners let us remodel the kitchen as long as we kept it classic and upscale. We were completely okay with that. This is the show apartment, the one that tenants see first. It has to impress. Too bad I can’t cook or bake worth a darn. Those are slice and bake cookies in the oven, and yes, you’re welcome to them. I was supposed to have an interview with an applicant today, but he just called to cancel.”

  Viv turned and waved for them to follow her into the kitchen. Lillian eagerly obliged, taking in the crown molding, the elegant rugs, and paintings. There was a bright, homey feel to the manager’s quarters. In true artistic form, the ambience captured the era that the building was born into. Lillian could almost imagine that she was a young typist in the early 1900s, working in one of the many offices once housed here. It made her love the building that much more. Her heart sunk. And here I am to terminate my lease.

  “Isn’t that the fourth applicant that’s been a bust?” Chuck asked as they sat on stools around the island. Viv stretched to balance precariously on her tiptoes to reach into a cabinet for coffee cups, her belly greatly interfering with what should have been an easy task.

  Chuck hopped off the stool and waved Viv away. He reached easily into the cupboard for the mugs. Viv smiled gratefully and eased her frame onto a stool near Lillian.

  She was slightly winded when she answered. “Yes. It’s so strange. The owners said they have never had such trouble finding an employee before.” She thanked Chuck as he poured coffee for the three of them and sat back down.

  Lillian noticed his eyes boring into hers over his mug, trying to communicate some silent message. She eyed him back. What? She’d been so busy drooling over the gas range opposite them that she hadn’t been listening. Viv was still talking, and it took all of Lillian’s willpower to turn away from the stunning kitchen and focus in on the conversation.

  “We have to find someone by next week. I only have so much time to train the new manager before we move.”

  Move? It was then that she noticed a pillar of boxes stacked in one corner of the kitchen, packing tape and sharpie pens placed on top.

  The words slowly registered, and Lillian rounded her eyes at Chuck. He brought his coffee cup to his lips and crinkled those blue eyes at her over the rim, his thick brows quirked up and back down in one quick motion.

  He brought me here for this.

  Lillian warily cleared her throat, afraid to hope. “What exactly are the qualifications for the manager? Do they have to be married?” She shakily lifted the coffee to her lips, hoping to hide her eagerness. Chuck winked at her, and she almost dropped the porcelain mug.

  “No, not at all. I mean the qualifications are basic. Good job history is important, and we would like the manager to sign a one-year contract at least. A high school diploma is a must, a college degree is always nice, but not completely necessary. At this point I don’t even care if the applicant has never worked a day in their life. I’m getting desperate. Why, did you have someone in mind, Lillian?”

  Lillian glanced at Chuck. She took a deep breath and told Viv about her own fruitless search for a job. “I have applied everywhere and haven’t had any luck. I was coming here to talk to you about terminating my lease, or to ask what the procedure is if I can’t pay rent.”

  Viv laughed, long and loud, and slapped the table. “I can’t believe this!” She turned her dancing eyes to Chuck. “What a God thing, huh?”

  Viv hopped up—as much as a woman in her condition could—and waddled into the office near the front. She returned with an application and handed it to Lillian. “Let’s see if we can help each other out, shall we?”

  Lillian’s heart fluttered with promise. Was this really happening? Not only could she possibly have a good job, but her home would be this stunning apartment? Eventually she could buy a real bed and have a nice place to rest instead of the pull-out couch. She was overwhelmed.

  Chuck walked with Lillian to Viv’s front door and told her that the part for her refrigerator would be in on Monday—just two days away. He offered to let her keep her food in his apartment until then.

  “Thank you, Chuck. For everything. I might have to drop in tonight to get something from the freezer for dinner, though, if you don’t mind.”

  Viv invited Lillian back for dinner before Chuck could respond. “That way you can bring your application back to me, and we’ll conduct an interview. How does that sound?”

  Lillian agreed and was soon back in her studio wearing a circle into the floor. She found one last resume in her laptop case and smoothed the paper on her kitchen counter. An overwhelming desire to pray about the job overcame her, and she almost sunk to her knees right there on the linoleum.

  How long had it been since she’d thought of God and His will above her own? Humility and shame flooded through her, subduing her previous elation.

  Far too long to expect Him to bend low to her now. She had known better when she moved in with Drew, having a long history of doing what she wanted above what was right. For a while she had done the church thing, even the Christian college thing.

  Lillian thought back to when Viv called this situation a God thing. She highly doubted it on her end, but maybe God was doing something for Viv and her husband. Lillian was more than happy to oblige, especially if she got a job out of it.

  She shook off her reverie and the guilt that came from her memories, and tried to focus on something neutral. She perused her closet, wondering what she should wear to the interview. Viv had assured Lillian that the interview would be informal, and that she could dress comfortably for dinner afterwards. She chose what she hoped was an outfit that portrayed the casual feel Viv had recommended, but still showed that she could pull herself together as a manager. She styled her hair, pleased with how the short locks fell in waves to frame her face. After a touch more mascara and sheer lip gloss, Lillian felt as ready as she could be.

  When Lillian knocked on the Murpheys’ door that evening, she ran her fingers over a delicate sheer lace pattern stitched across a form fitting cream cotton top. Smoothing out her knee length lavender skirt, she hoped Viv had meant for her to be this causal.

  Viv opened the door, eyes lighting appreciatively on Lillian’s outfit. She turned and ushered her straight into the office. They took seats on the same side of the desk in the high-backed chairs. Lillian kept her frame iron-rod straight and worked to not bounce her leg while Viv scanned her resume.

  “Wow. You worked at this motorcycle shop for a long time.”

  Lillian laughed nervously. “Yeah, my mom is the merchandise manager there and has been since I was a baby. I basically grew up in the shop, indirectly raised by bikers and mechanics. Every summer and winter break I had to help out while my mom was at work. When I was fifteen, Mike started paying me for it.” Lillian took a deep breath. Why do I always babble when I’m nervous?

  Viv smiled at her, holding eye contact for an awkward moment before turning back to the resume. She pointed at the last job listed. “And you worked here—at Treasure Valley Insurance—for almost two years?”

  “Yes,” heat crawled up her neck. “Are you going to call them?”

  Viv glanced up. “Is that a problem?”

  Lillian let out a nervous breath. “No, I just—” She clasped moist hands together in her lap. “Well, you ought to know that I walked out of that job—without giving notice.”

  She offered a simple version of why she’d quit, with just enough details to make it an understandable choice. She hoped.

  Viv put the application down and leaned toward Lillian, sympathy painting her eyes. “I’m so sorry. That must have been very painful for you. Are you okay?”

  Lillian hadn’t cried about Drew in weeks—was unsure if it was his betrayal or the wary job search that stung behind her eyes now—but Viv’s obvious care touched her deeply.

  Lillian swiped at her eyes, embarrassed by the fresh tears. “I truly am. I just wish I had a job to keep me busy while I figure the rest of my
life out, you know?” She spoke honestly, forgetting for the moment that she was in an interview.

  Viv nodded. “I really do,” she whispered, and Lillian had the inclination that Viv had a history of her own. A shared moment of companionship passed between them.

  “Well,” Viv leaned back in her chair, a smile on her face, as she held up Lillian’s resume. “I see nothing here but a solid work history with vast customer service experience. The final decision is up to the owners of the building, but I’m going to recommend you for the job.”

  “Really?” Lillian closed her eyes in relief. “Oh thank you, you have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that.”

  Viv was more subdued. “I know you’ve been out of work for a while. We hope to train and set up the new manager next week, but it could take up to two weeks after that to get you moved in and get pay going—do you think you can hold out that long?”

  Lillian dipped her chin, thinking. “I have enough in savings to hold me over for a while longer.”

  The women talked for another hour, the conversation traveling the course of their college years and their upbringings. Viv shared how she and Dave married and almost immediately took the management position.

  “Dave has his own web design business, and we jumped at the opportunity for him to grow that company while we kept living costs low with this job.” She looked lovingly around the apartment, her arm draped comfortably across her stomach. “We lived so many good moments right here. Some bad ones too,” she chuckled. “We never expected to be here this long. It was a good way to pay off student loans and enjoy our time as a young married couple. ‘We’ll move as soon as we expand the family,’ we said.” She tipped her mouth sardonically. “That took longer than expected, that’s for sure.”

  By the time Dave came home, Lillian felt like she already knew him. Viv’s eyes lit up when Dave walked over to kiss her hello. She turned her face up, accepting his kiss. “I think we may have finally found a replacement. Let’s just hope the owners move quickly on this one.”

  Lillian nodded shyly, hoping her admiration for the love shared between the two didn’t paint her face too many shades of pink.

  Dave flashed a broad grin toward Lillian. “That’s great. Now,” he clapped his hands together, “are you two ready for me to order dinner?”

  Lillian protested, “Oh, no, you don’t really need to feed me—”

  Viv cut her off, “Nonsense, Lillian. We have dinner with the staff every Friday night. Maybe it’s something you could continue if you take the position.” She winked conspiratorially at Dave. He grinned back.

  Lillian missed the exchange and—still in interview mode—nodded along eagerly, “I could do that, sure.”

  Viv pulled out a stack of take-out menus. “Are we in the mood for Italian, Mexican, Chinese, or Pizza?”

  “Definitely Chinese,” a voice boomed behind Lillian and the pink that had bloomed on her face earlier returned, only this time her cheeks burned scarlet.

  She spun to face Chuck in the doorway behind her, stepping out of his boots. Dinner with the staff…how did I overlook that Chuck is the staff?

  They ordered and kept the conversation light while they waited. Once the food arrived, they arranged it family-style around the kitchen island. Lillian learned that Chuck and the Murpheys had been friends for years and went to the same church nearby. When the old maintenance man, Larry, had retired, Dave convinced Chuck to leave his construction job and work for them.

  “An onsite maintenance man is such a luxury,” Dave explained. “It’s essential to have someone you trust, and who truly is a jack-of-all-trades. I’ve watched Chuck fix things on the fly around church for years. Somehow, Viv convinced him that fixing heaters and fighting off little old ladies is his lot in life.” Dave and Viv laughed as Chuck buried his face in his hands.

  “Ohhhh,” he groaned behind his fingers before running them down his face and chin. “Ms. Goodwin,” Chuck looked at Lillian and shook his head. “She’s a sweet lady. But she pinches.”

  Lillian laughed with them, enjoying the comfortable camaraderie between the friends. For most of the evening she listened eagerly as they discussed the newly renovated home that the Murpheys were prepping to move into, the teens in the youth group, and the eccentric tenants in the building.

  “There’s just something special about everyone on the third floor,” they told her.

  When the evening ended, all too soon for Lillian’s taste, Viv walked her to the door and pulled her into a warm hug. Lillian was amused at how far she had to stick out her bottom to accommodate Viv’s protruding stomach.

  “We’re really glad you stayed for dinner, Lillian. I’ll be praying about this job and God’s will for you in general.”

  She invited Lillian, who promised to think about it, to join them at church the next morning. Before she left, Lillian gave Chuck and Dave, engrossed in their own discussion, a small wave and closed the door behind her.

  In her studio, she readied for bed—her mind and heart full. Once she was in pajamas, she turned out the lights and perched on the window sill, gazing out on the dusky evening, contemplative.

  Chuck’s face filled her mind. Certainly, that man became more attractive every time she saw him, but it was his words and character that stirred her heart. And broke it as well. Although a relationship with Chuck was not something she would have ever honestly considered, realizing that his type was what she wanted someday—and was exactly what she could never have—tore through her. A heaviness clouded over the otherwise wonderful day.

  She gazed out the window, watching as the sun receded and an inky blanket was pulled over the earth. Pinpricks of light poked through the black, and she remembered there was a verse somewhere in the Bible about God calling the stars out by name. Lillian forgot about Chuck and the job, engrossed by the entrance of night.

  Until suddenly, just as the time weeks before, a car with its lights off slowly crept up the ramp to the roof of the parking garage across the way. She sat up, watching, as an older man got out of the car, looked around cautiously, and located the box in the wall.

  Lillian fled into the kitchen and frantically dug in her junk drawer for a paper and pen. Back at the window, she scribbled down the model of the car, but was unable to make out the license plate. She observed the guarded way the man stole from his car and snuck something out of, and then something back into, the small box. The man got back in his car and drove down the same way he’d come.

  Lillian glanced at the notes, knowing she still didn’t have anything substantial to report. But maybe she could just keep watch and take notes. Eventually she’d have enough to turn over to the police.

  Unless, she was able to move down the hall. The Murpheys’ apartment was on the corner of the building, adjacent to hers. Maybe she could see something from that kitchen window…but she doubted it.

  Tired and emotionally spent, Lillian pulled the bed out of her couch and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Chuck watched Lillian as she hugged Viv good-bye, amused by the way she held herself back to avoid crushing Viv’s belly. He didn’t make it a habit to hug married women, himself, but if the situation required it, he just slung an arm around Viv’s shoulders and gave a squeeze.

  Lillian pulled away and offered himself and Dave a small wave before making her exit. Chuck watched the closed door long after she’d pulled it shut, disappointed to see her go. He’d enjoyed spending time with her.

  When the maintenance call had come for apartment 608, he’d been, well, eager to get there, to say the least. And then Lillian had opened her apartment door, bent in a graceful bow, surprising him. When she realized he wasn’t Larry and that cute blush crept up her neck, Chuck had resisted the urge to grin like an idiot.

  The Lillian he’d been introduced to in Nan’s bakery and the one that had greeted him with a curtsey were very different from the distracted, weepy one from weeks—and even months—ago.


  He’d known he was in trouble when he’d caught Lillian talking to herself in his kitchen, and when he teased her, she gave back as good as she got. Her easy laugh and the comfortable camaraderie between them awakened something he’d put to sleep a long time ago.

  Hope.

  It was...surprising. He barely knew the woman, didn’t know if she loved the Lord. He did know from that morning in Nan’s bakery that she was suffering a broken heart. Although he’d originally brushed off Nan’s desire to make Lillian know she was special, Chuck now found himself thinking the same thing. He’d insisted to Felix that he wasn’t interested in dating, and yet, he found himself thinking of Lillian’s eyes over the following weeks.

  He’d resisted the urge all through dinner to watch her, and felt that he’d hidden his interest well—until he looked up to find Viv and Dave standing in front of him, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, shaking their heads.

  “What?” he asked.

  Dave reached out to clap a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, man.”

  Chuck shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He glanced toward the door again, rubbing a hand on his chest.

  Viv burst out laughing. “Hey, you won’t hear us complaining, Chuckie. She’s a doll. And who knows,” Viv wiggled her eyebrows at Chuck as she turned to clean up the mess in the kitchen, “she might be your boss next week.”