Just as he did, Chuck’s phone chirped in his pocket. While he read the text, Netflix finally responded, and she was able to breeze past the embarrassing parade of girlie shows. She exhaled. It was one thing for the guy to move her stack of classic DVDs, it was quite another for him to see her collection of weepy chick flicks that she obviously watched on repeat.
Chuck typed a response into his phone, a bemused expression on his face. “Sorry, I will mute this and put it away. But first, I have to tell you, that was my friend, Tom.”
He paused as if that should mean something to Lillian. She just stared.
“Tom, the officer that took your crash report today?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Crash?”
Chuck’s face clouded. “Lilly. You were in a crash today. A car crash? Don’t you remember?”
***
Chuck’s heart beat against his ribs. The doctor had said that if her headaches increased, or if she had trouble with her memory, they were to contact him immediately. Throughout dinner Chuck had watched her carefully, but in their easy banter since, he’d relaxed, assuming she felt better.
“What did you ask me?” Lillian rubbed her temples with her fingers, her forehead furrowed in confusion or pain or both.
Chuck sat up abruptly, digging through the stack of papers for the doctor’s phone number.
Lillian laughed—freezing his frantic movements. “Gotcha.” Her giggle echoed in the large room as she dug in her bowl for a handful of popcorn.
He stared at her, unsure whether he was irritated or infatuated.
He whistled low, “Mean, Lee. Mean.”
She sobered. “Lee?” If her scrunched up nose was any indication, the nickname was not one she was fond of.
“You don’t like Lee?”
“Do cats like to swim?”
He stared at her blankly.
She tried another tactic. “How about this, you can call me Lee, if I can call you Chuckie.”
He shuddered, “Okay, Lillian it is. Or is Lilly okay?”
“Lilly is fine.”
“Cool. Now if you’re nice, I’ll tell you about the very interesting text I just got.” He shook his phone back and forth in the air, tempting her.
“A text from Tom?”
“Yes, ma’am. It seems he was quite smitten with you today. Damsels in distress must appeal to him.”
Lillian twisted her mouth to the side and ducked her chin to glower at him through her lashes, unimpressed.
“He wants to know if he can have your number.” Chuck watched her face, intrigued to see how she would respond.
Lillian chuckled humorlessly. “Uh, that’s cute. Real funny.”
“No, seriously. Can he have your number?”
Her hazel eyes met his, sending veiled messages Chuck couldn’t translate. Finally, she sighed. “No, thank you. Would you please tell him I’m flattered but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not going to be ready for men for a very long time? As in, never.”
Lillian’s words were monotone, and he recalled that her ex-boyfriend had been unfaithful. Emotions played with his heart; relief that she didn’t want to give Tom her number, disappointment that she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with men.
The disappointed feeling made him stop in his tracks. What is going on with me? Sure, she’s fun, sweet, and attractive. But, honestly, do I want to date this woman that I barely know?
The swift answer beat against his ribs. Chuck held her gaze a moment before he sent Tom the answer. Volume turned off, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and pointed at the T.V.
“Let’s start a show. What was that one I saw up there under your favorites? I think it was called Chuck?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, amused by her red cheeks.
Chapter Fifteen
She and Chuck watched the first two episodes—much to Lillian’s embarrassment—of Chuck. As the credits rolled, they talked for a while about the premise of the show—government secrets accidentally downloaded into the brain of a nerdy computer tech in a dead-end job. They were both amused by the cheesy plot and wondered aloud what they would do if that ever happened to them, and they were forced to work with the CIA.
“There was definitely a time in my life that I wanted to do that kind of stuff,” Chuck admitted.
“Oh really?” Lillian teased, leaning back against the couch and facing him full on. “Do tell.”
Chuck stretched and crossed his legs at the ankles on her coffee table. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, elbows out. She tried not to stare at the way the movement made his biceps bulge. “Nothing to tell, really. I just dreamt of being a tough undercover cop or detective, or even a soldier. That’s how I know Tom, actually. He let me go on a few ride alongs when he was first hired.”
“So, what happened?”
He shrugged. “God changed my plans.”
Lillian was skeptical. “A maintenance man for an apartment building is a pretty far cry from a soldier or undercover detective. And you say that God changed your plans? That’s pretty bold.”
Chuck shrugged, and a distant grin stretched across his lips. “Well, usually when a life is turned upside down and flipped around in unexpected ways it’s evidence of God at work. At least, in my experience it has been.”
Lillian didn’t know what to say to that. She tucked the thought away for another day and asked Chuck more about his job. She was intrigued by his stories about the tenants—her tenants now. She still couldn’t believe how much her life had changed and in such a short amount of time.
Just after midnight, Lillian bid Chuck good-night with the promise to keep her phone close and to call—no matter what time it was—if she needed him. She gave a shy wave before locking her front door and shuffling into her new bedroom. She stared in awe at the new queen-sized bed. Viv had told her that the owners of the building had provided the bed when they’d first moved in, but they’d left it in plastic and never used it, already having a bed of their own.
Lillian found her pajamas in a suitcase and readied for bed in her ensuite bathroom. She then clicked off the light and ran her hand along the smooth, white headboard of the bed before she crawled on and sprawled out, relishing the firm mattress, soft sheets, and fluffy comforter. She’d spent too many nights on a lumpy pull out bed. The one Chuck had been kindly willing to sleep on that night, just to keep her safe. Images of her day floated past her closed lids like scenes from a movie. But before she could scold herself for allowing moments with Chuck to clench her heart the way they did, she fell into a deep, rhythmic sleep.
The next morning, she awoke early. It was still dark in the room, and things felt out of place. Instead of the subtle glow from the hall light under her front door, the room was cloaked in darkness. She turned over, her sore neck and shoulders reminding her of the day before—the crash, her sudden move, her time with Chuck.
She rolled onto her back and stretched, enjoying the feel of the solid mattress and crisp sheets. She lay still for a few minutes, barely able to take it all in. Finally, Lillian set her feet on the floor and slipped on her fuzzy socks to ward off the early morning chill before she shuffled into the kitchen.
From the moment she’d applied for the job, she’d dreamt of enjoying a cup of coffee at the island with her Bible open in front of her. Maybe it was silly, but she felt that reading her Bible would be the right start to her new life. She might not be ready for church on a regular basis, she might not be an acceptable candidate for any Christian man, but maybe, just maybe, she could find joy in the habit of Bible reading once again.
And maybe, just maybe, she could find her way back to the Savior she so desperately missed.
It was Sunday, and Lillian thought she was well enough to go to church. All week she’d gone back through the church’s website, listening to sermons uploaded from previous weeks. Pastor Ryan was an excellent teacher, and Lillian found she couldn’t get enough of his exposition of Romans. A strange stirring had begun in
her heart. Yeah, maybe she didn’t belong in church, but it was not like she planned to sign up for any committee. She just wanted to listen to the sermons and drink in more of the worship. There was something about sitting in that place that felt hauntingly—and wonderfully—familiar.
She boiled water on the stove and used her French press, thinking it would be a better introduction to the sacredness of her new space than the rumbling, sputtering coffee maker. She was right; the robust brew was just the right touch. Lillian placed her stool near the sink, using the sunshine from the window for light.
Chuck texted after her second cup.
Morning.
Good morning, Chuck :)
Hope you slept well.
Sure did. So well I forgot where I was when I woke up. Ha!
You did? Is that normal? I should check on you.
I’m rolling my eyes at you, Chuck. Haven’t you ever been disoriented in a new place?
Don’t get sassy with me, woman, you have a concussion.
Okay, Dad.
That’s it, I’m coming to check on you. You decent?
Before she could text an answer, she heard his soft knock on the door. Lillian dashed into her room and rummaged in her suitcase. She met him at the door, quickly buttoning the oversized flannel shirt she threw on to cover her disheveled pajamas.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” the low growl of his voice was disarming. So, too, his rumpled t-shirt and black basketball shorts—not to mention the tuft of hair sticking up on one side. The way he leaned against the door jam, arms crossed, eyes blinking sleepily.
Lillian smiled. “I feel great. Pretty sore, but my headache is much less intense.” She waved him into the kitchen and motioned to the French press. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Chuck scratched his chest through his t-shirt and yawned. “No, thank you. I just needed to see that you’re okay. I’m going to head home and shower for church. Do you feel up to going?”
She pulled her bottom lip with her teeth, contemplative. What was she so afraid of? If she snuck in the back like before and slipped out at the end, no one would be the wiser. Finally, she nodded. “Yup. I need to get out and stretch these legs.”
“If you’re sure, let me walk with you. I’ll pick you up in forty minutes, deal?”
Lillian glanced at the clock on the microwave. “But we don’t have to leave for another hour.”
Chuck flashed a wicked smile. “Yes, but if I’m back in forty, maybe you’ll invite me to breakfast.” He accentuated the wolfish grin with a ridiculously sexy wink.
Lillian laughed and waved him away. “Then you better get out of here so I have time to make something and shower.”
He saluted her and turned to walk to his door. Lillian tried not to stare at the muscular calves poking out beneath his shorts as he walked away. She’d always been a sucker for strong calves. Checking to be sure the door was locked, Lillian stood pensively in the living room, her mind cataloguing the ingredients left in her stockpile. She snapped her fingers. “Lemon muffins. They don’t use butter, and I have everything else I need for them,” she spoke to the empty apartment before whipping up her first meal in her new kitchen.
The fragrance of lemons and warm sugar permeated the apartment while she showered, then dried her hair; the perfect pairing for the first morning of her new life. Fresh, airy, bright.
She slipped a maxi dress over her head just as the timer went off. In the kitchen, Lillian pulled the muffins out of the oven and set them on the counter to cool. Back in her room, she shuffled through a suitcase, choosing a narrowly cut jean jacket to wear over the dress.
She turned this way and that in front of the bathroom mirror, wondering how her life had changed so completely in the span of just a few weeks. How long had it been since she’d eagerly dressed for church? Since a morning dawned so bright and full of hope?
Maybe what Chuck had said the night before was true; that only God could turn an upside-down life right-side up again. If only...
It certainly seemed that He had gone above and beyond to heal the loneliness she’d experienced when she’d moved out of Drew’s townhouse. The longer she’d been separate from Drew and her job, the more she found grace permeating her life. Nan and the bakery, Viv and Dave, her new job, and Chuck. A slow smile broke through as she styled her hair and applied her make-up with a light hand.
She was still smiling when Chuck came by to eat breakfast and escort her to church. He raved about her muffins, snatching two more for the walk. His praises warmed her, blossoming in her belly and blooming on her cheeks.
She glanced over at him on their brisk walk to the church. The weather had toned down since last Sunday, and there was a bite in the air. Chuck wore another gingham shirt, red and black this time, and had his hands tucked in the front pockets of crisp, clean jeans. Lillian swelled with appreciation for their new friendship. Though she found him strikingly handsome, somewhere between watching Chuck together and sharing lemon muffins and coffee that morning, she had relaxed. No, a relationship wasn’t something she could ever have with a man like Chuck—but his friendship was truly a gift.
He must have felt her gaze. He turned to her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”
“Nothing.” Just over here getting moony eyed over you and sappy that we’re friends. Nothing at all.
Chuck eyed her suspiciously before facing forward again. They walked in contented silence for another block before Chuck turned abruptly at a squat brown building two blocks before they reached the church.
“Chuck? What are you doing?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I’m leading worship for the youth group today. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight, so I’m bringing you with me,” he said, as if that explained everything. He pulled open a large metal door and held it for her.
“But, I was really looking forward to the sermon,” Lillian protested, not voicing that she’d planned to hide in the back and sneak out during the closing song. As soon as the words left her mouth, Lillian immediately wished she’d stayed silent. Honestly, Lillian, with all this man has done for you this weekend, you can’t just follow along?
She shook her head and placed a hand on his arm, “That didn’t come out right. I’ll be fine, Chuck. I’ll even wait for you after church, and we can walk home together.” Maybe they could share lunch. Then dinner. How much was too much, anyway? Because Lillian was sure that she could spend months with Chuck before she grew tired of him.
A tender look passed over Chuck’s eyes. His voice was low, understanding, “I’ve been looking forward to the sermon, too. I promise we’ll still get to hear it. But I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he repeated.
Laughter and loud calls from inside the building made Lillian’s stomach flutter. The big room was brightly lit, with teen-themed art and Bible verses swirled onto the walls. Lillian guessed that at some point there had been a party where the teens were allowed to decorate and paint the place themselves. The thirty or some odd number of teens were gathered into groups, some mixed, some just boys, others just girls. There was a foosball table in the corner, and worn brown and red plaid couches that lined the back wall. Chairs were arranged in rows on the other side of the room, all facing a makeshift stage.
Lillian recognized the group that had led worship from the Sunday before, now playing much more teen friendly music as everyone filtered in. A table in the back boasted an impressive spread of donuts, muffins, orange juice, and water. Most likely it had been arranged by loving moms. The atmosphere was so similar to her own brief, but wonderful, experience with youth group as a teen that her earlier fears slowly dissipated amid happy memories. She’d first understood Jesus’ sacrifice and love for her in a place like this. Chuck’s face melted into a smile. He leaned to speak loudly in her ear.
“Alright Miss Lilly, have a seat anywhere and I’ll be back in a bit.”
“That’s what you said last week,” she shouted back into his ear to be heard over the lou
d drums.
Chuck winced and shouted once again, “I know, I had to fix something. I promise this time, I’ll come rescue you.”
Just then, the song ended and Chuck’s last words echoed across the room. Dozens of eyes turned to look at them, obviously curious about the woman with Chuck. Lillian felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. All she needed was a little extra heat to shrivel up completely. Chuck was happy to oblige. He threw an arm around her shoulders and addressed the staring teens.
“Glad to have your attention, everyone! This is my friend—and new boss—Lilly. Lilly, this is the Grace Chapel Youth Group.”
“Hi, Lilly!” The boisterous shouts blasted forth, and Lillian laughed and waved back. Her “hello,” was much quieter. Chuck squeezed her shoulder before letting go.
“Now everyone make Lilly feel welcome,” he added with a shout before he rolled his wrist to check his watch. “Ok, let’s get started. Find a seat!”
A swarm of girls circled Lillian, chattering like a flock of birds high in a tree. Soon she had arms linked with hers on both sides and was led straight to a row in the middle. Cheeks burning with a mix of amusement and embarrassment, Lillian watched as Chuck hopped up on stage and hooked a guitar strap around his shoulders, a pick clenched between his teeth. He looked up, searching until he met her gaze. The Labrador smile was back and her stomach flopped.
And he plays guitar. Of course.
“So, are you Chuck’s girlfriend?” a petite blond to her left asked, her voice full of curiosity…and possibly a tinge of jealousy.
“Seriously, you guys are so cute!” A tall red-head next to the blond leaned forward excitedly.
Stunned, Lillian shook her head. “Uh, no. Just friends.”
“Girls! Please!” A sharp whisper startled Lillian, turning her attention to a woman Lillian guessed to be her age in the seat behind her. She had white blond hair swept into a high bun, pale skin…and electric blue eyes crackling in annoyance.
Even If Page 11