Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  “Stop,” Lillian said, breathless. He glanced at her as he stepped on the clutch and shifted into neutral. Her eyes sparkled and her lips parted in surprise. “It’s perfect,” she whispered, more to herself he realized than to him. Lillian tugged on the door handle and hopped out. “I didn’t think it really existed,” she muttered as she shut the door behind her.

  Chuck cut the engine and followed.

  Lillian turned in a slow circle, bright eyes dancing in the early evening sun. Chuck followed her gaze, shifting his eyes from her to the barren field in confusion.

  “Have you been here before or something?” he finally asked.

  Lillian turned back in surprise, as if she’d forgotten he was with her. Her eyes dropped shyly, her lashes fanning across the tops of her cheeks. Then she looped an arm through his and turned back to stare at the land covered in weeds, a broken split rail fence crookedly lining the back of it.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Only in my dreams,” she said cryptically. He felt, more than heard, her pull in a deep, satisfied breath. “Okay,” Lillian straightened and pulled away. “We can go now. Thanks, Chuck.”

  His mouth hung open. He stared after her as she strolled back to the truck. “That’s it? ‘Thanks Chuck?’ That’s really all you’re going to say?”

  She winked at him and climbed into the cab, pulling the door shut and draping her arm over the open window. “Coming, Chuckie? I’m hungry for chips and salsa.”

  He gaped after her and glanced back at the field, thoroughly confused. Back in the cab, he started the engine and made a wide U-turn. The truck rumbled over the dirt road, quieting when the wheels hit pavement. They were only a few miles outside of Kuna, coming up on a series of stop signs. At each one, his eyes strayed to Lillian, mesmerized by the contented wonder she wore on her face.

  “Seriously?” Chuck asked, steering the truck through downtown Kuna.

  “What?” she rounded her eyes in innocence, unbuckling when he parked in front of the restaurant.

  “You’re not going to tell me what that was about?”

  She playfully patted his arm. “Nah, it’s more fun this way. Let’s go eat this amazing food.”

  ***

  They exited the truck and followed the sidewalk for a hundred paces or more until they came to a large window with a rooster painted on the side and Enrique’s posted above the door.

  “I’m confused. Didn’t you call it El Goopo or something before?”

  Chuck laughed and held the door open. “El Gallo Giro was the old name. They just changed it. Maybe they were tired of people butchering the name?” He teased.

  Lillian only slanted her eyes at him in response. Chuck lightly placed his palm against the small of her back, and Lillian preceded him inside. Her lips parted in surprise at the large crowd.

  “I had no idea this many people lived in Kuna,” she said, leaning back into Chuck so only he could hear her. “Are we interrupting a town meeting?”

  Chuck suppressed a laugh, his fingers still lightly touching her back as he led Lillian to the hostess stand. He gave his name to the pretty young woman in a white blouse and black skirt. She nodded and handed him a palm-sized black buzzer with red lights blinking around it. Turning back to Lillian he answered, “I told you it’s the best. We’re not the only ones willing to drive thirty minutes for their tacos.”

  They crammed themselves into a corner near the front door, watching the people around them in contented silence. A young family passed by, the father carrying a pig-tailed toddler, the mom following behind with a small baby in a carrier. A sad smile curled Lillian’s lips as she watched them.

  Before Chuck could ask her about the look, the pager began to buzz and shake.

  After they’d been seated and had ordered drinks, Lillian plucked a tortilla chip from the basket between them and dipped it in the salsa. Chuck, realizing she was going to keep her interest in that land to herself, ventured into territory that could prove to be dangerous. Especially in light of his growing attraction to his boss.

  “Lilly, can I ask you something?”

  “Oh, my goodness, this salsa is amazing. Would it be frowned upon if I just hang out with this the rest of the night?” Lillian ate another chip before she glanced up. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

  Chuck leaned forward. “This might not be my business, but you said something before about not wanting to date, or being married not being for you. Did you mean that?”

  The waiter returned with their drinks, and Lillian squeezed the lemon wedge into her iced tea, stirring it thoughtfully. She sucked on her straw out of the corner of her mouth for a moment, contemplative.

  “Because it sure seemed like you miss being in a relationship. So, which is it?” Chuck took a drink of his soda.

  Lillian took a deep breath and wiped salt from her hand. “Well, you know that I lived with Drew, right?”

  He nodded.

  “So, you understand that we, well, we didn’t sleep separately.” Pink crept into her cheeks and Chuck wished he could erase her embarrassment. He merely dipped his chin in acknowledgement of her statement.

  “Anyway. I don’t know if I ever told you that I became a Christian as a teenager.”

  “No.” He’d gathered over the last month that, although she had attended church every Sunday, she definitely didn’t feel comfortable there unless she was with the youth group.

  “My parents broke up—they were never married—when I was a baby, and my dad wasn’t a part of the picture. My mom worked hard to support us. She works at Harvey’s Harleys in Boise as their merchandise manager. I joke that I was raised by bikers and mechanics, but it’s mostly true. Harvey let Mom bring me to the shop when she came back after her maternity leave; they set up a playpen behind her desk. After I turned five, I went to school, then came to the shop in the afternoons, on holidays, and summer breaks…you get the idea.”

  Chuck knew of the motorcycle shop. It was the biggest one in their area. He tilted his head, trying to picture a younger Lillian running down the rows lined with shiny new motorcycles.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “as I grew older I was given a lot of freedom—I think my mom felt guilty for cooping me up at work all the time, or for the time she spent at work, leaving me at home as I got older, or both. Either way, we were always more friends than mother and daughter. She put me on birth control when I got my first boyfriend. I assumed that was what was expected of me and was intimate with my second boyfriend. He broke up with me after just a few months, and I was devastated. Depressed, actually. My mom took me to counseling, but it didn’t seem to help. I just dated more guys and did what I could to make them happy.”

  Now Chuck imagined a young and vulnerable Lillian and felt like punching something.

  “I had a friend at school who was a Christian, Emily. She moved away after college, and we lost touch. Anyway, in high school she was always inviting me to do things with her youth group, but I’d always have my mom make an excuse for me. But one time my mom, completely at a loss over my sulking, made me go. I did, and I really liked it. I went for the next month and was completely entranced by everything I learned there. At summer camp, it all became real to me in a personal way, and I asked Jesus to be my Savior.”

  Lillian leaned back as the waiter stepped up to collect their orders. On Chuck’s recommendation, she ordered the street tacos. She laughed when he ordered the burrito.

  “Working through the menu, Chuck?”

  “Yup,” he said. His mouth twitched in amusement, and then he pointed a finger at her. “I’m intrigued by your story, but you haven’t answered my question about planning not to marry. Did you vow to be a nun and then get distracted in college?”

  She chuckled. “Quite the opposite. I went to Bible College, all fired up to go into ministry, all the while thinking that was where I would meet a nice godly man and live happily ever after.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I met a nice guy
my junior year, and we dated a few times. But when it came down to telling him I was, uh, spoiled goods he told me he could never be serious about a woman that wasn’t a virgin. I was crushed. It was even worse the next day when he asked to take me out for coffee. I thought maybe he’d thought it through and changed his mind. Turned out that he just wanted to explain his side better. He said he was also worried about my family history. And how could he be with someone who didn’t come from a Christian family? He said that he had discussed it with his roommates and they agreed with him.”

  A muscle worked in Chuck’s jaw. His eyes hardened. “Lillian—”

  She didn’t pause for him. “I was so embarrassed and ashamed. Once school finished for the semester, I came home and never went back. My mom seemed happy; my choice to be a Christian had always bothered her. She encouraged me to date, but I just focused on finding a job. But that’s all I did—work. I didn’t surround myself with friends or hobbies. I didn’t finish school. I went out with the ladies from work a few times, but always as the driver. It felt more like herding cats at the end of the night than hanging out with friends. By the time I met Drew, I was incredibly lonely. I fell easily into intimacy with him and was incredibly ashamed. I understand now that, though I had accepted Jesus as my Savior, I hadn’t made Him my Lord.”

  She flashed an embarrassed smile, the sheen of tears in her eyes sparkled at Chuck in the low lighting of the restaurant. “After everything that’s happened this spring, I know now that God loves me; His pursuit of me in spite of myself is obvious. But still, I can’t believe that a godly man could overlook my past when I knew better. Maybe I should have been shown grace in college for mistakes I made before I was a believer. But what man could excuse my relationship with Drew when I obviously knew better? I’m learning that God’s grace is enough for me; I don’t need to marry. I can’t stand the thought of opening myself up to a relationship just to have him walk away when he knows the truth about me. Not again. And as a believer, I can’t date a man that doesn’t love the Lord. I don’t belong in either camp; I guess I’m destined to be single.”

  Chuck didn’t know what to say. He wanted to say, “You just told me and I don’t care.” But he hesitated. His mind flashed to how Lillian felt in his arms, and he warmed at the memory—the heat, he realized, wasn’t just physical. His knees tingled beneath the table, feelings for Lillian clouding his thoughts.

  While he’d thought of marrying before, the images in his imagination had always had very little to do with physical moments and mostly to do with perfunctory ones. Paying bills, raising kids, serving in church. The thoughts were black-and-white; stale.

  But images of a life with Lillian now exploded like fireworks in his mind and assaulted him with rapid fire sequence. Greeting her in the kitchen with a kiss to the back of her neck. Sharing one giant chair and one bowl of popcorn for a movie. Laughing over the antics of their children. Walking hand in hand to listen to Pastor Ryan on Sunday nights. Camping under the stars. Praying together. Linking hearts and souls in their marriage bed.

  Could he truly do all that with someone that had shared herself with someone else?

  His heart thundered in his ears with a resounding yes. If that person was Lillian, then a million times yes. Regardless, there was something else she’d mentioned, something that he felt the need to clear up.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chuck lowered his voice, “Lillian, you know that your family history has absolutely nothing to do with your standing before God, right?”

  She shrugged. “I know it doesn’t affect my relationship with the Lord, but it is one more thing that keeps me from being effective in the family of God. In church and ministry.”

  “That’s bull, Lillian.”

  She blinked at Chuck’s tone. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me; that’s absolute crap. The idea that you have to come from a Christian family or a ‘godly line’”—he pantomimed quotation marks in the air— “to be effective? That’s bull.”

  Lillian blushed and glanced away, unsure of how to respond. Maybe he didn’t understand. Her mother, while loving and successful, was a mess when it came to men. She’d had boyfriends in and out of their home through most of Lillian’s growing up years. Even now, the man she was married to had been a live-in boyfriend for a year before they’d married. When Lillian went to her mother’s for a family dinner, there was a lot of drinking, cursing, and off-color joking. She loved her family dearly, but would be mortified to have someone like Chuck hear how they spoke or what they believed.

  “Lillian, have you ever wondered why God didn’t just have the line of Christ come through Jacob’s son, Joseph?”

  She blinked at the sudden change in subject. “Huh? What on earth does that have to do with anything?”

  Chuck leaned forward. “Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers and taken to Egypt where the Lord used Him to save everyone in his family from a horrible famine. That story shows God’s provision to preserve the line of Christ. But a while ago I got to wondering, why didn’t God just save Joseph and let him be in the line of Christ?”

  “Huh. Good question.” Intrigued, Lillian folded her hands on the table and squinted her eyes at him.

  “While Joseph was in Egypt, his older brother Judah, the man that God did choose to be in the lineage of Christ, made quite a mess for himself. Judah had three sons. His oldest son was married to a woman name Tamar but died before she could bear children. Actually, the Bible says that God killed him because of his wickedness. So, according to their tradition and culture, his next brother was to take Tamar for a wife and bear children with her on his brother’s behalf. But he also did evil in God’s eyes and didn’t fulfill his duty, so to speak, so he died as well. According to custom, the next brother should have married her, but at this point Judah is thinking, ‘Maybe this woman is the cause of my sons’ deaths,’ so he told her to go on home to her father until his youngest son was old enough to marry her. Well, he just left her there and never fulfilled the promise.”

  Lillian pushed out her bottom lip. “That’s sad. I don’t totally understand what this has to do with Joseph or Jesus or even my family, though.”

  Chuck grinned. “I’m getting there, hang with me. So, Judah brings his flocks to town to shear them, and Tamar knows he has no plans to keep his promise to her. She dresses herself like a prostitute and goes down, hoping to entice Judah—or maybe even his grown son who is with him—without him knowing who she is. It works, but Judah has to send her payment later, so he leaves his signet ring, cords, and staff as promise for payment. Of course, when he sends his slave to go pay her, she is nowhere to be found. A report is made to him months later that his daughter-in-law is pregnant. Judah wants her burned for being a harlot, but she sends him the signet ring, cords, and staff as proof that he is the father of the child, and he realizes what he’s done. He said that she had more honor than him, because he didn’t keep his promise. Those two—that untrustworthy man with low morals, and the woman that pretended to be a harlot to get even with her father-in-law—are the ones that God chose to be in Jesus Christ’s lineage. Not golden boy Joseph. Not any of the other brothers. Judah.”

  Lillian squinted. “Huh. And your point is…?”

  “Lillian, can’t you see it? From the beginning, God plotted our redemption, and the plan always shone forth in grace. By grace we are saved, not by works. Joseph, by his actions, and in our limited understanding, deserved to be the great-great-however-many-greats-grandfather of Jesus. But by grace, God chose Judah. Jesus’ line is full of rough-edged misfits and sinners. In fact, that’s who He spent His time with while on earth—tax collectors and harlots. His own sinless nature and sacrifice saved them, and us. He doesn’t care about your family tree beyond wanting to save it. He cares about you and will use you, in spite of yourself, for His work and His glory. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

  Lillian, unsure, but budding with new hope, munched another chip thoughtfully. A
smile played at the corners of her lips. Lillian met his gaze and pointed her finger at him.

  “Alright, Chuck, enough about me. It’s your turn to tell me all about you and your love life. Or your hopes and dreams. Whichever you want to start with.”

  He paused with his soda in the air half-way to his mouth. “Huh?”

  Lillian arched a brow at him. Was it just the lighting, or was his face suddenly red? She finished chewing and swallowed, amused by his confusion. “Well, it’s only fair. I just told you all of my secrets.” She reached into the basket and selected another chip while batting her eyelashes. “Your turn, Chuckie.”

  He shuddered at the abhorrent nickname which made her laugh. “Honestly?” he asked.

  “Honestly.” She sipped her iced tea and tilted her head at him, all ears.

  He crossed his arms on the table and said, “I guess I don’t have huge dreams. I’m happy with my job. I love working with the youth group. I enjoy the simplicity of my life. I think I’m a lot like Chuck in that show. Completely okay with my normal, mundane life.”

  Ah, so we’re starting with dreams and not his love life. Drat. And, um yes—you definitely are a lot like Chuck. Charming, funny, good-looking... Lillian’s logical side reprimanded the thought, while the rest of her stood up to it—I might not be able to marry him, but I can still drool over how good-looking my friend is, can’t I?

  Logic rolled its eyes.

  Yeah, okay.

  Aloud she asked, “No aspirations to be a youth pastor? After all, Chuck on the show isn’t entirely happy with his normal life. He has dreams for something bigger.”

  He crinkled his chin thoughtfully, eyes toward the ceiling. “Maybe once a long time ago, but…” Chuck let his sentence fall off, lost in thought.

  “Or did that go out the window with your dreams of being a, what was it? An undercover cop? What changed that?” Lillian ate another chip, her eyes never leaving his, though he looked beyond her to the window.