Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  “Felix, let me ask you a random question. Would you marry a woman that wasn’t a virgin?”

  Felix lifted the baseball cap off his head, his tightly curled black hair glistening with sweat, and set it back again. He lined up a ball and whacked it high into the air. The men watched until it dropped to the ground and bounced a few more yards.

  “I guess it would depend.”

  “On what?” Chuck lined up a ball as well.

  “On if she regretted it or was proud of it.”

  “Oh, she regrets it,” Chuck mumbled, reaching into the bucket for another ball. So much so that she had basically sentenced herself to a lifetime of celibacy as punishment. But Felix didn’t need to know that.

  Felix nodded and dropped the club to his side, walking over to Chuck. “The way I see it is this. If you care about a woman, and she loves the Lord, her past shouldn’t matter to you any more than it does to Him,” he said.

  Chucked worked a muscle in his jaw, looking out over the field of golf balls. “I agree. Some jerk at this girl’s old college told her that no Christian man would want her. That she would ruin a godly man’s chance at ministry, or something to that effect.”

  “Well that’s stupid,” Felix commented dryly.

  Chuck snorted, “I agree.” He looked at the ball in his hand. “Especially when I’m having such a hard time not thinking of her that way, you know?”

  Felix, ready to swing, dropped the club again, his face hard. He jabbed his pointer finger in Chuck’s direction, “In what way? Because if you even think about messing around where you shouldn’t, we’re going to have a problem, dude.”

  Chuck held up his hands, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I meant that I want a relationship with her. Possibly the ‘til-death-do-us-part kind,” not the ‘Hey baby, let’s get a room,’ kind.”

  Felix crossed his arms, the golf club hanging from his fingers. “And that’s it?” his tone was dry, unbelieving.

  Chuck palmed the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m not dead. I’m a red-blooded man. That kind of relationship would someday include marital intimacy, and I definitely don’t find Lillian repulsive. Quite the opposite.”

  “Ah. I thought we might be talking about Lillian.”

  “Of course, we’re talking about Lillian. Who else would we be talking about?”

  Felix ignored him. “You know, she’s the first woman you’ve really paid attention to since…well, since your Dad died. I was starting to think you were too afraid to get close to anyone new. But with Lillian—” he shrugged, “I don’t know, man. The few times I’ve seen you together, she just seems to put you at ease. Does it bother you that she’s not a virgin?”

  Chuck thought for a moment. “Not really, no. I mean, I don’t love that. I hate thinking of another man being with her. But, no. It doesn’t change how I feel about her.”

  “Then maybe you should tell her, man.”

  Chuck let out a puff of air and slugged Felix in the arm. “When did you become Mr. Psychologist?”

  Felix slugged him back. “When you became Mr. Emotional. Now are you ready to get back to golf, or do I need to find you some tissues?”

  ***

  Back at the building, Chuck rode the elevator to the sixth floor wishing, as he often did after a long day, that the building had a pool or hot tub or something for his sore muscles. Maybe he could talk Lillian into putting a hot tub on the roof. For “community-building.”

  The talk with Felix had been good for him; it felt great to finally verbalize how he felt. But he still didn’t know what to do about it. Lillian was vulnerable, still healing. And he had his own unfinished business—forgiveness he needed to extend. Until he could, did he have any business being in a committed relationship?

  Lord, I care about her. Only you know how much. I can’t let my attraction to her get in the way of just being her friend for now. Would you set a guard over my heart, Lord? Would you keep me from acting on the affection I feel for her in any way that would be dishonoring to You or damaging to her?

  He passed Lillian’s apartment on the way to his, still praying, when a loud cackle of laugher made him jump back.

  “What in the world?”

  In the time that Lillian had lived next door, he’d never known her to have friends over. In fact, he’d never heard her mention any friends, other than the one in high school that took her to youth group. He walked slowly by Lillian’s apartment, the corners of his mouth tugging as the laughter rang out again. He’d never heard Lillian laugh like that, deep and throaty. It was...sexy. Her door suddenly swung open, and two females spilled into the hall.

  “Tiffany?”

  Tiffany stopped mid-sentence and turned to face him, “Chuck! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

  He stepped forward for a quick hug and pulled back. “I know. It seems every time you’re in town you’re too busy for the old group.”

  Tiffany snorted. “What old group? You and Felix?”

  “Well, yeah,” he smiled and wiggled his brows at her, knowing full well what he was doing.

  “Wait, what am I missing here?” Lillian looked between Chuck and Tiffany, cheeks flushed with joy.

  And Chuck thought her laugh had been attractive... He draped an arm around Tiffany’s shoulders and faced Lillian, “Tiff here used to be Felix’s old flame.”

  Lillian rounded her eyes in interest. “Oh, reeaally?”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Flame,” she snorted again. “Right. If you call one high school dance and two awkward kisses at camp, followed by half a dozen “define the relationship” talks—which, by the by, never defined anything, let alone our relationship—then, sure, we were each other’s flames. The very definition of hot and heavy.”

  Chuck grinned, delighted at the flush that crept into Tiffany’s ears. Having mercy on her embarrassment, he turned to Lillian. “So, did Nan introduce you two?” he asked.

  Lillian smiled, bright and electric. “Actually, this is the recipient of the baked ziti this evening.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes back and groaned, rubbing her belly. “Oh, that ziti. I’m going to dream about it. So good for my belly,” she growled. “And that garlic bread, mmmhmmm.” she licked her lips.

  “Wait,” Chuck hung his hands on his waist, incredulous. “There was bread?”

  The women took great delight in his offense. Tiffany smacked the back of her hand playfully against his stomach. “There sure was, Chuckie Boy. And, my-oh-my, was it good! Don’t tell Aunt Nan, but I think it’s as good as hers.”

  Lillian rolled her eyes, “Well, it should be, it’s her recipe.”

  Chuck shook his head. He pointed toward Lillian’s apartment, his tone indignant. “You stood there in your kitchen, and you handed me ziti, leading me to believe you cared about my health and well-being, and all the while, there was fresh, good-as-Nan’s bread in that kitchen?”

  Lillian spread her hands and lifted one shoulder, her face scrunching adorably. “Sorry?”

  Tiffany held out her hands. “The point is, Chuckie, that you got ziti. Free dinner. That’s the important thing.” she looked between Chuck and Lillian. “And also, I got bread, and you didn’t. Goodnight! See you in the morning, Lilly.”

  Tiffany walked backwards down the hall, waving. In a loud whisper she called, “And thanks for the amazing dinner—and bread!” She winked at Chuck and ducked around the corner to the stairwell.

  Lillian, laughing at her new friend’s exit, took a step back toward her door. “Does she always leave that abruptly?”

  Chuck rolled his lips inward, nodding. “Yup. That’s Tiffany. Fast-talking, funny, unpredictable.”

  “Well, I am going to copy her and make a quick escape before I get in more trouble. Night, Chuck.”

  “Lillian,” Chuck stopped her.

  “Yes?”

  He faltered, unsure of what he was going to say. Finally, he cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s good to hear you laugh.” Before he could think better of it, he pulled her int
o a bear hug. She hesitated for a heartbeat before returning the embrace. Chuck’s limbs tingled at the feel of her in his arms again, but he made himself release her.

  She leaned back and crinkled her eyes at him, “Thank you. It’s good to laugh.” She slowly pulled her hands from his waist, but stayed close. The look in her eyes brought his heart to a stuttering stop.

  Long before he could do anything about it, she dropped her eyes and turned to open her door.

  “Goodnight,” she whispered on a smile as she shut the door quietly.

  He slid the key into his own door, thinking as he did that he would do just about anything to hear that deep, throaty chuckle again. Inside his apartment, Chuck readied for bed, pensive. Only when he dropped onto the mattress did he realize what it meant for Tiffany to be back for good.

  “Oh, Felix. You think I’m Mr. Emotional? I can’t wait to see you freak out when you realize your long-lost love is back in town,” he mocked into the darkness before falling into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Surprising Nan by walking into the bakery arm in arm was just as fun as Tiffany promised it would be. Nan dropped the dough she’d been kneading onto the floor and rushed toward them.

  “My favorite girls found each other!” she whooped, wrapping floured arms around Tiffany and Lillian, squeezing them tight. She pulled back, her face flushed with excitement.

  “Auntie, you dropped your dough over there,” Tiffany teased.

  “She does that a lot,” Lillian observed.

  “Oh, I don’t care. We can make more.” Nan’s grin stretched wider. “Now tell me how you met.”

  She and Tiffany told her about the dinner delivery and their evening unpacking boxes and bonding over dessert.

  “Good thing we didn’t mention those peppermint brownies to Chuck,” Tiffany teased. “Can you imagine?”

  Lillian rolled her eyes heavenward, “Oh my goodness. He would have a fit.” She took note of the mischievous gleam in her new friend’s eyes, “Tiffany, don’t you dare!”

  Over coffee and day-old pastries the women laughed and prepared for the day. Now that Tiffany had arrived, Lillian would spend much less time in the bakery. While she loved the moments she shared with Nan, she was thankful to slow down a bit. She baked with them for the next few hours and then left with a dozen croissants and a heart full of joy.

  Thank you, Lord, she whispered in her heart as she ascended the stairs to her apartment. Thank You for knowing before I even asked that just the right friend was moving into the building as I prayed.

  The croissants were to be a surprise for Chuck when he arrived for their morning meeting. There was now a charge between them that hadn’t been there before. Lillian couldn’t tell if it was the way they’d shared their hearts at dinner over the weekend, the hug Chuck had given her the night before, or just her own happy spirit. Regardless, she relished the ease they shared as they went about their day.

  The rest of the week flowed smoothly, even the unexpected Bunco night. Tiffany had delighted in that story and the way Lillian good-naturedly mimicked Ms. Goodwin. Together they researched Bunco online and readied the roof. Nan let them borrow two card tables and eight chairs to make up the three areas needed for each level of the game.

  Before long, an eclectic assortment of females from the six floors of the apartment building gathered to play. The weather cooperated, and they all enjoyed the patio lights Tiffany had helped her find and string along the half walls. They even set out cheesy Hawaiian-themed decorations they found at the Dollar Store. “It’s too early to decorate for the Fourth of July,” Tiffany had reasoned when Lillian told her Rhetta had suggested a red, white, and blue theme.

  Ms. Goodwin nodded appreciatively when she saw the decorations, the long farm table, and two card tables. “Very good, girls.”

  The game night was more fun than Lillian had expected it to be. She’d never been interested in a girls’ night before, thinking it would have the propensity to become a gaggle of women talking over one another. Which it absolutely was. And it was glorious.

  The game was easy to pick up, the conversation light. Each time a woman wildly hollered “Bunco!” the roof hummed with their laughter and good-natured teasing. Lillian couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to play in her apartment with Chuck sitting next door, staring at their shared wall in horror, thinking they were all crazy. She smiled at the image.

  The evening was a rousing success for Lillian when she discovered that all of the women were looking forward to the summer weekly dinners. A few told her about the starters they’d been growing on their window sills, ready to plant in the garden boxes when it was time. She couldn’t wait to tell Chuck.

  The following night, Lillian made a bowl of brown butter parmesan popcorn and settled in to watch T.V. for the evening. It had been a while since she just vegged out on the couch. Netflix pinged on, and she scrolled past Chuck, browsing the documentaries section instead. After ten minutes of searching, she sighed out loud and tapped her fingers on the couch cushion. Before she could change her mind, she texted Chuck.

  I made popcorn and am going to watch Chuck. You want to come over?

  Her phone beeped his response one minute later. You had me at popcorn. Be right over.

  She unlocked the door and retrieved a bottle of water and a second bowl for Chuck. He stepped in just as she sat back on the couch, his smile swirling her insides in a dangerous tornado of attraction.

  They watched two episodes, laughing at the main character’s nerdy friend, rolling their eyes at the cheesy way the show highlighted the female CIA agent’s womanly curves. Lillian noticed that whenever the images onscreen became too sexualized, Chuck averted his eyes.

  “Why do you do that?” Lillian finally asked, wishing once the words had left her mouth, that she could cancel the whole evening. Way to let him know that you’re watching him, Lillian.

  “Do what?” Chuck asked, confused.

  No taking it back now. She shrugged. “You look away every time they do that cheesy, provocative stuff with Sarah and the other female characters.”

  Chuck’s eyes darted away. “Uh, I didn’t mean to be so obvious.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. I’m just curious. Guys don’t often look away when a beautiful woman is on T.V.”

  “‘I have made a covenant with my eyes,’” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting derisively.

  She stared at him, not comprehending. “What?”

  “It’s a verse from Job. In high school, we had a couple who led our youth group with blatant honesty. They were very, very open about the problems kids—and even adults—face as far as purity goes. I don’t know much about what the girls discussed, but the man, Zack, would take us guys camping with a bunch of the dads, mine included. They shared how destructive pornography is, not just to a married couple, but to anyone that gets wrapped up in it. They encouraged us to steer clear of that stuff. To ‘make a covenant’ with our eyes. It just kind of stuck with me.”

  The silence stretched between them. Lillian hugged a couch pillow to herself. He watched her shrink in on herself, and his eyes clouded over, cloaked in pain. “Talk to me, Lilly,” he whispered.

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “How can you be friends with me, Chuck? You must think I’m awful.”

  He shifted toward her, one knee grazing hers. “No. I don’t think you’re awful. Not one bit. I’m friends with you because you’re a tender-hearted woman that instantly makes people feel better when they’re around you. I know that you love the Lord with all your heart, and I enjoy hearing your insights on God’s Word. You’re funny, you’re a great manager, a hard worker, and an incredibly beautiful woman—not only on the outside, but in your heart. I see a pure, godly woman before me.” He reached his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers lightly brushed the ends of her hair.

  Fire swept through her at his touch, nearly canceling out all of his kind words.

  “
And most importantly, Lillian, you are a killer cook.” The corners of his mouth twitched. He gave a gentle tug on a lock of her hair and let go. Her scalp tingled.

  Lillian chuckled, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “Yes, that is most important.” She sniffed and pulled in a deep breath. “Thanks, Chuck. I know God can restore and change people, I just—I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been overcome with shame and regret.” She set her chin on top of the pillow.

  “Maybe shame is good for a season, but seasons change,” he said haltingly, as if afraid he would scare her off.

  She straightened. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re restored and redeemed before the Lord. You repented, you changed. Because of that I believe you’re more aware of the damage your sin did. I think it’s good to recognize the sin and the shame, because sin against God should be something we are ashamed of.”

  Lillian looked away and Chuck reached out to turn her chin back again. “Uh-uh. Stick with me. You’ve experienced shame. But, now is the time to move on. To accept God’s forgiveness and ‘Go and sin no more.’ Does that make sense?”

  Lillian closed her eyes, unable to meet Chuck’s gaze. “Yes, it does.”

  Chuck slid his hand from her chin to her shoulder, making her knees shake inside. She finally risked a glance. The tender light in Chuck’s eyes pulled at her belly. She inhaled slowly, afraid to move and have him release his hold on her.

  “So maybe I should work on accepting that forgiveness and use my shame for good—like being open with the youth girls if their parents are okay with it?”

  “I think that could be great, Lilly.”

  ***

  Dude, keep your hands to yourself. Chuck pulled back, crossed his arms and tucked his hands into his sides. “You know, Lilly, you’re so hard on yourself for the mistakes you’ve made, as if you’re the only one. As if sexual sin is the only kind.”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  He took a deep breath. Hadn’t she always been open with him? “Remember when I told you about my dad and about trying to forgive the guy that hit him?”