Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  She yawned and turned to curl up against the back of the seat, her head resting in the crook of her arm. “Shhhh. It’s fine.” Her eyelids drooped.

  “Obviously, Katrina can’t go with all of this going on,” Chuck was saying when next she roused enough to see where they were. The entrance to their parking garage. Chuck was still talking, “And we need another female counselor. So, what do you say? Lillian?”

  “Hmm? What?” she turned and squinted through the dashboard at the garage lights. “Sure. Anytime. Happy to help. I’m just so…sleepy.” The hum of the truck pulled at her eyelids, and soon she couldn’t fight it.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chuck mulled over the conversation he’d had with his mom and Todd for days. They were right, of course. His life wouldn’t—couldn’t—move on until he settled with Tanner. His status with Lillian was a prime example of that. More importantly, he knew he had to obey the Lord. No matter what the rest of his life looked like. It was time.

  He called Pastor Ryan and began to meet with him every few days. For counsel. For prayer. To pour his heart out about Lillian to someone other than Felix or his mother.

  Unlike Felix, Pastor kept a straight face and just let Chuck talk. Much like Chuck’s mother, Pastor Ryan’s lips twitched when he professed his love for Lillian. But mostly they talked about Tanner. About Chuck’s father. About how bitterness can creep in, just a microscopic seed at first—barely detected most of the time. Until it grows so slowly it becomes a part of a man. Once it’s been fed enough, it produces fruit and takes over.

  Chuck swallowed. Images of kissing Lillian that night, remembering how he’d wanted her, filtered through his mind. He thought of leaving the apartment taut with regret. Of following Tanner. Of itching to punch Tanner when he’d suggested it. Of Drew opening Lillian’s door. Of Lillian’s sad, sloping eyes raking over him before she left the rooftop.

  Of the way his prayers had become stilted. His time in the Word wooden and dry. The bitterness had grown into a flourishing weed, leeching all nutrients from every other aspect of his life.

  “I want to be rid of it, Pastor Ryan. I do. I just…I thought if I told Tanner that I forgave him, the Lord would whoosh in and do the work.”

  Pastor Ryan’s mouth ticked up on one side. “God does it differently for everyone. More often than not, forgiveness requires more effort than just words. It often calls for sacrifice on the part of the forgiver. Jesus is the ultimate example of that.”

  “Sacrifice,” Chuck repeated.

  “Right. Sacrifice. And that’s why I believe it’s so hard for us to forgive at times. It requires even more of us. Not only have we been wronged, but to forgive requires mercy. Grace. Action.”

  “Mercy.”

  A slow spark worked through him, filling him with dread. As their time together wound down and Pastor Ryan prayed with him, the spark worked into a flame ducking in between the branches of bitterness, though not consuming them. By the time he got home, he knew just what to do that would dry up the root and allow the flame to consume it altogether.

  Would you really require so much, Lord?

  He heard the jangle of keys in the hall; Lillian coming home.

  Lord, if I do this…would you repair my relationship with Lillian?

  Silence.

  Her door opened and closed. Familiar bumps echoed from the other side of the wall. The sing song swoosh of her T.V. turning on. Strains of music. She must have turned on Pandora.

  How he longed to drop by her apartment with tacos, chips, and queso from her favorite taco bus down the street. To laugh with her over nothing. To talk with her about everything. Chuck sat in the quiet of his apartment, drinking in the sounds filtering in from Lillian’s apartment for a long time.

  He missed her.

  Heart pounding, he pushed off the couch and let himself into the hall. He knocked on her door and waited, heart thumping, until she answered. The hinges creaked as the door swung open. Lillian looked up at him in surprise, a wooden spoon in her free hand.

  Chuck took a deep breath. Shrugged. “Can I come in?”

  Lillian hesitated.

  “I could use a friend,” Chuck added. Troll, he scolded himself. You know she can’t resist anyone in need.

  Lillian took a step back and opened the door wider. She turned back toward the kitchen while Chuck shut the door. His gaze swept over her frame, appreciating the way she’d clipped the top half of her hair back, and the way her flowy sundress hugged her frame. It was yellow with tiny red flowers all over the fabric. It hit her at the knees, accentuating her toned calves. All that running had carved itself into her figure.

  “You look nice,” he commented.

  She turned in front of the fridge and looked down at herself. “Thanks. It’s so hot out there, I just couldn’t stand the thought of wearing anything that wasn’t flowy,” Lillian swished her hips.

  Chuck’s mouth parted. Yup. It was flowy.

  Lillian met his eyes again. Blushed. Cleared her throat. Something sputtered and she whirled back to the stove. “Have you eaten?”

  Chuck settled onto a barstool and leaned his elbows on the island. “No, but I don’t want to impose.”

  He watched her profile, appreciated the small smile that played on her lips. She stirred something in a big steaming pot with her right hand, turned off the burner beneath the small pan with her left.

  “I have plenty. And I definitely don’t need these leftovers hanging around. I was in the mood for pasta.”

  Chuck’s stomach cramped. He realized then that he’d skipped lunch. After his meeting with Pastor Ryan he’d just sat in his apartment, praying. Pleading. Wrestling. And then he’d heard Lillian in the hall, and like his own personal siren, he’d come running. Not that she’d asked him to.

  A timer went off and Lillian drained the pasta. Returned it to the big pot. Poured in white cream from the little pan. Stirred. Scooped a helping of noodles and sauce into one bowl, then another. She pinched a pile of green herbs on the cutting board next to the stove in her fingers and sprinkled it over their dishes. She repeated the movement, taking from the pile of shredded cheese this time.

  “Voila,” she said, setting the steaming bowl in front of Chuck before retrieving two forks from the drawer on the other side of the island and taking a seat next to him.

  Garlic and parmesan teased his senses, making his mouth water. “You better say the blessing, Lillian. I’m likely to drool all over your counter if I try.”

  She laughed softly and offered a short prayer for their meal…and for help with “whatever it is Chuck needs.” He glanced at her, and she lifted a brow with the small lift of her lips.

  They ate, with only Chuck’s grunts of approval and her soft “thank yous” breaking up the silence. When she was finished, Chuck stacked her bowl with his and headed for the sink.

  “Chuck, you don’t need to do dishes,” she protested as he turned on the water.

  “You cooked, I invited myself over; it’s only fair.”

  Rather than argue, she located a container for the leftovers and scooped the noodles in. “Please take this home,” Lillian said, holding up the square Tupperware.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had too much pasta and not enough running lately.”

  He’d noticed that. The part where she hadn’t been running. Not the too much pasta part. Chuck rinsed the last pot and dried it. He turned from the sink to look at her. Really look at her. There was a new peace over her features. Her eyes were no longer shadowed in hurt and sadness. She took the dry pots and hung them on the pot rack above the island.

  “Okay, Chuck, spill.”

  He jerked upright, wondering how long he’d been staring. He blinked. “How did you do it?”

  She blinked back. “Do what?”

  “Walk into that hospital and be a friend to Katrina after the way she treats you?”

  Lillian slid onto a barstool, and ran a finger through a few parmesan crumbs t
hat had landed near their bowls. “What do you mean?”

  He gave her a look. “Tiffany.”

  Lillian rolled her eyes. “Man, I love that girl, but she’s got a big mouth.”

  Chuck laughed softly. Waited.

  Lillian shrugged. “You know, Chuck, I didn’t really think of it. At first, the way that Katrina acted toward me felt right. Like she was the only one who saw me for who I was. Who knew I didn’t belong—”

  He opened his mouth but she held up a hand, palm out. “I know now that isn’t true. At least, I’m learning. Tiffany’s big mouth is handy sometimes. She’s been texting me, sending me reminders of who I am in Christ daily.”

  “Good for Tiff.” Chuck crossed his arms, and leaned against the counter. “So why did you go to the hospital?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know. I saw that Katrina’s dad was sick, and I felt compassion for her. It was the Lord, Chuck. I can’t take credit. He’s been showing me that sometimes you have to forgive a person by treating them with the grace and mercy that He has so freely given.”

  Mercy. There it was again. The hammer driving the nail in further. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.

  At his silence, Lillian’s eyes rounded. “I don’t mean—not in every—Chuck please don’t take that wrong.”

  He shook his head. Chewed on the inside of his cheek. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. Tanner.”

  A shadow passed over her eyes. “I haven’t…I haven’t seen him or anything.”

  “Lilly. He’s part of your mom’s family. Don’t think you have to avoid him out of some loyalty to me. Truth is, I know, now more than ever, that I need to forgive him. I’m just struggling over how.”

  The idea that had come to him earlier slammed forward again. And again, he struggled against it.

  “Chuck?” her hand on his arm startled him. When had she climbed off the stool and made her way across the kitchen? Her eyes were troubled—greens, blues, and browns blending together; the chocolate hues more prominent than usual.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s too late, isn’t it, Lillian? I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”

  She dropped her hand and swallowed, wrapping her arms around her middle. Puffed out an uncomfortable laugh. “I thought we were talking about Tanner.”

  He didn’t answer. She lifted one shoulder, nearly touching it against her ear. “Can’t we just do this, Chuck? Be friends like you said?”

  No. Not really. Not when all he wanted was to love her. But, then, he’d had his chance. And had broken her heart. If friendship was the only way he could be with her, so be it. He straightened. “I think I know how to forgive Tanner, but I’m not sure I can do it. Not sure I want to.”

  Lillian stared at him for several heartbeats, her eyes dancing between his, a slow sheen creeping over them. With a sad smile she cupped his face in her hand. His eyelids abandoned him, slammed shut. He leaned slightly into her caress.

  “’He who calls you is faithful and able to complete it.’”

  His eyes snapped open.

  Adrenaline worked through his veins. Realization struck—it was now or never. If he didn’t grasp the truth of that verse and go now, he never would.

  “I have to go, Lilly,” he whispered. It was her turn to close her eyes for a heartbeat. She opened them again, one tear slipping from her cheek. He reached to wipe it away.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Because I hate to see you hurting.”

  Chuck leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m very thankful for you, Lillian Rodgers.”

  ***

  Well that was…strange? Unexpected?

  Wonderful.

  And awful.

  For just a moment she’d been able to pretend that it was just like before. That Chuck had conveniently shown up just as she finished making dinner, hoping she would take pity on his poor soul and invite him to stay. That they could sit side by side in her kitchen, friends and nothing more.

  Of course, the air most likely didn’t tingle and tremble with friends the way it did when Chuck was around.

  Good gravy, those eyes of his.

  Although tonight they were tinged with sadness. She wanted to understand; knew that unless she experienced loss as he had, she could never fully grasp it. Still, her tears continued to blur her vision as she wiped down the counters.

  The last few days had been a break-through of sorts for Lillian. She’d spent more time in her Bible study seeking to understand the Lord. To see that her salvation relied on His work on the cross, not on her fumbling failures. She met and prayed with Jeni Ryan often. They finished the Corrie Ten Boom book and were now going through a study on Covenant. Lillian was in awe of the promise of the Messiah woven into every aspect of the Tabernacle of the Old Testament.

  But when it came to Chuck, she struggled with her self-worth. She knew she was the one that ultimately walked away from him. Knew that the reasons their relationship couldn’t work had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Tanner. But she wondered if their short dance with danger had made a relationship impossible regardless of the Tanner issue. They had gone from pursuing holiness in the way they interacted with one another to hot and heavy when real life hit.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if Chuck saw her differently now. She didn’t want to know the answer.

  Chapter Fifty

  Tanner didn’t answer his door when Chuck knocked. He checked the time on his phone.7:42. There was no telling when Tanner would come home. Chuck stood indecisively for a moment before settling onto the top step of the concrete stairs. He pulled out his phone and found a Mariners game in its fifth inning to watch online.

  By the bottom of the eighth, his rear was numb, and sweat rolled down his back. The tck-tck-tck of a ten-speed bicycle in motion preceded the crunch of tires on dirt as Tanner rounded the corner. He looked bone weary. His eyes were on the ground when he hopped off the bike before coming to a complete stop. He slipped a hand under the bar and hoisted it in the air, turning toward the stairs. His eyes locked on Chuck, and he froze.

  Chuck pocketed his phone and remained seated. Tanner schooled his features into a blank mask and slowly set the bike down, leaning it against the railing.

  “Change your mind about punching me?”

  Chuck took a deep breath. Here I am, Lord. And oh boy, how I need Your help…Especially if Tanner keeps looking at me like that. Lillian’s soft voice tickled through his mind like a soft summer breeze, “He who calls you is faithful and able to complete it…”

  Chuck lifted the leather book that sat on the stair next to him and stood. He took the steps slow, deliberately holding Tanner’s gaze.

  “I actually came to give you this,” his voice was low, scratching painfully past a lump in his throat. He held out the leather-bound book.

  Tanner’s eyes flickered to the book and back to Chuck’s face. His lip curled. “What is that? A Bible?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why, ‘cause you want me to know exactly what kind of Hell I’m headed for? Want me to underline and run a highlighter over the sins I’ve committed? Trust me, man, I already know.”

  He shouldered past him and jogged up the stairs. Chuck’s next words stopped him with his hand on the doorknob.

  “It was my father’s.”

  Tanner stood frozen, facing the door. Chuck watched his shoulders rise and fall, the pace picking up as if he couldn’t gulp the air around him fast enough.

  “Wh—” Tanner choked on the word before he could complete it. He turned slowly to face Chuck, face twisted in frustration. “You’re a religious man, right?” Tanner said at last.

  Chuck nodded. It was much more than that, of course.

  “And I gather your father was as well?”

  Another nod.

  Tanner’s face contorted in disgust. “Then what would possess you to give me something so…”

  “Valuable?” Chuck offered. “Precious? T
reasured? It’s all that and more. And not just because it belonged to my dad.”

  “Then why would you come here and try to give it to me?”

  Chuck took a deep breath. “I meant what I said last time I was here. I want to forgive you. And, honestly, that’s been a tough road. It’s still a process. Probably will be for some time. But, I believe in a God of mercy and grace. I stake my life on His promises.”

  He held up the Bible, worn from years of appropriate use. Even now, he could see his father bent over it before sunrise, a cup of coffee in his hands. “You talk about deserving Hell. I’ve lived it. And I believe you have, too. Truthfully, Tanner, I deserve Hell just as much as you do. In this book, God says that He ‘demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.’ It says that when I was His enemy, He died for me. See, I’ve been reconciled. While I was God’s enemy, he extended mercy and grace and died for me. How can I hold back from you what He so freely bestowed on me? What He so freely offers you of Himself?”

  Chuck set the Bible on the bottom step. He backed up a few feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Someone told me that true forgiveness often requires a sacrifice.” He nodded to the Bible. “My father wrote all over those pages. You can learn a lot about him just by reading his notes, seeing the words that he lived by. And I know he wouldn’t want me hanging onto sentimental memories when what you need is a Savior.”

  A muscle danced in Tanner’s jaw. Chuck gave him one last look and turned, heart pounding in his ears as he walked back to his truck.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Chuck, you can’t possibly consider that an agreement.” Lillian stood in her kitchen, fists planted on her hips, brows raised at Chuck’s ridiculous reasoning.

  His Labrador grin was back and stirring her belly with its charming curve. But then he shook his head and chuckled, and she could have slugged him.

  “Lilly, I’m sorry. But I asked you if you could help us out since Katrina needs to stay close to take care of her dad, and you agreed. I already told Pastor Ryan that you were coming. And it’s too late to find someone else. Everyone that’s background checked is already coming or busy or a man. We specifically need another woman. And we already asked the moms. Every single one of them told me to ask you.”