Love's Providence: A Contemporary Christian Romance Page 3

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re the life of the party.”

  Little Miss Perfect was making this way too easy. She turned and jerked her head at the other two.

  “Let’s go.”

  They stood up and flashed adorable smiles. Then they sang their goodbye as bubbly as they had their hello. The brunette flipped her hair and winked, and he stifled a laugh. That girl was going to be trouble in another year or two.

  Lily, on the other hand, was already trouble. He could feel it. Something about her still lingered after she’d disappeared, like the aftertaste of an expensive wine. It reminded him of why he hated the stuff.

  Chapter Three

  July 1

  Birmingham, Alabama

  Jackson climbed out of the rusty Oldsmobile handed down from his mom and pushed the door closed. The squeak in the hinges was getting louder every day, and this time it was accompanied by a loud pop. That door had to be close to falling off, and no amount of oil seemed to relieve it. Just another item on the long list of repairs he needed but couldn’t afford. Sooner or later he was going to have to find a job that paid real money.

  He pushed his hair off his brow and gently stretched his knee as he glanced around. It was sore and a little swollen from therapy, but at least he wasn’t hobbling around on crutches anymore.

  The sun was high, and heating up the morning rain on the asphalt, making a steam that hovered just above the street. He stepped onto the sidewalk and started up the small hill of his front yard, his knee aching with the effort. When he reached the top, he noticed Mr. Baker a few houses down making his way from his mailbox to his front door. The curve to his back looked even worse than it had just a week ago, and he shuffled along the walkway with his mail in hand.

  Jackson thought of his session with Dr. Kipling earlier that morning—another useless hour of his life wasted with someone who had no idea how to help him. He’d promised his mom he would go, had promised to try to talk to someone, even if he didn’t believe for a fraction of a second in that psychological mumbo jumbo. But this morning Dr. Kipling had told him to reach outside of himself and look for ways to help someone else. It had made sense at the time, but now it just seemed like more useless talk.

  He flexed his knee again and debated with himself another minute. Maybe she was right. Maybe helping someone else would take his mind off his own loss.

  Mr. Baker was only a few paces away from his front steps when Jackson finally decided it was worth a shot, but he realized he’d have to hurry to catch the old man before he was gone. He jogged a few steps, but his knee groaned as his left foot hit the ground. He tried to push through it, jogging a few more steps, but Mr. Baker was already half-way up the stairs, and Jackson still had another neighbor’s yard to cross to reach him.

  Suddenly his foot landed awkwardly in a small hole, and his knee lurched forward. He stumbled but caught his balance, narrowly avoiding a headlong fall into a row of shrubs as his knee sent stabbing reminders of why he shouldn’t be jogging in the first place. He gripped it tight, trying to rub out the pain. A couple of houses over, Mr. Baker opened his screen door and shuffled inside.

  It figured. Try and do something nice, and he was still as useless now as he’d been months ago. It was a dumb idea anyway. How do you help someone else when you can’t even help yourself?

  He turned and headed back across his yard, bending and stretching his leg out every few strides. He glanced down at his watch and realized he only had twenty minutes to get ready for work. He was better off anyway. Helping the old guy would have just made him late.

  He pushed open the front door and scanned the living room and kitchen briefly for Matthew, but the house appeared to be empty. He headed into his bedroom and slipped his socks and shoes off. Then he took a quick shower, hoping to wash away the murky heaviness that still clung to his chest. As the water rushed over his skin, he took a deep breath and let the tension run out of him as well.

  He should have tried harder to cooperate this morning. Dr. Kipling had been kind and patient with him, and he really did want to get on with his life, but it seemed impossible. Even when he did try, fate was set against him. It would be so much easier to crawl under a rock and hide.

  He stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist, catching his reflection in the mirror. At least the hours in the gym were paying off. He could make out the beginnings of his atrophied six pack. Maybe if he worked hard enough to get his outside back to normal, his insides would follow suit.

  He returned to his bedroom and began searching for his uniform in all the usual places—behind the beanbag in the corner, shoved into the wicker chest at the end of his bed, and finally draped over the desk chair. His shirt was buried beneath the clothes he’d worn the day before, but his khakis were nowhere to be found. Maybe it was time to start organizing his room like an actual adult, maybe even buy a dresser.

  He shuffled some clothes off his desk and noticed the small book sitting precariously on the corner. He picked it up and read the title again: A Grief Observed, by C. S. Lewis. Dr. Kipling had recommended it several times over the past few weeks, but he’d only picked it up a couple of days ago. He’d read the first page, but it touched way too close to home right now, and he’d meant to put it back. But something had stopped him. For a moment he’d thought he heard a familiar voice, so he’d held onto the book and glanced around.

  And then he’d seen her.

  Lily had walked out the door of the book store, and his entire body had turned warm and liquid. Had she seen him? He still wondered.

  The front door slamming shut brought him out of his thoughts, and a few seconds later Matthew stuck his head around the open bedroom door. His black hair glistened with sweat, and a pink glow was fading out of his freckled cheeks. Jackson assumed he’d been playing basketball down at the Y, but he didn’t ask, and Matthew knew better than to mention it.

  “You heading off to work soon?” Matthew asked.

  “If I can find my pants.” Jackson turned again and pushed the covers around on his bed.

  “Can I get a ride?”

  “Sure. Hey, do you have any clean khakis I can borrow?”

  “Are you kidding? Even if I did, they would look like Clamdiggers on you.”

  Jackson chuckled. “True, I guess.”

  He tossed the book he was holding back onto the desk and returned to the bathroom. As he tunneled through the dirty clothes hamper, he heard Matthew call from his room.

  “So how did your session go with the beautiful Dr. Kipling?”

  Jackson found the pants, examined them, and then brought them to his nose. Close enough. He slipped the pants on and stepped back into his bedroom to find Matthew seated on the bed. He was holding the C. S. Lewis book open.

  Jackson shrugged. “It was fine. Just a bunch of psycho babble about looking for ways to help others instead of focusing on myself.”

  “What’s this? Another stellar recommendation from the doc?”

  “Yep.” Jackson slipped on his shirt and tucked it in. “You know, if you want to ride with me to work, you better get ready. I’m leaving in ten minutes.”

  “Oh, well then I have plenty of time.” Matthew grinned and tossed the book aside. He started to open his mouth but appeared to think better of it. He stood and walked through the door before turning around. Jackson searched for his boots under his bed, and when he stood up, Matthew was staring at him.

  “What? I know you’re dying to say something. Just spit it out.”

  Matthew leaned against the doorjamb with his arms over his chest.

  “You seem more like your old self these days.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s just good, I guess. You working out, and getting a job at the restaurant. I even saw you smile at that group of girls the other night. You know, the bachelorette party? They were flirting with you something fierce.”

  “They were a little drunk.”

  “Doesn’t matt
er man. Every girl that comes into that place wants to be seated in your section. You gotta be killing the tips.”

  “Nah. I have gotten a few accidental encounters with my rear end though.”

  Matthew laughed and shook his head. “Well, anyway. It’s good to see, that’s all. You thought about asking anybody out?”

  “Nope.”

  Jackson pushed past him and continued into the kitchen. It was too much to hope for Matthew to just take the hint and go get ready for work. As he opened the fridge and ducked down to peer inside, he heard the scrape of a chair on hardwood.

  “It’s just not healthy,” Matthew said. “You might as well join a monastery or something.”

  “I’m not catholic.”

  “Come on, man. Go out with me and Ashley sometime. She has some cute friends.”

  “Why are you so interested in my love life?” Jackson pulled two sodas out of the refrigerator and passed one to Matthew. Then he took the seat across from him and popped the top of his.

  “I just want to see you happy, man. That’s all.”

  “Quit worrying about me so much. I’m fine. And dating is the last thing on my mind right now.”

  “See, that’s how I know you’re still not okay. You’re wasting away the best years of your life. You could have almost any girl you wanted, and you barely even notice. That’s just not right.”

  Jackson took a long gulp of his soda and looked out the window. How could he expect Matthew to understand? He’d probably have agreed with him a year ago, but not anymore.

  “I’m just not ready.”

  “Is it because of Lily?”

  Jackson sighed and leaned back in his chair as Matthew put his palms up in the air.

  “Hey, man. I know we agreed the subject was off limits, but that was months ago. Maybe you should just call her or-“

  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Look, you and Lily were there for me when mom died. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t offered me a place to live. Probably some cardboard box in Nashville. You, Aunt Mary, Lily—all of you—made me realize how important it is to have people you love around in hard times. I just want to help.”

  Jackson looked down at his watch and then back up at Matthew.

  “Four minutes.”

  He pushed away from the table and walked out the front door to his car.

  St Simons Island, Georgia

  Lily propped her elbows on the top rail of the pier and rested her chin in her hands. Next to her, Kara and Rachel sat dangling their legs over its edge while they watched a shrimp boat sail past with porpoises leaping behind it. Just beyond the massive bridge over the waterway a few miles west, the sun had burst into an array of pinks and oranges as it left the evening sky. The scene seemed almost surreal, and for a moment she breathed in a deep calm.

  “This is beautiful,” she said. “I could just toss up a hammock and go to sleep right here.”

  “Hmm, me too,” Kara said.

  Rachel leaned over the rail in front of her and glanced down at the dark water swirling around the pilings.

  “Wow, I’d hate to fall in here. The water looks pretty rough.”

  Lily snorted, “Well, then genius, don’t lean so far over the railing.”

  Rachel stuck her tongue out and pulled herself up. “You guys ready to head over to the putt-putt course?”

  As they strolled toward the shore, Rachel yelped and grabbed Kara’s arm. She pointed toward the end of the pier.

  “Hey! Those are the cops we were talking to last night! Let’s go say hi!”

  Lily noticed the police car and the officers beside it, but before she could voice her objection, the two of them took off running.

  “Great,” she mumbled to herself as she continued across the pier. “Now they’re going to think we’re flaky tourists stalking them.”

  She considered keeping her distance. She could still easily keep an eye on them from the chairs beneath the live oak near the pier. That would be better than listening to that arrogant one poke fun at her.

  As she passed the patrol car a couple of yards away, she caught a glance of all of them laughing. It sent a stab of regret through her. Maybe Kara was right about her. Maybe she didn’t know how to have fun anymore.

  Kara’s eyes met hers. She jerked her head toward the others and mouthed the words, “Come on.”

  Well, she had to start somewhere. Maybe she wasn’t the life of the party, but she’d never move on moping around by herself. So she walked over and joined Kara and Rachel, though she was determined to avoid conversation with the action hero wanna-be.

  Rachel and Kara stood in front of Steve and Alex who leaned against the car with their arms crossed like it was the official pose of the evening. Rachel giggled as she flipped her hair, and Lily rolled her eyes. She forced a smile as she noticed Alex giving her a once over. One track mind.

  “Hello again,” he said.

  Lily nodded, but she tried to focus her attention on the kids playing at the park rather than the tiny wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled at her, or the flutters in her stomach. It was exactly the reaction he’d want her to have, and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction, whether he was aware of it or not. But when she glanced back at him, he was still smiling at her, as if he already knew her secret.

  She cleared her throat and turned her attention toward Steve as he answered Kara’s questions about his fiancée.

  “Actually, we met almost two years ago. Right after Alex and I became partners. She had such a warm smile.”

  His mouth widened into a huge grin pricking Lily unexpectedly. It was nice—and painful—to remember what love looked like.

  “How did you meet her?” she asked.

  “Alex introduced us. Chloe’s his sister, and she cooked dinner for us one night.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re marrying Alex’s sister?” She couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What’s so funny about that?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing I guess. But it explains why a guy as nice as Steve would be hanging around with the likes of you.”

  “Ouch!” Steve laughed and elbowed Alex in the rib.

  Alex smiled, but his voice iced over. “I guess I’m some horrible excuse for a human being?”

  “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean-“

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Must be nice to be perfect.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, and the moment of guilt was gone. She reminded herself of her promise to avoid him. So she retreated into her own mind again, blocking out much of their conversation. So much for moving on.

  She was about to slip away when a car behind her honked its horn causing her to jump. She stepped out of the way as a green Pontiac rounded the end of the parking lot, pulled through the space between the patrol car and the opposite curb, and headed up the next row. Lily turned and leaned against the police car, not noticing until it was too late that she was standing beside Alex. His arm brushed hers, sending the hairs to attention.

  She glanced at him, unable to keep herself from noticing the way the sleeves of his uniform hugged his shoulders and biceps. He reached for the sleeve closest to her and tugged it, loosening it a bit. She cleared her throat and looked away, searching for anything else to concentrate on, but she could still feel his eyes on her, and she wondered why he was trying so hard to make her squirm.

  “So where are you from again?” he asked.

  She forced herself to look at him, and his grin sent a warm flush up her neck and cheeks.

  “Alabama.” She tried to say it as lightly as possible.

  “Yeah, I caught that part. Where in Alabama?”

  “Uh, well that gets a little confusing sometimes.”

  “Well, what can you expect from an education in Alabama?”

  Lily froze, the rest of her answer still hanging in her mouth. Had he really just said that? Of course he had, and whatever gymnastics her stomach had been doing disappeared.


  “Oh come on,” he said. “Lighten up a little. I was just kidding. Really, what’s so confusing about where you live in Alabama?”

  She fought back the urge to take a jab at him in return.

  “Well, as I was about to say, my parents divorced when I was little and they live in different cities. My mom lives in Birmingham and my dad in Cedar Creek, about an hour away. I’ve lived with both of them—mom during the school year, dad during the summer—so both places feel like home. But right now I’m living with my aunt in Birmingham while I work at volleyball camps for the summer.”

  “Why not just live with your mom?”

  “Uh, that’s kind of a long story. And very boring.”

  “In other words, it’s none of my business.”

  “Pretty much,” she shrugged. “Sorry, no offense.”

  Alex glanced over at Kara and nodded. “So Kara is…”

  “…my step-sister.”

  “I see. That explains why you two look so different.”

  “Yeah, she really favors my stepmom.”

  “Man, your stepmom must be hot.”

  “What?” she sputtered.

  He smiled again and nudged her with his elbow.

  “Dad remarried well, huh?”

  She stepped away and shook her head, refusing to be baited. She was about to insist they leave when the green Pontiac rounded the cars on the next row down, clipping the tail of the car on the end. Metal screeched against metal as the Pontiac took the curve. It never even paused as it slid into a parking space beside the playground.

  Steve pushed away from the patrol car and eyed the Pontiac. “Guess we should check that out.”

  Alex didn’t move. “Let’s see what happens. Maybe they’ll call the police and dispatch will send someone over.” He glanced at Lily sideways. “Fender benders suck.”

  It seemed like a good chance to walk away. Lily reached out and tapped Kara’s arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  The door on the Pontiac swung open and smashed into a black sedan next to it. A lady stumbled out of the driver’s side, a tiny thing with bushy hair and a miniskirt that barely covered her rear. She let out a string of curses and slammed the door, rocking the car. She bent over, examined the sedan and swayed a couple of steps sideways.