“I hate to tell you this, but, um, we’ve been set up. By an eight-year-old, who had some help from his little sister,” Lydia said.
Alec set down his tools. “Oh, yeah?” By the glower on his face, Lydia could tell he didn’t believe her. Most likely her neighbor thought she had arranged this little tРte-И-tРte.
“Look, I’m so sorry about this. My sink is not stopped up, and I’ll see to it that Tyler is properly disciplined for his shenanigans. Brooke, too, for her part in it. Please, take your wrenches and pliers back home. I just feel terrible for bothering you, and on a Friday evening, too. I’m sure you’ve got plans.” She stooped to lift the metal tool chest and hand it to him, but Alec quickly scooped it up.
“You know, Lydia,” he said, wagging a long finger at her, “that kid of yours. . .”
He suddenly burst into chuckles and Lydia nearly fainted with relief. He’s not angry. Thank You, Lord.
“Lydia,” he began again, “that kid’s precocious now, but just wait till he’s a teenager. Then what are you going to do?”
She shrugged helplessly. “Lock him in his room till he’s twenty-one? I don’t know.”
“Good luck.”
Lydia managed a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Alec.”
“No harm done, I guess.” He raised a brow as if in afterthought. “But it was Tyler who concocted this and not you, right? I mean, this isn’t some kind of plot to lure me into your house for an impromptu romantic dinner, using your kids’ little prank as the bait. . .is it?”
Stunned by the accusation, Lydia was rendered momentarily speechless. “I’d never devise a plan to entice a man into my home. If I wanted a dinner guest, I’d just send an invitation.”
Alec nodded, while eyeing her speculatively. “And this wasn’t your way of ‘sending’ out the invite, huh?”
“No, this wasn’t it.” Indignation quickly set in. “And for your information, I have more integrity than to use my children for anything sneaky and underhanded. I’m only sorry you have such a dark opinion of my character.”
“Look, Lydia, I didn’t mean to insult you, but I wasn’t sure. I’ve been the recipient of this kind of thing far too often. I dislike being set up and I hate blind dates.”
“Ditto.” She placed her hand on his upper arm and gave him a push toward the door, though it didn’t even budge him. “Good night,” she said tersely, “and, again, I apologize for the inconvenience.”
He turned and left peaceably without another word, and after soundly closing the door behind him, Lydia sagged against it. She squeezed her eyes together, forestalling the urge to break down and sob. How could Alec have insinuated she was some kind of Jezebel? She felt humiliated to the depth of her being.
“Mama?”
Glancing across the room, she saw Tyler and Brooke standing in the hallway near the kitchen entrance. Their small faces had worry lines creasing their brows.
“That was not nice, you two.”
The children had the good grace to look contrite.
“Go wash up and I’ll serve supper,” she instructed. “And while you eat, you’re both going to have a lesson on proper manners concerning next-door neighbors.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied as one before heading to the bathroom.
“And, Tyler?”
He paused. “Yes?”
“You are not to speak to that man again, do you understand? Furthermore, tomorrow morning you’re going to give that bicycle back.”
“But, Mama—”
“Don’t you argue with me. My mind’s made up.”
The boy’s face fell. “Yes, ma’am.”
❧
As Alec put dishes away in the kitchen cupboards, he spied Lydia through his window above the sink. It faced directly into her kitchen and, although there was a good deal of distance between them, Alec had a clear view as long as she didn’t close her blinds.
Curious, he stood there watching. She sat across the table from her kids whose backs were to him, and she appeared to be in serious discussion. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t raising her voice as some mothers were known to do, but at the same time, Alec instinctively knew Tyler and Brooke were getting a thorough reprimand.
He’d like to laugh off the whole incident, but his conscience sorely pricked him. He shouldn’t have confronted Lydia the way he did. She had looked as though she were going to cry. And he might have been tempted to think tears were part of the ploy, except something in her dusky eyes said otherwise.
Women. Go figure. His thoughts floated back.
When he’d met Denise shortly after becoming a Christian, he knew immediately she was the one for him. Denise with her stunning long, blond hair and big baby blues. He would have lassoed the moon for her—he’d been that captivated by the woman—and he had thought she felt the same. So when she broke their engagement, saying she’d “changed her mind,” Alec thought she was kidding. But she wasn’t, and within a week of their breakup, Denise had found someone new from their singles group at church. Unable to bear watching the romance unfold before his eyes, Alec decided to leave—first the church, then Milwaukee, and finally the whole state of Wisconsin. He’d left family behind, but they had never been closely knit. His parents divorced when Alec and his sisters were young; they’d been shuffled from mother to father and back to their mother again. No, there hadn’t been anything or anybody standing in Alec’s way once he’d made up his mind to leave.
But now that he was here, he didn’t quite know how to deal with his pretty new neighbor. Oh, he felt attracted to her, no doubt about it, except he sure wished he didn’t. Besides, he’d learned beauty was only skin deep and he wasn’t about to make another mistake and fall headlong in love with some fickle-minded woman, like Denise, who’d break his heart again.
It’s best Lydia thinks I’m a jerk, he decided, turning away from the window and resuming his task of unpacking his kitchen. Then she’ll hate me, and she’ll stay away. Good. That’s just fine by me.
❧
The next morning Alec awoke to the sun streaming through his bedroom window. Another glorious day in the South. He dressed and straightened up a bit, reminding himself the Singles Group from church was meeting at his house tonight for a Bible study. Around noon, he ambled outside into his backyard, deciding to cut the lawn. He’d just pulled the mower out of the garage, when he spotted Lydia and Tyler walking up his driveway wheeling along the new bike he’d given the kid last week.
“Good morning,” he called, still feeling a bit sheepish for his bad behavior yesterday.
Lydia smiled a taut greeting as he strode across the grass to meet them.
“Hi, Tyler.”
“Hi.” The boy glanced down at his tennis shoes.
“We came to give the bicycle back to you,” his mother began. She wore a short-sleeved denim dress with little pink flowers sewn onto its bodice and Alec noticed its color made her eyes look bluer. . .or was that anger darkening her gaze? “Tyler really has all the toys he needs,” she drawled, “and he has a bicycle. We decided this should go to somebody who doesn’t own one already.”
“Hmm. . .” Alec looked at the boy, still studying the pavement.
“But we appreciate your generosity all the same. . .don’t we, Ty?”
“Yeah,” he replied, sounding less than enthused.
“Look, Lydia, if this is about last night—”
“Take the bike,” she said curtly, pushing it toward him. “We don’t want it.” She put an arm around her son’s drooping shoulders. “Come along, Ty.”
As they retreated down the driveway, Alec stood there holding onto the handlebars, watching them go. Lydia had put her thick chestnut mane in some sort of clip at the back of her head, and her hair bobbed with each irritated step she took. “Aren’t you making a little too much of this?” he couldn’t help but call after her.
She stopped short. Turning to Tyler, she sent him on his way before spinning on her heel and marching back toward him.
“I know you can’t help it, Mr. Corbett.”
He arched a brow. “Help what?”
“Your rude behavior. Your bitter attitude. Since I am surrounded by Christians at work all week long, and seeing as my friends are believers, I forget what the world is really like. But the Lord Jesus Christ can make a difference in your life. He made a difference in mine.”
Alec smirked. “I’m a believer. You’re preaching to the choir, honey.”
“Yes, well,” she glanced down momentarily before meeting his gaze once more. “Tyler told me you said you were a Christian, but just going to a church doesn’t make you a born-again child of God. It’s not about a religion, it’s about a relationship with the Savior.”
“Lydia, I am a born again believer. I got saved five years ago.”
Confusion crossed her pretty face. “But you don’t act like it, and Jesus said we would know fellow believers by their fruit.”
“Listen, don’t you dare stand in judgment of me,” he stated harshly. “You don’t even know me.”
“But you stand in judgment of me and you don’t know me, either.”
Alec brought his chin up sharply as her comment met its mark.
“Now, as you’re aware, we’re having a little trouble at our church,” she said in that sweet southern voice of hers. “Some resentful former members are out to get my father-in-law, but he is a good preacher and I’d like to invite you to come out and hear him tomorrow morning.”
“I attend another church, but thanks,” Alec replied dryly.
Lydia just nodded before walking away. Again, Alec watched her go, but this time he didn’t feel as remorseful about having offended her as he did about having offended the Lord, Himself.
Seven
“Boy, Alec, some neighbor you are. I’m glad you don’t live next door to me!”
He looked over at the woman with short, light brown hair, sitting sideways in a chair, her jean-encased legs dangling over its arm. “Thanks, Debbie,” he replied sarcastically. “I knew I could count on you for some encouragement.”
The young woman laughed as did several of his other friends. Since they began tonight’s Bible study with prayer requests, Alec mentioned Lydia, the situation with her father-in-law, and then before he knew it, he’d spilled the whole story—how he’d fixed her sink, come to her rescue last Monday night, and finally how he had insulted her character and she, in return, had doubted his faith.
He sighed heavily. “I feel doubly bad,” he added, “because Lydia has told her kids they can’t speak to me. Poor Tyler. . . you should have seen him out in his yard this afternoon. He seemed miserable. He’s just dying for some male companionship, not to mention the fact that he’s mourning the loss of a new bike.”
“Well, there’s a reason why God moved you in next door,” dark-headed Larry said, lifting another slice of pizza out of the box sitting on the coffee table. “Maybe He wants you to be a father figure to the boy.”
“Too late now,” Alec replied. “I blew it.”
“Did you try apologizing?” Debbie asked sarcastically.
Alec clenched his jaw, but he had to confess—he hadn’t.
“Why don’t you go over right now and tell your neighbor you’re sorry?” Judy suggested, folding her leg beneath her as she sat on the floor near Debbie. She flipped a portion of her long hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah. . .wouldn’t want the sun to go down on your anger,” Tim said from his place on the sofa next to Alec. “Or hers.”
Alec shook his head. “If I go over there, Lydia will most likely slam the door in my face. And I’d deserve it.”
“Regardless of her reaction,” Debbie stated bluntly, “you still have an obligation to do what’s right.”
“Hey, who invited you tonight, anyway?” Alec teased, grinning all the while.
“Go on, Alec,” Judy prodded. “And after you make amends, invite her to our Bible study.”
“She won’t come. Her kids are probably asleep and Lydia told me she doesn’t like to leave them unattended, even to walk next door.”
“Well, if she’s Gerald Boswick’s daughter-in-law,” Larry put in, “she most likely won’t come just because we’re not a part of Southern Pride Community Church. They think they’re the only ones going to heaven.”
“Hmm. . .” Alec mulled over the remark, wondering if that was the real reason Lydia had doubted his faith.
“Hold on, you guys,” Debbie said, “we’re getting off track. The problem isn’t Lydia, it’s Alec. He did wrong and he’s got to apologize.” She gave him a pointed stare. “So, go on. Git.”
“You know,” Alec said, rising from the sofa, “I think you need to practice some of that meek and quiet spirit stuff.”
“Which is in the sight of God of great price,” Tim added, pushing his wire-rim glasses higher up on his nose. He was always the one to quote Scripture.
Debbie threw her empty Styrofoam cup at the both of them and everyone laughed again.
❧
Lydia sat on the couch with the cordless phone in her lap. Beside her was her address book, containing her mother’s new phone number. Should she call? What would she say?
Lord, I feel like a little girl who’s missing her mama. She picked up the receiver, but then set it down again. She couldn’t decide.
The front doorbell rang, causing Lydia to jump. Slowly, she rose from the immaculate, cream upholstered sofa and padded in her stocking feet to the living room window. She peeked out through the lacy sheers. Alec. What does he want?
Reluctantly, she went to the door and pulled hard on the knob, simultaneously donning her best hostess expression. “Well, Mr. Corbett,” she greeted. “What a surprise.”
“Can the ‘Mr. Corbett’ stuff, Lydia. I came here to apologize.”
She took a deep breath, bracing herself. This man, while handsome enough, possessed an abrasive demeanor and his presence threatened her fragile composure at the moment. She could scarcely believe she’d had the courage to stand up to him this morning.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did last night,” he began, his voice sounding softer. Lydia noticed his eyes. She had thought they were plain brown, a lighter shade than her children’s dark gazes, but she’d been mistaken. They were the color of topaz, and beneath her porch light they shone with sincerity. “I guess I’m one of those guys once bitten, twice shy, as the old clichО goes. And you were right. I’ve been standing in judgment of you, using the same measuring stick I hold to the woman who hurt me. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”
Unsure of her emotions, Lydia merely nodded. On one hand, she felt taken aback by his humility, on the other, she was grateful for his candidness.
“How ’bout we call a truce, okay?” Alec stuck out his right hand.
She smiled. How could she help it? When he put his mind to it, this man could be downright charming. “All right. Truce.” She slipped her hand into his much larger one.
Alec gave it a gentle squeeze and grinned. “Truce.” Then, much to her surprise, he didn’t let it go. “Say, listen, some friends from church and I are having a Bible study. Want to join us?”
“I can’t,” she replied, feeling oddly disappointed. “Tyler and Brooke are sleeping.”
At last, he released her hand. “Yeah, I figured, but I thought I’d invite you anyhow.”
Lydia managed a weak smile as Alec sharpened his gaze and searched her face.
“You weren’t. . .crying, were you?”
“No. I think I’m catching a cold,” she fibbed. In truth, she’d been sobbing on and off all day—whenever she thought the kids wouldn’t see. But she hadn’t expected her new neighbor to be so perceptive and now she felt embarrassed. Were her eyes still red? Her face p
uffy? Good night! Why had she even answered the door?
“Yeah, well, I heard there’s a flu bug going around.”
Lydia nodded. “And you’d better put on a coat,” she advised in her strongest voice, “or you’re liable to catch pneumonia.”
“Are you kidding?” Alec chuckled, and she thought it had a nice, happy sound to it. He didn’t appear quite so formidable when he smiled, either. “It’s fifty-five degrees out here. That’s practically summer to me.”
She folded her arms, feeling chilled to the bone. “Then you’ll positively melt when it’s July and one hundred degrees in the shade.”
“You’re probably right. But I’d rather melt than freeze to death.” He smiled at her again. “Well, I’d better get back. See ya, Lydia.”
She smiled back. “See ya.”
She watched him walk away—Alec in his purple-and-green long-sleeved shirt with The Milwaukee Bucks printed across the front. At least it’s neatly tucked into his blue jeans, she thought, closing the door. He might be a casual dresser, but he never looked like a slob. Walking farther into the living room, she allowed her gaze to fall on the telephone. You’d like him, Mama. You’d like Alec Corbett. In a way, he reminds me of Michael.
Eight
Alec reentered his house and all eyes turned on him.
“So?” Debbie asked. “What happened?”
“I apologized and everything’s fine.” His friends cheered and Alec couldn’t help a grin, although inside he felt sorry for Lydia. She’d been crying, all right. He could tell. He’d grown up with sisters and he knew the signs. What’s more, she looked like she might have enjoyed some company tonight.
“Did you invite her to the Bible study?” Judy asked.
“Yeah, but just like I told you, her kids are sleeping.”
“And it’s probably too late to get a baby-sitter,” Debbie remarked. She lifted a contemplative brow. “But we could take our Bible study over to her place. You think she’d be interested, Alec?”
“Yeah, I think Lydia might be interested.”
“No kidding?” Larry feigned a shocked expression. “A Boswick wants to attend a Bible study outside of SPCC? I’m about to have heart failure!”
Southern Sympathies Page 6
