by Pat Simmons
Was she attracted to Nicholas? Yes, and it wasn’t only the physical. She did feel a connection. “I’m not a bad person. I’m just not a church person. You are, and I’d think your compatibility would be among the church pool.”
“Miss Knicely, I’m thirty-six years old and single for a reason. There is a difference between a woman who loves God and a woman who loves church—people change, rules change, leadership changes. If a person loves Jesus, really loves Him, his or her love will never change. That is the kind of woman my heart longs for.”
There was so much passion behind his words. “I do love Jesus,” she said aloud, but it was meant for her ears only. Was she trying to convince him or herself?
“I’ll let you read between the lines. The only way you can see me as more than a minister is to get to know me right now, at this moment.”
So he was challenging her. “You’re a minister, and I don’t want you to step out of that role to be with me. I really respect you, Nicholas.”
“That’s good to know. I wish everyone did,” he murmured, and that piqued her interest.
Rachel frowned and scooted up in her chair. She had a feeling there was a story behind that statement. “What do you mean? If it’s confidential, then I understand.”
There was silence on the other end. She wondered if it was the case.
“Only names and certain situations are confidential, but every family I minister to isn’t appreciative.”
“I hope no one slammed the door in your face,” she joked.
“Well…the son would have if I hadn’t jammed my foot in the door to keep him from doing it.”
“Oh no,” she gasped. Rachel hadn’t expected others to be hostile to ministers. She thought it was just her, because of her own anxiety.
He grunted, then explained what happened. “Her son tries to come off as tough, but his soul is hungry.”
“Maybe my soul is hungry too. I’ve begun to read my Bible again.” She eyed the Bible beside her. “You seem to make the Scriptures come alive. I can listen to you for hours.”
“I can listen to you for hours too. I don’t want my attraction to be one-sided, so does this mean you will call?”
Persistent. “Whew.” Coming from another man, it would be annoying. Hearing Nicholas utter it, she was flattered.
“Is that a good ‘whew’ or bad?” he pressed her.
“It’s not bad, but…” Snoring from the dogs gave Rachel a distraction and time to form her thoughts and words carefully. “The day of Aunt Tweet’s funeral, you followed me outside from the repast, and you were so kind. I wasn’t sure if you were attracted to me. My curiosity kept building every time I saw you, but it was at the NFL Draft that I thought maybe…maybe you were interested. Of course, my sisters and Jacqui thought so.”
“I’m very much interested.”
Rachel smiled. “But this is where I’m struggling. My aunt just died. How can I think about a relationship when I just lost Aunt Tweet?” She gnawed on her lips, waiting for him to make sense of her confusion.
“To be honest, I had the same hesitation about approaching you when I flew to St. Louis for the funeral, but I knew I had to be there…for you. I put my feelings on hold because I didn’t want to come across as disrespectful while you were mourning. And there is no expiration date on grieving.” He paused, and Rachel exhaled, relieved that he understood how she felt. He continued. “I didn’t have the pleasure of getting to know your aunt, but I do know that without her, I never would have met you and felt the connection I have.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Rachel patted her chest, touched.
“Are you making fun of me, Miss Knicely?”
“I would never do that!” she said too harshly, then apologized. She’d never mock him.
“You’re forgiven.”
Rachel exhaled when she could hear a smile behind his words, but it was the way he said “forgiven” that made her wonder if he was talking about himself or God forgiving her. “Again, Nicholas, I’m not opposed to becoming more than friends, but I don’t know how this will work between us. My Sunday routine doesn’t include going to church. I’m being honest.”
Rachel stood, and the dogs scrambled to their feet. Before opening the door that led into the living room, she gave the Nashville skyline one more appreciative glance.
“Honesty is a good start. I like talking to you over the phone, but I’d rather look at you. Maybe next time, I can take you out.”
“I would like that.” She sensed that Nicholas was about to end the call, so Rachel said, “Before you hang up, do you mind explaining a passage in the Bible for me?” She was hopeful, like a child about to unwrap a birthday gift.
“You know I don’t mind—ever. Bible study can be a date. Just sayin’.” He chuckled.
“That’s thinking outside the box.” She lifted her brow. If he was flirting, she was soaking it in.
“I’m serious, so what passage?”
“Acts 8.” Rachel gritted her teeth. “Do you mind reading the whole chapter?” She rushed on. “I know it’s like thirtysomething verses, but if you can’t, the verse about the eunuch.”
“The Bible is like reading poetry.”
Rachel followed along and asked a few questions, and like Philip in the chapter, Nicholas answered each one. I guess the Bible really is a love story, she thought, because all she felt was love and perfect peace.
Chapter 12
Nicholas wasn’t complaining as one call turned into many. Every morning, Rachel called him as she enjoyed her cup of organic coffee while he drove home from his overnight shift at the plant. They clicked, as he’d suspected they would.
“Thanks,” Rachel said out of the blue one morning.
“For?”
“Making the call.”
His heart soared. “Thank you for taking it.” Nicholas couldn’t help but grin like a toddler. He didn’t feel the same pressure from Rachel as he had from some women at church whom he had taken out to dinner a few times. Their conversation had always included statements about how they can cook, how they loved the Lord, and how they would make a good minister’s wife.
Rachel wasn’t making those claims, although Nicholas had a suspicion she could fill those shoes. She was indeed a breath of fresh air. All she wanted was to get to know him, and Nicholas wanted more, so on Thursday, he sent flowers to her office at Gersham-Smith with an invitation. Then he fell asleep on the sofa.
Will you join me for a date-night concert at Schermerhorn Center, Friday night? Send me a text. Type Y for Yes, N for Not now, 2 for Too soon. Nicholas
When the phone rang and he saw Rachel’s number, Nicholas did his best to clear the sleep out of his voice before answering.
“Why do I need to text instead of calling?” She giggled, and the sound thrilled him.
“Because I didn’t know if they would arrive while you were in a meeting or otherwise busy.”
“Perfect timing,” she said sweetly. “Oh! Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I’ll let you sleep,” she said.
“What’s your answer, so I can sleep like a baby?”
“Y for yes and N for never too soon.”
“I like how you spun that, Miss Knicely. I’ll get tickets for this Friday’s performance of Under the Streetlamp with the Nashville Symphony.”
“Can’t wait. Now, get your rest so you can wake me up when you’re driving to work.” The caring nature of her voice did indeed help him sleep like a baby.
On Friday evening, Nicholas arrived at her condo as excited as if he were going to senior prom—which he had skipped.
The symphony featured more than fifty date-night concert packages a season, which included two glasses of wine and a box of Goo Goo Chocolates. He wouldn’t use the tickets for the wine, but he was sure Rachel would enjoy the candy, which was a hometown favorite.
&nbs
p; Although he had sent her flowers earlier in the week, he didn’t want to show up empty-handed. While online, Nicholas had stumbled on a website that sold personalized paperweights with a twenty-four-hour turnaround.
Nicholas knocked on her door and didn’t have to wait long for her to answer. When she opened the door, his jaw dropped. Rachel’s hair was brushed to one side again. The beige, or maybe it was cream or ivory—Nicholas never mastered the color chart—dress was form-fitting but modest, and the heels brought her almost eye to eye with him.
“Wow,” slipped from his mouth as he handed her his gift.
“Ah. Thank you.” She accepted it and invited him to come inside.
“If you’re not ready, I don’t mind waiting out here.” He pointed to the sitting area down the hall near the elevators. Seeing the confusion on her face, Nicholas explained, “Rachel, there’s no buffer between us—no Aunt Tweet or public setting. I have a good name, and so do you. I want to keep both unblemished. There’s too much temptation for a couple when they are alone. Please say you understand.”
She tilted her head as if she was processing it, then smiled. “I trust you, Nicholas, and though I don’t fully understand the big deal, I won’t give you a hard time.”
“Thank you.” Once she retrieved her wrap, she stepped out and locked the door. Together, they strolled to the elevator.
A true Nashvillian appreciated any genre of music—gospel, country, soul, jazz—and the symphony played it all. The concert serenaded them for hours. Although their words were few, Nicholas was aware of her every movement and the rhythm of her breathing. At the end of the night, his first date with Rachel had not disappointed his heart. It was as if they were a perfect match with the things they had in common—entertainment, food, and movies. Although there was more to explore, his heart sent signals to his brains that Rachel Knicely could be the one.
* * *
A few weeks later, while Rachel ate lunch at her desk, she confided in Jacqui on the telephone. “I don’t know about the whole ‘meeting the family’ thing. I’m not sure where this is going.”
“Ah, from what you told me, it’s a casual dinner with his brother and sister-in-law. That is totally different from meeting his parents.”
Rachel humphed. “Family is family. I don’t care if it’s a grandmother or godmother,” she said before reaching for a bottle of water.
Jacqui laughed. “Hmm, sounds like Nicholas has you discombobulated.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I know, right? But there’s something about him that I don’t want to disappoint, if that makes sense.” She kept her voice low to avoid prying ears in the office.
“Yeah, it makes a lot of sense.” Jacqui paused. “I believe you have finally met your equal.”
Rachel spewed water and quickly grabbed napkins from her desk drawer to dab at the mess. “Girl, you are so off base. My equal. He’s a minister, and I’m no saint.” She rubbed her forehead. “Can’t figure him out. I asked him why he hasn’t invited me to church. I mean that’s what you would expect from a minister, right?”
“Hmm. You’ve got a point. So what did he say?”
Nicholas’s answer had been so matter-of-fact. “He told me Aunt Tweet had planted the seed in me, and he’s here to water it, but God will shower me with whatever I need to grow.”
“He’s so deep, but I like that.” Jacqui giggled. “No pressure, girl.”
Actually, he was an open book, and Rachel’s mind drifted to a conversation with him about transparency. She hadn’t expected such honesty, which made him even more attractive.
“So, what are some flaws of ministers?” Rachel had asked in a teasing manner, putting aside work she had brought home.
Nicholas didn’t seem offended. “You don’t need me to answer that. There’s breaking news whenever one of them acts contrary to how he should. I can only answer for Nicholas Adams.”
She nodded. “Fair enough, so what’s your vice?”
“Patience. I find myself lacking it at times,” he admitted.
“I would never have guessed that. I’ve never met a more patient man than you, and I admire that.”
He grunted. “My patience was running thin waiting for you to call, and you see how that turned out.” They chuckled together, then he prompted her. “Your turn, Miss Knicely.”
“You probably won’t believe me.”
“Test me,” he urged.
“I’m not as confident as I appear to be,” Rachel confessed, and surprisingly, he didn’t respond as she had expected he would, saying he didn’t believe her. He accepted that she had been honest with him.
That conversation had stayed with her, and by the time she had ended the call with her best friend, Rachel had made up her mind to accept Nicholas’s invitation. She felt she could take him at face value.
Saturday afternoon, she was in a fashion dilemma and had her sisters on Skype, asking them what she should wear.
“This is definitely a first if you need advice from us.” Kym laughed. “Let me mark this on my calendar.”
Tabitha snickered too but brainstormed with her. “Sis, you got this. You’ve always dressed the way you feel, so what mood are you in?”
“Fun, carefree…”
“Ah, no,” her sisters said in unison, shaking their heads.
“Leave the stilettoes and thigh-high dress at home,” Tabitha advised. “Tone it down a little to jeans, blouse, and your hoop earrings. You’ll be fine.”
“O-okay.” Rachel took their advice. “Got to go. Love you.” She sent air kisses and signed off.
A few hours later, when Nicholas arrived, his eyes sparkled, then he smiled. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” He handed her a bouquet. “Fresh flowers.”
She accepted, sniffed them, and walked toward the kitchen for a vase. She glanced over her shoulder. Nicholas stayed rooted at the door of the condo. “Right. I’ll hurry.” She would definitely have to get used to his resistance to being alone with her without a chaperone.
During the twenty-minute drive to Antioch on I-24 westbound, they chatted about family as they passed the airport and other familiar sights.
“As the youngest, I was always the spoiled brat, so tell me about your younger brother. I saw the resemblance at the NFL Draft Experience. You’re a couple shades lighter.” She leaned over and whispered, “For the record, you’re cuter.”
He released a hearty laugh, and Rachel giggled. She liked the sound of him being happy, so she angled her body to admire him and wasn’t disheartened at what she saw. She doubted Nicholas could look ugly on a bad day.
His eyes twinkled when he glanced at her. “You are good for a man’s ego.”
Rachel blushed at his compliment. “Humph. Like you need it.” Her heart warmed that he felt that way.
“Sometimes, a man doesn’t know what he needs,” he murmured, then cleared his throat. “I can see you being a spoiled brat.” He winked. “But as the oldest, I was the example, so I had to show restraint in front of my brother. But when he wasn’t around, I was as mischievous as the next boy.”
“Not Minister Adams,” she teased. “Let me get this straight. You and your brother are ministers, but your parents aren’t involved in the ministry.”
“They support the ministry, but they’re in other positions at the church.”
In no time, they arrived in Antioch, a mixture of old neighborhoods and new developments of big homes, town houses, and condos. Turning off Waterford Way onto a private street with ranch and two-story homes, Rachel immediately felt the charm of a close-knit community where she imagined the residents knew their neighbors and their children.
Nicholas parked in front of a two-story home that was brick on the lower level, including the steps that led to the porch. The dark window shutters matched the color of the door. The property was well kept. Nicholas came around to her s
ide and helped her out. Together, they walked up the driveway, and before they could knock, the door opened.
“Rachel, it’s nice to see you again,” Karl greeted her. “This is my wife, Ava”—he pulled her to his side while two boys nudged an opening between them—“and our twins, Kory and Rory.” Appearing shy, Nicholas’s nephews disappeared from view, but not before she noticed how much they looked like younger versions of Nicholas. Aw, she thought.
Ava’s eyes seemed to smile as she invited Rachel inside. The all-white decor reminded Rachel of her own condo. The only difference was Rachel’s light hardwood floors, as Ava’s were blackish gray. The Adamses’ house was clean and neat, as if two rambunctious boys didn’t reside there.
“Is she your girlfriend?” one of the twins asked their uncle.
“Maybe.” Nicholas looked at Rachel and wiggled his brows. Was he challenging her to confirm or deny his answer? Ha! She wasn’t saying anything on the matter. Their relationship was still too new for her to define.
The boy tilted his head to the side as if to decipher what “maybe” meant.
“Stop asking questions, Rory.” Ava rubbed her son’s curly hair. “The food is hot, so let’s eat.”
Nicholas took Rachel’s wrap and rested it on the back of the sofa until Ava cleared her throat. “Closet, Uncle Nick.”
Rachel snickered. That woman ran a tight ship and was a fellow neat freak. She loved it. Rule number one was always there is a place for everything. No wonder her home was spotless. After doing his sister-in-law’s bidding, Nicholas led Rachel into a room across the foyer.
“Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Rachel played along as the other twin whispered loudly, “I told you that’s his girlfriend. He’s holding her hand.”
Not really, Rachel mused. It was a slight brush against her hand, because her skin tingled. Now she was disappointed that he didn’t take her hand. Surprisingly, Nicholas didn’t defend himself.
“Hey,” Karl protested. “I hold your mother’s hand,” and he quickly grabbed Ava’s.
“But she’s Mommy, not your girlfriend,” the other twin explained.
