Until I Met You

by Tari Faris

  “But you get more excited when you talk about these flowers than I’ve ever seen you when you talk about the landscaping company.” Libby peeked in the basket. Chocolate cake? Oh, he was good.

  He stared at her with a thoughtful expression before he shook his head. “If I don’t run the landscaping business, who will? I have to make it work. For my dad and his dad before him.”

  Libby reached for a grape and popped it into her mouth. She wanted to suggest he talk to Nate about it, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well at this point. If she’d learned anything from today, it was not to get between the brothers.

  fifteen

  Why was he letting this get to him? Nate checked his watch. Fifteen minutes until the service started and he couldn’t even tie his tie. He tugged the knot to the left as he inspected his reflection. Why was he even wearing a tie? He never wore one. He’d hoped that it would distract from the dark circles testifying to his sleepless night. Nope. It just made him look stiff, uncomfortable.

  He pulled the tie loose once again and tossed it onto his desk. He slammed the cabinet hiding the miniature mirror and sank into his office chair.

  Why couldn’t he get the image of Olivia and Jackson at Donny’s last night out of his head? Jackson was a solid guy. He was exactly what Nate had said he wanted for Olivia. Then why did he want to punch the guy in his perfect white teeth? That would cause quite the scene in the Sunday greeting line.

  A knock echoed through the small office space just before Luke’s head popped around the door. “Have time for a long-lost friend?”

  Nate jumped to his feet. “Dude! What are you doing here? Is the baby with you?”

  “No. But the doctor is thinking maybe in a couple more weeks. My parents came to the hospital for the weekend, so I was able to convince Hannah to drive here for the day. Libby has been doing a great job taking care of the place, but there are still a few things we need to do.”

  “It’s good to see you, man.” Nate moved around the desk and hugged Luke.

  “You too.” Luke settled into the chair opposite the desk. “Actually, you look terrible. What’s going on?”

  Another quick knock filled the room just before Libby opened the door. She looked straight at her brother. “I thought I saw you come in. What are you doing here?”

  “Hannah is here too.” Luke stood and hugged Libby. “We thought we might go to lunch with you and Austin, assuming things are . . .”

  “Very good. Yes and yes. I have to teach in the kids’ area, but tell her to come find me.”

  “I will.” Luke dropped back into the chair.

  “And would you talk some sense into this guy?” Libby pointed at Nate as she moved back to the door.

  Luke looked at Nate and then back at Libby. “Nate?”

  “I’m fine.” Nate sank into his chair again.

  Libby crossed her arms. “Your shirt is buttoned crooked.”

  Maybe that was why the tie had looked so off.

  Luke looked between them again. “What’s going on?”

  When Nate didn’t comment, Libby shook her head. “Two words. Olivia and Jackson.”

  Luke’s brow wrinkled. “The guy she dated in high school?”

  She had dated him before? Nate thought he might be sick. Wait, she said she’d never dated anyone.

  Libby shook her head. “They were only friends. And they are only friends. But it might not stay that way if this guy”—she pointed at Nate again—“can’t get his act together.” She checked her watch and then waved. “I gotta go. See you after.”

  Luke looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

  “It’s nothing.” Nate adjusted the buttons on his shirt.

  “Obviously.” Luke settled back and propped his foot on the opposite knee.

  “I’m serious.” Nate stood to check his reflection again. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Because of Olivia and Jackson?”

  “I don’t know.” He finger-combed his hair. That was better. Sort of.

  “Then why do you look like you want to punch something every time Jackson’s name is mentioned?”

  Nate leaned his head back as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I don’t know. She deserves a guy like him. I need to be happy for her.”

  “Wait. Happy for her? I thought you liked her, and I thought she liked you too. I think that means you should fight for her.”

  Nate didn’t comment as he checked the time. He had only ten minutes before he was supposed to go up front. He reached for his Bible.

  “Do you know why I held Hannah at a distance for so long? I thought she deserved someone richer than me. Smarter than me. Well . . . better than me.” Luke stood and leaned on the desk. “You don’t think you deserve Olivia. And you’re right.”

  Nate grabbed his stack of notes. “What?”

  “You don’t deserve someone as great as Olivia, and I don’t deserve someone as great as Hannah, and Hannah would tell you she doesn’t deserve me. But that, my friend, is grace. And grace is a gift.”

  Nate stared at his notes now crumpled in his hand. His sermon topic today: grace. God sure had a sense of humor sometimes.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” Luke checked his phone. “Hannah is looking for me.”

  Nate smoothed out his notes and slipped them into his Bible. Why did he find it easier to accept grace in the form of forgiveness but not grace in the form of a gift like Olivia?

  His alarm on his phone chimed. Time to greet people. He headed to the lobby and plastered on a smile. The sun shone through the front window, lighting the people as they filed in the front door. At least the predicted storm hadn’t arrived yet.

  A large group gathered around the coffee station as young Jimmy grabbed a donut from the table—not his first, judging by the chocolate on his cheek. The praise music that floated from the sanctuary grew in volume, announcing it was almost time.

  A guy wearing an argyle sweater and lime-green pants approached. Nate knew most locals, and this guy looked more New York City than small-town Heritage.

  He extended his hand. “Welcome. Is this your first time? I’m Pastor Nate.”

  The guy’s brows lifted as he stared at the tribal tattoo peeking out of Nate’s collar. “Randy. I’m just visiting.”

  Movement at the main door snagged his attention. Olivia and Mr. Perfect himself, Jackson. Her blonde hair fell in curls around her face, and her dress hung from her shoulders down below her knees, showing off her athletic curves. She was gorgeous. Her eyes landed on him for a minute and then flicked away. He didn’t deserve her, but could he accept her love as a gift?

  Nate turned back to Randy, but the guy was already moving to his seat while jotting notes in a blue notebook. Okay, then. He’d botched that welcome. He made his way to the front of the church.

  Olivia sat next to Jackson in the third row. He leaned over and said something in her ear, and she laughed. She leaned over and wrote something on his paper, her hair falling over his arm. Jackson smiled as if he’d won the lottery. Could the morning get any more difficult?

  The worship band took the stage and Nate closed his eyes, trying to shut everything else out. Halfway through the first song, a calm settled over him. God had been with him every Sunday. He would be with him today. Even if he had to face Olivia and Jackson together.

  He lifted his head just as the back doors opened once more and Austin walked in. He slid into the last pew and locked eyes with Nate.

  Nate had wanted this. Prayed for this. But by the look on his brother’s face, he was here waiting to roast him alive. The peace Nate had found evaporated again.

  Grace. This topic was looking less and less attractive by the minute.

  Nate was a better speaker than Austin had given him credit for. His brother knew his Bible. And he had a way of making it understandable. Austin might consider attending a church like this if . . . well, if Nate wasn’t Nate.

  He’d hoped to sit with Libby, but she w
as volunteering with the kids. Nate had paled when their eyes met, and Austin had softened his features after that. He wasn’t here to heckle his brother, just understand him.

  The building had been pretty close to what Austin expected. A touch of history with its stained-glass windows in front and along the side walls, and modern thrown in with two projection screens up front. The pews were well-worn, smooth wood. The kind he and Nate had loved to slide across as kids.

  Austin lounged back in the pew as the rest of the congregation filed out—many stopping to shake his brother’s hand. People loved Nate. That had always been true. And he seemed to be making a difference here in the town.

  Why did their dad care if Austin forgave Nate or not? Why couldn’t the two brothers just go their own ways? People lived estranged all the time. He didn’t need to forgive him.

  Unforgiveness breeds anger and bitterness that spill all over those close to you.

  But he’d been angry at Nate for so long, he wasn’t sure he could let it go if he wanted to.

  Olivia stood a few rows up with Jackson as the guy shook hand after hand. People seemed to love him almost as much as they loved Nate. Olivia’s eyes had darted to Nate repeatedly as she waited, but he hadn’t given her more than a glance. Austin would never understand his brother.

  Jackson placed his hand on Olivia’s back and guided her toward the door. Olivia hesitated only a moment before following him out.

  A guy who’d been scribbling notes in a blue notepad since the end of the sermon stood and smirked all the way up the aisle. Austin blinked at his pants. Lime green. That was a bold fashion statement for this town. But the guy seemed to wear them with confidence.

  Austin’s phone vibrated and he lifted it to read Libby’s text.

  Rough day in the kids’ area. Going home to change clothes. Luke and Hannah want to take us to lunch. Meet at my house.

  He tapped out that he’d be there and dropped the phone back in his pocket as Nate slid into the pew next to him. “What did you think?”

  Austin took in the old stained glass above the pulpit depicting an empty tomb. “Pastoring suits you.”

  “Thanks. What made you decide to come today?”

  “Dad.” He leaned his elbows on the pew in front of him. “He told me it was time to forgive you.”

  “But you disagree.”

  Austin maneuvered to the aisle. The sanctuary was empty now. “I don’t think you deserve it. But you don’t think you deserve it either, so I’m not sure why we’re at an impasse here. Do you want me to forgive you to make Dad feel better? I don’t think it’ll stop you from living a life of penance.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nate stood and followed him down the aisle. The back door had been shut, but he still kept his voice low.

  Austin shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why did you become a pastor?”

  “What?”

  “Are you trying to make up for your past?”

  “I can’t make up for my past.” Nate’s response was quick and automatic. “Besides, my past is forgiven.”

  “Do you believe that? Because you’re as hung up on your past mistakes as I am. Only I can’t decide who you’re trying to earn forgiveness from. Me? Dad? God?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nate’s hand gripped his Bible.

  “No? Then why did you go to the board and beg them to give our family the contract? You knew we were inches from bankruptcy, and it’d take a Hail Mary pass like this job for any hope of pulling us out of the red. Well, guess what? It still might not be enough.”

  Nate spun back and took two big steps toward Austin. “I didn’t beg.”

  “No, you just promised them conditions that no sensible company would have agreed to. I didn’t even have the budget for a full crew.”

  “I tried to help more.” Nate poked at his own chest.

  Austin stalked toward the door but paced back. “I used to think you flaked on helping with the family because you were lazy. Now I find out that you did it because you’re working yourself into the ground. You’re working full-time here, part-time with me at the square, and part-time at Dad’s facility to help cover his bill. We haven’t even touched on the volunteering you do at the shelter, sports teams, and fire department.”

  “How did you find out about—”

  “Dad’s facility?” Austin shook his head. “Does it matter?” When Nate didn’t comment, Austin took another step toward him. “Someone reminded me recently that forgiveness isn’t deserved. It’s a gift. Grace. I came here today to see if I could forgive you.”

  “And?” Nate met his eyes.

  “For someone who preaches grace and forgiveness up there”—Austin motioned to the pulpit—“you seem to be more of a faith-by-works kind of guy with a savior complex thrown on top.”

  “Whatever.” Nate made a face and started to turn away.

  “You don’t believe me? Save the business, save Dad, and let’s not forget that you want to save Olivia.”

  Nate marched toward the front. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You weren’t the only one raised in the church, little brother.” Austin raised his voice across the distance. “Just because I don’t have some dark, sinful past doesn’t make me less saved than you. And just because I don’t have a seminary degree doesn’t mean I can’t read the Bible.”

  Nate pointed at Austin. “I’ve never said that.”

  Austin took a cooling breath as he rubbed his forehead. This conversation wasn’t getting them anywhere. He dropped his hand and raised his head. “I guess I always felt that if I forgave you, then no one would hold you accountable for the mess you left. But it seems I was wrong. It turns out that you seem bent on beating yourself up for both of us. So, consider yourself forgiven. Not that it will keep you from punishing yourself.” He waved his hand toward his brother and headed toward the back door. “Now you can tell Dad I’ve forgiven you and check that off your list of things to fix.”

  “That’s it?” Nate’s angry voice chased him down the aisle.

  Austin shrugged. “Not all brothers are close.”

  He pushed out of the sanctuary, ignoring Nate’s voice calling him back. The door rattled to his left, and he caught a blur of lime-green pants as they disappeared down the sidewalk. He’d assumed the church was long empty or he’d not have raised his voice quite so much. He shook off the conversation and hurried toward the car. Time for a relaxing afternoon with Libby.

  Two showers in three hours. Libby ran a comb through her wet hair and prayed again that she wouldn’t catch the stomach bug that had landed in her lap. Literally. The poor kid had been playing in Sunday school one second and emptying his stomach the next.

  Libby gathered her clothes, took them to the laundry room, and dropped them in the washer. She added a fair amount of soap to be sure and then turned the water to hot. She walked to the kitchen sink and washed her hands one more time. The lemony scent filled the room and erased a bit of the foul odor that seemed to cling to her.

  She lifted the vase that held the single rose Austin had given her last night. She held it to her nose, letting the sweet scent surround her, then added a little more fresh water and returned it to the windowsill. She pushed aside the lace curtains, but there was still no sign of Austin. A red Mustang was parked at the curb in front of Austin’s house. Who was that?

  Her phone chimed and she grabbed it.

  Austin

  I’ll be there in five.

  Before she could even reply, the doorbell echoed through the house. Libby reached for the dogs on instinct but stopped. Hannah had taken them to her yard just after church.

  Libby pulled open the door to a man in bright green pants and an argyle sweater. Must be the Mustang owner. She paused with one hand on the door. “Can I help you?”

  “Hello, I’m Randy Kruger. I’m doing a follow-up story on the square and wanted to ask you a few questions.” He pulled out a blue notebook and pe
n from his bag. “Do you have a moment?” He waved his notepad at her.

  “Oh, of course.” Libby motioned to the wicker chairs on the porch.

  “Thank you.” The man flipped to a clean page and settled into the chair. “You were hired to be the librarian, is that correct?”

  “Yes.” Libby pushed her damp hair behind her shoulders. She really should have taken time to reapply her makeup and straighten her hair. At least the guy didn’t have a camera.

  He made a note, then pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Originally the library wasn’t a part of the plans for the square. Whose idea was it to add it?”

  “Mine. I saw the one-room schoolhouse at the edge of town and knew it was a perfect fit.”

  His brows lifted a bit as his pen scribbled words across the page. “So, you designed the square.”

  “No. Austin is the architect for the square. I just had the idea to add the library.” Libby shoved her hands under her legs to keep from fidgeting.

  “But that is the main change to the square.” He tapped his pen against the paper and looked at her. “Didn’t Williams and Son Landscaping have a plan finalized when they bid the contract?”

  “There was a plan, but the town wanted changes. They had wanted a fountain, and I helped convince them that wasn’t a wise use of money.”

  “So, you did decide the layout of most of the square?”

  “No. I just offered ideas. Austin made it happen. You should interview him.” She grabbed her phone and checked the time. Where was he?

  “Are you aware that Williams and Son Landscaping is almost bankrupt?”

  “What?” Libby snapped her attention back to the man. She knew that Williams and Son was struggling, but bankrupt?

  He charged on as if her answer didn’t matter. “Do you feel that other landscape companies should have been considered?”

  Was this an interview or was she on trial? “Austin is doing a great job.”

  “With your help. Wouldn’t a landscape company with more expertise in building relocation, not to mention located closer to Heritage, have been a better choice?”