"It's really important you don't try to go from this place on your own. You need to have other believers supporting you, helping you understand. Do you have a Bible?"
"Somewhere, yes." Renata had once gifted all her sisters with a Bible. Juliette thought it might be out in a box of books in her garage.
"Read Hosea chapter six, verses one through three. Just those three verses for now. Ask God to show you something in them, something just for you. He will. He'll meet you in those verses." Trevor helped her to her feet. "Do you want me to write that down?"
"I'll remember." She hadn't been able to get the story of the prophet out of her mind for the last twenty-four hours. She tucked back a few strands of hair that had come loose from the braid and looked up at Trevor. "I don't know quite what to say now. I've never had a date end like this before."
"Ah!" Trevor grabbed her shoulders and brought her close in a fierce hug. "Remember what I said? This wasn't a date. It was a divine appointment! How much bigger can you get than redemption and hope and salvation? Yes!" He whooped loudly, and she put out a hand to shush him.
"My neighbor is going to call the cops," she giggled.
"It'll just be Vic. He'll cover for us." Officer Jarrett's name threw a damper on things.
Trevor slid his hands down her arms until he held both her hands in his, and dipped his head to meet her eyes, his tone suddenly still and serious. "Hey. I don't know what that was all about; Vic's little visit. I've never seen him be intentionally rude before. I'll apologize for him because I know him, and that was totally out of character for him." He frowned, more to himself than to her, obviously concerned for both Juliette and his friend. "But I don't want his behavior to mess with your head, especially tonight. That's how the devil works; he likes to wander into the middle of things and throw cold water on the fire of the Holy Spirit, and he'll use whatever he can to do it, even the good guys if they're all he's got available to him. And I can assure you," he squeezed her hands to emphasize his words. "Victor Jarrett is one of the good guys. Apparently, it was a bad night for him, but that doesn't mean it has to be a bad night for you, okay?" He waited for her nod, then dropped her hands and picked up the coffee tray.
"Now, I'm going to brave the house because I need to use your bathroom." His tone was again light, teasing. "Can I trust you not to take advantage of me once I step inside your lady-lair?"
"I'll try to restrain myself. In fact, I'll wait outside for you," she promised, his words making her smile. "It's the first door on the right down the hall. You can't miss it."
She sat back down on the top step, toying with one of the boot buckles. She eyed the bike, and sighed as she thought again of how alive she'd felt sitting behind Trevor, giving him full control, trusting him—quite literally—with her life. That's what God wanted too, for her to trust Him with her life. No, it wasn't safe, and it wasn't going to be easy, as Trevor had said. But the freedom that came from leaning with, instead of against, of keeping her feet up and out of the way, it all made sense to her on a much deeper level now. She giggled at the thought of Jesus pulling up on a Harley and asking her to ride with Him.
Then she remembered how loud the bike was. She'd hear about it in the morning, she was sure. Yappy-dog would come out, and Mrs. Cork would ignore its activity while she complained aloud to herself about noisy neighbors. Then she'd scoop up her dog and go back inside, leaving the little brown pile behind.
"Grrr." Juliette grumbled.
"Are you growling?" Trevor asked from behind her, startling her.
"Can you just pretend you didn't hear that?" Juliette peered up at him from the corner of her eye. She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up.
"Of course," he laughed. Then he brought her fingers to his lips, and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. "Farewell, Miss Juliette. Thank you for the lovely evening." He released her hand, loaded her arms with the four cushions they'd used, then said, "Remember: He sought you out tonight, and you were paid for. In full. Now it's all about learning to live in the freedom of His love. Don't give up."
"I won't," she assured him.
He took the three steps down to the sidewalk. "And don't believe the devil when he whispers to you that it isn't real, or that it didn't happen, or that it's not worth it. He'll try to convince you. He'll work every angle he's got. That's why it's so important to plug in right away, you understand? Call your friend. Don't put it off."
"I won't," she said again.
Halfway down the walk he turned around and repeated what he'd said earlier. "I know he acted like a jerk, but Vic really is a good guy. I'd trust him with my life. If you ever need anything, he's the man to call."
"I won't." This time she only muttered the words under her breath, smiling beatifically.
Juliette shuddered at the thought of intentionally facing Officer Jarrett again. His unkind treatment tonight had really hurt, and she didn't think she could handle any more of his aggression. She was far too vulnerable these days.
Trevor's bike rumbled to life, and she watched until he disappeared around the corner. When she could no longer hear him, she went inside and closed the door.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TREVOR DIDN'T WAIT until the next day, but came straight from Juliette's place, banging on the door until Victor got out of bed and let him in.
"Do you want to tell me what that was all about?" There was no apology for the late hour; he simply walked in, dropped to the sofa, and started demanding answers.
"Maybe you should tell me," Victor replied, not bothering to turn on any lights. He was not in a hospitable mood. "Do you know anything about her?"
"I took her out to dinner and a ride. Yeah, I know something about her."
"How did you hook up with her? Are you seeing her now?" Victor's blood began to boil at the thought, and his scalp tingled.
"What's this all about? You're acting like I'm doing something I shouldn't." Trevor leaned forward and set his helmet on the floor between his feet. He indicated the chair on the other side of the coffee table. "You're pacing, man. Sit down and talk to me."
Victor glared at him for several seconds before sitting. For the last several hours, he'd been tormented by thoughts of what was going on at Juliette Gustafson's home. He'd returned to the station, documented that the call was just a disgruntled neighbor, and clocked out, all under the watchful and curious eye of Sarah. He knew she was dying to ask questions, but he didn't give her the opportunity; he was too full of questions himself, and in short supply of answers.
When he got home, he headed straight for the shower, hoping to wash away some of his confusion. By the time he went to bed, however, he was even more unsettled. If he closed his eyes, he saw her; sashaying down the sidewalk in her clever jeans, peeking shyly up at him with those luminous eyes, then turning them adoringly on Trevor, as she called him 'amazing.' He punched his pillow; he could feel every lump.
None of it made sense. Trevor Zander, of all people, out with a girl like that in the middle of the night? Call-girl or not, she was obviously pretty wild in those ridiculous boots of hers. Victor didn't know what bothered him more, the surprise of finding his friend there, or the familiarity between them.
He wasn't even close to being sleepy when Trevor showed up, but that didn't mean he felt like talking to the guy. Here he sat, though, in the shadows cast through the windows by the streetlights outside, waiting for explanations.
"You don't date randomly, not unless you seriously want to pursue someone. Isn't that your rule?"
"You don't have to tell me my own rules."
"Then what were you doing with her?"
"Maybe I'm pursuing her. What's the problem?"
"What do you know about her?" Victor asked again.
"Why, Vic? Is there something you think I should know?"
"How did you meet her?"
"Her name is Juliette. And why are you answering my questions with questions?"
"I know her name," Victor growled, standing up and c
rossing to the window.
"Dude, this is the most worked up I've seen you in a long time. You want to tell me what this is all about?" It was the third time Trevor had asked the question.
Victor spun around and ground out between clenched teeth, "You want to know why I showed up tonight?" He scrubbed his hands through his hair as he tried to get a grip on his frustration. "I got a complaint about her, that she's involved in some seedy stuff. Having to do with men." Why couldn't he just say it? "Can you imagine my surprise when I pulled up and you were the man she was with?"
"What exactly are you implying?" Trevor's voice had a new and dangerous edge to it.
"If the rumors and complaints are true—and I'm going to be doing a little research on your Ms. Gustafson—you just spent your evening with a call-girl, my friend. Or even worse, the kind of girl who gives it away for free."
Now Trevor was on his feet. "Watch yourself, man."
They stood facing each other across the room, feet firmly planted, and Victor was momentarily swept up in the out-of-time-feeling of an old western gun fight. His trigger finger even twitched.
Finally, Trevor spoke again. He didn't sit. "You're wrong about her, Vic. And you do her a serious injustice with your accusations. You're acting like a blind fool. I don't know what's gotten into you, but whatever it is, it's got you by the throat." He leaned over and picked up his gear. "I suggest you take it up with the King. Ask Him about her. Juliette's wild, but not in that way."
He crossed the room and put a hand on Victor's shoulder. "Father, Your son needs Your peace tonight. Give him discernment. Open his eyes with Your wisdom. Amen."
Victor had tried praying tonight, demanding that God let him sleep, but his prayers seemed to bounce off the ceiling. Trevor's words, on the other hand, crashed through the plaster above them, and Victor sensed the sought-after peace pouring down, washing over him. His shoulders relaxed as he realized God had just answered him; He'd heard his prayers through the plaster after-all, and sent his friend to put him in his place.
Even after Trevor's visit, however, Victor couldn't get Juliette Gustafson off his mind. He realized how ridiculous the whole call-girl thing was, but an urgent curiosity about who she was still poked and prodded, and he felt compelled to find out.
Thank goodness she lived on his beat; driving past her house at all hours bordered on stalking, but he had the law on his side, and he was going to use it until he managed to clear his head about the whole thing.
FOR THE FIRST TIME since she'd taken her university job, Juliette called off work for no reason except that she needed a day off. Whatever showed up in her inbox could either wait a day, or—novel idea—the professors could learn how to use the copy machine themselves. Preferably without breaking it.
Today, all she wanted to do was revel in her divine appointment—not date—with Trevor Zander—not Mick Jagger. If a certain cop happened to wander into her thoughts the way he'd wandered onto the scene last night, well, maybe she would see things a little clearer in the light of day. Maybe she'd figure out what had turned him so sour.
Her first order of business was to uncover that Bible. She found it in the second box she unpacked, brought it inside, wiped the cover down with a damp paper towel, and quickly gave up trying to locate Trevor's verses just by flipping through the pages. Even with the table of contents, finding Hosea was a challenge. It was a short book, stuck in the middle of a lot of other oddly-named short books, and she wasn't accustomed to the thin, crinkly pages that kept the Bible from being a tome.
"Come, let us return to the Lord," she read aloud the first three verses of chapter six, listening to the cadence of the words. Holy poetry, she thought to herself. "For He has torn us, but He will heal us; He has wounded us, but He will bandage us."
"That's me, God," she closed her eyes and whispered, "Will You heal me? Will You bandage me? I'm so tired of being torn and wounded."
She continued reading. "He will revive us after two days; He will raise us up on the third day, that we may live before Him. So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth."
The words fell on her like rain, watering the parched soil of her heart. She read the verses again, then tried to read on, but the passage got confusing really quickly, so she returned to those three, short, but over-flowing verses. Everything her heart needed was in those words. Again and again she read them until she knew the words by heart.
When the phone rang a few minutes after eight, Juliette laughed to see Sharon's name pop up on her screen. "What's wrong, Juju?" No greeting, no polite phone etiquette. No games. She loved being Sharon's friend.
"You know Trevor Zander, the musician from Sunday night?"
"I took you, remember?"
It all sounded a little fantastic, even to her own ears, and she was the one who'd experienced it, but by the time she finished relaying her Monday ManDate adventure, Sharon was in tears.
"I'm crying like a blithering idiot, and I'm at work, Juliette Gustafson! How could you do this to me?" But she was ecstatic and wanted to know every detail of the night. "Imagine! Trevor Zander! Are you going to see him again?"
"That's the weirdest part. We didn't click. I mean, he's an amazing guy. Perfect in every way. Seriously. Like, the ultimate perfect guy. But that zing just wasn't there." Juliette forced herself not to think of Victor Jarrett's hand around hers.
"Makes sense to me. That's probably why you were finally able to really hear God's voice; because there were no emotional entanglements between you and Trevor, you know?" Sharon continued, her voice filled with excitement. "Isn't it crazy? God used something as ridiculous as the Monday ManDates to reach you. Think about it, Juju. All this stuff with Mike, and the bad dates with the other guys, it was all leading to last night. Trevor showed up with his shameless passion for Christ, and you were already primed from his concert the night before. Wow. Just wow."
"Oh, Sharon," Juliette sighed. "It was just like you said; like a skylight bursting open. Suddenly, I could see things from a whole new perspective."
"So how do you feel today?"
"I feel incredible. I feel light-headed. I feel scared. I know I have a lot of work to do. I have a few people to deal with, and Mike is one of them. I've got a lot of anger and bitterness in me over what he's done right now, and thinking about letting that jerk off the hook makes me a little sick. I kinda liked holding on to the anger, so it's going to be tough to give it all up."
"Good girl. How can I help?" Sharon was still sniffling, but Juliette could hear the excitement in her voice.
"You can pray for me."
"Of course."
She got up to pour herself another cup of coffee and headed out to sit on the front porch steps in an effort to recapture some of the euphoria of the night before. "I need to learn to forgive people, Sharon. Now that the walls are being torn down, it seems there's a whole roomful of folks who've been trapped inside the dungeon of my little, shriveled heart, just waiting to be forgiven and set free."
They talked for a while longer before Sharon had to get back to work. "Oh! What about the Monday ManDates?" Sharon asked.
"I'm done. And now I have a good reason, thanks to Trevor."
"What are you going to tell your sisters?"
"I don't know. Maybe that I've found true love, and no one on their silly little list could ever compare to Him."
"That'll go over well." Sharon's sarcasm did not go unnoticed.
"I know. But I also know I can't do it any longer. Just pray they understand."
Sharon giggled.
"What are you laughing about?"
"You just asked me to pray for you, not once, but twice, in the same conversation."
"Don't gloat, Mrs. Scoville. It's not what Jesus would do."
When the phone rang later that morning, and she saw it was Renata, she let it go to voice mail. Around noon, when Phoebe called, she
let it go to voice mail, too. When Gia called right as Juliette was sitting down to a light supper and a glass of orange juice, she didn't answer the phone either. But she did text them all at that point, letting them know that Monday night had been the greatest night of her life, and if they wanted details, they'd have to join her for a G-FOURce on Thursday evening, 6 o'clock, her place.
Dinner will be served, she added.
Needless to say, she got three texts right back. Two of them were short, congratulatory, and anticipatory. The third one, in all caps, just said, "WHAT HAPPENED? CALL ME RIGHT NOW!"
She didn't. Nor did she answer the phone when Renata called an hour later, and twice more before bed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RENATA SHOWED UP A half an hour early, just as Juliette knew she would. Juliette only smiled and told her she'd have to wait to hear about Taz, but she could go to The Green Dragon with her to pick up dinner.
"This whole thing was my idea," Renata berated. "You owe me something."
"Not going to happen, Rennie. Hot mustard?" Juliette grabbed a handful of packaged condiments and dropped them in the box of Chinese food. "This stuff smells so good, doesn't it? Thank you, Mr. Chen Yu!" She hollered over her shoulder and waved at the proprietor, who beamed and waved back.
Juliette was not going to let her sister's pouting get to her. She just grinned, and put an arm around Renata, who was carrying the box of food.
"Careful!" Renata exclaimed, but a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Oh, dear. You've got it bad, haven't you?"
Juliette just nodded. Let her meddling sister think she was in love. They'd all know the truth by the time the G-FOURce was over.
When they got back to the condo, both Phoebe and Gia were sitting together on the front porch, an open box of cookies from Granny G between them.
"Hey! Don't eat those now," Renata scolded, playing right into their hands.
Phoebe shoved a whole cookie into her mouth and stared belligerently up at them as they approached. "Mwhasha gah air?"
Juliette and the Monday ManDates Page 11
