by Liwen Y. Ho
Lucas stood speechless as he examined her living room. The space was small, but all the furniture appeared modern and new. To his right sat an oversized zebra print upholstered chair in the shape of a high heel shoe. A large LCD screen TV took up one wall and a furry white rug lay in the middle of the hardwood floor. Despite some magazines, food wrappers and mugs scattered on the coffee table, the room resembled the cover of a furniture store catalogue. A very expensive store that someone needing a ten thousand dollar loan shouldn’t be able to afford. “Nice place.”
Sam brightened for a moment. “Thanks. I had fun decorating it.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“About five years. I moved in when I got back from Paris.”
“And the furniture? When did you get them?”
She lifted her swollen foot onto the couch and placed it on top of a pillow with a black and white photo of the Eiffel Tower. “What is this, an inquisition?”
“I’m curious how you were able to afford such nice things,” Lucas shrugged. “This sure doesn’t look like the home of a struggling business owner.” He knew he would likely regret his next statement, but he said it anyway. “So, how many rich, old men did you have to kiss to pay for all this?”
Sam’s face turned a bright crimson shade that matched the sofa. “Get out. Now.”
Lucas had never stared down the barrel of a gun before, but he imagined that scenario would be less intimidating than the one he was in now. He quickly came to his senses and left the apartment—and Sam’s line of fire.
Chapter 8
“Can I ring it, Daddy?”
“Sure, go ahead. Just once.”
Lucy gingerly placed her index finger on the doorbell and pressed it. Her hazel eyes widened in delight when the sound of knocking and a comedic male voice calling out, Hey, there’s someone at the door! followed. “Can I do it again? Please?”
The door opened before Lucas could answer. Sam stood with one hand supporting her weight against the doorframe and her left foot off the floor. Like the previous time he’d seen her, her hair was down, but today she wore a sleeveless light pink pants suit. The outfit showed off her figure well, but in a conservative way. His eyes met hers and he attempted a sheepish smile. “Hey, Sammie.”
“Hi, Luce!” Ignoring Lucas with obvious disdain, Sam gave Lucy a hug. “I bet you want to ring the doorbell again. Benji and Ellie do it at least five times each when they come over. Go ahead.”
Lucas raised his voice to speak over the door chime. “I brought you some coffee. I know it’s pretty early for you. Thanks again for being willing to come watch Lucy sing. We’ll go back to my place right after the service to get your car.”
“Thanks,” Sam conceded as she took the cup. She locked the door and turned to Lucy. “Ready to go?”
Lucy nodded and offered Sam her hand. “Daddy said you hurt your foot. You can hold my hand.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you, girlie. Thank you.”
“Ladies first.” Lucas let the two of them take the lead while he walked a few steps behind.
Lucy tilted her head, then gave a high-pitched giggle in response to something Sam said. Lucas couldn’t help but tear up at the sweet picture before him. This was how life was supposed to be. A typical Sunday once included church with his wife and daughter and lunch afterward at their favorite brunch place. All that had changed though; he could never have those days back. But for a minute, he pretended he was there again. His steps slowed as he closed his eyes to savor the memory. When he opened them, he saw Lucy waving.
“Daddy, you’re so slow! Hurry up!”
He met them at the car and opened the passenger door for Sam. He helped Lucy into the back of the SUV and buckled her into her car seat. Before he opened the driver’s door, he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. He got in and started the engine without a word.
“You okay?”
The concern in Sam’s voice caught him off guard. It was the first friendly sign she had offered him since Friday. After sending his phone calls directly to voicemail all day yesterday, she finally responded when Lucy left her a message this morning. He was certain she had only agreed to meet for his daughter’s sake and also to get her car back. If there was any other reason, it was so she could use his face for target practice. After his hurtful accusation the other night, she had every right to be upset. “Yeah. How about you? How’s your ankle doing?”
“It’s fine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas could see her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even though she spoke in an even and quiet voice, her words dripped with contempt. It was not going to be easy to get back in her good graces. He drove for a while in silence, racking his brain for something to talk about. “I see you found a pair of, uh, flat shoes to wear.”
She pressed her pink lips together and appeared engrossed in inspecting her purple painted fingernails.
He attempted to inject some humor into the situation. “Speaking of shoes, do you want to hear a joke?” Ignoring her indifference, he continued, “What do you call a shoe that looks like a banana?”
Turning toward him, she raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow.
“A slipper! Get it? Banana peels … slippers?”
Sam groaned. “Don’t give up your day job.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“Like it? If that was your sorry attempt at making up, you should work on your act.”
“But,” he answered with ease, “it got you to talk to me.”
* * *
Sam turned away before that smile of his could affect her. He was not getting off the hook that easily. She still couldn’t believe he had accused her of using men to get what she wanted. What kind of person did he think she was? Even if there was a shred of truth to it, he couldn’t judge her.
“Come on, Sammie, I said I was sorry. You have my voicemails and texts as proof. What else do you want me to do?”
Sam stared straight ahead. “For starters, you could sound more sincere.”
“You’re being unreasonable. So I said something stu—” He glanced in the rear view mirror and lowered his voice. “Foolish,” he continued. “But you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. Can we move on?”
“Not until you realize how wrong you were.”
Lucas grimaced and blew out a long breath. “Let’s not get into it now. We’re here.” He turned into the parking lot of a high school that had a large sign stating Welcome to Gracepoint Church at the entrance. Pulling into an empty space, he asserted, “This isn’t the time or place to argue.”
“Whatever.”
Sam exited the van while Lucas helped Lucy out.
They walked across the lot with Lucy holding their hands and acting as a buffer between them. If the little girl felt the unspoken tension, she didn’t let on. She alternated between walking and skipping as she looked up at one adult to the other.
A family with two young kids walking from the other side of the parking lot waved at them. Sam frowned when Lucas pasted on a smile and waved back. To an outsider they probably looked like a young, happy family. If only people knew the truth.
They soon reached a large room with many children playing inside. Lucas greeted the Sunday school teacher, then hugged Lucy goodbye. “We’ll look for you on stage, sweetheart. Do your best.”
“Daddy, you’re ’posed to say break a leg.”
“Miss Sam already has a sprained ankle. You want to hurt your leg, too?”
“Daddy,” Lucy reiterated with a serious expression.
“I’m striking out all over the place today, aren’t I?”
Rolling her eyes, Sam gave Lucy a hug. “Break a leg, Luce. You’re going to do great.”
“Yes, break a leg, but not really, okay?” Lucas gave his daughter a kiss on the head and turned to leave.
Not knowing where to go, Sam had no choice but to walk with him. With each step, her anger bubbled inside her. How could he not see how unreasonable h
e was being? She wasn’t going to let go of the issue until she had her say. Now that Lucy wasn’t around, she felt free to talk. More specifically, to fight. “Some Christian you are.”
Stopping in his tracks, Lucas faced her. “What did you say?”
“You’re such a hypocrite. You act like you’re so good and can do no wrong. But inside, you’re as judgmental as they come. What happened to looking at the stick in your own eye first?”
“You mean the plank.”
“Stop correcting me; you know what I mean. Who made you Mr. High and Mighty? You don’t have the right to judge me. Only God can do that.” As far as she was concerned, that was already more than she could handle.
“Lower your voice.” Lucas looked around them. “Can’t we talk about this later? We’re at church. People are going to think something’s wrong.”
“So what if they do? Is that going to ruin your perfect reputation?”
“I’m a police officer. I need to set a good example.”
“And being a good example means looking down on people who do things differently than you? Judging them by their choices?”
“It’s part of my job, so yes.”
“Oh, you were like this way before you got your fancy badge and uniform. You were always judging me and pointing out what I did wrong. You still do. You’re critical of everything I do.” Sam finished with the question weighing on her heart the most, “Do you think I’m that horrible of a person?”
Lucas appeared taken aback by her question. His eyes darkened and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “You want to know the truth?”
“Yes.”
“The truth is you make bad decisions. You do reckless things, you’re temperamental, irresponsible with money, and you go around flirting with every guy you meet. I don’t understand the things you do. I don’t know if I can trust you.” He threw up his hands. “The bottom line is you drive me crazy.”
“Wow, try not to hold anything back.”
“You asked for the truth. I’m only telling you because you asked.”
“You didn’t say anything I didn’t know already.” Blinking back tears, Sam took a deep breath to calm herself. “I get it. I wasn’t good enough for you in high school and I’m not good enough for you now. I’m leaving. Tell Lucy sorry.” She turned and walked away.
“Sam!”
Ouch. Hearing the truth from Lucas hurt more than she expected. Her eyes burned and the tears began to fall. She quickly ducked into the closest women’s bathroom and locked herself in a stall.
“Sammie? Please come out.”
After a few minutes, she heard the sound of footsteps fading into the distance, and all was quiet. Blotting her eyes with some toilet paper, she walked out to the sink area and stood before the wide mirror. How ironic. Here she was in the same situation she had been in high school. It was a different place, but the same guy and the same rejection. And it hurt more than she remembered.
Because Lucas was right.
Since the first time he rejected her, so much had happened. She had made some bad choices and done things she never thought she would sink to doing. The affair with Jacques being the worst choice of all.
She sighed. She screwed up big time and she was still facing the consequences of her actions. But she was her own worst judge; she didn’t need Lucas judging her, too.
She threw away her crumpled tissue and limped outside. At a planter near the auditorium, she sat down to call a taxi. As she began dialing, her ears perked up at the sound of voices singing in unison. Curious, she walked to the auditorium doors and poked her head into the darkened room. An older man gestured for her to follow him.
Sam sat down on a metal folding chair and looked around, surprised by the casual, yet warm, atmosphere of the place. It was certainly different from the Chinese church her family had been attending since they immigrated from Hong Kong two decades ago. People of all ethnicities and ages filled the seats around her. A young woman to her right greeted her with a smile.
The choir continued singing a medley of songs, some of which Sam remembered from her own childhood. She had never been much of a singer, but music had a way of touching her, much like art did. She inhaled and exhaled deeply as the pure voices filled the auditorium. The familiar melodies stirred up something inside her, and she felt a profound sense of peace flood her heart. What is going on? She snuck a peek around the room. Am I the only one who’s feeling this? The lyrics comforted her as well. Reminders of forgiveness and acceptance and grace. They were words she had heard and even sung before, but today they touched her more personally than before. Raising her eyes upward, she spoke her first genuine prayer in years. God, is that You?
Church was the last place she expected to feel so deeply. The only times she ever experienced such a sense of freedom was when she was painting. And the last time she had picked up a paintbrush with this kind of peace was on a different continent. She had given up on ever doing what she loved again. Channeling all her time and resources into the studio had become her last connection to art. But here she was in a place that smelled like old gym socks and feeling oddly inspired to paint again. It had to be God.
The choir finished singing and the middle-aged pastor took to the pulpit. Sam had never listened to a sermon as closely as she did that morning. One verse in particular stood out. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. She knew about sins, for sure, but not much about love. But the way the pastor explained it made so much sense. Because of sin, she had been hiding from God, but she was in fact hiding from Love itself. Love that covered over every wrong she had done and would ever do. It was almost too much for her to comprehend.
Sam didn’t realize the woman beside her was holding a tissue out until she dropped it in her lap. She quietly mumbled, “Thanks,” and dabbed at her wet cheeks. Black streaks stained the tissue, confirming the fact that her favorite mascara wasn’t as waterproof as advertised. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She felt good enough. She knew she was loved just the way she was.
“Good message, huh?” the woman whispered.
Sam nodded. “It’s just what I needed to hear.”
She felt stronger and more confident than ever. There was still hope that she could turn things around. She could hope because God hadn’t given up on her yet.
Chapter 9
Lucas stopped in front of the large window and took a deep breath. He hoped he didn’t look as tired as he felt, but his reflection showed otherwise. Weeks of sleepless nights had taken their toll, leaving dark circles under his eyes.
A month had passed since his and Sam’s blow-up at church. She wouldn’t answer his phone calls, and the one time he had shown up at the studio, the pink-haired assistant whom she had rehired told him she was unavailable. To top it off, Sam had given his mother-in-law a ten-thousand-dollar cashier’s check two weeks ago to pass along to him, a sign that their partnership was over. And so was any semblance of a relationship or even friendship.
Lucy still attended painting classes once a week, and he relied on her updates to know how Sam was doing. But a four-year-old’s reports only told him so much. He could care less that Miss Sam had dyed her hair lavender or that she was back to wearing heels again. The latter was good news, of course, but it didn’t give him a clue as to where he stood with her.
To make matters worse, his mother-in-law kept dropping hints about Sam going out with the neighbor’s son, Greg. Or was it George? Whatever his name was, he was far too boring for Sam. Surely, she realized that.
His only consolation was two postcards he received in the mail last week. One found its home on the refrigerator door; the other motivated him to get a haircut yesterday. The latter one read You are invited to Junior Picasso’s Art Show and gave him the opportunity he had been looking for. He would finally get to see Sam today.
He had gone on his daily run, showered and dressed, and stopped for coffee on his way to the studio. Right now, his ey
es focused beyond his reflection in the window to the room inside. He immediately spotted a pretty woman wearing a long green dress, with her lavender streaked hair held back by a headband.
“Come on, Daddy.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “There’s Miss Sam.”
“You look fine, son.” Mrs. Benson gave Lucas a wink before bending down to adjust the red beret on Lucy’s head. “You, my dear, look like a true artist. Are you ready for your first art show?”
“I was born ready!” Lucy beamed. “Let’s go!”
“Where did you learn that?” Lucas wondered. “Let me guess …”
The answer to his question opened the studio door and popped her head out. “Hey guys! You’re early. I thought for sure most people would be on Chinese time. Come on in.”
Lucas held the door open and followed Lucy and his mother-in-law inside. He almost lost his words when he passed Sam. Up close she was even more beautiful. The delicate lace pattern of her dress played up her elegance, but it also hinted at her daring personality with a sheer floor length skirt that revealed her legs. And her smile. He missed the way she looked at him with that spark in her eyes. What a sight for his tired eyes. “Thanks for inviting us. I got you some coffee for your big day.”
Sam smiled and took the cup he offered. “Thanks. George brought me a cup already, but I’ll never complain about too much caffeine.”
“George?” Lucas felt his jaw muscle twitch. “As in the law professor?”
“Yes, that George. His girlfriend owns an art store downtown. I bought some canvases from her when they had a friends and family sale. They dropped them off earlier.”
“You’re kidding.”
Sam placed one hand on her hip and smirked. “I can’t believe it either. I actually wait for things to go on sale before buying them. Except for shoes. Nothing can keep a girl away from her shoes.”
