The sumptuous smell of pot lasagna, mingled with the sweet smell of apple pie bubbling in the oven, filled the house. She’d made Zed’s favorites. Soft jazz poured from the sound system.
Tasha smoothed her cream sweaterdress, accented with chocolate-colored tights and toffee-colored boots. It was a favorite outfit of Zed’s. A matching cameo choker necklace and shawl finished off the look.
She mentally rehearsed her confession to Zed about her mom and his dad. She figured she’d do it at the end of the meal, when he was satiated and happy.
She heard Zed’s office door open and the creak of the stairs.
“Whew,” she whispered. “Here we go.”
Heading to the bottom of the steps, she waited for him to descend. “Hey,” she said as he arrived on the landing.
Zed’s eyes immediately roamed the candlelit house.
Was she imagining it, or did he seem subdued, different from the night before? Or was fear taunting her that her past would be her future and warning her not to open herself up to humiliation.
Because she felt awkward and didn’t know what to do, she raised her hands dramatically. “Surprise!” she said. She heard the tremor in her voice.
Zed half smiled, but she saw his brow curl in curiosity.
“What’s the occasion?”
“You. You’re the occasion, Zed.”
Something flickered in his light eyes, but just as quickly disappeared.
Tasha took his laptop bag and set it in the foyer. “Sit,” she ordered. She pointed to the table. She’d decorated it with a lace tablecloth and fresh flowers.
Zed followed her orders, but after she brought out the second course with pot holders, he started to rise. “Can I help?”
“Nope.”
He reluctantly sat back down.
When everything was on the table, she joined him. They said a prayer and ate. From the satisfied look on his face, Tasha knew Zed enjoyed the meal. However, as he finished each dish, her apprehension grew. Because when he was done, she was going to have to broach the subject she dreaded.
When Zed finished, he massaged his stomach. “That was amazing.” He studied her. “Why do I feel like I’m being buttered up for something?”
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Not as much as I’d like to know what’s really going on.”
Tasha bit her lip. “Let’s clear the table and go to the couch.”
Zed obliged. They tag-teamed filling the dishwasher. After Zed helped her blow out the candles, they turned on the living room lamps and headed to the couch to sit.
Tasha gathered her courage.
“Is this about last night?” Zed said tentatively.
Tasha knew he was talking about the kiss. That amazing kiss that had left her breathless and feeling like she was floating on air. She shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin.”
Zed, apparently noticing her serious expression, straightened as if he was bracing himself for something.
“You know what I wish, Zed? I wish things could stay like they were yesterday. It was the most amazing day.” She was embarrassed about the unexpected tears that sprung from her eyes.
Zed looked concerned. “Hey, it’s okay.”
She swiped her wet cheeks. “No, it’s not, Zed. And I’m scared after I tell you what I’m about to, it will change everything.”
“Give me some credit. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
Tasha gazed heavenward and gathered her resolve. “You know your aunt’s letter that you gave me?”
He nodded.
“Well, it contained some pretty shocking news.” Tasha considered how to best broach the subject. “For one thing, I learned our annual Christmas visits to your house might not have been as random as I thought.”
Confusion darkened his features. “I don’t get it.”
Defeated, she slumped against the couch. “My mom knew your dad.”
His eyebrows leaped in surprise.
She was suddenly so done with it all. She wanted to get it over with. “She didn’t just know him. I think they had a relationship.”
He froze. “I don’t understand.” She heard the coolness seep into his tone.
“I know it’s unbelievable. I found out while talking to Vincent about my mom’s past that your dad was the man my mom once loved. He said the man who broke up with her lived here. And your aunt’s letter said your dad might have reignited a relationship with a childhood sweetheart.”
Zed blinked several times, as if his brain was trying to clear out cobwebs and absorb what he’d heard.
“This is so hard for me,” she said. “My mom and I were extremely close. I never thought in a million years she would have done something like this.”
Zed’s expression turned conflicted. “You’re telling me my dad and your mom had a relationship and you kept it from me?” He abruptly arose from the couch, rubbing his hands over his fade haircut.
“I’m so sorry, Zed.”
“Tasha, you have to understand, I watched my mom’s heart literally shrivel up and die. She suffered lifelong bouts of deep depression. And now you’re telling me your mom might have contributed to her sorrow by stealing my dad’s affection? This is difficult to hear.”
She stood up, too. “Zed, please listen,” she begged. “I didn’t want any secrets between us. Last night was the best night of my life.” Emotion constricted her throat. She swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. “You changed me. I wanted to open up to you. That’s something I’d promised myself to never do again with a man, Zed. Ever.”
Zed looked pained. “Tasha, if you’re asking me to brush what your mother did under the rug, I’m not sure I can.” His jaw tensed. “This is what I meant about relationships being impossible. They’re messy.” He looked pained. “Good thing ours has an end date.”
She gasped. His words hit her like a sudden avalanche.
He walked past her and out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Tasha examined her face in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying and lack of sleep.
The grief and sorrow of Zed’s cool rejection was devastating. She had to admit to herself that in the back of her mind, she’d always thought that if the guys that rejected her had only stayed in the relationship long enough to really get to know her, they would have loved her. Zed’s response provided a fatal blow to that theory.
Through the night she’d struggled with what to do. Milo, apparently sensing her mood, had jumped in the bed beside her.
She’d considered going back to her old studio. But beyond the anticipated payment, her integrity and the promise she’d made to Zed finally won out. She also remembered Zora’s stipulation that a court-appointed spot check on their living arrangements might occur at any time. As hard as it would be, she decided to stay in the house with him until the agreement was up. The place was big enough that she could avoid him most of the time.
When she returned to her room after her shower, she found an urgent text from Pastor Landry, asking to see her immediately. A million scenarios ran through her head about why she was being summoned. Her intuition told her it couldn’t be good.
She doctored her eyes the best she could, dressed, put on sunglasses and hoped it wouldn’t appear too rude to wear them while talking with her pastor.
When she went downstairs to make a quick cup of coffee, she was grateful to find that it appeared Zed had already left for the day, evidenced by his dirty dishes neatly stacked in the sink and his missing satchel, which he always kept by the door.
She texted him about the meeting with the pastor and asked for his prayers. He texted back:
Want me to come along?
She texted:
No. But appreciate your prayers. Not sure what the meeting’s about.
He texted back:
Praying.
Though she was grateful not to have to see Zed, it saddened her that he probably was purposefully avoiding her. It was the same pattern all over again. She opened her heart and made herself vulnerable and her heart was broken. When would she ever learn? How could she have been such a fool?
She drove to the church and mentally prepared herself as she walked up the path to the sanctuary. The bright Colorado day, with a gentle wind and majestic mountains bathed in light, belied what she knew she was about to face. Pastor Landry’s terse text felt foreboding.
She walked into the lobby and down the long glass hallway to the administrative offices.
Sandy Kramer, the church secretary, was staring at her laptop screen, her fingers typing rapidly. The woman looked up at her and her fingers froze. Sandy’s normal friendly expression was bland, like lukewarm water. “Good morning, Tasha.” She might have been talking to a stranger, if Tasha didn’t know any better. Sandy cocked her head toward the conference room. “They’re waiting for you.”
Tasha nodded. “Thank you.” She started toward the wooden double doors to the conference room. A thought had her turning back to the secretary. “Sandy, thank you for always being so supportive of me.”
A flicker of compassion flashed in her eyes. However, her expression remained dour.
When Tasha entered the conference room, Pastor Landry, Pastor Meltzer, a few deacons and several church board members were sitting around the conference room’s oblong table. She guessed the empty seat at the end was for her. There might as well have been an interrogation spotlight cruelly beaming down over the chair. Her seat was separate from the cluster of other chairs.
“Tasha,” Pastor Landry greeted her. “Please sit.”
Tasha complied. She noticed the others in the room’s eyes were glued on her.
“Would you like anything?” Pastor Landry asked. “We’ve got sparkling water, regular water, and I think there are some cookies leftover from the bake sale earlier this week.” Although his offer sounded pleasant, Tasha heard tension in his voice.
She felt like a soldier at a firing squad being asked her order for the final meal. “No, thank you,” she said.
Pastor Landry shuffled some papers in front of him, then gathered them and drummed them against the table until they were one neat pile. “Tasha, first know that we love you,” he said. His sea-blue eyes looked somewhere just past her, as if it was too hard to look at her directly.
She tried to say something, but her throat ached. She simply nodded her head in agreement with his words.
Pastor Eric Meltzer, the administrative pastor, sat up, bracing his shoulders. “As you know, Tasha, the Bible says that leaders are held to a higher standard. Pastor Landry shared with us your marriage arrangement.”
Tasha’s heart leaped in her chest.
“Pastor Landry wanted to get our take on the situation,” Eric continued. “We are in agreement with him, that although this is a unique situation, the truth of it is that you are married. We feel you should give this relationship a chance.”
Their words plunged into her heart like a knife and twisted. They were encouraging her to stay in the marriage. With a man who told her he would never commit himself to her or anyone else.
Her automatic defense mechanism response—to explain her desire to save Zed’s family home, as well as her purpose to help sow into happy marriages by her new business plans, funded by money from the agreement—seemed moot. She sensed that this group had made up their minds about the matter.
Pastor Landry gave her a level stare. “Let’s cut to the chase. We are putting you on a short hiatus as the singles’ pastor and as the church’s wedding planner. We’d like you to use this time to search your heart about your life. I realize we put undue pressure on you about marriage. I’m guessing this might have contributed to you feeling the need to do what you did, in entering into your unusual agreement.” Although his tone didn’t seem to ask a question, he studied her as if he was waiting for answer.
She nodded.
“That’s what I thought. I implore you to use this time on hiatus to discover the source of your pain and ask for God’s healing.”
Tasha gulped. A sudden river of tears gushed from her eyes. “I’ve wanted to be married since I was seven. I saw what my mom went through as a single mom. Yet, like some Groundhog Day movie repeat, every guy I’ve ever cared for didn’t want me. Do you know what that feels like—to think you would be such a blessing to someone, but to constantly be made to feel like you’re no more than gum under their shoe? After the last breakup—by Christmas card, thank you very much—I was just done. I decided that I could love myself and give myself the best life. Because my dream had died.”
Pastor Landry’s neutral expression turned sympathetic. “Tasha, you need to understand something. We serve a God who can bring life, even from death. That’s what we’ve celebrated these last three months—Jesus’s birth at Christmas, our ultimate life-from-death hope, the New Year, symbolizing fresh opportunities, hopes and dreams, and Valentine’s Day, the universal celebration of love and its possibilities. Maybe your issue wasn’t only giving up on love but also giving up on the Author of Love, who’s a master at writing new stories.”
Tasha grabbed a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes.
Although inside she felt like wax melting in a fire, she bucked her shoulders back, held her head high, stood and walked out. As she passed Sandy, she noticed the woman’s inquisitive gaze. Unable to speak, Tasha simply nodded and walked past the woman.
It was only when she was outside in her car that she fully caved in to the humiliation and regret she felt. Her phone pinged and she saw a text from Zed asking if she was okay. She gave him a simple “yes.” Though she usually preferred phone calls over text, for once she was happy for the cut-and-dried ability of a text not to reveal the nuances and shades of emotion that a tone of voice could reveal during a conversation.
Zed texted back that he’d leave work immediately and meet her at home. Despite their recent coolness toward each other, she was touched that he wanted to be there for her.
When she arrived at the Victorian, Zed’s car was already there. The smell of Chinese takeout greeted her nostrils as she entered the house.
Zed peeked from the kitchen. “I got dinner. Figured you might not be in the mood to cook.”
“Thank you.”
She took off her coat, hung it up and joined him in the kitchen. As they ate, she told him about the portion of the church meeting where they put her on hiatus to figure her life out. She left the rest of the conversation out.
“Know that I’m here for you,” he said. “And maybe the hiatus is an opportunity to come back stronger and to be able to help the singles’ group even more.”
Right. For the terms and limits of our agreement, you’re here. No more. No less.
“Some good mentor I’ve been.”
Sympathy poured from his eyes. “Tash, don’t beat yourself up. We’re all works in progress. The best thing you can do is not try to be a symbol of perfection, which isn’t possible anyway, but an example of imperfection—sometimes broken, but put back together by God. Besides, I think you underestimate how much they love you.”
While his words comforted her, another thought wiggled into her consciousness. He believed her singles’ group had a strong love for her, yet he himself did not. He was in the group with all the other men who had broken her heart and hadn’t loved her enough.
Even though Pastor Landry talked about God’s ability to bring life from death, God also gave people free will, and it was obvious nothing was going to happen with Zed. It was a good thing their time together was almost up. She was so done living in a fantasy world. It was time to swallow a deep dose of truth and move on.
* * *
Zed took one hand off t
he steering wheel and rubbed his temples. A mild headache threatened to blow up.
A car honked sharply, jolting him out of his reverie. He looked at the speedometer. He was going five miles below the speed limit. Man. That was a first. He was normally heavy footed on the gas pedal.
He sped up. Maybe subconsciously he was going slow because he dreaded the meeting that Anton had set up with him. His second sense told him Anton had something serious to talk to him about, but he knew he needed to just man up and get it over with.
Besides a few small disagreements that they’d quickly laughed off with an apology and a hug, they’d never had major differences. He truly considered Anton blood.
His best friend had agreed to meet him at Nate’s Nest. Zed thought that would be easier than facing both Anton and Maya together at their home. Divide and conquer was his philosophy.
Finally arriving at the restaurant, Zed parked and exited the truck. “God, I need Your grace,” he whispered. When he entered the restaurant, he instantly saw his best pal. Anton waved him over and gave him a bear hug.
“Hey,” Zed said as he slipped in a booth seat.
“Hey.” Anton’s lips curved into a smile. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
Zed nodded. His buddy stared at the menu like it had hidden secrets of the universe.
“I’ve missed you, man,” Zed confessed.
“Same here, bud.”
The waiter, a pimply-faced boy with a man bun, appeared. He had big St. Bernard kind eyes. “Wouldja like something to drink?”
“Coke, no ice. And I’m ready to order. I’d like a burger and fries.”
The waiter scribbled the order on his notepad and disappeared.
He eyed Anton. “What are you thinking about ordering?”
Anton looked up. “Nothing, man. I’m just flirting with the menu. As much as I’m tempted to get something, Maya’s got me on another one of her diets. Wifey’s got me eating tofu, which I personally think tastes like boiled rubber bands, though that might be an insult to rubber bands.”
Claiming His Christmas Inheritance Page 16
