Promising Angela

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  “Ben Atchison.” Ben stated his address and telephone.

  “And you were at the scene?”

  Ben clarified, “Not at first. Angela went out on her own. But when she didn’t come back to the bonfire, I got worried.

  I thought maybe she’d lost her way in the dark, so I went looking for her. Before I came upon the clearing, I very clearly heard her telling someone to give her the marijuana.”

  He looked at Angela, wishing she would meet his gaze, but she remained silent with her eyes downcast. He went on. “She didn’t ask to use it; she just told them to hand it over. When I reached the clearing, I saw the three boys run off into the woods. They dropped the marijuana before they left.”

  The sheriff wrote a little more then flipped the pad closed and slipped it into his breast pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Atchison.” Turning back to Angela, he said, “Miss Fisher, I will contact your parole office to let him know what transpired this evening. He may need to ask you a few questions when you return to Petersburg.”

  Angela finally lifted her head and offered a small nod in reply.

  For the first time, the sheriff lost his stern expression. “I’m sure this was a difficult decision for you, to call me, knowing the possible repercussions. I appreciate your making the call. Obviously, we don’t want our local youth involved in drug use. Hopefully we’ll be able to identify these boys and get them some help.”

  “I hope so, sir.” Her voice sounded weak, its former firm tone wilting.

  The sheriff strode to his vehicle and drove away from the camp while several people pushed forward, surrounding Angela. Their words of praise for her actions filled Ben’s ears. After a few minutes of excited activity, they began to wander into the dormitories, leaving only Angela, Stephanie, and Robyn waiting under the light of the lantern. When Angela’s gaze shifted to meet Ben’s, Stephanie and Robyn exchanged a look behind Angela’s head.

  Stephanie said, “We’ll turn in now, Angela.”

  “Yes, but holler if you need anything,” Robyn said, shooting a brief glance in Ben’s direction.

  He hung his head. The women had cause for concern, based on his past behavior. He hoped he could rectify that now. He waited until Robyn and Stephanie shut the dormitory door behind them before whispering a simple question.

  “Need a hug?”

  Angela gave a start. Had she heard him correctly? The tender look on his face proved she hadn’t misunderstood. And a hug was exactly what she needed.

  She took one hesitant step toward him, and he closed the gap with three firm strides. She flung herself into Ben’s embrace. His arms closed around her, holding her securely against his chest, and she pressed her cheek to his collarbone as tears stung behind her eyes. How she’d needed this hug! And to have it come from Ben … She thought her heart might burst from the emotion that pressed upward.

  She allowed the warmth of Ben’s arms and his heartbeat beneath her ear to soothe away every worry of the last several minutes. How she’d feared the sheriff would refuse to listen to her explanation, would simply haul her away in disgrace. Her knees still quivered slightly as the tension slowly drained away. She replayed words of congratulations and approval from the other campers at her courage, but as much as she appreciated the support of the others, what she really needed to know is what Ben thought of her now.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away. His hands slipped from her waist as she took a step backward and lifted her face to meet his gaze. “Thank you for the hug, Ben. I—I needed it.”

  His sweet smile—the smile she’d longed to see for so long—made her knees go weak again. But not from anxiety.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “Could—could we talk?”

  “I think we should.” Ben stretched out his hand, pressing his palm to the small of her back. A tingle traveled from her spine to her hairline, prickling her scalp. Without a word, he guided her across the shadowed landscape to the bench in the middle of the courtyard. They sat, one at each end of the bench, with a gap between them. Angling her knees toward the center, she faced Ben.

  The overhead tree branches waving in front of the lantern cast speckled shadows across Ben’s face, but she could make out his expression. None of the recrimination of previous days remained. Her heart thudded in a hopeful double beat.

  “Ben, I want you to know that everything I told the sheriff was true. I didn’t go out to that clearing to make a drug deal. I just happened upon those boys, and I tried to take the marijuana away from them so they wouldn’t use it. And when I told him I never intend to use drugs again, I meant that, too. “

  He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand, stilling his words. She had to be completely honest with him. She wanted no secrets between them to create problems in the future—if they were to have a future.

  “Out there, alone in the trees, I thought about opening up that marijuana and rolling a joint. It would have been so easy. No one was around, and I knew from past experience the marijuana would give me a few minutes of escape. My heart was aching, and a part of me really wanted that escape.”

  She kept her gaze pinned to his, determined to tell all. “But something stopped me. I realized I no longer wanted drugs to be my support system, my escape. I only wanted God. I asked Him to help me resist the desire for drugs, and He answered, Ben. He took the desire away. I know I won’t ever do drugs again. The need for them is gone. I have all I need in my relationship with Him.”

  For long seconds they sat together. Only the gentle lullaby of dry leaves rattled in the evening breeze. Ben’s gaze didn’t waver from hers, and none of the reproach she’d seen before flashed through his eyes. Gathering her courage, she went on. “There’s one more thing I need to say.” She paused, drew a deep breath, and released it slowly. Looking directly into his dark eyes, she said, “I love you, Ben. And I know you love me.”

  The muscles in his jaw clenched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow. “How do you know that?” His voice sounded husky.

  “You told me yesterday when you said you couldn’t watch someone else you loved walk the path of drug addiction. So I know you love me.” Leaning forward, she placed her trembling hand on his knee. “But, Ben, loving me isn’t enough. You have to be able to trust me, too. Love and trust go hand in hand, and if one is missing, there can never be unity.”

  Pausing, she took another slow breath to bring her erratic heartbeat under control. She feared the answer to the next question, yet she had to ask it. “Do—do you think you can ever learn to trust me when I say I won’t use drugs again?”

  Ben turned his face to peer across the grounds. A pulse in his temple spoke of his inner battle. Angela held her breath, waiting, praying. Finally he brought his gaze around to meet hers.

  Placing his hand over hers, he linked fingers with her. “Angela, what you did tonight took so much courage. Calling the sheriff, telling him you had marijuana in your possession … When I think of what could have happened to you … You could have been picked up and taken to jail without being given a chance to explain. Yet you took the chance because you knew you were innocent.”

  Tears glinted in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you. And your actions proved to me your honesty when you say you won’t use drugs again.”

  Angela released the breath she’d been holding in a whoosh of relief. She nearly melted, and Ben’s arms stretched out, capturing her and drawing her across the bench to hold her snugly beneath his chin. Cradling her in his arms, he went on in a tear-choked voice.

  “I’m so sorry I doubted you. I let what happened to Kent put blinders on my eyes. I’ve watched you over the past weeks, and I’ve seen so much evidence of growth. That verse in Ephesians, the one about being blameless and holy in His sight?”

  She offered a slight nod, cuddling closer, secure within the circle of his arms.

  “That’s what you are, Angela—holy. Jesus washed your heart clean when you invited Him in. He sees
you as holy, yet I refused to see it. Instead, I deliberately focused on your past. My fear of being hurt again built a wall around you that wouldn’t allow you to shine. I know I hurt you with my harsh words and judgmental attitude.”

  Pulling back slightly, he cupped her chin and lifted her face so he could look directly into her eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

  Angela smiled, her lips quivering as she battled tears. “Of course I forgive you.” Saying the words brought a rush of relief so great, Angela wilted against his chest once more.

  His lips touched the crown of her head. “Thank you.”

  Still nestling, Angela shared a private thought. “When I first met Kent, and I found out his disability was the result of drug use, I felt so … grateful.”

  Ben’s hands rubbed up and down her back. “Grateful?” His breath stirred her hair.

  “Yes. That could have been me, if I hadn’t gotten caught. He reminds me of where I might be if I hadn’t allowed God into my life. When I’ve been tempted to go back to drugs, I’ve thought of Kent, of how his life has changed because of his choices, and it’s helped me choose more wisely.”

  “Oh, Angela …” The words came out in a sigh, and she felt his hands still as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  Shifting slightly, she looked up at him. “Are you offended?”

  “Offended?” He smiled, but she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. “No, my sweet Angela. You’ve given me hope that Kent’s life isn’t wasted. He still has a purpose. God used him to help you choose to stay clean.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  She snuggled again, her eyes closed, breathing deeply to inhale the scents of the moment—damp earth, dry leaves, and the musky scent of Ben’s skin. It was a potpourri she wanted to remember forever.

  When Ben spoke again, the rumble of his deep voice vibrated beneath Angela’s ear. “You’ve shared with me. Now let me share with you.” Taking hold of her shoulders, he gently pulled her from her nestling spot. His fingers caressed her upper arms as he gazed into her face.

  “You said love and trust go hand in hand. You’re right. I’ve loved you for weeks, yet I withheld my trust. But no more. I promise you, Angela, from this moment forward, I will never again question your honesty. I will see you as Jesus sees you, as a new creature, holy and blameless in His sight.”

  His features swam as tears filled her eyes, and she blinked, swallowing as happy sobs pressed for release.

  “He has cast your mistakes far away, and I promise I will not allow those past mistakes to impact the way I view you today. You are beautiful, Angela. Beautiful, pure, and holy. I love you, and I trust you.”

  She felt the spill of warm tears down her cheeks, but instead of reaching to brush them away, she reached for Ben. He captured her in his arms, drawing her near once more. His lips met hers, warm and tender.

  Laughter rang from within her—joy-filled and healing. “Oh, Ben, I love you so much.”

  Cupping her cheeks, he pressed his forehead to hers. His whisper melted her heart. “Do you believe me? Do you trust me to keep my promise?”

  “Oh, yes. No broken promises. Not ever.”

  Ben sealed the promise with another kiss epilogue Ben gave Kent’s bow tie a quick tug, straightening it beneath his cousin’s chin. With a smile, he said, “Wow, you look pretty spiffy there, cuz.”

  Kent’s smile lit his face. “I am … best man.”

  Ben chuckled. “That you are, Kent. That you are.” When they were fifteen, the year before their fathers’ deaths, the boys had made a pact to stand up for one another when they married. It pleased Ben that, despite Kent’s challenges, the promise was being kept.

  The glow in Kent’s eyes convinced Ben his cousin understood the significance of the event. And, thankfully, over the past three months, Kent’s relationship with Angela had developed into a warm friendship. No jealousy lurked in Kent’s eyes, only pleasure in his role in the wedding. It was an answer to prayer.

  Ben walked to the mirror hanging near the door of the small room where he and the groomsmen readied themselves for the ceremony. Looking at his reflection, he had to smile. When he’d first spotted Angela at New Beginnings, would he have imagined meeting her at the head of an aisle while dressed in a black tuxedo and turquoise bow tie? Not in a million years …

  Unlikely, he decided. That’s what it was. Unlikely. Unlikely that he could fall in love with a former drug-abusing rich girl who didn’t even know how to cook. Unlikely that a woman uncomfortable around those with disabilities would fall in love with a man whose life’s call was to work with disabled adults.

  Even though Angela was the opposite of what he had thought he was looking for in a wife, the love in his heart was so strong and so right. Unlikely didn’t matter a bit when it came to God’s will. They were perfect for each other. He knew that from the depth of his heart.

  Eagerness built to go to the sanctuary, to fill his senses with the image of his bride coming down the aisle. Keeping with tradition, she had adamantly refused to allow him so much as a peek this morning.

  “It’s bad luck!” she had insisted last night after the rehearsal.

  “But wouldn’t it be good to take pictures before the ceremony?” It made sense to him to get all the picture snapping out of the way ahead of time.

  But she had shaken her head, making her curls bounce. “No, Ben.” Stepping into his embrace, she had peered up at him with serious eyes. “I want our first look at one another tomorrow to be in our wedding finery. I want to cherish your expression when you see how I’ve tried to please you with my appearance.”

  He had chuckled softly, certain she could come marching down that aisle in a pair of worn-out blue jeans and holey T-shirt and it wouldn’t change how he felt about her. But instead of voicing that thought, he’d promised, “Okay. No peeks before the ceremony.” Then he’d tapped the end of her nose and teased, “But it’d better be worth it.”

  She had tipped up on her toes to give him a quick smack on the lips. “Oh, I promise. It’ll be worth it.”

  He smiled again, imagining her in the room next door, primping, teasing her curls into place, adjusting her gown … His stomach clenched. How much longer would he have to wait?

  Spinning from the mirror, he glanced at his wristwatch—his wedding gift from Angela’s parents—and heaved a sigh of relief. It was time. He marched over to Kent and took hold of the handles on his wheelchair. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes. Let’s … get married.”

  Ben laughed. “You got it.”

  Angela sent a quick glance down the length of her gown of snowy white. Seed pearls and sequins formed delicate swirls on the unblemished backdrop of satin. She touched the beaded band at her throat and felt her pulse racing.

  Turning to her father, she whispered, “Is my hair okay? Everything still intact?”

  He pulled down his brows, seeming to examine the elaborate twist held in place with pearled pins. She had deliberately pulled a few stands free to fall in spiraling curls along her neck and cheek. Her father tugged one of those free curls, smiling as it sprang back into place. “It looks okay to me.” Then his lips tipped into a smile. “You look beautiful, Angela. Simply radiant.”

  “Oh, Daddy …” If everything went wrong during the wedding ceremony, her father’s words were enough to make up for it.

  The lilting melody of Bach’s Arioso drifted from the sanctuary, and Angela sucked in a breath of eagerness. She whispered, “Daddy! It’s time!”

  His fingers tightened on her arm, his smile warm. “Are you sure you want to go through with it?”

  “Daddy, please!” She giggled, pulling at his arm. Her father had asked her that question at least four times already, but she wasn’t offended. For the first time in her life, her father was taking a genuine interest in her. Even though she had insisted on being married in unpretentious Grace Chapel instead of the huge church downtown, even though she had chosen a man of moderate
means instead of a man of wealth, even though she had chosen a simple ceremony followed by cake and punch rather than a grandiose celebration, her parents had agreed and supported her. She and Ben had every confidence that eventually their witness, combined with Aunt Eileen’s, would win her parents to the Lord. Angela had never been happier.

  “Okay,” her father chuckled. “Let’s go.”

  They stepped through the door as the guests rose in honor of the bride. Ben was hidden from view until Angela turned the corner at the foot of the center aisle, but when she got her first glimpse of her groom, she released a gasp of pleasure.

  Oh, Father-God, thank You for the gift of this man. The sparkle of joy in Ben’s deep blue eyes drew Angela like a magnet, and she sped her steps instead of staying in time with the gentle flow of music. She read in his eyes a silent message: You were worth this wait.

  She answered with a smile of her own: You’re everything I’ve dreamed of.

  Facing the minister, Ben’s warm palm on her spine, Angela drank in the message based on First Corinthians 13. When the minister read, “‘Love believes all things …’” she felt Ben’s fingers press against her flesh. She flicked a brief glance at him, assuring him she made the same promise.

  When she spoke her vows, her voice catching as emotion filled her throat, she offered a silent prayer to God to honor Him by keeping every pledge made to Ben on this day.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks when she was finally able to lift her face to receive her first kiss as Mrs. Ben Atchison. Ben cupped her cheeks, his thumbs along her jaw. She clasped the backs of his hands and smiled through her tears.

  She whispered as the guests broke into applause, “To God be all praise and honor.”

  “Amen,” Ben whispered in reply. His lips captured hers once more, delivering a promise of wonderful things to come.

  For my critique partners, past (Beverly, Jill, and Darlene) and present (Eileen, Margie, Ramona, Staci, Crystal, and Donna).

  Thank you for your consistent mentoring.