by Irene Brand
“Sure, but—”
“I’d really appreciate it. Allison would, too.”
David was trapped, and they all knew it. He shrugged and turned to Sondra. “It is a really clear night, so the displays will look great. Want to go see them?”
It was Sondra’s turn to be horrified. She couldn’t bear the idea of forcing him to escort her. She’d never had to coerce a man into taking her out before, and she wasn’t about to start now.
She rolled her lips, too embarrassed to look at him, so she glanced at Brock instead. “You know, I’m kind of tired, too. Maybe I’ll just turn in early.”
Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and faced David. “Thanks so much for the offer, but I think I’ll have to—”
She didn’t even have the word “decline” formed in her mouth before Brock stepped between them. “You guys are really disappointing me. If you two early-to-bed homebodies are the best examples of quality singles we have around here, then the future for Destiny looks dim.”
Instead of responding to Brock, David turned back to Sondra again. “Come on. It will be fun. We can’t disappoint the old married folk, can we?”
“Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?” And how could she be so pathetic as to have a tripping pulse and sweaty palms over an offer like that?
Brock let out an audible sigh. “Good then, that’s settled. I didn’t think I would ever get the two of you out of my house so I could be alone with my wife.”
When both of them jerked their heads to face him, Brock grinned. “Tomorrow’s our anniversary, you know.”
Sondra was glad this outing would make someone happy because, whether he’d painted on a smile for it or not, David didn’t wanted to be with her. But hadn’t this whole week been about doing something for her cousin’s benefit instead of hers? Her thoughts settled, she grabbed her parka and headed for the door. This would be a night they would probably both remember—as a torture for him and a humiliation for her.
Chapter Seven
Sondra leaned her head back and stared up into the cloudless night sky above Hope Park, awed by the huge black canvas dotted only by a dusting of stars. Though the frigid temperature was a telltale sign that winter had taken up long-term residence in the Hoosier state, the wind wasn’t blowing now, so the drifts of powdery snow held their shape rather than constantly transforming.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sondra’s question came out as a sigh.
“You mean the lights? They’re great.”
Under the illumination of the displays and the park safety lights, Sondra could see him clearly, so she was well aware he’d been studying the celestial display rather than the earthbound one just as she had been.
“No. All this.” She spread her hands wide and looked up again, inhaling the Christmas air. Her lungs ached over its chill, but she barely noticed. Inside, she felt warmer than she had in days.
“You’re right. It’s beautiful.”
She smiled at his words as they trudged along the park path, the hard-packed base of snow crunching beneath their feet. They passed displays formed of multi-colored lights, but these images of Santa Claus and his eight tiny reindeer, Christmas trees and Frosty the Snowman couldn’t compare to God’s creation displayed above them in twinkling lights.
How ironic that the closest she’d felt to God during the season celebrating Jesus’ birth was with David, who Allison had told her was in a “questioning period” about his faith.
“Do you think the shepherds saw a clear sky like this the night Jesus was born?” She swept a hand wide and twirled around to follow it. “Except for the huge star, that is?”
“If I remember the story correctly, in the Book of Luke, it wasn’t a star that brought the shepherds to the manger. Wasn’t it an angel who showed up in the fields, scared them to death and told them the Good News?”
Sondra chuckled. Speaking of irony, he sure had a good handle on the Scriptures for someone who wasn’t sure he believed them. She was reminded of another time when he’d questioned her knowledge on the story of Jesus’ birth, but that seemed like a lifetime ago rather than days. A lot could happen in a few days—to perceptions and even to feelings.
“I know. I know.” She shook her head. “The only mention of the star in the east came in the Book of Matthew, when the Wise Men were following it. It’s strange how we think we know the nativity story, but it has changed so much in the retelling.”
He nodded as they passed a particularly large light display with a Babes in Toyland theme.
“For instance, if we were being strictly Biblical in the live performance, we wouldn’t have had Martin and his fellow Wise Men near the manger since they visited some time later at a house,” he said.
“And we wouldn’t have had the cows and sheep that the Bible never specifically mentions,” she added.
David stood still and looked up at one of the light displays, this one with of a manger scene just like the one they’d performed. He stared at it for several long seconds before turning back to her. “Our donkey-slash-Shetland pony wasn’t Scriptural, either, but we liked her anyway.”
Sondra couldn’t help smiling. She’d expected some awkwardness between them after the way David had been coerced into bringing her, but he’d been really nice.
“Maybe we don’t tell the story perfectly, but at least we tell it.”
With a nod at her words, David turned back to study the crèche again. Sondra stood admiring it as well, until the wind picked up and sent a chill through her. She pulled her hood tight over her ears.
“If you’re cold, we can go.”
“No, I’m fine. Allison’s boots are great.” She caught him glancing at the heavy cold-weather boots. “See Allison and I do have a few things in common. Including really big feet.”
“More than a few.”
His words brought her head up again, but David looked away before she could study his expression. Were these commonalities good things in his opinion or further reasons to convince him he shouldn’t have come tonight?
Neither said anything for several seconds, and when David did speak again, he changed the subject.
“I really didn’t want to come here tonight.”
“No.” The word was out of her mouth, dripping with sarcasm, before she had a chance to censor herself.
The side of his mouth that she could see in profile lifted. At least he thought her outburst was funny instead of pitiful.
“But not for the reasons you must be thinking.”
“Which are?”
Both of his shoulders lifted and then dropped. “I don’t know. You have to think I didn’t want to come here because it was with you.”
Sondra had to hold her breath to keep from sighing her relief. As if her sarcastic “no” hadn’t been enough of a giveaway.
“I mean, it was because I didn’t want to go with you, but…”
He let his words fall away just as the nearly inaudible “oh” slipped past her lips. Any lingering hope that he hadn’t heard it evaporated when he faced her.
“Look, I’m not saying what I mean here.”
He held his hands wide in a plea for understanding, but it was pretty hard to oblige him when she was so busy trying to guard feelings that should never have been this vulnerable in the first place.
“Are you always this eloquent as a speaker in court?”
He chuckled. “Sometimes more so. But let me try, okay?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but pressed on as if he couldn’t afford to lose momentum. “What I’m saying is I didn’t want to come here with you—to be anywhere alone with you—because I wanted…”
What? That she managed not to shout it loudly enough to wake the park’s hibernating creatures amazed her. Still, she didn’t have to wait long for his answer.
“This.” He lifted her gloved hand and laced his leather-clad fingers with hers.
Time must have passed, individual sparkling lights must have blinked on and off a few dozen time
s in synchronization, but her world paused as she saw nothing but their joined hands. Through his gloves and hers, she could still feel his warmth, and instead of anxiety, his touch brought her peace.
When she glanced up from their hands, David was staring at her. He wasn’t laughing or even grinning. If anything, the Casanova of Destiny looked uncertain, and that newest irony of the night made her chuckle.
“If my moves are that funny, then I must be losing my touch.”
Somehow she guessed that David had tamed his moves on her behalf. She shook her head. “Not funny.”
His lips curved up. “Good. I never wanted to be a comedian.”
He lifted her hand into the crook of his arm and started walking again. If this was how wonderful it felt to be a part of a couple, then she wondered why she’d made a habit of keeping her distance.
“From your live nativity performance, I’m guessing you also don’t want to be an actor.”
“Not if I can help it.”
They walked on in a comfortable silence past displays of snowflakes, hammering elves, a trio of Wise Men on camels and a Madonna scene of Mary and the Christ child.
“This isn’t your average Christmas lights display, is it?” Sondra said after the last.
“So you noticed. Hope Park is privately owned so there aren’t any of those church and state issues. That way many of the displays can show what the owner sees as the true meaning of Christmas.”
She couldn’t help giving him a sidelong glance to see if he was serious. “What the owner sees? You don’t believe Jesus’ birth is the true meaning?”
“I used to believe it all.” He looked past her to a wooded area. “I don’t know what I believe anymore?”
“How could you have played the part if you didn’t believe?”
“What can I say? I’m a sap, and my best friend coerced me into doing it.”
Sondra glanced at him again. “Didn’t it feel dishonest?”
“Sometimes. It did feel a lot like acting.”
“But you know the Scriptural nativity story so well.”
He glanced up into that clear sky once more. “Knowing and believing aren’t the same things.”
Sondra stewed on that as they continued on the path. He was right; those things were devastatingly different when it came to eternity. For the first time since he’d taken her hand, she felt cold, but the sensation was inside rather than on her skin’s surface, and more for his sake than hers.
“What made you question? I know you were raised in a Christian home. Allison told me your parents go to her church.”
“Now there’s some acting for you.” He looked straight ahead as he walked, his jaw tight. “My parents were too busy being seen in their third-row pew at church and funding events for their high-profile charities to remember they had two boys waiting for them at their so-called Christian home.”
“You have a brother?”
“Michael. He’s four years older. After college, he bought a ticket to Seattle and never came back.”
A lot of things about David were beginning to make sense. “But you did, even if you did join a small law firm known for pro bono work instead of working at the practice your grandfather started in the thirties.”
He turned his head to look at her. “How do you know all that?” Then he answered his own question. “Allison.”
She made an affirmative sound in her throat. “So part of your protest against your parents is to boycott the faith they taught you.”
He appeared to consider it several seconds before answering. “Maybe.”
That was likely the closest thing to an admission she would get, so she didn’t push it. Instead, she tilted her head back and studied the patterns of stars above her. “What do you see up in the sky?”
“You mean other than the Big Dipper, Little Dipper and Orion?”
She smiled. “I see God’s creation. It’s amazing. Maybe it sounds naive, but I really believe He placed those stars up in the sky for us to enjoy.”
“Not naive.” He stared at those same spots of light.
His words surprised her, but she didn’t tell him so. “I have the same kind of feelings about Christ’s birth. The live nativity was so poignant to me because it made God’s sacrifice real to everyone there.”
“The aroma sure was real.”
She shook her head at his comment. “Can you imagine the enormity of it? God was sending his son, not to be a little darling asleep on the hay. He was sending Jesus to grow up in the real world and then to die for our sins.”
Instead of answering her, he gently pulled away, causing her hand to fall back to her side. He turned to study one of the displays, this one of a choir of angels rejoicing. While he looked, Sondra studied him, trying to ignore how cold her hand felt no longer tucked in the crook of his arm.
“I don’t buy it,” she said finally.
David glanced over his shoulder in surprise. “Buy what?”
“That you don’t believe. You speak of your faith in the past tense, and yet you stare at the stars, just as amazed as I am. I think your faith is still important to you, but maybe you’ve just lost your way a little.”
When he turned back to her, he gave her his endearing half smile. “A little?”
“Okay, maybe a lot, but no matter how far you’ve traveled, God’s always there, waiting for your return.”
“It must be comforting to be so certain.”
“God’s the only certainty I’ve ever had in my life,” she admitted, surprising herself by being so frank. Opening to him felt dangerous in some ways and freeing in others. She didn’t know how to reconcile those feelings, and she wasn’t prepared to try.
David stepped toward her and took her hand again. “I’m glad you’ve had your faith to rely on then, because I wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
Sondra drew in a breath. Just as he’d touched her hand, now he’d caressed her heart. She could almost feel it warming and stretching, opening to him in a way she hadn’t expected, hadn’t planned. Suddenly, she wanted to touch his heart, too, in a spiritual and a personal way. She didn’t want him to be alone, either.
“Are you afraid to let God closer in your life?” she asked him.
His smile was slow, thoughtful, as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Sure, I guess. But aren’t we all afraid of something?”
Their gazes caught. Held. When he broke the connection, he lowered his gaze to her mouth. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him. She felt it with a clarity she’d seldom felt in her life.
But then his words filtered into her thoughts, muddling them. Yes, they both had fears. Her own question came flying backing into her face. Was she afraid? No, she was terrified. Not of her personal relationship with God, but of allowing anyone else to get that close.
Panic had her shoulders tightening, her elbows pressing into her ribs. This was a mistake. Sure, David seemed wonderful now, but what if he were just like her father. He already had a reputation as a scoundrel of sorts. Could she bear to be left again? No, the risk was too great. How would she gather up the pieces of her broken heart when he left?
Unaware of the war inside her, David leaned in so close that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Releasing her hand, he instead rested both of his hands on her shoulders. He studied her expression, waited. He was asking for permission. It was so sweet and endearing. But it was also something she couldn’t give.
“Uh, David, I can’t do this.”
Hurt flashed alongside the flickering lights in his eyes before he released her, his expression carefully blank. “Can’t or won’t?”
She only shook her head. Could she even explain her choices when her heart’s survival depended on it? For self-preservation alone, Sondra had pulled back from the only kiss she’d ever truly wanted.
Chapter Eight
That next afternoon David rang the doorbell of the Chandler household for the third time in as many days. Dreading this visit mos
t of all, he wiped some of the new snow off his coat and stomped the gray slush off his boots.
Lord, please let Allison answer the door instead of Sondra. He startled, surprised by how easily he’d reopened his dialogue with God, particularly when he needed something. And he needed something, all right. He needed to know what to say when he had to face Sondra again.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to wait for divine inspiration as the woman in question opened the door.
“Hello.” Sondra kept glancing up at him from under her lashes, looking as embarrassed as he felt.
“Sorry I’m late. I had breakfast with my parents so we could exchange gifts.”
She cocked her head. “What are you doing here?”
“Aren’t we supposed to clean the oven?”
“I’ve already started it. Didn’t Allison tell you it’s self-cleaning?”
She pressed her lips together, the same lips that he’d come so closing to kissing last night. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he still wanted to kiss her, too, right there on the porch. But admitting it was more than his pride could handle.
By now she was wringing her hands and balancing her weight first on one foot and then the other.
“Are you going to come in out of the cold?”
He grinned. “I guess I could.”
Sondra let him in and closed the door behind him, but she seemed to be looking beyond him or beside him. Anywhere but at him.
“I have to get back to the kitchen. Joy’s having a snack.”
As if on cue, the sound of metal pounding on plastic poured out of the kitchen.
David recognized the sound. “She has her spoon again.”
“She loves to beat it on the tray.” Sondra led the way into the kitchen where Joy, buckled safely in her high chair, was performing a drum solo with a teaspoon.
Joy paused from beating on the tray and causing Cheerios to bounce to the floor long enough to turn to him and point. “Dabe. Dabe. Dabe.”
“Hey there, kiddo,” David said.
Sondra bent to pick up some of the mess. “Okay, Joy, we’re going to have to eat some of these, too. The ones that haven’t hit the floor yet.”
