Chapter 3
She barely got through the rest of the week and every time the doorbell sounded, she looked up expecting to see David.
Sunday came with dark angry clouds and a humidity that defied description. She pretended to be ill when her father asked her about going to church. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out but she could not bear the thought of facing David just yet. And besides, she wanted to be by herself for a little bit.
“Make sure you get yourself something to eat,” he told her sternly as he brought her some herbal tea and a slice of toast. Sara felt a little guilty as she told him thanks but it was worth it just to have the time to herself to think and to plan. He left shortly after and Sara drank the tea, leaving the bread untouched, sliding the sheet over her; burrowing her head on the pillows. He had kissed her and she had let him; not only that but she had wanted it so badly and had wanted so much more.
The memories kept flooding back. The time when he had made a picnic lunch for them and they had stolen out after their parents had gone to bed; and he had brought a blanket along and a pillow. She had just turned nineteen and he said he wanted to celebrate with her alone. There had been a huge cypress tree in the nearby park. The night had been cool and he had brought all kinds of sandwiches and a bottle of cheap wine.
They had eaten their full and had drank the whole bottle of wine and had laid there staring up at the stars, slightly inebriated.
“I wish we could stay this way for a while,” she murmured as she linked her hand in his.
“We can,” he told her softly, rolling over to hover over her. “I love you,” he had told her passionately. “And I want to be with you every single day.” He had not waited for her to respond but had bent his head and kissed her; his inexperienced kisses stirring her heart.
They had fallen asleep and jumped up before dawn; hurrying home before they were missed.
They had talked about so many things but she had never told him her yearning to become a model; he had always assumed she was satisfied to just stay in the little place where they were born and that they would get married eventually. She had tried to be what everyone wanted her to be but she had wanted to do more, see more and she had but it just had not turned out the way she expected.
She fell asleep shortly after and it was not until her Dad came home that she realized she had spent almost the entire morning in bed. She hurriedly got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. She could hear him downstairs hanging up his raincoat and umbrella and she quickly pull on a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt. She was not in the mood for questions right now. He came upstairs just as she was heading down and he stopped halfway.
“How are you feeling?” the concern was evident in his voice.
“Not too bad now,” Sara continued down. “I guess I just needed to get some rest.”
“Good,” he kissed her on the cheek as she made to pass him.
“How was church?” she asked him
“Very good, your friend Callie asked after you and of course young David asked if you were okay,” he gave her a questioning look which she ignored.
“Okay, I’ll just rustle us up some dinner,” she turned to go inside the kitchen. “How do feel about a chicken salad?”
“Sounds good,” he told her; going upstairs.
They ate at the kitchen table with her father telling her about the sermon preached at church.
“Dad may I ask you something?” she asked him as he drank down a glass of root beer.
“Of course,” he told her, looking at her curiously. He was almost sixty and there were patches of gray in his thick dark hair that he wore very low but apart from that he looked a lot younger.
“Do you still love her?” she had always wanted to ask him that question but had been so afraid of bringing up the hurt and pain he must still be feeling.
He put his empty glass carefully on the coaster; careful lest he made a water ring on the lovingly polished mahogany.
“I will always love her,” he told her quietly, with a sad smile.
“But why?” Sara cried, shaking her head in bewilderment. “She left you, left us and without a word and has not been back or even being in touch, what’s there to love?”
“You can’t just turn off love like that Sara, I hope you know that,” he stared at her quizzically. “I loved your mother for a long time and that’s not going to change, no matter what she did. Our Lord Jesus loves us no matter how many times we mess up and nothing we do will ever make Him stop loving us. Caroline left because she could not handle a small town and what it took to be wife to a deacon and the responsibilities it entails. I can’t hate her, my dear because that would mean I never loved her in the first place.”
That was probably the longest speech she had ever heard from her father and Sara found herself staring at this magnificent man who in spite of his heartbreak and pain had brought her up in the best way possible.
“I can’t forgive her,” Sara murmured, looking away from him.
“That’s up to you my dear,” her father reached out and took her hands in his. “But not forgiving her means that you are missing out on life and you’re letting her have power over you. You’re too beautiful; inside and out to live life halfheartedly.”
“Don’t you hate her just a little bit?” Sara asked pleadingly, holding on to his hands.
Deacon Williams laughed fondly, squeezing her hands. “Not even a little bit. We both made something wonderful and that’s you by the way and for that I will forever be grateful; everything else pales beside that; I actually feel sorry for her and what she has missed, watching you grow up.”
“Have you heard from her?” Sara asked him, her eyes lighting up at how proud he was of her.
“Several years after she left, she called; telling me how sorry she was and she had met someone and she was planning to get married.” He smiled a little whimsically. “She wanted my forgiveness and the assurance that I would not say anything to you about her to make you hate her.”
Sara was silent for a spell then she looked at him. “And you never remarry,” she commented.
“Not because of her but because of you, my dear.” He told her. “I would never allow another woman to try and play mother to you and I was contented to let it just be you and I.”
“Oh Daddy,” Sara reverted to her childhood name for him and coming around the table, she hugged him tightly. “I love you so much.” She whispered.
“I love you too, my little girl.” He told her huskily.
That night when she went to bed, she lay awake thinking about what her father had said to her and how serene and peaceful he was. She had been so angry for so long and she was getting tired of feeling that way – she knew she wanted a change.
*****
“My dear you are just the person I wanted to see,” Pastor Phillips greeted her warmly. He had come into the bookstore and she was just about to tell him that her father was on the road. She had gone to church last week Sunday and had not seen David; Callie had told her he had gone to a visiting church to do a performance. She had not seen him in two weeks and to her despair, she found that she wanted to see him so much that she kept looking up whenever the doorbell tinkled; expecting it to be him.
She waited until he told her what he wanted from her. She had known Pastor Phillips since she was a little girl and had grown to realize that when he wanted something done; he did not ask, he charmingly suggested.
“I remember you were involved with the youth department and we have a function coming up for next Sunday; some concert or the other,” he waved a hand vaguely. “Brother David has suggested we hold a concert in order to raise some much needed funds for the department. We have young people going back to school and all that and they need the monetary help. He is having a meeting with them tomorrow and we would very much appreciate you being there.” At the name of David, she had stopped listening and she knew she would refuse; but she had never been able to say no to Pastor Phill
ips; no one ever had and she did not know how to start now.
“That’s tomorrow,” she told him weakly. The store had emptied a short while ago so they were sitting at the corner table.
“Yes my dear, short notice I know but I am sure you’ll make it.” He patted her hand fondly and stood up to leave. “Tell Deacon I will speak to him later concerning Sunday.” With a wave he left, leaving Sara staring after him in bewilderment. She had committed to something and she had no idea when she had done so.
*****
Sara dressed carefully the next day. She had planned on going to church straight from work and she was determined to look her best; it was a matter of pride, she thought grimly, pulling on a slim fitting green cotton skirt and a sleeveless green and yellow silk blouse. She added green accessories and black pumps. Her hair had grown somewhat since she had been back and it fell in lustrous wave over her forehead.
The store was very busy and before she knew it; it was time to leave. “Dad I will see you later at home,” she picked up her pocket book from the office and headed for the door.
“Be safe,” he told her with a smile and went back to the cash register where he was ringing up a sale.
There was no other car in the parking lot when she got there and at first she thought she was early; she knew David drove a pickup truck that he used to make deliveries in and it was nowhere to be seen. Just as she was about to get out of the car, she saw the side door opened and he came out. Her heart thudded inside her; it was actually good to see him. He was wearing blue slacks and a blue dress shirt which was opened at the neck, revealing a glimpse of dark chest hair.
“I see you’re right on time,” he said, coming to stand beside the car. “Nice wheels,” he murmured appreciatively, running a hand over the shiny red surface.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “Where are the others?”
“The young people will be here shortly, so let’s go inside. I want to discuss some of the plans I have for the concert.” He opened her door for her and she stepped out, she could not help but notice his eyes on her bare legs.
He preceded her and held the door open for her. They were in the large church hall and Sara remembered the many times she and David and several others had stayed until way into the night to practice some play or songs or just hang out and quizzed each other on upcoming tests at school – it had been their hang out spot and at one point, where they had cuddled and kissed when the others had left. Sara stole a look at him to see if he remembered but he had gone up to where the music was.
“It looks the same,” she murmured, looking around at all the empty seats.
“Except for the addition of a keyboard,” he pointed to the corner. “It’s the same.”
He took a seat and invited her to join him. With a slight hesitation, she did; staying far away from him.
“I won’t bite, Sara,” he told her in amusement. “Not unless you invite me to,” his tone changed to one of huskiness. He stared at her and she stared back, mesmerized by his dark brown eyes. It was the babble of voices coming inside the door that broke the spell.
He got up and took charge, leaving her rooted to the bench, trying to gather her wits. With a deep breath she rose and joined him as he spoke to the young members.
He wanted a concert with a difference. There would be the usual singing but he wanted to depict some of the gospel reading in dramatic prose. And he wanted dances as well. The meeting went off without a hitch and with a feeling of great anticipation they made a date to meet right after church on Sunday.
She was wondering how soon she could leave when he came over to her. “I am begging for a ride,” he told her casually, facing her. “My truck is in the shop and I don’t want to take a cab back.”
“Of course,” she forced the words out of her mouth.
“Thanks,” he told her briefly, striding away to collect some papers he had on a desk. She waited outside for him while he closed up.
She got in the car as soon as she saw him coming and he got into the passenger side.
He tried to adjust his long frame to the bucket seat, shifting several times until he got comfortable. “I missed you at church the week before,” he commented.
“I was not feeling well,” she shrugged, her eyes on the road.
“So Deacon said,” he was staring at her and she felt his eyes on her. “Were you really not feeling well?”
She sent him a heated look, turning back to the road as she saw the hint of amusement on his face.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” she said loftily; praying that she would reach his house quickly. It was a cool night and she had forgotten to wear a sweater. She wound up the window with a slight shiver.
“Cold?” his voice was concerned. And before she knew what he was doing, she felt his hand on her arm; slowly rubbing it.
“What are you doing?” she asked sharply, pulling away from him.
“Trying to warm you up,” he drawled. “Or am I making you too hot?”
“You wish,” she retorted, her skin still tingling from his touch.
With a sigh of relief she saw that they had reached his house and she slowed down and came to a stop; expecting him to get out.
“Want some coffee?” he queried, not moving.
“No thanks, I really need to get home,” she told him, not looking at him. She did not trust herself to be alone with him.
“Please?” he said softly. “Besides I want to show you my house.”
With a sigh Sara capitulated.
The house was three bedrooms and a big living room with comfortable furniture; there was a keyboard and a piano that stood proudly in the corner of the room. She caught a glimpse of a dining room with a large table and several chairs. “Too big for one person, I know,” he said wryly as he came back with the cups of coffee. “Still take it black?”
She nodded. She had sat down on a small red couch, to discourage him from sitting beside her but to her consternation; he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her, crowding her.
“Were you seeing someone?” he asked her abruptly, placing his cup on a table beside them.
“What?” she asked him startled.
“Were you seeing anyone while you were away Sara,” he repeated impatiently.
“That’s none of your business,” she told him heatedly, putting down her cup with the intention of leaving; but he wouldn’t let her.
“I kept thinking about you with someone else,” he told her grimly. “And I wanted to die.”
“You were with someone as well,” she whispered, her heart aching at the tortured expression on his face.
“I tried,” he stared at her. “I convinced myself that if I tried hard enough I could replace you with her. She is a nice girl, a girl any man would be proud to call his own but she was not you and every time I kissed her, I saw your face and eventually she realized and she told me that I was not ready for a relationship with someone else. She loved me and I could not love her back, because of you.”
Sara did not know what to say; she wished he had not told her but secretly she was glad that he had not been able to be with someone else. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“That’s such an inadequate word isn’t it?” he mused. “Sorry I ruined your life, sorry I destroyed the love I gave you, sorry I stamped all over your heart. So inadequate.”
“David,” she began huskily, reaching out a hand to touch his strong jaw.
“Don’t,” he groaned and without another word he pulled her into his arms onto his lap. “I have tried so hard to forget you but I can’t” he whispered; his head coming down towards her; hovering as if waiting for her to stop him but she could not; she did not want to and with a sigh she reached up and put her hands around his neck. “Sara,” he groaned, taking her lips with his.
Sara’s mouth opened and she welcomed his kisses, her arms tightening around his neck as his tongue delved inside her mouth. One hand reached inside her blouse and brushed against the silk of her b
ra; touching the hardened nipple. She shuddered with need and her body quaked as he ran his finger over her nipple, his mouth moving over hers hungrily. Sara wanted more. He was driving her crazy with need and she wanted to feel him inside her.
“David,” she tore her lips away from his. “Please.”
His mouth grazed her cheek and went further until he took the nipple inside his mouth, stroking it lovingly. Sara cried out, gripping his hair tightly, arching her back against his onslaught; she was lost and almost begging him to take her.
Suddenly, he released her nipple and set her back on the couch. Sara stared at him, her body quivering with unfulfilled need.
“I can’t” he told her huskily, he had stood up and had started pacing; his expression tortured. “I can’t get over what you did and I suffered too much when you left.”
Trembling, Sara buttoned up her blouse, her expression one of mortification. She had almost begged him to make love to her. She stood up resolutely, passing a hand over her slightly mussed hair. “I understand,” she told him coolly; there was no way she was going to let him see how much she was suffering and he was right; she had hurt him so much in the past; how could she expect him to forgive her now?
“Do you?” he looked at her with narrowed eyes. She looked so unbelievably sexy; with her slumberous dark brown eyes with their golden tints and her nipples evident in the thin blouse; it was taking all of his will not to drag her back into his arms and take her right there on the floor.
“Yes, I do,” she turned and headed towards the door.
“This is not finished Sara,” he warned her huskily as her hand reached for the door knob. “Not by a long shot.” She hesitated briefly then twisted the knob and went outside without a word.
Sara drove home blindly, her thoughts crowding inside her head. She had thought she was over him; she had thought she was in love with Michael but realize now that it was just a surface emotion; nothing like what she felt for David. She had wanted so much for him to make love to her and she shivered as she remembered how his lips felt on hers – she had almost abandoned her pride and beg him to take her.
Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart: A BWWM Christian Romance Page 3
