Kyle jumped up from the cozy country blue print sofa and walked into the kitchen. Searching through the cupboards she brought down a glass and then it happened. The glass slipped from her fumbling fingers and shattered, the pieces in a million tiny shards flying in all directions on the ceramic tiled floor. The sound of glass breaking tinkled like an echo. Kyle stared at the mess. The sound of glass breaking. She put her hands over her ears to stop the screaming, then realized no one was screaming.
Kyle’s thoughts, like the shards of broken glass, began flying in all sorts of directions. “Lord, what’s happening?” Kyle heard the panic in her voice. “Why am I alone here?”
Tears formed in her eyes as she dropped to her knees to pick up the glass with her hands, then stopped. What was she doing? Quickly, she jumped up and began looking for a broom. Several minutes later it was cleaned up, the small rug shook free of glass and replaced in the exact spot. But the mess in her heart was still there.
Perhaps she had erred in coming here alone. It seemed rather strange at the very least. Here she was, after being with people every day since she had come to live with the Kincaid’s. Going to college, working at church, mentoring her adoptive parents’ two children. She had everything she’d ever wanted.
“Lord why am I here?” She asked again, raising her voice.
The phone rang and Kyle jumped. No one knew she was there, so she waited for it to stop. The answering machine kicked in and she heard Marcel’s voice on the other end. “Kyle call when you’re ready to come back okay? Hope everything’s okay. I can be there in thirty minutes if you need me…I’ll be praying for you…”
Kyle clapped her hand over her mouth as a sob came through her fingers. Marcel was so good, so kind, loving to a fault. And he loved her, had told her so with his eyes, although had never said the words. He was too wise to do that just yet. He had plans. Plans to be a missionary in Brazil, in the city where he was born, Porto Velho.
Kyle’s knees weakened and she fell onto the nearest chair, remembering the day they met. It was October, the first football game of the season at Grand State University. He knocked her hot dog with mustard against her brand new college sweatshirt. The yellow mustard was hardly visible against the gold shirt. She’d wiped at the mess with a napkin while balancing her drink.
Marcel apologized, first with his words, then with his eyes. “I am so sorry.” He said, humbly, then took the offensive mess from her hands and dumped it in the trash.
Kyle threw off the apology with a half-smile, hoping to forget the incident and go back to her seat, but he spoke quietly to his friends and taking her elbow escorted her up the stands waiting for her to show him where she sat. He made sure she was seated, then left. She pulled in a deep a breath, felt none the worse, minus her hot dog, anxious for the game to start. Within minutes, Marcel returned with another hot dog complete with mustard, stepped over her three friends and squeezed himself next to her.
“To replace the other.” He said, his English slightly tainted with some sort of she-didn’t-know-what kind of dialect.
“Oh, that’s okay.” She started to wave the hot dog away, then saw, in the lights of the football field, the sincere look in his soft brown eyes. She took the hot dog and ate it. And Marcel had been her friend ever since.
She had been a freshman college student straight out from high school. The community college they both attended was in southwest Michigan. Already in his second year, Marcel excelled in every class. He was tall, slender, black-haired and handsome. Beyond handsome. His soccer skills were unmatched by American standards. He had learned the favorite game of his home country, which she learned was Brazil. He played with an expert ease not seen in several years, so the coaches said. He’d brought them more than one win at the end of the day.
Kyle was proud to walk beside him. He was popular and the girls talked constantly of her envious position. Marcel laughed and talked with the girls, but he always took her to the special school functions.
She studied music, he, language and business. Her goal was to be a music teacher, his to write and publish Christian material which he felt was sadly lacking in Brazil.
It was he who had led her to a loving relationship with the Lord. He who had been patient with her slow, shy, yet stubborn ways.
She had known from the beginning Marcel’s life goal. Hers had wavered at times. Sins of the past haunted her, yet she knew the truth. Knowing God had set her free. Free to be herself. Free to pursue her own life. And she’d done exactly that for the last four years. And she’d done all of it without anyone knowing where she’d come from.
With her music degree finished, Kyle earned the position as assistant music director at the church her father pastored, which amounted to a lot of work for little pay. She’d been doing the job for just over a year.
Now she sat alone in a strange home wondering about things she didn’t want to remember. Why now? Why today? She’d been with Popi and Ana for nearly six years. This was her life. When she walked away from her old life, she’d put it all behind her, hadn’t she? What had sparked this rush back to the past?
Instantly she knew. The tattoos. The tattoos on the arm of that…that guitar player. That’s what it was!
Chapter 6
* * *
“By the time Marcel came to pick her up that night for church services, Kyle had come to no solid conclusions why she was so discouraged. Forcing herself to forget her past and trudge on toward the future she knew she wanted: one, a committed Christian husband and three children, two boys and a girl, she again pushed the button in her brain that said “Do Not Enter” and lifted her head.
“You’re looking bright and chipper. Enjoy the afternoon alone?” Marcel leaned down and tapped her nose with his.
“Yes. Thank you for understanding, Marc.” She smiled into his brown eyes and saw the makings of a wonderful husband and father.
“If we drive straight to church we’ll be on time for evening service. And…you don’t have to lead worship tonight, remember that? Popi said Twinkie is going to lead.
“Ah, good, I need a rest. You wouldn’t think it so stressful…this job…”
Marcel glanced at her sideways for a moment and silently prayed. Lord something is bothering her. Help me to understand.
“I really appreciate you giving me time alone.” She repeated, bright-eyed.
“No problem. We all need it…except I sense there’s something that you’re not telling me.”
Kyle shot him a glance and saw his beautiful profile. He didn’t turn to look at her because he was concentrating on driving…and waiting for her answer.
“There is Marcel.”
“Care to talk about it?”
“No.” Kyle shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to break the beautiful relationship they had.
Marcel deserves better, her conscience accused.
That thought gutted her. If that were true, why was she hanging on to him? Using him? She needed to either be truthful or let him go. She would never be good enough for someone like him. Never.
“We’re here. Remember, no duties tonight. We can sit together…for once.” He winked.
Kyle cringed. Why did she have to be so negative? Why now, when things were going so well between them? Why couldn’t she just pretend she was everything Marcel thought she was? Other girls did it. Other men loved girls that had been bad once.
Then the battering of her brain stopped and she did some self-talk. You are forgiven. Forgiven. Don’t look back. You know people that have gone through worse things than you have. Stop being such a child. Grow up. Act like the Christian you know you are. Forget it. Just forget your past.
Kyle pulled in a deep breath and shook off her misgivings. Nuisances. Just the evil one trying to pull you down, her conscience whispered. Get out there and be the person you know yourself to be now.
Marcel parked the car and came around for her. Smiling, she looked at him, grateful for his presence, stepped out of the c
ar and walked, head high, into the church on his arm.
Kyle smiled at all the right times, chucked Bob and Cindy’s six month old baby under the chin, and handed in her music plan for Sunday. Bob and Cindy were the head worship leaders.
At the end of the day, she was glad she and Ana had not had time to talk. Best to leave her misgivings hidden safely in her heart, not bring them up. It seemed easier to stuff them back down inside in favor of all the good she had going for her right now. Marcel. This church. Her music position. And, most of all, Popi and Ana. And the kids.
She had it all. Why in the world had she even thought to question her life? Happier, she whizzed past the swirling crowd and stepped outside in the shadows. Standing alone in the dark next to a beautiful up lit white Birch tree at the front of the church, Kyle looked up into the darkness. The moon was full. A soft white perfect circle in the new night, with pinpricks of stars just starting to reveal their everlasting presence. How could she feel alone with beauty like this surrounding her? How indeed! Kyle felt like breaking out in song.
Father, thank you for loving me, saving me, bringing me to this place. I dishonor you by not trusting you. You have brought me here and I am grateful. Use my life the way you see fit. I give myself to you completely.
Instantly her prayer time was interrupted with children flying out the doors and scattering in all directions. Shouts of “Tag, you’re it!” rang out. Smiling she caught sight of several familiar faces and remembered she was teacher to these children. She couldn’t let anything affect her life, especially not her own faults. She must stay strong for the children and for her family.
Kyle wondered fleetingly where she would be five years from now.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Disclaimer
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Other books by the Author
A sneak peak at CADENCE:
Wedgewick Woman Page 25
