“Could you come up here, please?”
I have to quit thinking about how incredible Levi looks. He’s wearing jeans and a button up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest and black high tops. The look doesn’t sound amazing when spoken, but Levi pulls it off.
“Here.” He hands me a microphone. “Sing these three words for me like this. He is holy.” He strums a chord.
I take a breath while I search the room, making sure we are alone. Closing my eyes I sing the words. “He is holy.”
Levi is still strumming. I open my eyes as Levi leans closer to his microphone.
“Sing into the microphone. I want to hear how something sounds.”
He must see the hesitation in my eyes.
“Please?” His brown eyes speak louder than his voice.
Well, since he said please I guess I could try. “Okay.”
Normally holding a microphone is like second nature to me, but this morning it feels like a dead weight. I struggle to hold it close to my lips as I start singing the words again. Levi starts singing something else, but my words are complementing what he is singing.
As we repeat the phrases I’m becoming more comfortable with this scenario. I glance at Levi, who smiles at me as he’s singing. I can’t help but smile back. The fact that I’m feeling more settled than unsettled is enough to unsettle me all over again. But I fight it. I want to feel comfortable in these situations.
Our voices continue to mingle and overlap and complement each other. Levi draws out the word “holy,” and I follow suit. As our voices go silent he continues strumming. I wonder if this is supposed to be a moment of reflection.
“Will you do it?” His fingers still work the guitar.
“Do what?”
“Sing with me during church. It’s the first song.”
I quickly set the microphone down then step in front of him. “No way. No how.”
His fingers don’t miss a lick. His eyes stay calm. “Come on. Our voices sound great together.”
“Maybe they do, but the answer is still no.”
“Afraid?”
My insides are more nervous than when I’m standing in front of twenty thousand people. “No.”
“What then?” he asks, still strumming.
“Not worthy.” I feel no need to lie to Levi. He seems to see through my vagueness anyway.
“No one’s worthy. What’s your next excuse?”
The quaint smallness of the church now starts to suffocate me. There’s an aura of peace here, yet I’m not comfortable. I can’t seem to settle into this type of environment. “I don’t feel comfortable.”
“You’ll get over it.”
His eyes alone could almost talk me into saying yes. But I won’t let them. “Why are you pushing me?”
“Because you’re used to settling. You need some gumption.”
And here I thought I couldn’t get settled. “I’ve got plenty of gumption.”
He cocks his head to the side and smiles. “True. But you’re using all your gumption in the wrong places.”
“Levi, we can’t stand here in a church and argue.”
“I’m not standing or arguing.”
I shake my head. “You’re not funny either.”
“Pretend you’re on a Nike commercial. Just Do It.”
Before I can respond, Pastor Ray walks into the sanctuary. Two couples follow him in then proceed to the pews. I guess people are starting to arrive for the service.
“Are you all set?” Pastor Ray asks as he approaches us.
“Yep. All ready. Summer might join me for a song.”
What is Levi doing? I open my mouth to protest, but the pastor’s voice makes me close my mouth quickly.
“The congregation will surely be blessed.”
Blessed? Who is he kidding?
“Good, then.” Levi nods his head. “We’re good to go.” He points to the microphone I laid down. “It’ll be right here if you decide to join me. It’s your choice.”
I follow him to the front row and sit next to him, my head still reeling. It’s your choice. My choice? Coleman makes it seem like I have a choice, but I don’t recall making too many decisions. It was always easier to let him decide and just do what he told me to do. After all, he put my best interests forward, didn’t he?
Not.
So why can’t I do what Levi says?
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.” I wonder if he hears the doubt in my voice.
“Good.” He pats my knee which is covered with my new dress. The gesture is surely one of a friend to friend. But after he pulls his hand away, I still feel his touch. My mind wanders shamefully, and I try not to make more of his simple show of concern than it really is.
Not everyone or everything has sexual connotations.
I’m so messed up in the head. In church no less. I cannot even perceive how God can use me. I certainly cannot get up and sing about how holy He is after these types of thoughts.
Moments later Levi’s elbow gently nudges mine right before he stands. I briefly glance at him before lowering my eyes. But I didn’t lower them quickly enough. His questioning gaze shoots through me, yet I stay rooted in the pew.
On the stage my microphone lays undisturbed.
Silent.
Levi starts strumming. His words are like music themselves. A soothing and hopeful calm settles over me. I wonder if anyone else in the congregation is experiencing what I am. My heart fills with a longing. A longing to sing.
Which I can remedy. In a few moments Levi will be finished with this song. I can still join him. He switched the order of the songs. Probably to torment me just a while longer. Watering that seed Skeet is always talking about.
Even though my heart is willing, I don’t think my feet will allow me to actually stand and walk.
Levi finishes the song. The congregation claps. A couple of guys even yelled out a whoo-hoo or two.
I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Look straight at Levi. Knowing what will show in his eyes.
But it isn’t his eyes this time. It’s his mouth. He mouths the words “come on” and leans his head slightly toward where the microphone lays. Then he smiles. This you-can-do-it-I-want-you-to-do-it kind of smile.
I press my palms on the pew because if I do stand I will need help. My right foot with my new red shoe is tapping the red carpet, while my heart beats to the same rhythm, the rhythm Levi is strumming out, the beginning of the new song. I’m into it. I can feel it.
I take a deep breath.
Chapter Six
I can’t go up there and sing. It’s just not in me. Refusing to meet Levi’s gaze again, my eyes close for a moment. As he sings about the richness, truth and passion of life, his voice permeates my very being.
Evokes emotions I can’t relate to.
I know he’s going to be disappointed, but there is no way I can join him on that stage. As small as it is, it’s bigger than any stage I’ve ever faced.
The music ends. I clap along with the rest of the congregation. Levi is better than good. There’s no doubt his talent and ability are way up there.
I discreetly watch him as he makes his way towards the pew. He settles next to me. Subtly, but there is nothing subtle about Levi as far as I’m concerned. He possesses an energy like I’ve never seen. He exudes goodness.
And I exude trouble. Great combination, huh?
A tap on my leg brings me back to the present. No longer able to avoid his eyes, I look at Levi straight up, ready to play eye war.
“Next time.” His voice is soft, surprising me.
My gaze lowers. How can he be so forgiving? I didn’t do what he wanted me to do. And he’s not upset. Or at least he isn’t acting like it. He seems real. Genuine. And okay with the situation.
How do I deal with this? How do I handle not only disappointing someone, but now I have to deal with the fact that it seems to be okay? His world doesn’t seem to be falling apart because I said no
. He’s not pitching a fit or threatening to cut off my allowance, or take away one of my cars. Craziness. And I’m at such a loss as how to handle this.
I guess I can be grateful we are still in church, and talking is a no-no. I may not know too much about being in a church, but that I do know.
The pastor must have said something about looking up a passage in the Bible, because the sound of pages turning fills the air. Levi is flipping pages in what looks to be a well-used Bible.
“First Corinthians,” he whispers, like I would have a clue as to what a Corinthian is. Let alone a first one.
His finger points to a grouping of words as pastor starts reading. The pastor is talking about love. How it doesn’t envy. It doesn’t boast. He certainly doesn’t know my friends.
I slyly look around amazed at the rapt attention that the pastor seems to garner. There are a few exceptions. A mother trying to calm a small child. An older man whose eyes are closed, but he doesn’t seem to be snoring, so his ears could be working just fine.
But the vast majority are listening, some even jotting notes. What is this God thing all about? I know what I’ve experienced recently, personally, but could I ever get up in front of people and talk about it? I don’t think so.
“Who can give me an example of a love like this?”
Surprised, I square my shoulders. Did the pastor just ask a question? Out loud? He continues to stand there as if someone might actually answer.
“When you do somebody a favor without expecting them to do something back?” A voice from the middle of the congregation answers in the form of a question, like he’s not really sure.
“Good,” the pastor answers.
A short discussion occurs between the congregation and the pastor. The one thing I thought I knew about church I didn’t know at all. Is this normal? And even if it is, how did these people, Levi included, ever get to this point? It’s so hard to talk about in public. Jesus freaks. That’s what my friends call people who go to church. What would they call Levi who sings in church?
What would they call Levi, who has no inhibitions about talking up Jesus no matter where he is?
And what would they say about me, hanging out with him?
Well, it doesn’t matter. They’ll never know.
“Come on, let’s grab some lunch before we start working,” Levi says as we place the last of the equipment into his trunk.
My heart speeds up while my mind calculates the ramifications of having lunch with Levi. Being with him in these non-working situations is starting to wear on my heart. Each time he suggests doing something that doesn’t have to do with what we have obligated ourselves to do makes me think he ‘wants’ to hang around me. I have to keep reminding myself he’s being polite.
He’s not romantically interested in me.
Dealing with the mystery of Levi, then Valentine’s unexpected visit, isn’t easy, and I wonder how much more I can take in one day. “Can we grab something and take it to Skeet’s studio?”
“Don’t want to enjoy a nice leisurely lunch?” Levi slams the trunk shut and braces one arm on the car. You know, like he’s not moving until I say yes.
I know I have to tell him about Valentine. I just don’t want to right now. Because if I tell him, I have to think about her. And thinking about her means thinking about why she’s here. And it can’t be good. “We have a lot of work to do.”
“All the more reason to take advantage of any down time.” He takes his hand off the car and clicks the remote. Like the conversation is finished.
I lose my case by joining him in the car. At least if our mouths are full we can’t talk. And I am hungry.
“Burgers and fries okay with you?” He pulls into a drive-through.
Could it be that he changed his mind, and we’re going straight to the studio? “Sure.”
He places our order.
After he pays, and I settle the food between my feet on the floorboard, he takes off in the opposite direction of our houses.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The smell of the french fries makes me realize just how hungry I am. We turn off the main road and ride for a short while on tree-lined street. A couple of stop signs later we make a right-hand turn into a park. A few cars dot the parking lot. There is a huge expanse of green grass surrounded by shade trees. A playground sits at the far end of the grass. Swings sway high in the air, and two little boys are teetering on the teeter-totter. I bet Sam would like this. Any good mother would probably take their child to a park. I can’t remember the last time I even saw a park unless it was a drive-by.
“Come on.” Levi leads us to a picnic table sitting under one of the trees.
Who am I?
I walk next to Levi on the plush grass. He carries the bag of food while I carry our sodas. This scenario has me so totally out of my element I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m me. I don’t do things like this.
When we reach the picnic table I set the drinks down. He starts pulling the food out of the bags, and I pitch in, my fingers very carefully avoiding his. The less physical contact I have with Levi, the better.
“Smells good.” He continues standing like he’s waiting for me to sit first. Oh, I keep forgetting, Levi is a gentleman.
So I sit. Can’t keep him standing forever can I?
He settles in across from me. We unwrap our burgers. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. Why haven’t I been doing these things with Sam?
Because my ex-husband has temporary custody of him. That’s why. And now he’s brought my sister here for who knows what reason.
“It appears something has you a bit troubled?”
Levi’s gaze tells me he’s genuinely concerned. If he only knew. I bite into a french fry. “I’m not troubled.”
“There’s something different about you today. I told you lightning wouldn’t strike you if you came to church.”
Levi speaks without hesitation, without reservation. He hasn’t known me very long, yet he seems to be able to read me more than a lot of people I’ve known forever. Of course, his thoughts are on church. God. Certainly no sibling rivalry in his life.
Facing facts, I realize I might as well come clean with him. Depending on the reason for Valentine’s unexpected visit, he’s bound to run into her at some point.
My burger loses its flavor as I make my decision. “No, God did not strike me down. He probably felt sorry for me. I had an unexpected visit this morning.”
He finishes chewing. “Must have been early. Who was it?”
“My ex-husband and my sister.”
The wind blows as if it’s the exclamation point at the end of my sentence. Levi slaps his hands on the bags so nothing sails off the table.
“Are they waiting for you now? Is that why you didn’t want to have lunch with me?”
His tone has an edge to it.
“No. Yes. My ex-husband, Todd, is gone. But he left my sister with me. I’m not sure why. I think we’re probably going to have some drama about something. My guess is that she’s run out of money again. Or, she wants a body part enhanced.”
His expressions collide as his mouth smiles and his eyes narrow. “You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“Are you going to help her?”
“I always have. But now things are different.”
“How?”
“I’m different. I don’t like her taking advantage of me. See that?” I ask, pointing to a tree behind Levi. A squirrel quickly runs up the bark and disappears into the leaves.
“That’s what I should do. Run from her and hide in a bunch of leaves where she’ll never find me.”
Levi finishes off his fries then jams the container into the bag. “Maybe you can help her.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. She just wants to take, take, then take some more. Right now I need to focus on Sam.”
A sadness seeps through me as I try to recall memories of Sa
m as a baby. I can’t remember his clean baby smell, or the softness of his skin. What I do remember is handing him off to the current nanny. I remember his scrunched up red face and me not having a clue as to what to do. Why won’t those memories disappear?
“Skeet told me you had a son. How old is he?” Levi brushes crumbs off of the table.
I sip my drink. “Four.”
“Very cool.”
Sounds of laughter come from behind. I turn around. A family is gathered playing Frisbee. The mom and dad appear to be on one team and the kids are all smiles as they fling the blue Frisbee.
Levi’s gaze follows mine. “Great idea.”
My first thought is that being a family is a great idea, but as that settles into my mind I realize he’s probably talking about the Frisbee.
“Yeah,” I say, “Too bad we don’t have one.”
“I brought one. Want to play?”
“Probably not.” I’ve never played Frisbee and have no desire to start now.
“Sure you do.”
I glance down at my new dress and red pumps. “I don’t think I have my Frisbee playing clothes on.”
There. That should get me out of the game.
“Kick your shoes off, and you’ll be fine.” Levi winks at me. “Just don’t go diving for it.”
It’s not my personality to ‘go diving for’ anything. What’s wrong with Levi anyway? I’ve only known him two days, and he’s put me in one uncomfortable situation after another.
“I’ve never played Frisbee.” There. Step one. Admitting the problem.
“I’m a good teacher.”
“I’m not a good pupil.”
“So you say.”
“So I know.”
Levi picks up the bag we’ve shoved all the trash in. “I’ll be right back.”
He tosses the bag into a nearby trash can then heads toward his car. Moments later he returns, a neon green Frisbee in his hand. “Ready?” he asks.
“No.”
“I beg to differ. Your shoes are off.”
“The grass feels good.”
“Come on, leave your shoes there.”
Reluctantly I stand. I’ve never been much of a sports person at all. I can dance, or at least I could. That’s one aspect I haven’t even thought about doing again. I’m so out of shape and practice.
Summer's Song Page 6
