Yuletide Proposal

by Lois Richer

  “Sure.” He turned, studied her face, wondering if she would accept his help because she felt sorry for him.

  “My car is still in the shop, and I’d really like to pick up Cory’s birthday gift.” She must have read something on his face because after a moment Brianna shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll think of something else.”

  “I’ll take you. I can pick up a book on South America that’s waiting for me.” Zac realized he welcomed the afternoon away from town. And with Brianna? “Do you have to be home in time to make dinner tonight?”

  “Dad will eat with Mom, and Cory’s on that youth-group riding outing. They’re having a fire and picnic after so he won’t be home till eight or so.” She wore a funny look that told him she expected he’d change his mind. “Why?”

  “Just thinking. Let’s go.”

  But Brianna didn’t move. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.” Though Zac expected some leftover tension to tinge their afternoon, once they were on the highway Brianna told him she accepted his apology.

  “I understand this curriculum job is a big deal to you and that you don’t want anything to ruin it,” she mused, peering out the windshield at the golden swells of the hills. “So I’ll forgive you this time. But, Zac, you have to be honest with me. I refuse to work with you on Your World anymore unless you tell me the truth.”

  “Okay.” He glanced from the road to her, knowing by her tone that there was something else Brianna wanted to say. “And?”

  “I don’t believe your issues with public speaking are something you can’t overcome.”

  “Overcome how?” Not that Zac intended to change his mind about moving to Santa Fe for curriculum work, but he wanted to hear Brianna’s thoughts on defeating the bugaboo that had haunted him for years.

  “You won’t like what I’m about to say,” she warned with a sideways glance at him.

  “I’ll handle it,” he told her in a dry tone.

  “Okay.” She studied him for a moment. “In my experience, issues like yours stem from an overfocus on yourself.”

  “Hey!” Zac twisted his head to frown at her.

  “I warned you that you wouldn’t like it. Now let me finish.” Brianna waited for his nod before continuing. “The most effective public speakers, the ones we love to listen to, aren’t thinking about themselves when they speak. What they’re concentrating on is their audience, on getting their message across. They’ve got something to say and they’re focused on making a point, not on whether their audience will notice if they stumble or make a mistake or pause too long. It’s the message, not the messenger. But because they are so good at getting that message to us, we say they are good public speakers.”

  “You’re saying I’m getting in the way of what I want to say.” His lips pinched together. The truth hurt.

  “Yes, but it’s more than that.” Brianna looked at him, visibly debating her next words.

  “I won’t melt from criticism. Go on,” he told her.

  “If you could forget about what you feel like and focus on what your listeners feel like, on how they’re accepting what you have to tell them, you’d forget to be so self-conscious.”

  “You make me sound selfish.” He glanced at Brianna and knew that was exactly what she meant.

  “Because I think it is selfish to worry more about yourself than the message.” She opened her handbag, a turquoise satchel she usually looped over one shoulder.

  That was the thing about Brianna—she knew how to make a point. She could carry off a vibrant color like turquoise because she herself was so dynamic. Little things like speaking to a crowd of people didn’t affect her. Oblivious to his scrutiny, she pulled out a small notepad and began writing on it.

  “In the presentation tomorrow, for instance, you have to make sure the students realize that no idea they have is unworthy of writing on the board. You need to ensure that they and their dreams are valued. That has to be your primary focus.”

  “I was having a relaxed afternoon,” Zac grumbled. “Now I’m getting all uptight about tomorrow and that speech.”

  “But that’s the thing—you’re not giving a speech. You are simply explaining how a new program is going to work.” Brianna shook her dark head at him, her eyes twinkling. “It’s not a lecture, nor do you have to defend anything. You’re just explaining and you’ve done that with students for years. Haven’t you?”

  “Yes.” But admitting that fact did nothing to untie the knot in his midsection. So he turned the focus on her. “What did you think of the sermon today?”

  Brianna was quiet for so long Zac was ready to change the subject.

  “What the pastor said about friendship with God, that was interesting.” She averted her head and stared out the side window. “That God wants—even welcomes—frank honesty from us—I guess I’ve never thought that way. He said genuine friendship is built on disclosure. God wanting to be friends is a different perspective for me.”

  “Because you don’t like to think of God as a friend?” Zac found himself curious about the wan look filling her expressive eyes.

  “It’s not that. I guess I’ve never thought that it was perfectly okay to blurt out what you really feel. To anyone.”

  “That’s why you never told me about the problems between you and your mom.” Zac watched her shift and knew his guess was on target. “Because you had to hide your feelings?”

  “Because it was embarrassing. I didn’t want my friends to hear her rant.” She frowned. “I was raised that talk to God should be reverent. To think that it’s okay to tell Him you feel cheated or disappointed in Him, that’s odd to me.”

  “Do you feel cheated and disappointed?” Zac asked quietly.

  “Yes.” Brianna looked at him steadily. “Yes, I do.”

  “Why?” Zac recalled the minister’s words that a block to true friendship was often hidden anger or resentment.

  “I don’t understand why He doesn’t answer prayers, why He allows certain things. If I were God I would never let children die from starvation,” she said, her voice hard. “I wouldn’t let people who cause misery and suffering go scot-free and I wouldn’t make the innocent suffer. How can I build a friendship with God when He allows this?”

  Zac recalled the years after she’d jilted him and the months after that he’d wasted asking why. He’d drifted from God in the intervening years, but he’d finally learned to face himself and all his faults. The lesson had stuck. He was determined to share it now. Maybe, for once, he could be the one to help her.

  “Anger, frustration, bitterness—those kind of feelings are natural,” he assured her. “You, as a psychologist, must know that giving voice to them and releasing them is the first step toward healing. You were talking earlier about honesty. Isn’t it the ultimate honesty to tell God exactly how you feel?”

  “I suppose. But what good does it do?” she demanded. “It changes nothing.”

  “Not if you leave it at that.” Zac shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable with how personal this conversation was becoming. He wasn’t the kind of Christian that God used to help other people, but he couldn’t leave Brianna floundering in her anger.

  “So?” She frowned at him, waiting.

  “The thing is, you have to not only realize but also accept that God acts in your best interest, always, even when it’s painful and you don’t understand. The pastor said worship is about holding back nothing of what you feel. If God didn’t want to hear what we really thought, He wouldn’t have allowed Psalms to be in the Bible. It sounded like he was saying that expressing doubt is the first step to building a rapport with God.”

  The tip of Brianna’s pert nose scrunched up as if she thought he was full of hot air.

  “It’s a process, and I’m no expert,” Zac told her. “But He said that
every time you trust God’s wisdom and do as He asks in spite of your misgivings or lack of understanding, you make the relationship more real. So I guess it boils down to whether we are willing to trust Him or not.” Trust again. Something sadly lacking in his own life.

  “Trust?”

  “Yeah. Something I find hard to do.” He dredged his brain for the applications he’d studied ten years ago and still struggled to implement. “If we’re truly followers of Christ, we follow Him. Meaning we do as He asks. But not because we’re afraid of Him, or from guilt or fear of punishment, but because we love Him. And because we love, therefore we trust that He knows what’s best for us—in spite of our perceptions of the current state.”

  Brianna studied him through narrowed eyes.

  “What?” Zac felt his cheeks burn at the intense scrutiny. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Did you just hear yourself?” she said, a smile tipping her mouth at one corner. “You didn’t stutter or stammer or mess up your message. You got it out with clarity and conviction.”

  “I wasn’t speaking in public.”

  “What difference does that make? You were trying to get something across and you did it because you weren’t focused on yourself or how you felt, but on what you wanted me to understand.” She leaned forward, her face serious. “If you could just see yourself with the kids, Zac, you’d realize that you do the same thing with them. That’s why you’re such a great teacher.”

  “Thanks, but I’m nothing special.”

  “I give up,” Brianna said in frustration. “If you won’t see the gift you have, I can’t make you.”

  As he took the exit ramp that led to the mall they’d decided to visit, Zac considered Brianna’s words. The gift he had? That was Brianna the nurturer. But all the same, on the drive home he’d treat her to dinner and then ask her help with what he planned to say tomorrow. Maybe she could keep him from totally embarrassing himself in front of the entire school.

  And after that he was going to do some serious thinking about his spiritual relationship.

  * * *

  “I’ve got several things to pick up.” Brianna stood inside the mall doors, shifting uncomfortably under Zac’s scrutiny. “Shall we meet in a couple of hours?”

  They agreed on a time and a place then Brianna set off to collect the gifts she’d chosen for Cory. Fortunately the store had a clearance on the game system she’d planned to purchase, which allowed her to add a couple of the games that Cory was crazy about. She’d save those for Christmas gifts.

  Since Brianna completed her shopping well before the appointed time, she strolled through a quilt store, pretending to envision a new project. But in fact she couldn’t dislodge the picture of Zac’s face when he’d told her his thoughts on faith. She’d never seen such openness from him before. The strength of his convictions seemed so clear.

  Yet he still feared public speaking.

  Was part of that her fault? Because she’d left so quickly the morning of the wedding, she hadn’t considered what Zac would have to endure. The first thing she’d ever learned about Zac Ender was how much he hated being the focus of anything. She’d attributed that to the years he’d been a patient, with his mother and medical team constantly watching his every move. So to endure a year of gossip and ridicule while he taught must have been desperately difficult.

  She owed him an apology. She’d been so immersed in her own pain that day, she hadn’t realized how running away from the wedding would affect him.

  Brianna shuddered at the thought of harking back to the past again. Yes, she still resented Zac’s betrayal of their dreams, their future. It festered like a sore that had never really healed. How could he have given them up so easily? Why hadn’t God done something to stop it?

  But though she’d asked many times, God still gave no explanation.

  Brianna glanced at the clock in the window of a bookstore. Fifteen minutes until she joined Zac. Time enough to go in and see if there was something that could help her find answers to the soul-deep questions that plagued her. She added a devotional book she’d heard Cory mention the youth group using to his birthday gifts, but saw nothing for herself.

  “Please help me understand, God,” she begged under her breath in a desperate plea as she wandered between the shelves. Nothing. Too embarrassed to ask for help she decided to check out.

  “Is that everything for you?” the clerk asked.

  “Yes, thanks.” Brianna set her items on the counter, wishing that just this once God would have answered.

  “I hope you found what you needed,” the clerk said as she bagged the items. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. It’s just that we’ve got some new stock and I’m trying to get everything shelved before my boss comes in tomorrow morning.”

  “No problem.” Brianna hurried away, not wanting to keep Zac waiting. Maybe on the way home she could find an opportunity to apologize to him. Maybe if she did, she’d finally learn why he’d given up on their dreams.

  “You look like your mission was successful.” Zac took her packages. “Do you need more time? I could put these in the car.”

  “No, thanks. I’m finished.” She glanced around. “I could use a coffee, though.”

  “How about if we do the drive-through thing and take it to the park. It’s a gorgeous day.” Zac waited for her nod then walked with her to the car. “Hey, we could head out to see the hot-air balloons.” He pointed to a poster stuck to a light standard. “Today’s the last day of the festival.”

  Brianna drew on the hazy memory of an afternoon spent with Zac, watching the beauty of the multicolored balloons as he explained how the air filling them lifted the colorful balls with baskets attached high over the white gypsum dunes. Peaceful, relaxing. It was just the thing she needed on this Sunday afternoon.

  “I haven’t been out there in years,” she admitted. That long-ago Saturday had been one of a very few her mother had allowed her to take off from work at the store. She and Zac had left home early, spread a blanket on the hills and huddled together in the cool air to wait for that breathless moment of lift-off when the balloons became airborne.

  “Me, neither. Let’s go.” Zac hummed a tune as he loaded both their parcels in the back of his car.

  The crystal clarity of the atmosphere and the heat of the autumn sun offered the perfect opportunity to admire miles of the desert sky. They arrived and found their favorite spot. Brianna blinked at the quilt Zac dragged out of his car.

  “You’re still using this old thing?” she asked, fingering the threadbare corners she’d so painstakingly stitched for his Christmas gift in their senior year of college.

  “Quality never grows old,” he said with a wink and chuckled at her droll look.

  His laughter brought back so many memories of days they’d laughed and giggled, making the hours of studying so much fun. She’d forgotten the joy of those times, or maybe she’d let it get tarnished by anger and frustration. Now Brianna released that and resolved to enjoy the moment.

  As they sat on the hillside, she couldn’t stop taking little peeks at Zac as he sipped his coffee and watched balloons dot the horizon in front of them.

  “Tell me.” Zac pointed to the bold colors laid out in a panorama before them. “Did you ever see anything like that in Chicago?”

  “No.” She kept her head averted. “But Chicago had other assets.”

  “One of them being your husband, I suppose.” His voice dropped. “What was he like?”

  Zac sounded so—intense. Brianna risked a quick look at him, found him staring at her with those dark riveting eyes. His curiosity was probably as natural as hers was when she thought about all the years they’d been apart. It couldn’t hurt to tell him. In fact, the words came easily. Of all the betrayals, it was Craig’s that she found easiest to forgive.

 
“Craig was my friend, a real friend when I needed one most.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Actually I met him and Cory on the train in Las Cruces the day I left home. Craig wasn’t feeling well and poor Cory was teething. While Craig rested, I kept Cory entertained. He was such a cute baby. I felt so sad that his mom had died in childbirth. He never knew her.” Which was only part of the reason Brianna now felt such responsibility to ensure Cory got the love and support he needed. With Craig gone, there was only her.

  “Go on.” A tinge of diffidence underlay Zac’s voice.

  “Not much else to tell, really.” Brianna remembered the train trip as if it were yesterday. “As we traveled, we talked. Craig told me about a job in a friend’s office, another doctor. He helped me get it. He also helped me find a place to live once we arrived in Chicago. As thanks, I babysat for him. We got to know each other. A few months later I agreed to marry him.”

  “Why?” Zac’s mouth was tight.

  “Craig needed someone to help him with Cory.” She shook her head, a smile of regret clouding her memories. “I didn’t know at the time, but Craig was terminally ill with cancer. His treatment left him incapable of caring for Cory. We weren’t in love or anything. I agreed to marry him so I could look after Cory full time. He died a few months after we were married.”

  “I’m glad for Cory.” Zac’s voice emerged low and intense. “If not for you, who knows what would have happened to him. He’s very lucky you were willing to give up your life for him.”

  “It wasn’t exactly like that,” she said, brushing off his compliment. But in actual fact, it had been for the first while. “Of course, at first it was difficult. Cory had a tough time teething. There were a lot of late nights.”

  “It must have been hard for you to be widowed with an infant.” Zac touched her arm, his brown eyes soft with empathy. “Why didn’t you come home? Surely your parents could have helped.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Instantly Brianna’s soft memories hardened into a ball of resentment. She couldn’t speak for a moment, so great was her fury.