by Dora Hiers
Everlee shook her head. A heavy sigh lifted her chest, her gaze focused on the lake. When she finally spoke, it was as if she couldn’t hold the words back, her voice quivery at first but quickly gaining momentum. “I know exactly how it feels to be rejected and spurned by the one you love, Bristol. How fast they can turn on you and never once look back.”
“Did Gentry leave town again?” Already? Would Everlee be terribly upset with her if she tracked down the jerk and told him to grow up, that what he was seeking was right here in his own hometown, waiting for him to realize what he left behind?
Probably. No, definitely. And she wouldn’t appreciate her friend’s interference in her love life, either. Ha! What love life?
“No. He’s still here. But for how long? What’s stopping him from skipping town again?” Her head wagged from side to side and then she pierced Bristol with her gaze, confusion and uncertainty in her sad expression. “And if he does, I’ll have to pick up the pieces and go on again when everything in me wants to give up. On him. On love and a family.”
Everlee folded her arms over her chest and clamped her jaw. “We want the same things, Bristol. Love and family, a future with the men we love. I think I’m ready to fight for that. Because what’s the alternative? Can I just sit idly by while he walks again? Can we just walk away from them? Are you willing to give it all up because of a couple stinky toads?”
Was she willing to fight for Trace? Was he worth the risk of a crushed heart a second time? Or should she just give up all together?
****
Trace stepped up onto the front porch of Bristol’s cozy cottage, one block off Main Street in downtown Moondust Cove, thankful for the reprieve of heat from the early morning sun. Hopefully, she hadn’t moved out of the place since they’d dated.
He slid his gaze across the porch. A white Adirondack chair and matching loveseat were still tucked into the corner, protected from the sun by the shutters he’d built for her. On the left side of the door was another pair of the wood chairs. A basket with a mini pine tree perched on the table separating them. A strand of lights draped from the ceiling the entire width of the porch, and a green wreath dangled from the door.
Unless she’d left everything for a new tenant, she must still be living here. In all the time they’d dated, he was certain of one thing. Bristol didn’t like or appreciate change. So why had she switched schools?
Would she think he was crazy for showing up unannounced to invite her to church? Probably. But, after getting a glimpse of the raw pain still simmering from their breakup, he hadn’t been able to think of anything—or anyone—else since Thursday night.
He mashed the doorbell and angled his ear to listen for its chime. Another one of his projects on the old rundown cottage. She called it charming. He called it a gut job.
Footsteps padded across the wood floor on the other side of the door. When the curtain flickered at the edge of the window, doubt assaulted him. Would she let him in? Or tell him to take a hike?
Several long beats later, the door swung open.
“Hey.” Her voice came out morning soft. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed in a pair of running shorts and a tank. Sweat glistened along her arms.
“Good morning.” He held up the tray. A paper bag dangled from his hand too. “May I come in?”
“Uh, sure.” She stepped back and gestured for him to enter the cottage. “I was just heading up to take a shower after my run.”
He blinked and swallowed, trying hard to dispel that image. Forgive me, Lord. Help me to keep my thoughts pure and for me to remember the reason I’m here.
“I brought coffee and your favorite breakfast.”
She snatched the bag and peered inside. Her eyes closed as she inhaled. Then her gaze whipped to him, joy curving her lips. “Chocolate croissants. Thank you, Trace. It’s been so long since I’ve had one of these. I’m surprised that you remembered.”
“I remember a lot of things about you.”
The smile wilted into a look of pain, and a lump worked its way down her silky throat. He hated that he’d caused it.
“Can you spare a few minutes to eat before your shower? And I was hoping to persuade you to come to church with me this morning.” Might as well put it all out there. Give her a chance to shoot him down. But, at least, he could show her that he’d changed. That he wasn’t the same man as two years ago.
She tilted her head to stare at him. “Church?”
He nodded, silently praying for her to say yes.
“Will your family be there?”
Did she feel safer with his brothers and Gramps and Ellie as a buffer? “Not sure about Gentry, but the rest of them should be there including Trip.” If his son didn’t hit the snooze button one too many times.
After a few beats of hesitation, she agreed. “Okay. I’d like that.”
“Great.” He followed her into the kitchen, just a few paces past the great or not-so-great room. A space barely big enough to hold a sofa with an attached chaise and a couple end tables, and that was it. The kitchen wasn’t much larger, and the eat-in part consisted of a couple bar stools at the island.
He unloaded the coffees and plunked down on a stool while she washed her hands at the sink. After she turned off the faucet, water continued to trickle. Not the persistent annoying drops, but a steady stream.
She opened a cabinet and took out a couple plates then sat down next to him.
He held out his hand, palm up, a repeat of Thursday night before dinner. She automatically slid her hand against his, and he uttered a short prayer of thanksgiving.
After the amen, she flashed a shy look at him, took a bite of the pastry and moaned. “Ohhhh.”
She’d always been so easy to please. Every other ex-girlfriend had expected fancy restaurants and expensive gifts. Bristol was happy with chocolate croissants and gifts of his time, mostly spent fixing things around this place to make it more functional.
His voice didn’t want to cooperate and came out scratchy. “Good?”
“Better than good.” She hummed her contentment.
He took a sip of the coffee and decided watching her was better than eating. Besides, he’d devoured one on the way here, fretting over whether to show up on her doorstep or call first.
From the look of pleasure on her face as she licked each of her fingers, guess he’d made the right choice.
She sighed and patted her belly. “That filled the empty spot. Thank you. What time does your church start?”
He glanced at his phone screen. “In forty-five minutes, but no need to hurry. It’s a short drive from here.”
“Oooh. I better get in the shower, then. I’ll be quick.” She eased off the stool and reached for her plate.
He stopped her with a gentle touch over her arm. “Leave these. I’ll take care of them.” That would give him a chance to check out the leaky faucet.
“Or you could just leave them in the sink. I can get them later. Make yourself at home.” She waved over a shoulder as she hurried toward one of two bedrooms on the main level.
Make himself at home? Okay, then. First up, checking out that faucet.
5
Sandwiched between Trip and Trace and the rest of the row taken up by the Tomlinson family, Bristol had a tough time focusing on the pastor’s message. The passage that he’d quoted from memory near the beginning of his sermon still replayed over and over in her head.
Nothing could separate a person from God’s love. Nothing. Not death or life. Angels or demons. Today or tomorrow. Height or depth. Nothing. And all because of Jesus.
It was a passage in Romans that she planned to look up later at home. In her mother’s Bible, one of the few things she’d grabbed when her stepdad ordered her out of the only home she’d ever known.
She still wasn’t sure what to make of Trace’s last-minute invitation to church. What had prompted him? Was Everlee right about him wanting to get back together? Or was he just trying to make amends for Thursday
night?
Everyone across the sanctuary rose to their feet, snapping her out of her thoughts. Beautiful music filled the space, and voices joined as one in worship.
She closed her eyes and let the words of the song penetrate her heart. Need. Mercy. Undeserving. Glorious grace. Longing. Worthy. More glorious grace.
Glorious grace. What did that mean exactly? Maybe Frank kicking her out of her own home had been a blessing instead of a curse. Because, if he hadn’t, she might never have met Debbie, her counselor turned friend. She might never have realized her calling of helping other students just like her.
What if, instead of abandoning her like she’d thought all these years, God had been looking out for her all along? Guiding her to the Porters. While the elderly couple hadn’t exactly been overly affectionate, they had opened their home and their hearts. Along with Debbie, they had encouraged her to reach for her dreams, their kind words healing and nurturing. So different from Frank’s daily “you’re just a piece of trash.”
Was that glorious grace?
So lost was she in the music, she didn’t realize that people were filing out of the sanctuary until Trace put a hand against the small of her back and leaned close to whisper. “You okay?”
Her lashes fluttered up, heavy from the tears sticking like glue. She swiped at her face and looked around the vacant row, a bit of panic swelling in her chest. “I’m fine. But your family. Did they leave already?”
“They’re outside waiting for us. They didn’t want to disturb you.”
Oh. Embarrassment heated her cheeks and neck. “I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t—”
Shaking his head, he circled her arms with his fingers and gave her a gentle look. “No reason to be sorry, Bristol. I think I might’ve reacted the same way my first time back in church.”
“It’s been too long.” Why had she stopped? The Porters had insisted she attend church with them, and her mother had always gone. Remorse swamped her. Forgive me, Lord.
She took a shaky breath as they walked toward the exit. “Is it always the same for you?”
“You mean that sense of awe?”
She nodded.
“I’d like to say it is, but…” He lifted a shoulder. “Some days you just have other things cluttering up your head. But when I really focus on the message and the worship, the Lord really gets through to me.”
“When did you start going to church?”
He cast a shy sideways glance at her. “Shortly after we broke up.”
Oh. Huh.
He pushed the exit door open and gestured for her to go first. She walked outside, pausing until her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, letting his words sink in. “Why then?”
His chest lifted with a heavy sigh. “I felt a little lost. Mannix and Gramps had been going for a few years. I—”
Trip came walking up to them, his facial expression alternating between scowl and grin. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Dad. Thought you slipped out without letting me know about lunch plans. I’m glad you came, Ms. Owens.”
Trace chuckled. “Always thinking about your next meal.”
“Gotta feed the beast.” Trip patted his belly.
“Hey, guys. Where’s everyone going for lunch?” Mannix joined them, followed by Gramps, as the man had insisted she call him, and his bride Ellie.
Trace leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Sorry. My family can be a bit overwhelming.”
She smiled, thinking of all the years she’d longed for a brother or sister. “I think they’re wonderful.”
“Then you’ll join us?”
“Join you…oh, for lunch?”
He nodded, his smile a blend of doubt and hope.
“Sure.” But then they’d need to talk.
Because if this was just a pathetic attempt to make him feel better about breaking up with her, she’d shut him down today. It had taken her months to pick up the pieces. She couldn’t go through that again.
****
Bristol fit right in with his rambunctious family. How had he not seen that before?
Probably because he’d never really introduced her to them back then. He’d stopped bringing his girlfriends home to meet his family…well, after his parents and sister died.
It just didn’t seem right to introduce them to Gramps and his brothers, who used to tease him without mercy. Besides, there had been a long string of them. Why bother?
Remorse walloped him. How could he have been so heartless? Especially to someone like Bristol.
Just then, she turned from her conversation with Ellie, a few seats separating them at the long table, and smiled at him. A smile so sweet and so hopeful it wrenched and twisted his heart.
“She’s a keeper that one.” Gramps, in typical Gramps fashion, even though he sat right next to Trace, spoke loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear.
Heads turned in their direction, including Bristol’s. Her eyes were as wide and skittish as a doe’s.
He winked at her and smiled, speaking through gritted teeth. “Gramps, do you think you could hold it down a notch? You’re embarrassing her.”
“The only one who should be embarrassed is you, son, for not bringing her around sooner.”
Wait…how did Gramps know? He almost choked on the bite of pizza. “What are you talking about?”
“Mannix said you two dated a few years back. What happened?”
He huffed and dropped the wedge back on the plate, his appetite gone. “I was stupid.”
“Well, are you still stupid or have you smartened up since then?”
“I think I’ve wised up since then. I’m not dating until after Trip graduates.”
“So, what do you call this?” Confusion wrinkling his leathered face, Gramps rubbed his jaw with one hand and waved a finger between Trace and Bristol with the other.
“We’re just…friends.” Friends. But, honestly, didn’t some part of him still wish for more? But he couldn’t allow anything beyond friendship. It had taken too long to get custody of Trip to blow it now by focusing on another relationship that was doomed to fail. “She’s helping me and Trip to navigate our new family dynamic.”
“Navigate your new family dynamic?” Gramps scoffed and looked at Trace as if he’d just landed on the planet. “What the heck is that?”
“Well, I’ve never been a full-time parent, and Trip—”
“Loves you. Always has. And you love him. That’s all you need.” Gramps leaned in close and lowered his voice. Finally. “Look, son. When your parents died, I hadn’t been a full-time parent in years, and suddenly three grieving teenage boys landed on my doorstep. I was too busy keeping you boys busy and fed that I didn’t have time to worry about family dynamics. You shouldn’t either. And you definitely shouldn’t be setting any rules for yourself about not dating. Your son would want you to be happy, same as what I want for you. And if you’re happy, don’t you think that’ll trickle down?”
Wow. Gramps didn’t usually dish out advice. He mostly ordered them around on the job, but since Ellie had claimed more of his attention, he’d been scarce at the office.
Wait a minute! “So, why didn’t you remarry until this summer, Gramps?”
The older man chuckled. “You have one boy. I had three. Back then I just didn’t have the time or energy. But if I had, I’d have snatched that sweet woman up years ago.” His gaze settled on his bride for a few seconds. When he glanced back at Trace, love glowed from his face. “Being a parent is wonderful, Trace, don’t get me wrong. But one day soon Trip will be grown and on his own, and you’ll be all alone. Will you regret not having someone to share your life with? Will you regret not having more children?”
He broke loose from Gramps’s invisible hold to glance at Bristol. Countless times since their breakup, he’d dreamed about life with her. Coming home from work and discussing their days over a glass of iced tea on the back deck. Waking up to that smooth ivory face every morning and falling asleep with her wrapped in
his arms, her warm kisses still tingling his lips and heating his body. What their kids would look like. Would they have a boy or a girl or both? Of course, their offspring would have brown hair like them, but would they have green or coffee colored eyes? Would they want to work in the family business or would they, like Bristol, follow their passion for helping others?
But they were only dreams. Real life didn’t work that way. When his parents and sister died, Gramps was forced to take them in. When Kendra refused to marry him, she’d robbed him of the joys of being a full-time dad. What if Bristol got pregnant and left him? He’d never forgive himself for fathering another child and not being there for them.
After swallowing hard, he lifted his chin. “That’s just it, Gramps. Love strips away your choices.”
“Love doesn’t do any such thing, son. Kendra might’ve stolen them from you. But true love gives. It doesn’t take away. And you shouldn’t judge Bristol because of what another woman did to you.”
The truth clobbered him with as much force as if someone walloped him in the gut with a two by four.
True love gives. It doesn’t take away.
All these years of judging women guilty because of Kendra. All these years of blaming his mom and his sister for killing his dad. If not for his mom deciding they would go to Maddy’s beauty pageant over Gentry’s game, they’d still be alive.
Oh, Lord, forgive me. Cleanse me of the bitterness and resentment that’s festered all this time. Open my heart to love again. True love. The kind that gives and doesn’t take away.
6
“I don’t know what to make of it, Debbie.” Bristol swung her gaze back to the television hanging above the stone fireplace. A chick flick was frozen on the screen.
They wouldn’t finish this movie. Not that it wasn’t good, but some weeks they got to talking and time got away from them.
After working more than thirty years as a high school counselor, Debbie had retired from the school system last summer. The woman wasn’t just a colleague, though. Debbie was her dearest friend, her mentor. The angel who’d literally stepped in to save her life after Frank tried to destroy it.
