I started pulling things forward and making sure we had our stuff in stock. Once in awhile, I pulled from the back when I was working, but for the most part that’s the previous girl’s job to do that. After a couple hours of straightening, I headed back toward the counter to just wait for people. The store looked really good already. This was the point where my mind would start churning about crap. I’d start thinking about my family, my church, and my lack of a husband. It got on my nerves. I’d rather be busy doing something than be thinking about that kind of stuff. The door dinged and in walked Jacob Whitmen. Jacob hates crafts. Why the heck was he here except to bother me? I put on my good girl Christian face. I really try not to bite his head off, but it’s hard sometimes. He came right up to the counter and smiled at me.
“Hi Zoe-Poey.”
Ah! Can’t this guy just call me by my name? Zoe. It’s not that hard!
“Hi, Jacob,” I said and really wished some random child would knock over a stack of cans, so I could excuse myself from this conversation.
“You busy after work today?” he asked and put his arms on the counter to look sexy maybe? I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t get out until ten. I’m going to be exhausted after work.”
“Oh, okay. I just figured maybe we could grab an ice-cream or a coffee after you got out.” He gave me one of his famous greasy smiles.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass this time,” I said and nodded to him. I slipped out from behind the counter to go to the back to do something. Really I was just hiding from him, but he didn’t need to know that. I got a glimpse of his face as I practically ran. It was mean of me I know. I’m sorry! I just can’t stand to be around him sometimes. He’s so pushy! I feel like he’s trying to shove a wedding ring on my finger, and I’m just standing there screaming, “NOOOO!” at his face. He doesn’t take the hint that I’m not interested in him! Period!
After I figured he’d probably left, I snuck back out of the backroom. I couldn’t be away too long. No one was running the register. I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no one in the store. I went back to the counter and let my mind wander again. This time it dwelled on Branson. Why did it always go back to Branson? Who was he? Where had he come from? He must be someone who just moved into town. Or he’d just started frequently buying milk.
Next, my mind wandered to my novel. How was I going to find her happy ending? I’d tried so many times to give it to her, but it always failed. Like my life. I could not go down that hole here at work. I wouldn’t start thinking about all the disappointments I’d had. If I started thinking of that, I probably would just want to curl up in a ball and cry. That would be awkward.
The door dinged, and in walked Branson, toting his baby in his arms. He was bouncing her up and down and singing. He had an amazing voice, even though he was singing Old McDonald Had A Farm. He saw me watching him and waved his hand. The baby waved her little hand along with him.
“Say hi to Zoe, Bree! We are here for our milk!” He raced over to the milk section making Bree squeal with laughter. He ran back toward me and stopped suddenly, making Bree’s curls fly around her round face. She squealed again and clapped her hands.
“Dadadada…” she said with a drooly smile. She was wearing a purple tutu and a sparkly lion shirt.
“Did you need anything else tonight?” I asked all professional like.
“Nope! Just milk!” Branson said with a cheerful look in his eyes. I rang up the milk, and he handed me his card. I slid it through, watching him sing to Bree. She made her lips into an O, and it sounded like she said moo. Branson’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Wow! New word, Bree Bree! Moo!” He grabbed his milk and gave me a smile.
“Did you just move here, Branson?” I asked as he kissed Bree’s neck.
“No, I’ve lived around the area for awhile. About five years now.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“I better get going, gotta get this little squirt to bed. It was nice seeing you again, Zoe.” He flashed me a warm smile and headed out the door. I watched him leave, a little mystified. There was something about that guy that kept tugging at me.
***
Sunlight streamed through my window, and I blinked. It was Wednesday, and I was super glad. I had Wednesdays off, so that meant a lazy day. I rolled back over. I didn’t really have to get up just yet. I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about Branson and his quick stop at the store. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I was so stupid sometimes. I laughed at myself and pushed my feet out of bed. I did one of those quick glances in the mirror, but I didn’t feel like looking half way decent right now. I just wanted coffee at the moment. Once I had my coffee, maybe I’d go outside for a nice walk. It was still fairly warm outside in Northern Michigan. You never know with our weather. Like we always say, if you’re not happy with the weather, wait five minutes. I shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen.
My mom had a pot of coffee already brewed and yummy looking muffins all set out like Betty Crocker. My mom is awesome. I fumbled for a mug in our cupboard and managed to snag my Batman mug. Mia gave it to me last year for Christmas, and it’s my favorite mug. I’m a Batman freak. Something about a man in a mask… I let that thought trail off into a sleepy smile. I didn’t see my mom or dad, but figured they were out running around somewhere. My parents run on high gear all the time. With a church of 500, they never slowed down once. I never saw it really wear on them, besides my mom getting snippy from time to time with my dad.
I poured myself a mug full of coffee, poured in some vanilla creamer, and added a butt load of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. I shuffled toward the couch and grabbed my laptop on the way. I opened Facebook and browsed until I got bored as I drank my coffee. Jacob posted something weird that I had to read twice. Something about through God all things were possible, and some challenge he was facing. If he was talking about me, I think it would take a lightning bolt for me to change. Mia had posted some random pictures of her kids eating ice-cream. I smiled as I kept browsing.
After an hour of wasting my life on Facebook, I went to Microsoft Word to stare at my book again. I wrote a few sentences and erased them. Then wrote a few more and backspaced again. There was just something about the ending of this book that just wasn’t there. I had the perfect plot, the set up was great, but I just couldn’t seem to give her a happy ending. I growled under my breath.
“What’s the matter, Zoe?” Dad asked as he sat down in the chair across from me, his coffee in hand. Dad liked it black. It fit his personality. Strong and bitter. Crap, I shouldn’t think stuff like that about my dad. He did come off a little strong 99% of the time. He must have been in his office.
“Oh, just not feeling very inspired to finish my book.” I took a drink of my coffee and felt my stomach clench. I didn’t really want to talk to my dad about my book. In his eyes I felt like I failed at everything. So the fact that I couldn’t even finish a stupid book, made it worse.
“I need to discuss something with you, Zoe,” he said and set his coffee on the end table. Uh oh. Anytime my dad said the word ‘discuss’ it was something much more serious than if I wanted pizza for dinner.
“Okay,” I said, still feeling sleepy. I’d barely had one cup of coffee. I needed a few hours before I was actually semi-functional.
“Your mother and I have been praying a lot for you and your future.” He folded his hands.
“You have?” I asked and shifted nervously on the couch. I could feel the lecture coming any moment now. Steel yourself, Zoe.
“Zoe, your mother and I think it’s time for you to start courting.” He got that pastor look in his eye. The one that was a non-discussion type of look.
I leaned forward, interested. Why was my dad talking about this now?
“Yeah? Well, Dad, God hasn’t spoken to me to marry anyone yet.” He knew this. Why would he bring it up? I watched his face for a sign.
“The Lord has spoken to my hear
t about who your husband is. I was in prayer with your mother over a year ago, and I heard it clear as can be.” He gave me half a smile. It was a good attempt anyways.
Now I was really interested. God told my dad who my husband was? Who? I was dying to know. Sign me up!
“We’ve felt unctioned by the Holy Spirit that this man was your husband before that even. We just have felt like you have been blinded from the truth.”
Was my dad going to tell me, or was I going to have to guess? There really weren’t any guys in our church that seemed my type. There were a few that were okay. I mean anyone was better than Jacob.
“If God told you, please tell me, Dad.”
“Zoe, you’ve been living in disobedience to God for well over a year. It’s hard to watch you wallow in your sin because you won’t listen to the voice of God concerning your husband. We were waiting for you to hear it all on your own, but I feel like it’s my job as your pastor and your father to lead you out of this sin.” He gave a stern nod of his head.
The words struck me straight in the heart. What did he mean? I loved God. I went to church, I read my Bible, I prayed every single day. How was I living in sin?
“Dad…” I said and tears gathered in my eyes.
“Zoe, I have heard the Lord tell me that Jacob Whitmen is the man you are supposed to marry,” he said.
All breath left my lungs. I felt like choking as I looked at my father in absolute horror. Jacob? He thought I was supposed to marry Jacob? God told him Jacob was my husband? The shock of my dad’s words ripped me up one side and down the other.
“No…” I stuttered, not knowing what else to say. My dad’s face turned beat red. He clasped his hands together, and I could tell he was trying really hard not to explode.
“Are you questioning if I heard the Lord, Zoe?” He stood to his feet and pointed his finger at my chest. “The Lord wants you to marry that man! He’s a good and faithful servant who will serve the Lord mightily all his days! Besides, Zoe, you are running out of time,” he said roughly and walked out of the room.
I stared at his retreating back and felt a big ball of anger explode in my stomach. I had done everything right. I tithed, I worshiped, I prayed, I was a perfect Christian in my eyes. What had I done wrong? Did God really want me to marry Jacob? Was I missing it? I ran upstairs at that point and flung myself onto my bed. I lay curled up, sobbing into my pillow. I was a failure. Everything in my life led to nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t marry that guy. He was disgusting on every turn. Was my dad right though? Was I in rebellion? Was God mad at me? I started crying again at the thought.
Chapter 5
I went to work the next day with puffy eyes from crying. I hate that. Every time I cry my face off, I look like Rocky. Luckily, the store was super duper slow. As I waited for anyone to show up at this crappy store, I flipped through a magazine. My attitude was getting worse and worse today. I didn’t say anything to my parents before I left this afternoon. My dad was studying, and my mom was preparing for the ladies event she was running on Friday.
Was God really angry at me for simply thinking about that guy? I started going down that path. You know the one that is a big, dark, sucking hole. Yeah. That one. I was fighting back tears by the time the bell above the door rang. And guess what. In walked Branson. He was only toting one kid again this time. The little baby. He bounced her up and down in his arms, singing a silly song about a rabbit.
“Hi, Zoe! Oh, Bree Bree, do you remember Zoe?” he said in a baby voice as he blew kisses on his little girl’s neck. She giggled and clapped her hands.
“Dadada,” she babbled, drool dripping down her chin. It dropped onto Branson’s black shirt that accented his well toned chest. Ah! I’m doing it again! I mentally blocked out his good looks. But dang that was hard.
“Oh!” Branson wiped the drool from his shirt. He flashed me a smile as he walked toward the milk section and grabbed a gallon. That man sure liked his milk. He came to the register and set Bree on the counter. She reached for these weird fuzzy things that were sitting there. I don’t know what they are, but they are fuzzy, and they have eyeballs that wiggle. She started putting them in her mouth when Branson grabbed them. She looked at him and then grabbed at his shirt. “Daddda,” she said over and over. She was so cute! Oh my word!
“Where are your other kids today?” I asked warmly, ringing up his milk for him.
“They are at Mommy’s house,” he said, and I could hear a weird tone take over his voice. Mommy’s house? As in he’s divorced or…? I was trying to read this man, but it was hard.
“Yup. One of those guys.” He pointed to himself. “Thank God Jesus forgives!” he said with a laugh. He swooped his baby girl off the counter and swiped his card.
“Yeah…if you work for it,” I mumbled under my breath and finished ringing him up.
“Hey, I know this is really forward…but would you like to go to coffee sometime? Minus the munchkins?” he asked, and holy cow he had an awesome smile.
Say yes, and give him your number, a quiet voice said. I felt my heart race. My dad would not approve. God would not approve. But, I was already heading down the wrong path dad said, so…
“Yeah, that’d be awesome. I’ll give you my number.” I ripped off a piece of register tape and wrote my cell phone number on it. My heart was pounding.
“I’ll give you a call soon!” he said, and he galloped out of the store with Bree. What the heck did I just do? I slapped my hand over my mouth and let out a huge breath. I was going to die. Why did I give some sex-a-holic man my number! I was an idiot! He probably just knocked up ho’s and toted their kids around to attract other dumb girls like me!
I felt something in my stomach lurch. What if my parents found out about Branson? I would be put on display in front of the whole church and publically shamed. It’d happened before. One girl had gotten pregnant in the youth group outside of marriage, and my dad had put her up front and rebuked her in front of everyone. He thought he was saving her soul, but she’d never come back again. I was hyperventilating.
Something had nudged me to give him my number. Like…a voice. Was that a voice? Or was that me? I’d heard, give him your number. Was I going crazy? It had sounded like God’s voice! Was that why I’d given it to Branson? Luckily it was closing time. I shut everything down and locked the door, still trying to figure out how in the world this was going to work out.
It could never be anything. He had kids. He wasn’t a virgin. He was sullied merchandise. I had never even kissed a boy. Ever. Try waiting to kiss until you’re 26, see how that goes for ya. I slipped into my car and strapped in. Worship music blasted from my stereo, and I turned it down. I was going on a date with a heathen. Crap.
***
I woke up to the sound of my mom rummaging around the house. I stirred restlessly and thought about Branson again. Why had I given that guy my number! I kept going back to the voice I’d heard. What if it was God’s? Was there a reason He wanted me to go to coffee with Branson? A knock came to my door, and my mom stuck her head in.
“Sweetie, the ladies meeting starts at noon today. I’ll see you there.” She briskly walked away. I could almost hear the list of things she had to do, running in her head. That’s right; I had that boring meeting to go to. They did serve some delicious food at it at least. That was one perk about it. I took a shower, got dressed, and blow dried my hair. I straightened it and added some bling jewelry to my simple black dress. I put on a pair of strappy silver high heels that accented my legs nicely. It didn’t hurt to look half-way decent.
I went downstairs and glanced at the clock. 11:25. I would swing over to Mia’s and just wait for her in the car. I texted her before I left, so she wouldn’t be surprised to see me sitting in her driveway. Mia only lived like a block away, so I pulled up at 11:27 and sat there reading Facebook on my phone. After five minutes, she came bustling out in a stunning, strapless, purple dress, and black pumps that looked painful. Her hair was hanging down
her back in waves, and her makeup looked awesome. Wow. She really went all out for this thing. She got into my car and grinned at me.
“Ready?” she asked, setting her purse down next to her.
“You look like you’re going to a fashion show, Mia. You look great!” I said as I pulled out of her driveway.
“Well, a girl’s gotta wipe puke off her once in awhile and actually feel like a woman.” She cast a snide look at her house. “Tomas wanted me to skip it and go with him and the kids to the store. I was like, no way jose! I love those little cheesecakes your mom always makes.” Mia continued to chatter about whatever as we pulled into the church parking lot. I tended to tune her out at times. She would just keep going until I passed out. We headed inside toward our children’s area, where we usually had all our get-togethers. There were a few other cars in the parking lot, but we were still 20 minutes early. A couple other ladies were talking in little groups. I spotted my mom rushing about, preparing last minute things.
“Isn’t that mixer thing tonight with Pastor Mike? Didn’t you say you were going to that too, Zoe?” Mia asked. Dang it! I had almost forgotten about that. If she hadn’t reminded me, I would have just used the excuse that it had slipped my mind.
“Thanks for the reminder, Mia,” I dryly said, sitting down at one of the round tables, that had tiny mints in these little paper shoes. Who took the time to make paper shoes? They were really cute.
“Check it out.” I held one up to my best friend. Pretty soon the meeting was starting. My mom stood up and prayed over the food, we all ate, and then a lady with a graying bun and a librarian-like face stood up.
“I have felt the Lord press on my heart to talk about marriage. I know most of us are married in the room.”
Except me. Yeah. I was the only single girl I think in the room. Way to make me feel great. I frowned slightly as the lady kept going. Her name was Mrs. Hudson. Her favorite subject was marriage and how God had created us to be slaves for men. She didn’t really say that, but that’s all I tended to hear come from her lips. She seemed to just brag on and on about how perfect of a wife she was, and how we all should live up to her. I tuned her out most the time and just watched Mia’s face. Mia was turning red with rage.
Grace Alive: a Christian Romance Page 3
