She opened the door and stood aside so he could enter. Might’ve been because she hadn’t seen him, but he looked more handsome than normal in beige walking shorts and a black polo shirt. She felt the adrenaline surge she always felt around him. There was never a doubt about that—she was attracted to him.
He stood within inches after she closed the door. “You don’t return my calls. I had to bang on the door to get you to answer. Is that where we are now?”
Libby frowned at him. “Excuse me? You’re the one who left the reunion with an attitude, acting like you didn’t want anything more to do with me.”
“You were wrong, Libby.” He was matter-of-fact. “You invited me to come, but only as a pawn in some game you were playing with Travis.”
“I wasn’t playing a game,” Libby said. “I was just . . . I don’t know what I was doing.” She looked at him. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.”
A brow went up. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said.
“What were you expecting? Why did you come?”
“Like I said, I was worried.” His voice was tender. “And you know I couldn’t stay mad at you.” He caressed her face. “I missed you.”
She moved around him, from the entryway to the dining area, her heart palpitating. This was the Friday night norm she’d been missing the last two weeks, she and Omar spending time together . . . spending the night together.
“Did you eat already?” he asked. “I almost brought some carryout, but I didn’t know if you’d be here. I can go back out and get us something.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I have leftovers from last night.”
“From where?”
“From here. I cooked.”
“You cooked?” His voice was full of doubt. He went straight to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “This here?” He pulled out a covered dish, put it on the counter, and took the top off. “It looks good. What is it?”
She felt proud. “A chicken and linguine casserole my aunt taught me how to make.” She smiled. “Turned out pretty good too.”
He smiled back. “Are you game for me to try it? I am starving, by the way.”
“Then how can I refuse?”
They prepared two plates, warmed them in the microwave, and took them to the dining room table. She let him take the first bite as she watched.
He pointed at the plate with his fork. “So you said your aunt made this?”
“I said I made it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
He scooped another forkful. “It’s delicious, whether you made it or not. But if you really made it, I’m big impressed.”
Her head did a slight bow. “Thank you.”
Inside she was thrilled. Couldn’t wait to call Aunt Gwynn and tell her that her step-by-step directions—which for Libby were broken down to half-step by half-step—had actually worked. Beautifully.
They continued with the meal over small talk. Libby even mentioned her trip to New Jersey to see family, but without going into detail.
Omar gestured toward the other end of the table. “So what were you working on before I got here? You’ve got a lot of books over there.”
“Yeah. Bible, concordance, word study dictionary . . . I’m doing some digging. Learning about God, me, life . . .”
“What brought that on?”
“I think a lot of things jump-started it.” Libby had asked herself that question and didn’t know where to begin. “But the culmination came on that trip to Jersey. Long talks with my family, visiting their church . . . I feel like I’m on this expedition, trying to see what I find.”
“I think it’s cool to tap into your spiritual side.” He picked up their plates and carried them into the kitchen. “Maybe some of it’ll rub off on me.”
When he returned, he lifted her by the hand and looked into her eyes. “Why don’t I get us a glass of wine and we can relax in the bedroom, maybe watch a movie.” He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist. “And after the movie, I’ll let you know my other ideas for the night.”
Her skin tingled with a yes. She’d missed him. Maybe her feelings for him were more than she thought.
He kissed her, and she was intoxicated with the feeling it gave her . . . until her mind carried it through to her bedroom and waking up beside him tomorrow morning, and how that would make her feel. That wasn’t what she wanted, a momentary thrill that ultimately meant nothing. She couldn’t explain why. It just wasn’t. Not anymore.
“Omar, I can’t.”
He kissed the side of her lips. “Can’t what?”
She took a step back. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“I understand if you’re tired.” He held her fingertips. “But you’ve still got to relax. What if we at least start the movie? If you fall asleep, you fall asleep.”
His words and his touch pulled her in again. She didn’t want to be alone. But was this the type of companionship she yearned for?
She took a big breath. If she didn’t do it right now, she wouldn’t do it.
Libby walked away from him to the door. “Omar, you have to go.”
His brow creased. “You’re saying I can’t even stay with you? I told you, Libby, I understand if you don’t want to—” He stopped. “Are you gaming me again? Some other guy is on his way over here?”
“No,” Libby said.
He came closer. “Then what’s going on? The way you kissed me, I know there’s still something there.”
“It’s this journey I’m on,” she said. “I want to be focused. If I let my heart and soul get distracted, I might miss what I’m really after, though I’m not even sure what that is.”
“If you want to know the truth, you seem confused.”
Libby smiled faintly. “I know. That’s my aim, to clear it up.” She opened the door.
“Call me when you’re done with all your digging.”
She nodded. “Bye, Omar.”
Libby returned to the table, heaving a heavy sigh. Turning back to where she was, she continued reading in the book of Romans. She’d always been fascinated watching legal arguments on Court TV. Who’d have thought that the apostle Paul making his case for the gospel could be as riveting?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Friday, September 17
Charley sat lotus style on Marcus and Travis’s living room floor, eating pizza and laughing while arguing her point. Marcus had invited her to join the informal Bible study he’d been doing with Travis, and this was their third meeting.
“It is not stupid.” She pushed Marcus’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you never heard it.”
“Good, better, best . . .” Marcus looked at her. “Wait, say it again.”
“No, ‘cause you think it’s dumb.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never heard it either,” Travis said. Across from them, his back propped against the sofa, he chugged some of his Coke. “I think I learned that, like, in kindergarten. ‘Good, better, best, never let it rest; until your good is better and your better is best.’”
“Oh, now I get it,” Marcus said. “You both learned it in school. It’s a Hope Springs ditty.”
“Are you making fun?” Charley sat up straight, fists on her hip. “I’ll have you know we learned only the best here in Hope Springs. For example, I know your statement just now was factually incorrect because a ‘ditty’ is a song. ‘Good, better, best’ is a maxim. So there.”
“All right, my Hope Springs homie.” Travis leaned over and gave her a fist bump. “And a fist bump for the point you were making before Marcus interrupted too.”
“What?” Marcus raised his hands in defense. “I can’t help it if it struck me as funny. And it could be a ditty, like this.” His head started bopping playfully side to side. “Good, better best, never let it rest, until your good is better and your better is best.”
“Hey, that was pretty funky. But you still get a”—she
pushed him again—“because you were making fun.”
“Okay, class, settle down.” Travis chuckled as he looked down at his Bible. “That was good, Charley, because that’s what Paul is saying right here. We may be doing ‘good’ in certain areas, but we could always do better. Right? And we have in our sights before us what’s best—the example of Jesus Christ. So when he says of pleasing God that we ought to ‘excel still more,’ he’s saying we should always be moving from the good to the better toward what’s best.”
Marcus gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, when you put it that way, the maxim fits really well.” He gave Charley the side-eye. “And I’m curious how you’d apply the good, better, best to the verses that follow.”
“I’m not surprised you’re curious.” Travis gave him the eye. “Isn’t it interesting that after Paul speaks generally of ‘excelling’ in our Christian walk, the first subject he hits is abstaining from sexual immorality?” He looked at Marcus. “You tell me how you can apply it. Give me a scenario that would be good, then how that same scenario could be better, then how you could excel still more in it.”
Charley took a bite of her slice of pepperoni, more than interested in what he would say.
Marcus thought a moment. “Okay. If Charley and I brought carryout to the house and you weren’t home, and we ate and talked on the sofa and . . . kissed but didn’t go further, that would be good.”
Travis glanced between them. “Is this theoretical or historical?”
“I plead the fifth,” Marcus said. “Better would be if we ate in the kitchen and talked at the table, to avoid possible . . . you know.”
“Yes,” Travis said. “Definitely moving upward.”
“Excel-still-more would be if we realized we didn’t need to be alone, so she only came over when our pastor was home, and on top of that we did a Bible study.”
“Ding, ding, ding,” Travis said. “And we have a winner.”
Charley laughed, though she was a little red-faced remembering that moment on the sofa.
“Seriously,” Travis said, “you two are going hard after ‘excel still more.’ You’re making tactical decisions that show how serious you are about keeping the Lord at the—”
They all looked toward the entryway when a knock sounded and the door opened.
“What’s up, man?” Travis said. “Come on in.”
“Hi, Todd,” Charley said.
“Hey, Todd, you should join us,” Marcus said. “We’d be taking good to better to double best with both of you.”
Todd’s smile showed his confusion. “What exactly did I walk into?”
“A Friday night Bible study,” Travis said. “We’re in I Thessalonians 4.” He patted the floor. “Have a comfy seat, grab a slice, and jump in.” He smiled up at him. “Unless you actually had a reason for stopping by.”
“Sure didn’t.” Todd sank down onto the floor. “Becca and the kids are next door at some girly sleepover party thing.”
Charley smiled. “That was Sam’s idea. She’s over there too.”
Todd continued, “Kory rescued Daniel and took him to Rocky Mount. Lindell’s in Haiti. So I decided to take a walk on a nice night and hang out with the guys.”
“Sorry,” Charley said. “You didn’t know a gal would be here too.”
“No, this is awesome.” Todd glanced around. “Place looks a million times better when a gal’s here, trust me.”
“You’re real funny, Todd,” Travis said.
“Todd . . . I want to say again I feel bad about leaving Calvary. I really hope you know it was nothing personal.”
Todd held up his hand. “Charley, we already talked about it, and you know I’m fine with it.” He threw an arm around Travis. “This is my guy. I love how God is using him.” He focused on Charley. “I wish more people in town operated like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“It would be great if people would visit both churches and pray about which one God wanted them to attend, not just assume, ‘I’m white, so I go here,’ or ‘I’m black, so I go there.’”
“That’s what I loved about the joint service,” Charley said. “On that Sunday, there was no need to choose. We were all together.” She looked at Todd. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course you can.”
“I’m sure my grandpa pressured you. I wish you hadn’t given in.”
Todd looked taken aback. “It wasn’t that simple, Charley. It’s pretty complicated, actually.”
“What’s the worst that could’ve happened?” Charley said. “Them firing you? I’m sorry if I’m out of line, but I wish you had stood firm. I feel like my grandpa won and the kingdom lost.”
She couldn’t read Todd’s face, but it was somewhere in the neighborhood of dumbstruck.
“I’m a little surprised at what you’re saying, Charley. Like I said, a lot went into the decision. Your grandfather made compelling arguments about the history of Calvary and the importance of maintaining the integrity of the church.”
“Just like he made sure I understood Willoughby history and the importance of maintaining the integrity of our family—as a basis for ending my relationship with Marcus.” Charley hadn’t intended to spill her heart, but here she was. “Todd, my grandfather was against worshiping with New Jerusalem, and he’s against my relationship with Marcus. In the sixties, he was adamantly opposed to integrating the schools. What do you think this is really about?” She heard her cell phone ringing, but she ignored it.
Todd stared downward for several seconds, then back at Charley. “Your grandfather is a longtime elder of a church, the church of which I’m a pastor. He was instrumental in my decision to uproot my family from St. Louis and move here. Until I hear hard evidence to the contrary, I feel obliged to think the best of him.”
“I can understand that,” Charley said. “He’s my grandpa, and I love him. I want to think the best too.” Her phone had stopped and started ringing again. “Excuse me a minute.” She found her phone in the kitchen. “Why are you blowing up my phone, Ben?”
“I need a ride home. I’m at Kelsey’s.”
“I’m busy at the moment. Can’t Kelsey take you home?”
Ben sounded agitated, and loud, like he’d been drinking. “I don’t want that lying, cheating slut taking me anywhere. I found out she’s been seeing Roger behind my back. My own teammate!”
Charley could hear Kelsey in the background saying he had no right to be snooping in her Facebook messages.
“Didn’t you have another girl at the house last weekend?” Charley asked. “Wasn’t that behind Kelsey’s back?”
“This is my teammate, Charley.” He spoke to Kelsey again. “You slept with him, didn’t you, you slut! Kelsey, you swing at me again, and I’ll—”
“Ben!” Charley grabbed her purse. “Don’t you dare touch Kelsey. Go outside and wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She walked back into the living room. “Ben’s got an emergency. I need to run him home real quick.”
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