by C. B. Stagg
“I don’t know what to do first. My parents never allowed me to get anywhere near a place like this, and since moving here, I usually have to work. The carnival brings more customers, which means bigger tips. Roy and Cara Jo have taken Waverly, but I was left to run the diner.”
How fast she must have grown up, having Waverly so young. She hadn’t experienced those carefree teen years like most people. Instead, she’d become a mother—the head of a household—with a tiny child dependent on every choice she made. My heart ached for her lost youth.
“I have an idea. Let’s take a ride on the Ferris wheel first. From there, we can see everything.”
Her child-like wonder was infectious and brought to the surface these new, nurturing instincts I wasn’t equipped to deal with. “You can see everything from up there?”
“Yep. And once we know all the carnival has to offer, we can make a more detailed plan.”
Her wide, smiling eyes settled on mine. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the big wheel at the far end of the pier. I remembered nothing of the journey through the crowd, only that I was with one of the most exquisite women I’d ever known. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact she’d grabbed my hand. And even though we’d made it through the throngs of people and were standing in line, waiting for our turn, she still hadn’t dropped it. A perfect fit, as if they’d been designed for each other.
Open to the possibilities.
Chapter 14
Kaitlin
BEING WITH CHRISTIAN WAS pure magic.
He was comfort in a way that confused me, warm and familiar. I chalked it up to the fact he looked a lot like his mother, and surmised the warm affection I held for his mother was easily projected onto Christian. Though we’d spent so little time together, this type of warmth, especially for a man, was new to me.
It wasn’t as though I hadn’t been asked out before. Customers tried hitting on me at least once a week, but my arrangement with Cara Jo worked. Until today, she’d always taken pride in chasing unwanted advances away. But these advances weren’t exactly unwanted.
“So, tell me, how does someone like you go your whole life without a date?”
We were strapped into what I could only describe as a big metal bucket. But despite its size, if Christian and I had been sitting any closer to one another, I’d have been in his lap. The idea of that wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
“Well, my past isn’t something I like to talk about, but let’s say I was sheltered as a child and I’ve spent my adult life sort of… well, sort of in love with a ghost.”
He nodded, taking on a more somber demeanor. “Waverly’s father. That’s who you’re talking about, right? Is he the ghost?”
I closed my eyes, trying to picture the man’s face, still with no luck. But his taste, his touch, the profound effect he’d had over my body…
Was I ready to go there with a perfect stranger?
“Yeah,” I admitted, “he’s my ghost.”
We sat in silence. The higher we moved, the quieter it got, Christian’s piercing gaze rooted on me.
“So, you’re still in love with him?”
“It’s more complicated than that. I don’t know if I was ever in love with him, per se. I didn’t know him long enough to fall in love with him. But I definitely love what he gave me before he died.” I sighed, picturing my babies. This wasn’t something I was usually comfortable discussing, but something about the man beside me made me want to spill my guts.
“His death was unexpected, and it hit me hard. Over the last several years, my brain has sort of filled in the pieces I don’t know about him. I’ve created this image of the man I wanted him to be: the perfect partner for me, and the perfect father for Waverly. I think I fell in love with that man.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, it sounds kind of sad and messed up now that I’ve heard the words spoken out loud.”
“And I think you may have set yourself up for disappointment. No one can compete with a perfect man and father who never existed.”
My breath caught as I realized how right he was. He sighed and took my hand.
“So you weren’t kidding when you said you’re in love with a ghost?”
I chuckled. “Yep, just send my therapy bill to the diner.” His laugh made me do the same.
“Or we could take it out in trade. I am a huge bacon fan.”
And just like that, the mood was lightened. “So, what about you?” I punched him in the arm. “Ten years is a long time to, you know… ”
He laughed. “I know, I know. You’re not saying anything my mother doesn’t like to point out on a regular basis. I spent a lot of time living the wrong kind of life. One day I decided I didn’t like the man I’d become, and I spent the next several years getting my head on straight and fixing myself. It’s only now I finally feel like I’m ready.” He ran his hands over his gorgeous face.
I knew exactly what he was feeling. I’d become restless as of late. He didn’t know it, but I held him responsible for my sudden and unexpected dissatisfaction with my life. Seeing him with Waverly made me want for more than what I already had.
“How are people our age supposed to meet new people? I mean, I’m a single mom, and you’re a preacher. It’s not like we can go trolling the bars.” It was a serious question, one I’d asked myself a lot recently.
“That is the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
I waited a few breaths, letting my mind formulate my next question. “So, what are your thoughts about looking for someone online?” I peeked up at him from the side of my eye and his breath caught in his throat. When our eyes met, I exploded into giggles.
“Have you signed up with one of those sites?” His tone was deadly serious.
Still giggling, I shook my head. “No… I’ve, um, poked around a little, though.” I stared straight ahead and clamped my lips between my teeth to stop myself from laughing or saying anything else.
He sobered even more. “What?” Looking at me, he grabbed me by my shoulders and gasped. “You found me, didn’t you?”
My imperceptible nod was all it took. His face turned beet red, and I watched as he dropped his head into his hands, shaking it back and forth. His actions were making our bucket rock, and my body slid even closer to his. “You have got to be kidding me.” His fingers were running through that thick, silky blond hair and I’d never been more jealous of a pair of hands in my life.
“Utter mortification.”
Keeping my hands firmly clasped in my lap, I watched his faux meltdown, laughing even harder. “Hey, to be fair, I was the one out there looking. Your mortification is my mortification.” I nudged him with my shoulder a little, and he overcorrected, leaning incredibly close to me. His freshly showered scent, mixed with spearmint, was about to make me do something I’d regret. “Tonight, we can be pathetic together.”
He raised his head and smiled, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into the crook of his arm. It was like his body had been molded to fit mine. In silence, we looked out over the lights and crowds, once again enjoying the nearness of our newfound friendship.
The entire night had led to this moment, one that both electrified and terrified me at the same time. Hand in hand, Christian and I wandered back to the diner. At the door of my little trailer, we stopped. I knew Waverly would be inside sleeping and, more than likely, Roy or Cara Jo were on the other side of the flimsy aluminium wall.
What is he expecting? What am I?
“Thank you for tonight.”
Even standing on the bottom step, I had to look up at him. My insides knotted up when he took my hands and started swirling his thumbs over my knuckles, his eyes boring holes into me.
“You’re welcome. Maybe next time we can take Little Fish with us.”
Oh, my heart.
His affection for my child was the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced, leaving me at a loss for words. I never expected the tongue-twisted, lovesick teenager I’d
suppressed all those years ago would unexpectedly emerge in my mid-twenties.
“I think she’d like that a lot.”
Our gazes were locked and his eyes were home. Everything about him was. “I would, too.”
And there we stood—two ordinary, socially awkward people—waiting for something extraordinary to happen. He tipped his head closer.
“Please.” My request was a tiny feather of a word, gone almost before it appeared, but Christian’s response to my plea was immediate. He closed the six inches separating us, stopping short of making contact.
“I’m new at this, Katy. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is, for the first time in a long time, I feel something for another person. I want to hug you close and feel your heartbeat against my chest. I want to kiss your lips and taste what flavor ChapStick you put on a few minutes ago, because man, I didn’t know it was possible, but I sure am jealous of that ChapStick.” His slight huff of a laugh danced across my face, sending sparks through my body. “I want to know if you taste as sweet as you lo—”
I placed my hands on his cheeks, the stubble from the day’s growth soft beneath my fingers and pulled him down, letting a kiss barely graze his full lips. He pulled back, and I swear the man in front of me could see straight into my soul. Still cupping his face, I let my thumbs glide over his cheekbones a few times. I had no idea what to do from here.
Luckily, for Christian, kissing a woman was like riding a bicycle.
His soft, sweet mouth came down harder and captured mine. With a mind all its own, my body reacted like it had done this a million times, arms snaking around his broad shoulders to land in the newly cropped hair at the base of his neck. Had he gotten his hair cut for me? Christian held me close, one strong arm wrapped around my waist and the other guiding my neck and shoulders to his as if I might escape at any moment.
We fell into a magical rhythm unique to only us. Our tongues dancing, bodies entangled, creating a friction both tender and powerful at the same time. But fear—the ugly bastard—wormed its way into my heart and my mind, making me question everything. The last time I found myself in a position like this, the situation escalated to the point of no return. Was I ready for that again? I pulled away, my lungs seeking much-needed oxygen, but Christian still held me close, seeming to understand my sudden hesitation.
“I want to see you again.” His breaths, like mine, were coming fast and uneven. It was both comforting and terrifying to know I’d affected him the same way he affected me. “I have to… ”
I bobbed my head a few times, mustering up the courage to voice what needed to be said. “I’d like that… a lot,” I stammered. “I would… but maybe, for now, can we be friends? Just friends?”
Phrasing that last part as a question hadn’t been my intent, but I was, in fact, seeking his approval of the idea. He might not want that, and the thought of losing him tied my stomach into an angry knot. I needed this man in my life, but I found myself navigating new waters. As resilient as I was, I wasn’t sure I could handle the inevitable heartbreak that would come of this.
He nodded, looking into my eyes with a shy smile before tracing his finger from my temple, over my jawline, and down my neck. He leaned down, pulling a deep breath with his nose buried in my hair and pulled me in for a hug. His body against mine was perfection. In my ear, he whispered, “I can do friends, Katy. If that’s what you need, I can be your friend… For now.”
The last five years had been an act of emotional avoidance, and my ability to become invisible had been the key. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to love and lose someone else, but now that I was being seen, I realized invisibility comes at a steep price. I’d convinced myself I wasn’t worth looking at. And though it was way too soon to be thinking of the ‘L’ word, something was changing inside of me. Because that night, the fuzzy image of the man with the floppy mop of sun-blond, wavy hair and the scraggly beard to match—the father of my angels and the one I’d built up to God-like status—was swiftly being replaced by the taste and touch of someone new.
The next morning, stuck to the outside of my door, I found a plain, yellow Post-it note. Written in careful cursive were the words, You’re beautiful when you wear a smile.
Chapter 15
Christian
May 2012
BlindDate.org Interactive Message
TO: MemberID 041586CC
FROM: Member ID 0510JS
Hi ITC86:
My name is Audrey and your profile caught my eye. I think it’s fabulous that you are a pastor. I, too, am in the business of helping people. I am a volunteer wet nurse. After searching for my life’s purpose, I realized that sometimes women need a break from their child suckling at their breasts all the time and that’s where I come in. It may be a night out on the town or a week-long vacation, it doesn’t matter to me. My breasts are always full and ready to feed. As fulfilling as this job is, it would be even better if I had a man to share my life with. Let me know when you’d like to meet.
Love: MilkMaid247
I CLOSED MY COMPUTER, packed up, and headed for home. Maybe it was time to call it quits on this little social dating experiment. I hadn’t replied to any of the more than a dozen initial contacts I’d received. In fact, in most cases, I’d blocked the women. Life was too short to waste time engaging in something that clearly wasn’t moving me closer to my goal.
“So, Pastor Clark, I’m hearing good things about you. All the ladies in our sewing circle seem to be somewhat smitten by the handsome pastor.”
I smiled as Janice brought the roast and potatoes she’d, no doubt, been cooking all day to the table. “Oh, I don’t know about that. And please, call me Christian.”
She nodded with a smile as she took her spot beside Pastor John. We’d become more than acquaintances, but not quite friends, and I was starting to enjoy the shy, smart woman who lived next door to me. Janice was becoming more comfortable with me, and I was glad for that.
“Everyone has been so friendly, and I feel at home here.” I piled steaming roast beef and potatoes onto my plate, smothering it with the peppered brown gravy.
“I heard a couple of the men at the hardware store talking about you setting up a weekly morning coffee Bible study. They seemed excited about it.” Pastor John spoke with his mouth full of food, a habit that made my appetite run screaming from the table.
“Yes, sir. I thought our retired men would like some fellowship over breakfast, so I found a fun little place for us to meet. Truth be known, I think the wives may need the break from their husbands as much as their husbands need the camaraderie.”
I thought it was funny, and Janice snorted a little, but the wrinkle in John’s brow and the stern set of his jaw made it apparent the older pastor did not feel the same. That man got under my skin, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my distaste for my superior.
The phone rang, and Janice jumped up to answer it before quickly handing the cordless handset to her husband. After a few rounds of ‘mmm-hmmm’ and I’ see,’ he stood and placed his napkin on the table.
“It sounds like Margaret Green has taken a turn for the worse. That was her daughter, Erin, and she said the hospital staff doesn’t expect Mrs. Green to make it through the night. I’m going to head on up to the hospital to pray with her and be with the family.”
I stood, too. “I can go if you’d like to finish your meal.” I didn’t know Margaret Green or her daughter, but prayers with the dying was nothing new to me.
He motioned for me to stay seated before grabbing his keys and slamming the back door, causing Janice to jump at the sound.
“So, Christian, now that you’ve gotten your bearings… are you starting to think about settling down, looking for a good woman, and maybe starting a family?” The kindness in her eyes was unmistakable, but only present in the absence of her husband. When he was around, she kept her eyes downcast and didn’t speak much unless spoken to. It was uncomfortable, to say the l
east, and I dreaded these Wednesday evening meals like a flu shot.
“Well, as you know, there aren’t many women of dating age around this area.” A soft, sad smile graced her face as she fumbled with the lace at the edge of her placemat. Her sniff echoed in the silent room.
I scooted to the seat her husband had vacated and placed my hands over hers. “Janice, what’s wrong? Are you thinking about your daughter right now?”
The slight nod of her head sent a few tears spilling from her eyes to the table. “I think about her all the time.” She looked up and plastered on a smile, only it never reached her eyes. She wasn’t fooling me, though. The room crackled with unspoken emotion and something else—regret?
I scooted in closer. “I can tell her passing is a touchy subject with Pastor John, but I want you to know you can always talk to me. And nothing you say will ever leave my lips.” She nodded again but refused to meet my eyes. “Do you want to talk about her? Maybe tell me one thing?”
“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what her voice sounds like.”
Once the words escaped her lips, the rest of the sadness and hurt she’d been holding on to followed. I stood and wrapped her in my arms. The older woman’s pain and sorrow soaked the front of my shirt as we stayed, rooted in place, for several long, lonely minutes. When her body-wracking sobs faded into whimpers, I started to pray for her, asking God to help her find peace in her life without her beloved daughter. I also asked God to grant me the strength to be a source of comfort for her when she needed a friend.
“I’m so sorry,” she pulled back, wiping her face with her napkin.
“Please don’t ever apologize for loving your daughter. I am right out there,” I pointed out her back door, “whenever you need me, okay?” I held her shoulders at arm’s length to look into her eyes.
“God bless you.” Her hand came up to pat my cheek. “I wish you could have met my girl. I could easily see her settling down with a fine, godly man such as yourself.” Her words were sweet if not a little morbid. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of her picturing me and her dead daughter.
