“Are you sure Zach will bring him to church again after tonight?”
“He won’t have a chance. The boys fly back to L.A. this week.”
“Too bad. It would have been good to have another chance to reach them, although I don’t know how far anyone can get with Eagle at this point. He seems set against the Lord.” Joelle sighed. “I’m sure He has plans for Eagle and Raven. When the time is right, He will reveal them. In the meantime, we should just be glad we were able to plant some seeds.”
Joelle watched as Dean took a few more bites of pie. He didn’t speak for awhile but seemed to be concentrating on private thoughts rather than the taste of the dessert. She wondered if he’d even remember consuming the pie once he left the diner. Joelle didn’t mind the silence. After years together, she and Dean were comfortable just being in each other’s presence.
She had just finished her own dessert when Dean finally spoke. “How are things at home?”
“Wonderful. Mom finally took her GED test.”
“That’s great,” Dean agreed. “She’s been wanting to get her diploma for a long time now. I’m sure she’s glad to get the test over with.”
“You said it.”
“How does she think she did?”
“She says she doesn’t know, but of course she did fine.” She leaned toward him. “After she gets her diploma, we’re planning a surprise party for her. You’ll be invited, but don’t say anything about it.”
“I wouldn’t think of missing it.” Dean glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. I’d better be hitting the road. I need to get some rest if I plan to sing that solo tomorrow in church.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. The choir director wanted me to ask you if you’d sing a solo sometime.”
Joelle moved her plate aside and propped her elbows on the table. She leaned closer to Dean. “She couldn’t ask me herself?”
“Maybe she thinks I have some influence.” He arched his eyebrows playfully.
She let her mouth curl into a coy grin. “Maybe you do.”
“Does that mean you’re willing to sing? I don’t think she cares what the song is, as long as either Marla can play it on the organ or she can get a tape.”
Joelle thought about the prospect of singing in front of the church. Mixed emotions of happiness, anticipation, and uncertainty reared their heads. She let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Dean. I feel so unworthy, with my conversion so recent.”
“No one else in the congregation thinks that way,” he assured her. “If anything, now is the best time for you to sing His praises. Your outlook is fresh and new, unlike some of us who’ve been heavily involved in the work of the church all of our lives.”
She was still unsure. Getting up in front of the whole church to sing by herself seemed daunting. An idea popped into her head. “You know, I like that Crystal Lewis song ‘Beauty for Ashes.’ ”
“I know that song.” He nodded. “That tune should work well with your voice.”
“And your voice, too. Why don’t you sing it with me?”
“A duet?”
“I think that’s what they call it,” she teased.
“I don’t know. . . .”
She put on her best woeful face. “Please? I’d like having you there to help me sing. I know I’ll have a lot more confidence that way.”
“We do make beautiful music together,” he noted.
Joelle wondered if he realized that statement could work on two levels. She decided she’d better head for safer verbal waters. “I like the words. All about how God gives us something for nothing.”
“ ‘For our ashes, He gives us beauty. Strength for fear.’ ”
“See? You already know the lyrics.”
He stopped as if considering her offer. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Great!” Joelle felt better already.
“When is the best time for you to practice? That is, if you can work a rehearsal into your busy schedule.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I tried to call you last night. Your mom told me you were out.”
“Speaking of being out, I just remembered something.” Reaching into her white leather hobo bag, she grabbed her wallet. Inside was Lloyd’s check. She held it open so Dean could read it for himself.
“Two hundred and twenty-five dollars, huh?” He kept reading. “Lloyd Newby.”
“Remember him?”
Dean thought for a minute. “Is that the loser who stuck you with the tab at the French place?”
“One and the same.” She pulled the check in each direction, resulting in a satisfying crackle of paper. “He paid me back, just like he promised.” Joelle returned the check to its place in her red wallet.
Dean shrugged. “All right. You win. I’m happy for you. I know you’re glad he finally repaid you. That’s an awful lot of money to throw to the wind.”
“It’s all mine now. That check will be deposited in my bank account tomorrow.” Joelle patted the outside of her bag as if putting the check to sleep for the night.
Dean tapped his fingers against his half-empty coffee mug. “Does this mean Mr. Lloyd Newby will be getting a second chance?”
Joelle couldn’t believe her heart lurched when he asked. “Does it matter?”
“Just wondering. It’s your life.” He averted his eyes and his voice took on a tone that convinced her he wasn’t telling her the whole truth.
“If you really want to know, he hasn’t asked me out again.”
“Oh.” He looked a little too pleased to suit Joelle. “If he did, would you go?”
She paused for effect but shook her head. “Not unless I had a lot of cash with me.”
“Good. I think he was looking for a woman to foot his bills. From what you said, he seemed to enjoy the things money can buy.” Dean drained his coffee cup. “Wonder what poor woman is paying his way now?”
“Woman? Why would you say that? It’s his name on the check.”
“So what? A girlfriend could have deposited the money in his account.”
“I guess that’s possible, but do you really think that’s true?” The thought of taking another woman’s money upset Joelle. She would rather not be paid back at all.
“I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d deposit it as soon as possible.” His voice took on an admonishing tone. “Just in case.”
At that moment, the waitress interrupted them to offer refills on their coffee. After they both declined, she placed the check on the table.
“So,” he said as he picked up the tab, “you never did tell me where you were last night.”
“You never did tell me why you were calling.”
He seemed as though he was about to say something when he thought better of it and changed his mind. “Tell you what. You leave the tip, and we’ll call the whole thing even.”
As they left, Dean promised to see her in church the next day. Only after Joelle got into her car did she realize that he hadn’t offered her a lift to worship service, as was his habit. For the first time in their long relationship, an uneasy emotion swept over her. She didn’t like the feeling one bit.
Thirteen
On Sunday afternoon, after the dishes from lunch were washed and leftover chicken stashed in the refrigerator for sandwiches later, Joelle retreated to her room. The past weeks had proven to be such a whirlwind, she hadn’t taken the time she needed to be alone with her thoughts and with the Lord.
As she changed out of her mint green cotton dress and pearl jewelry and into a comfortable pink terry cloth short set, Joelle thought about the day. During morning worship, Dean sat with Mandy and her family as was his custom, and Joelle sat with her parents and extended family who attended their church.
As expected, Dean’s solo went over well. The poignant silence that followed his rendition of “Our God Is an Awesome God” told Joelle that the worshipers understood that modern music can be reverent. If Joelle had had her druthers, she would have led them in a st
anding ovation. She’d never heard the song performed as a solo. Dean’s heartfelt, skillfully executed guitar arrangement, along with his rich tenor, made the words and tune seem especially worshipful.
After Sunday school, she congratulated him on a great performance. They agreed they needed to set up a time to rehearse for their duet. Then he was whisked away by some of the other church members who wanted to give their compliments, too. As she watched Dean shyly accept the praise, Joelle found herself looking forward to their rehearsals.
If only one of the men she’d met through the personals had been remotely like Dean!
She returned to the present with a sigh, remembering her resolution to answer one last ad. Surely the next person she called would be Mr. Right. Sitting on the bed, she drew the latest edition of Today’s Southwest Virginian Christian Singles out of her nightstand drawer. Even though she hadn’t fallen in love at first sight with any of her blind dates, she knew the little paper was the best place to find her next prospect.
Joelle flipped over the latest edition of the circular so she could study the front cover. A woman with frizzy permed hair and no makeup to hide crow’s-feet wrinkles around her eyes stared back at her. The article about her was entitled “Living Single and Loving It!” Joelle noted the irony in the publication’s running personal ads. The people they chose to interview each week weren’t what the world would consider glamourous. Tricks of the secular magazines, such as windblown hair, soft lighting, and skimpy clothing, were never used to grab a reader’s attention.
The paper she held had to be the safest venue to meet new men. With the word “Christian” in the title, she doubted anyone who wasn’t a believer would even bother to read the newspaper. She nodded to herself. Any personal ads in this magazine were most definitely placed by Christians, she told herself again, particularly ones who were willing to look beyond the surface and into a person’s heart. Even though she’d discovered that Christian men she met weren’t as perfect as she’d first imagined, they’d been easier to cope with than nonbelievers such as Dustin, the boyfriend she had before her life-changing encounter with Christ. When she had still been enmeshed in the relationship, Joelle had kept her focus on the good times. Now that she had escaped, she saw that Dustin and his simmering rage had brought her more conflict than joy.
She turned to the back of the magazine. In the few weeks she’d been searching for someone, the ads, which appeared under the title “Solomon’s Song,” had doubled in size. Joelle wondered if the number of mateless people was increasing or if more people were finding out about the magazine and taking out ads. She couldn’t help noticing that more men placed ads than women. She speculated men were more daring, or maybe they feared less for their safety than their female counterparts. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t complain. More personals from them meant a wider selection for her.
Skimming the entries under “Single Men,” she noticed Lloyd’s ad was still running. His entry reminded her to say a word of thanks to the Lord for the check. Perhaps Lloyd hadn’t been a perfect Christian, but over the course of their evening together, Joelle could see that he believed in Christ. He just hadn’t given over his whole trust to the Lord. Otherwise, his interest in material gain wouldn’t have been all-consuming. During her prayer, a surge of guilt shot through her, filling her with so much remorse that she stopped praying in midsentence. In that instant, she was convicted with the knowledge that money had motivated her to answer Lloyd’s ad. He had promised candlelight gourmet dinners and travel to exotic places. Hadn’t she wanted those things?
She had to admit, she still wanted to travel. She still liked to eat well. But she resolved not to let these carnal desires motivate other life decisions—particularly ones as critical as committing to the man she would one day marry.
After a moment, she resumed her prayer, confessing her weakness. Then she thanked the Lord that He had used her date with Lloyd to show her one area where she needed to change. She petitioned that she would stay on a path that led away from love of material possessions and the pleasures money can buy, and into His arms. She prayed that Lloyd would also find happiness in fewer possessions and seek fulfillment in the Lord’s love. She closed her prayer without much hope that Lloyd would change, and none that she would hear from him again.
Joelle took a moment to marvel at those whose walk in the faith was such that they took comfort in all outcomes and lived as though they brooked no doubt. She knew she had a long way to go before she reached that point. In the meantime, Joelle was comforted by the knowledge that the Lord would be patient with her.
Quickly she added a prayer for the women who answered Lloyd’s ad. The fact she didn’t know their identities didn’t matter. The Lord knew all.
Out of curiosity, she looked for Dexter’s ad. She couldn’t find it among the listings. Joelle mused that either Dexter had convinced Bertha to discontinue the ad or he had finally became engaged to his Anastasia. Joelle sent up a prayer for the couple. If God’s plan was for Anastasia and Dexter to make a match, she hoped the union would be blessed. No matter what woman Dexter eventually married, she prayed his mother would accept her new daughter-in-law.
She felt a nudging about Wilbert. She prayed he, too, would find the right woman. After she closed her prayer, Joelle wondered if Wilbert would ever find a woman whose goal in life was a sparkling kitchen floor—not that maintaining a clean apartment would be an easy task with his brothers around. Perhaps finding a woman would be the best thing Wilbert could do. If he married, his brothers would be forced to move and make their own way. Even so, Wilbert had given her the impression his main objective in a relationship was to gain an errand girl and housekeeper. Joelle wasn’t afraid of work, yet she wanted the man she chose to see her as more than a way to accomplish his chores.
Sighing, Joelle picked up her beloved white teddy bear. She placed the bear, which she had improbably christened with the elaborate name Theodosia, next to her chest. Hugging Theodosia, she curled her legs until her knees touched the bear’s ears. Joelle wished she could return to a simpler time, a time when she was a little girl and her main concern was whether she’d be getting the latest Barbie for Christmas. Hugging her teddy bear made her feel almost as though that dream were possible.
Joelle could indulge such a fantasy in her present surroundings. The bedroom had not been redecorated since she was twelve. On her birthday that November, her parents had presented Joelle with her very own bedroom suite. The desk, dresser, vanity, and canopy bed were made of knotted wood. She could tell because even the thick coat of white paint didn’t conceal the round and oval shapes of the dark knobs. Pink flowers were strategically stickered onto each piece as decoration. They matched the medium shade of pink that Dad had painted on her walls while she was at a sleepover. She found out later the slumber party had been arranged just so they could surprise her. That day lived on in Joelle’s memory as one of the happiest she could remember. As a result, the room remained almost untouched, a souvenir of that day.
Though she was no longer that preteen girl, taking refuge in that room was like turning back the clock to a simpler time, when the decisions she had to make seemed much more important than they were. Even now she could lean her back against the pink pillow shams that rested on the headboard. She could turn on her CD player and let the soothing sounds of her favorite artists flood the room. She could keep munching on the bag of cheese curls that she still wasn’t supposed to be eating on her bed, despite the fact she was an adult and took care of her own laundry.
Retreating to her room, hugging Theodosia, listening to music, and feasting on forbidden cheese curls was what she’d always done whenever she had a problem or faced a dilemma. Usually, after contemplation, she could talk herself into doing what her parents wanted her to do, or what her friends thought she should do, or even what she thought was right.
She wondered what Dean would have thought of Wilbert.
Joelle let out a groan. Why did Dean always have to i
nterfere with every decision? Could she ever get away from worrying about what he would think?
Maybe not. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t told him she’d been out with Wilbert. Maybe Wilbert was a threat, whether Joelle had acknowledged it at that point or not. But Dean had no reason to feel threatened, especially now that he was seeing Nicole.
Her treacherous heart reacted by sending forth a flood of anxiety. Why hadn’t Dean told her about Nicole? He looked like he was about to, but something stopped him. What?
“He knows I don’t approve of Nicole. That’s what it is,” she grumbled. “What in the world made him ask her out, of all people? They have nothing in common except the singles’ group. And she doesn’t even seem halfway committed to that.”
An unbidden thought occurred to her. Dean didn’t have to ask her approval. Sure, they were friends, but that didn’t give her the right to dictate who he should and shouldn’t see. She had to realize that.
“Besides, he sure wouldn’t approve of me trying the personals again.” With a motion of rebellion, she snapped the paper open and began reading. “I’ll show Dean Nichols who’s right.”
Fourteen
Still reclined on her bed, Joelle set her teddy bear by her side and started combing through the ads in earnest. With every man trying to make himself sound like Prince Charming, the ads differed little from each other. Joelle almost felt as though using the old childhood rhyme “Eeny meeny, minee, moe” would be as reliable as giving each great thought.
“Maybe you can tell me which one to call, Theodosia,” she told her teddy bear. The stuffed animal’s brown eyes remained unseeing, her mouth, with its pink tongue sticking out to one side, remained silent. “How does this one sound?”
Joelle read aloud:
Handsome, physically fit male, 35, seeks attractive, physically fit female, 20–40, for fun and games. Must love to watch football, soccer, tennis, and baseball as much as I do. Must also be a worthy tennis opponent. If throwing a Super Bowl party for the gang is the highlight of your January, then I’m your man!
Elusive Mr. Perfect Page 11
