This Time

by Rachel Hauck

  Belle faced him, hands on her hips, and asked cynically, "You think that would have made a difference?"

  "Less awkward maybe."

  A wave of boldness mixed with ire stirred within her. She stepped closer to him and glared into his face. "Twelve years, Burke. We haven't spoken in twelve years. You waltz back into town like we'd palled around yesterday, as if nothing horrible had ever happened between us."

  "How would you want me to behave?"

  "Like you were sorry." She drove the words at him like a hammer driving nails.

  He answered with conviction. "I am sorry."

  "Oh really?" Her voice trembled. "You have a strange way of showing it."

  He ducked his head, his blue eyes staring at his snakeskin boots, his demeanor humbled. "I should have…"

  "You're right, you should have. But you didn't. One call Burke, that's all I wanted. One call, explaining. But instead, I got silence. Me, your best friend."

  She balled her fist as if she wanted to punch him, but she stopped. A childish punch would accomplish nothing. It would not heal her hurt, it would not change the past, it would not bring back the lost years. Tears burned in her eyes as she studied the impressive athlete she'd once loved so desperately.

  "Enjoy the reunion, Burke," she murmured, and walked off into the night.

  ***

  Saturday morning Belle woke up feeling weighted, dreading the second day of the reunion. She regretted her angry exchange with Burke. Was the anger and hurt still so alive beneath the surface?

  She pulled her comforter from the bed and curled up in it on the seat under the bay window. For a long time, she stared out, watching as the day dawned, praying.

  By the time she came down for breakfast, Duke and the Bar J hands, Jake Morley and Cole Mitchell, had completed the morning chores and gone into town for supplies.

  Belle saddled up Trixie and rode over to the church. Pastor Mike kept the chapel door open all the time for people to come and pray - anytime, day or night. Over time, it had become a favorite place for her. She trotted along atop the appaloosa, guitar in tow, thinking and praying and asking the Lord for grace to face Burke.

  Inside the cool, peaceful chapel, Belle spent the better part of an hour strumming and singing Psalms to the Lord. She loved the way music made the inspired words of King David come alive in her heart and drew her closer to her true Beloved.

  Gratefully, after being in the presence of the Holy One and meditating on His great love, the issue of Burke became trivial and petty.

  "Father," Belle prayed, "if You can forgive me for all I've done, and love me so much to send Your son Jesus to die for me, I guess I can endure Burke for a weekend and have fun at the same time."

  She smiled at her words, knowing the God of the Universe delighted in her simple prayer, and answered. His peace, the peace that guarded her heart and mind, touched her soul.

  "Today will be a good day," she said as she and Trixie galloped home, the soft summer breeze on their backs.

  ***

  The class picnic and softball game that afternoon turned out to be hilarious fun. More than once, Belle doubled over with laughter as she watched some of her classmates bungle around on the ball field, their comical bantering the only successful hit in the game. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. Once she made up her mind not to let the past interfere with her present, she relaxed and had fun.

  She even watched with amusement as Burke captured the day with his wit and humor over his clumsy softball playing. He missed grounders and struck out a couple of times. Spencer razzed him mercilessly.

  Not to be outdone, Burke razzed him back and made cheesy excuses for his weak play. "The ball is too round," he claimed, sparking another round of laughter from the crowd in the stands.

  His larger than life personality wove them together with a sense of camaraderie, melting away the years.

  Belle maintained the peace the Lord blessed her with that morning. For the first time this weekend, she didn't have a knot in her stomach at the thought of seeing Burke.

  Once, when he passed by, their eyes met, and she tried to say she was sorry for last evening's exchange with a glance and a grin. He obviously caught her meaning and tipped his head, smiling.

  She sighed. Everything's different when you examine it under the light of Jesus.

  Saturday evening the class gathered at the cozy Cheyenne Inn for a formal dinner. Already Belle found it hard to image that the next day would take them all their separate ways.

  Meg, and the decorating team, had transformed the banquet room into a wonderland of candlelight and soft music.

  "Meg, you're a marvel," Belle said when she arrived that evening, giving Meg a gracious hug.

  "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

  "Where did you get all these candles?"

  Meg winked. "Ordered them off of the internet."

  "Smart move," Belle said, glancing around the room again before facing her friend. "By the way, you look beautiful tonight with your curls piled on top of your head."

  "Thank you," Meg answered.

  Spencer strode toward them, sporting his broad, cheeky grin. He threw his arms around their shoulders, hugging both ladies simultaneously. "My friends, you look marvelous. Meg, outstanding décor."

  "Thanks, Spence. I wanted this evening to be special."

  Meg's husband called for her from a few tables away. She excused herself and, for the first time all weekend, Belle and Spencer were alone.

  "How're you doing?" he asked.

  "I'm good."

  "Really?" He reached for her hand. "I've been trying to give you space, let you work things out."

  "I appreciate that," she said, giving his hand a slight squeeze before pulling away.

  "You look absolutely beautiful. That color of the dress matches your eyes."

  Belle blushed and smoothed her hand over her emerald green evening gown. "It's fun to get dressed up like this once in awhile." She nodded to Spencer and brushed the lapel of his tux. "You look handsome."

  He thanked her, then asked, "We ever going to have that talk you promised me?"

  She winced. "Yeah, we'll talk. Dinner one night this week?"

  "It's a date."

  The night oozed with memories. Tyler's after dinner narration of a class slide show mixed laughter with tears.

  Belle isolated herself in a dark corner of the room, anticipating the slide show's overwhelming reminder of the life she once shared with Burke. Image after image of them flashed across the screen, together, smiling, happy, in love.

  That was the plan, wasn't it Burke, to always be together? To always be in love? What happened? Why did you leave me?

  Pictures flashed by of them at the ninth grade fund-raiser for the Colorado ski trip. Next, came the tenth grade football championship with Burke in his uniform, grinning from ear to ear, his arm around Belle's shoulders. After that, the eleventh grade homecoming court, followed by a picture of Belle in Burke's arms after the school's second district championship game.

  And finally, images from their senior year flashed by. Belle fought the rising tears caused by sentiment. The show seemed to present them in almost every other slide; the homecoming court, the state championship game where Haskell High walked away with the trophy and a undefeated season; pictures from the school halls, Winter Festival and graduation.

  Several times, she glanced over at Burke, sublime and swank in his black tux, wondering what thoughts ran though his mind. Did seeing them together move his heart as it did hers?

  She caught his gaze as he looked around the room. She glanced away when his eyes focused on her. It seemed impossible to believe that the smiling, loving couple on the screen now sat in the same room, worlds apart and barely speaking to each other.

  Tyler ended the evening with eloquent, emotional words. "We've spent the past few days reliving days gone by, reacquainting ourselves with old friends, treasuring a more innocent time in our lives." He paused an
d glanced purposely around the room. "Haven't we all been changed by this reunion? Our hearts renewed by linking our past with our present? It's a wonderful reminder of where we've been, where we are going and of what really matters in life. Family. Friends. Faith."

  Applause filled the room. Belle smiled from her spot in the corner. Tyler continued, motioning to Burke. "Isn't it great to see Burke here this time?"

  More applause, accented with scattered cheering. Burke waved to the crowd.

  Belle watched, acknowledging her feelings and memories of Burke, missing what used to be. But after a brief moment, she purposefully shoved all affection aside, hiding it away in the recesses of her mind.

  I forget what lies behind, and press forward to what lies ahead.

  "And then there's the reunion committee," Tyler said, calling the six member team by name. The class of '88 honored the committee with a standing ovation.

  "Belle, thank you for chairing the committee." Wild applause erupted across the room. Suddenly all eyes were on her. She blushed, feeling caught and as if her private thoughts were exposed. She offered a small wave, hoping that would suffice, praying no one would yell for a speech.

  "You all did a outstanding job," Tyler said when the clapping died down. He left the stage, ending the night.

  Suddenly, Belle found herself surrounded by dear friends saying good-bye. She hugged them one by one, promising to stay in touch, busily stuffing her small handbag with business cards and napkins scribbled with email addresses.

  When the crowd around her finally cleared, Burke stood off to one side, alone and waiting.

  "Tyler's right. The committee did a great job organizing this reunion. I'm glad I came."

  Belle squared her shoulders and tried to look him in the eye, so blue, so sincere. But she looked away as she said, "Thank you. Everyone seemed thrilled to see you. And Grace."

  She fumbled clumsily with the clasp on her purse.

  "All except you?" Burke slipped his hands into his pockets, dipping his head to see Belle's face.

  She trembled, fighting the storm of emotions brewing inside. "I can't change that," she said as she turned to leave.

  Chapter Five

  On a starry Sunday night Burke's sports car hummed down the highway toward the airport, the wind whipping through the open top.

  "What a lovely night. So many stars," Grace said, pulling her long thick, tangled hair into a ponytail. She dropped her head against the headrest and fixed her eyes on Oklahoma's night sky.

  "Did you enjoy the weekend?"

  "Hmm, very much."

  Burke smiled at her. "I'm glad you came."

  Grace slipped her hand into Burke's. "Thank you for inviting me."

  "Not too much autograph hounding, I hope."

  Grace shook her head. "You have very considerate classmates. They were almost apologetic about asking."

  "And you were very gracious."

  Grace laughed softly.

  Burke grinned. "What is it?"

  "You, me, this small talk."

  Burke's smile faded and he focused on the road ahead.

  Grace reached for his hand and lifted it toward the dashboard lights. "I always loved your hands, you know. They are so like you; strong, capable, gentle and handsome."

  "Handsome?" Burke asked, glancing at Grace. Strands of her burnished red hair had pulled free from her ponytail and whipped about her oval face. Her almond shaped eyes stared at his hand as she traced across his knuckles with her slender fingertips.

  "Are you serious about moving back here?" she asked.

  Burke squeezed her hand and moved his thumb over her fingers. "Yeah, I am."

  She shifted her gaze and watched the night lights from her side of the car. "You have to find out, don't you?"

  "Grace, I…"

  She faced him. "I never understood how one person could love another after years and years of being apart. What causes that kind of love to remain? Yet, when I saw the slide show Saturday night, your life with Belle became real to me. She was in your arms, with your friends, cheering with you after the big wins. She shared your life in a way I'll never know. I can't fathom how special that must feel."

  "You've lived a different kind of life, that's all," Burke offered as an explanation.

  Grace raked her fingers through her hair, brushing the loose strands out of her eyes. "Growing up in a superficial, artificial Hollywood family I never felt anything below the surface of my soul until I met Jesus."

  "I regret the years I spent away from Him, not serving Him, not loving Him."

  "But you found your way back."

  Burke nodded. "Once I discovered that the things of this world are meaningless."

  Grace laughed. "I used to think my privileged life with celebrities, money and fame was the envy of the world. Then I met you. You introduced me to Jesus and a life that I never knew existed. I didn't know I was lost until I was found."

  "The Lord is doing great things in your life, Grace. Your new production company, the films you are doing depict real Christians and present a true, Biblical Gospel."

  Grace nodded in agreement. "The Lord is very good to me," she said, then paused. "Can I tell you something?"

  "Shoot."

  "She loves you, you know."

  "Belle?"

  "Who else?"

  "Grace, I can't imagine- after what I did to her."

  "I know, but I saw it in her eyes when you introduced us, and after the slide show."

  "Sentiment, pure sentiment. The entire class got emotional during that slide show."

  "Call it what you will, but I know love when I see it."

  Burke wrapped his fingers tighter around hers as the airport exit came into view. "I'm going to miss you."

  She held her head up, jutting out her firm chin. "We've learned to live with distance between us. You in Colorado most of the year, me in L.A." He could hear the forced courage in her words. "Besides, I leave for Australia in two days. I'd be gone anyway."

  Burke held onto her hand as he slowed the car to take the airport exit.

  "You don't have to go in with me," Grace said. "I don't want a mushy, airport good-bye scene."

  "What mushy airport good-bye scene?" Burke asked. "I'm going in with you. You're not waiting alone."

  "No, Burke." Her tone pleaded with him.

  He pulled up to the skycap curb as she requested and turned to face her, taking her hands into his. He started to say something, but the tears pooling in her eyes melted away his words.

  Grace slipped one of her hands free and cradled his face. "See ya, Benning."

  He softly kissed her cheek. "Grace, please, let me come in with you."

  Grace stepped out at the curb, and reached in the back for her carry-on bag. "No need. I'll be on the plane by the time you hit the highway. Thank you, Burke, for a lovely weekend."

  "Anytime, Peterson."

  "Be careful."

  "I will. See ya, Grace."

  "See ya, Burke." With that, Grace disappeared inside the airport and Burke drove toward home.

  ***

  Tuesday morning the halls of Haskell High echoed with Burke's footsteps as he made his way toward Coach Anderson's office. He paused briefly by his old locker, inspecting the familiar scratches and dings, finding the spot where his initials were carved with another's on the bottom corner. BB and BJ encircled by a heart.

  Still there, he thought, grinning, fingering the engraving, and remembering the day Belle boldly made the marks. She spent a week in detention for defacing school property.

  For years, she claimed it was worth it. "Every one knows you're mine now," she had asserted.

  "I thought everyone already knew," Burke countered, laughing at her manufactured jealousy, his eyes locked with hers.

  "All except Dana Love."

  "Belle," he said tenderly, brushing her long, silky, brown hair over her shoulder. "You don't have to worry, ever."

  "It's not you I'm worried about," she said, a misch
ievous smile on her lips.

  Burke leaned against the lockers for a moment, remembering, then continued down the hall to Coach Anderson's office. When he arrived at the solid oak door, he knocked lightly.

  "Come in."

  "Morning, Coach," Burke said as he entered. He shook the older man's hand heartily.

  Summer's soft morning light came through the window, falling in streaks across the dull, scarred wooden floor.

  "Glad you could come by, Burke." Coach motioned for him to sit in the chair next to his desk.

  "I see you're still hitting the weights," Burke said, taking a seat, motioning to the coach's muscular arms.

  Coach Anderson shoved some papers into a folder and dropped it into an open drawer. "You know what they say, it's an old man's sport."

  He laughed, nodding. "You're not so old."

  "I turned sixty-seven this past May."

  "Sixty-seven?" Burke said, surprised.

  Anderson confirmed with a curt nod, then went straight to the point. "I suppose you wondered why I called."

  "I'm curious," he admitted. "Something to do with football, I guess."

  "I hear you're retiring."

  Burke's eyes grew wide. "A little bird named Jack told you?"

  "That'd be the one," Coach said, rocking back in his old wooden desk chair.

  "Yes, I am retiring. It's not official until next month when the press release comes out."

  "Well, I don't have an official press release coming, but I'm retiring myself."

  "Congratulations."

  "You want the job?" The question came fast and hard, without hesitation.

  Outwardly, Burke showed no emotion, but his heart leapt and his mind immediately clicked with the idea. Excitement bubbled in his middle. "Coach high school football?"

  Coach Anderson laughed, shaking his silver head. "That's the offer, Burke. It's not the life in the spotlight you've been living, but the rewards are worth more than fame and money."

  Burke rested an elbow on the desk. "Money is not an issue. The pros have done well for me. Fame is a hollow experience at best. But I do have several job offers my agent wants me to consider. One for sports commentating, another for a sitcom."

  "An actor?"

  Burke chuckled. "It's a sports parody show. I did a couple of guest spots last season and apparently my stint boosted the ratings. They want me as a regular this year."