Mr. Wrong

by Taryn A. Taylor

  “But I do have to tell you that you will realize you’re not ready to marry him.”

  Sara felt sad. “Beau, don’t be my friend if you’re hoping I’ll change my mind.”

  Beau settled back in the seat and sighed. “I’m not hoping. I can’t marry you anyway.” His eyes seemed to pierce into her heart.

  Sara ignored his last comment. “How do you know he doesn’t make me happy?”

  Beau held her gaze for a moment. “Okay, does he?”

  Sara glared at him. “Yes.” She knew that wasn’t the complete truth, at least not yet. She felt like she didn’t know him quite yet.

  “Hmm. And what was your comment about not being able to finish your degree?”

  Sara looked at her hands in her lap.

  “He probably wants to move back home when he’s done with school and live next to his parents.”

  Sara didn’t say anything, then laughed. “You live next to your mother.”

  Beau frowned. “It’s different.”

  Sara giggled. “It’s exactly the same.”

  Biting into his lip he stood up. “I don’t know much about him, but he probably doesn’t realize that you want to do so many things with your life. That you are smart and beautiful and want to save the world; does he know that?”

  Turning back to her, the moonlight hit his features and made his whole face look more chiseled and hard. “Sara, do you have a five-year plan—together? Or are you fitting into his five-year plan?”

  Sara tried not to look miserable. “Every marriage requires sacrifice.”

  “Sara,” he looked in her eyes. “Does he realize you don’t just want to live in someone’s shadow?”

  She didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to cry. “Take me home, Beau.” It was a whisper, but it was insistent. “I can’t do this. I didn’t plan for this. Everything’s changing so quickly.” She felt lost.

  “Sara.” He was beside her. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you back home, let’s take the truck.”

  They drove in silence. Sara didn’t know what she could say—she didn’t know what she wanted to say.

  Her phone rang as they pulled in front of her apartment. “Martha?”

  “I didn’t know who else to call; they’re taking him to the hospital.”

  “What? Martha—what is happening?” Fear gripped her chest and she put a hand on Beau’s arm.

  “I need to go with him, Sara.” Martha’s voice broke off into a sob.

  “I’m with Beau, we’ll come get you.”

  Beau turned the truck around and began speeding down the street toward the Ivinson Home. “What happened?” He turned the radio off and kept his eyes on the road.

  Panic surfaced in her chest. “I don’t know. Go faster.”

  Beau looked at her sharply. He took her hand. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

  Sara took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

  Martha was standing in front of the Ivinson home. Beau got out to help her into the truck.

  “I’m sorry, kids.” Her hair was matted, and Sara noticed her normally done up face had no makeup. “I didn’t know who else to call?”

  “You’re fine.” Sara linked her arm with Martha’s. “What happened?”

  Chapter 24

  “We were in his room watching one of our shows, and I looked over and he was clutching his hand to his chest with a really weird expression on his face. I asked him if he was all right and he nodded, but—when he didn’t move—I called 911. They said he’s had a heart attack.” Martha gripped the side of the truck door and closed her eyes. “He can’t die.”

  Sara gave Beau a worried look and squeezed Martha to her. “It’ll be all right.” Thoughts of her dad came rushing in and she pushed them away. Now was not the time to have a breakdown about her dad.

  At the hospital they waited for a few hours until the doctors finally came out to talk to them.

  “Are you family?” He looked at Martha.

  Martha didn’t hesitate. “Well—I’m his fiancé.” She averted her eyes to Sara and Beau and then back to the doctor. “His son is coming from Denver right now. I called him. That’s all Larry has left in the world. Well,” she said, breaking off into tears. “And me. I sure love that man.”

  Sara’s heart warmed.

  The doctor nodded. “He’s all right, Mam. He just suffered a mild heart attack.”

  Martha leaned into Sara with relief.

  “I think he wants to see you—are you Martha?”

  “Can we go in too?” Sara helped straighten Martha up.

  The doctor smiled. “I think that would be all right. But not for very long.”

  Before they walked into his room, Martha turned to them, whispering, “I just had to see him—we’re not engaged, okay.”

  Sara nodded and pretended to lock up her lips.

  When they walked into Larry’s room, Sara clutched Beau’s arm, having memories of her father assault her. Beau stepped closer and supported her.

  “He’s fine.” Beau whispered in her ear.

  Sara was surprised at how Martha pulled herself together so well and seemed to dance to Larry’s bedside. “Darling, we were so worried about you.” She took his hand, and he tried to smile.

  “I guess the old ticker isn’t ready to give out yet.” Larry covered his hand with hers, and Sara noticed that the look Martha was giving Larry finally seemed to match the way he always looked at her.

  Sara went to his bed and took his other hand. “You okay?” She couldn’t stop her tears.

  Larry’s smile was soft. “I’m okay, sweet darling. But maybe we’ll have to hold up on the dance lessons for a while.”

  Sara laughed and wiped her tears.

  Larry’s voice was raspy and his green eyes watery. “Can I have a blessing, Sara.”

  Sara couldn’t believe what he’d just asked for. She didn’t know he was a member of the church. “What Larry?”

  His freckled hand rubbed across his forehead. Turning to her, he smiled. “Heck, call up old Bishop Archibald. He’s my home teacher.”

  An hour later, Bishop Archibald and another man showed up, leaving their hats on the chair next to the door. Archibald was dressed in a white shirt and tie. Lightly he put his hand on Larry’s arm. “Brother Garrison, so glad you called.” He turned and raised his eyebrows. “Sara, Beau.” He smiled warmly. He stretched his hand to Martha. “I’m Bishop Archibald.” He gestured to the other man Sara didn’t recognize. “This is my son, Kevin.”

  Martha smiled and was kind, but her eyes were hesitant. “Thanks for coming.”

  He turned to Larry. “Now what’s happened?”

  “Well, I’ve gone and had myself a heart attack.” Larry grimaced for a second. “Thanks for coming. I don’t know if the Lord wants to help me or not.”

  Archibald chuckled. “The Lord is always willing, Brother Garrison. Do you know that? Do you know that our Savior reaches out to us all the time and all he wants is for us to reach back?”

  Larry hesitated, looking intently at Bishop Archibald’s face. When he finally answered his voice was tired. “I haven’t always lived the way I should.” His eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know if the Lord can bless me. My momma was really active when I was a boy. One thing she always told us is that if we weren’t doing our part—the Lord couldn’t do his part.” He cleared his throat and focused on the Bishop. “I don’t know how to do my part. But—I know I need His help.”

  Bishop Archibald took his friend’s hand in both of his own. “Larry, I can testify to you that the Lord loves you. He wants you to come unto him. He wants you to feel the love he has for you. And—you are worthy of a blessing. I know it. Don’t you feel it?”

  The spirit was strong and Sara shivered with goosebumps that lighted on her arms.

  Archibald smiled, and Sara noticed that relief washed over his face. “Let me give you a blessing, ya old goat. Let me give you a blessing and then we’ll talk more later about your part.”

&nb
sp; Exhaling Larry nodded. “Okay.”

  Archibald got his oil out and looked at Beau. “Do you want to help us, son?”

  Beau hesitated then shook his head. “Not today, Bishop.”

  Sara detected Beau’s awkwardness as she bowed her head and folded her arms.

  The blessing was a little long, as anything Archibald said would be a little long, but very specific and very comforting. The spirit was strong, and Sara noticed Larry’s tears softly running down his cheeks. This nagging feeling pulled at the edges of Sara’s heart. Why wouldn’t he help give a blessing?

  “I think you’ll be around for a while more my friend.”

  Tearing up, Larry grimaced in pain. He put his hand to his side and turned to Archibald. “Really, thank you.”

  Bishop squeezed his arm and then turned to the rest of them. “I’ve been this old buzzard’s home teacher for twenty-two years.”

  “And he’s always asked me what I needed, and I’ve always told him nothing . . . until today.” Larry smiled and laid his head back on the hospital bed.

  “Well, I’m afraid it’s probably time for you all to leave.” Martha fussed over Larry’s pillows. “I think he’s tired.”

  “Can we take you back?” Beau offered.

  Martha scoffed. “I’m not going anywhere. Nope. I put my toothbrush in my purse and there’s an extra bed over there. If it’s okay with Larry?” She looked at him affectionately.

  Larry’s soft voice croaked out. “If you can stand me, I would like that very much.” His cheeks reddened and Sara’s heart ached for him, but she was so happy to see this show of devotion on Martha’s part. Maybe now Larry would realize that he just needed to ask Martha to marry him and enjoy the time they had left together. It didn’t matter that they’d both loved other people. All that mattered was being able to love each other now.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow to check on you guys.” Sara hugged Martha and patted Larry’s arm.

  Sara and Beau walked out with Brother Archibald.

  Bishop Archibald turned to them in the elevator, looking very self-satisfied. “Will you be the next two I hear of engaged at the institute?”

  Chapter 25

  Genova stood behind Sara and watched her apply her second coat of mascara. “It’s not like you’re engaged—is it?”

  Putting down the mascara Sara laughed. “I have no idea—well, technically he hasn’t done anything official. Let’s go out into the front room.”

  Genova sat next to Kevin on the couch and nodded at Sara. “You do look amazing. Even though you don’t like formal dances.”

  “Thanks.” Sara smiled. “Her dress was on loan from Genova. The red silk and velvet was form-fitting to the waist and then flared out just below the knee. It was perfect for dancing.

  Genova searched her eyes.

  Sara heaved herself onto a chair dramatically. “Am I just hanging onto a dream of what I thought he was?”

  “Give it time, Sara.” Kevin smiled at her from across the room. “Returned missionaries take a while to reacclimatize so to speak.” He nodded at her with certainty.

  Genova patted her hand. “Just try to have a good time.”

  **

  The party was held in one of the union ballrooms. Sara walked in and noticed that there was a red carpet set up and the tables were beautifully decorated in red and black.

  “This is shwanky.” Jonathon looked around and nodded his head in approval. He stood taller than most of the people there and scanned the crowd for the basketball team, pointing to them.

  “What is this event for?” Sara didn’t realize so many people would be here.

  Jonathon started pulling her across the room. “It’s an alumni event with all the departments and different donors they are honoring. I’ll get to meet a lot of past players.” He glanced over at her. “Do you like that color of lip stick?”

  Sara flinched a little. It felt like he was disapproving. “What do you mean?”

  “It just seems a little bright, that’s all. But I really think you look great tonight. Did you say that’s Genova’s dress? It just doesn’t look like your style.” He squeezed her hand affectionately.

  Sara immediately felt annoyed, but she could see the basketball players gathered around a couple of large tables, and she put on her happy face. The coach stood and waved Jonathon over. “Let me introduce all of you to Jonathon Adler. He may be joining us after Christmas. He played one year for BYU Idaho, and now I’m trying to pull him over to the dark side.”

  A couple of the players laughed.

  “We’re not so bad, Jon.” One of the guys at the table called out. “Hmm—at least not when you play for us.”

  The guys all laughed and the coach smiled. “Sit here, Jonathon.” He motioned to two chairs in the middle of another table.

  Sara planted a smile on her face and tried to make small talk with the others around them.

  “I think you’re in my entrepreneurship class.” One of the guys at the table leaned over to talk to Sara. “My name’s Sean.”

  Sean appeared to be alone. Sara squinted at him but didn’t think she recognized him.

  “I sit in the back and keep quiet. That guy is intense—amazing—but intense. I loved your wheelchair idea by the way. I think it sounds like it’ll work.”

  Sara felt like a million bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. “Do you think?”

  “Oh yeah. I was wondering what companies you’ve looked into for mass producing them? My father works for a medical supplies retailer, and I bet he could help you with some figures.”

  Sara fell into easy conversation with Sean over dinner about the business plans both of them were trying to write. Jonathon talked basketball with the players, and the coach swooped Jonathon away to introduce him to alumni after the big program. Sara moved with their table over to the dancing side of the ballroom.

  Sean put his hand out to her. “Want to dance?”

  Sara nodded, appreciating the fact she had someone next to her. “I would love to.”

  Sean was a little jerky with the steps, but Sara laughed with him and discovered she also had Accounting II with him.

  Sara tried to keep from getting stepped on. “How come I’ve never met you before?”

  Sean nudged his head to the side and smiled. “Because I’m a dumb jock, and you’re a serious student.”

  She felt pity for Sean. He didn’t seem to be a star on the court or in school. “Oh, whatever, your business plan sounds very solid.”

  A new song came on, and Sean asked her to dance again. She couldn’t even see Jonathon anywhere and agreed.

  He leaned closer to her and peered deeply into her eyes. “I wanted to sit by you, but you always rush in and out of class like you have a million things on your mind. I’ve watched you before.”

  Sara was starting to feel a little unease being with Sean. And she surely didn’t want to be trapped with him the rest of the evening. “Oh—well.” She scanned for someone she knew she could go talk to. Then she saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. His spikey hair and boots were a dead giveaway.

  “You know,” she said, patting Sean on the shoulder, “I see Professor Hennings, and I think I’m going to go ask him a question about my business plan.” She dashed away from him.

  Beau broke free of the group of professors he stood with and moved toward her. He smiled. “You couldn’t stay away from me?”

  “Um—could we walk to the other side of the room for a minute and pretend like your my professor and I’m asking you a question.”

  Beau frowned and then the side of his mouth curved into a smile. He walked with her. “I am your professor.”

  Sara let her breath out quickly and pointed at him, accusingly, “You always say you’re not a real professor.”

  “True.” Beau looked at Sean and then turned back to her. “I was noticing that Sean seems to have taken an interest in you this evening.” He glanced quickly at another part of the room. “It seems
like the missionary is very occupied.”

  They stopped next to a table filled with all sorts of desserts. “The coach wants to introduce him around. He’s schmoozing him.”

  Beau gave her a look.

  “I know it sounds weird. Jonathon has an offer from the Y and UW.”

  “Really? So will your credits transfer if he chooses the Y?”

  Sara shrugged, trying not to feel miserable. “I don’t know.”

  Beau fiddled with his red silk tie that hung loosely around his neck. He looked like a student himself. “So, is the plan to get married at Christmas?” He gently ran his hand down her forearm and across her fingers.

  “Beau.” Sara frowned at him.

  “I’m sorry. You’re just—that dress . . .”

  Sara turned away and tried not to giggle. “Stop, you’ll get in trouble.”

  He sighed. “Sara, if you didn’t notice—I don’t need this job.”

  Sara saw Jonathon walking toward them with a strange look on his face.

  Sara felt like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

  “Hey.” Jonathon looked at Sara then to Beau.

  Sara didn’t even know what to say.

  Beau smiled stretching out his hand. “Beau Hennings. You must be the missionary.”

  Sara gave Beau a sharp look.

  Jonathon smiled, looking satisfied. “Yep, I guess everyone’s heard about me?” He beamed at Sara like he’d just won a prize.

  Beau leaned back casually against the dessert table. “So where did you serve?”

  “Japan.”

  “I hear that’s a tough mission. How many did you baptize?”

  Sara couldn’t believe he’d asked that.

  Jonathon didn’t flinch. “Eight. The average is two. I figured that if missionaries couldn’t, at least, baptize once a quarter they were just useless. I told the mission president that too . . . when I was zone leader.”

  Beau nodded, looking unimpressed, but polite.

  “Where did you serve?”

  “Mexico.”

  “Oh man, you’re so lucky. How many did you baptize?”

  Sara couldn’t believe that Jonathon was acting like it had been a basketball game and they were tallying points.