Beau raised his eyebrows a little. “How can the work of the Lord be measured in simple numbers?”
Sara wanted to laugh because she knew Beau was messing with him.
“Very true,” Jonathon said, switching to a humble missionary demeanor.
“Beau!” An attractive, red-haired woman floated to his side.
Beau’s eyes opened wide, and he pulled her into an embrace, laughing. “Candace? It’s so good to see you.”
She pulled away from him, her spaghetti strapped silver dress sparkling. “Yeah. My dad’s always dragging me to these things.” She flashed a white smile at Sara and looked her up and down like she clearly considered her competition.
“You’re not going to let an old friend sit out another song, are you?” She purred against him.
Beau laughed. “Excuse me, Candace and I go way back.” He took her hand and waved at Sara and Jonathon. “See you guys. It was nice to meet you. See you later.” He shrugged and whispered as he walked past. “I guess love is easy.”
Sara glared at him and then watched them start dancing. She knew her face was red, and she wasn’t certain why she felt angry.
“How do you know him?” Jonathon absently picked up her hand and started pulling her to another part of the dance floor.
“He teaches my entrepreneurship class. It’s the class I was talking to Sean about.”
He put both of his hands on her hips and started moving in a circle. Sara realized that he really didn’t know how to dance. It surprised her that the memory she had of them dancing was so different from the reality. Sara flashed back to the night she’d danced with him at the fair. She’d remembered turning and laughing with him. That was the night when she’d fallen in love with him.
“Sara.” Jonathon squeezed her a little at the waist.
She was brought back to the present. “I was just thinking about dancing with you—before . . .” She smiled at Jonathon.
He gave her a blank face for a moment and then registered understanding. “Oh, yeah.” He smiled brightly. “That was a great couple of weeks, wasn’t it?”
His dark brown hair shined, and Sara saw that handsome pre-missionary that she’d been in love with. “Yeah, it was.” She remembered so many things from that summer. He’d been her first love, her first kiss, and she’d known for two years that she would marry him.
“Kiss me, Jonathon.” Her heart was pounding, but she needed to know something. She felt almost desperate for him to kiss her.
He stopped dancing and smiled, his whole face brightening. “I love you, Sara.” His brown eyes radiated happiness. He licked his lips and bent to kiss her. Their lips met, and she felt her lips remembering, again, how it was that summer. She wanted to kiss him longer, but he pulled away. “We are going to have a perfect life together. I was telling my dad the other night that the land down the street from him would be perfect for a big house. I want to be there for my parents, like they’ve always been there for me, ya know. I want our lives to be like a patchwork quilt of togetherness, with them mixing in and out of their grandkid’s lives. And, I wanted to ask you a question.”
Sara tried to calm the anxiety she always felt when Jonathon spoke of the future. “Okay.”
“Are you worthy to go to the temple?” He pulled her closely to him and brushed his lips with hers.
Sara felt her stomach turn. “Wh-what?”
Jonathon smiled. “It’s coming soon. So just be ready.”
Sara felt sweat break out onto her forehead and a clammy cold sweat come over her. “I need to run to the bathroom.” She stumbled away from Jonathon.
“Sara!” He held to her arm.
“Jonathon, I’m fine. Let go.” She pulled away from him and ran out of the ballroom, down to the lower floor of the union. She rushed inside the bathroom and sat down on an old-style seventies lounge chair, trying to breathe slowly. She stood and put cold water on her face. She looked herself over closely in the mirror. Her fingers went to her lips, the lipstick had faded, but she thought about Jonathon’s comment.
“Sara?” She heard Beau’s voice from behind the bathroom door.
Chapter 26
She stood, smoothing out her dress and reapplying her lipstick.
“I know you’re in there.”
Sara pushed through the door. “What are you doing here?” It came out snappier than she had actually felt.
Beau had his back against the wall next to the bathroom door. He opened his eyes wide in clear confusion at Sara’s annoyance, then asked, “Do you know that most people die in the bathroom because they don’t feel well and they excuse themselves to the bathroom and then it might be hours before anyone realizes they’re dead.” He started walking to the stairs. “I just saved your life, Ms. Fairbanks. Or shall I say, Mrs. Adler?”
Sara glared at him and ignored his question. “Well, it wouldn’t be hours for me. Jonathon would have come to check on me.” She tried to appear unshaken. “Where’s Ms. Redhead?” They walked up the stairs together and into the ballroom. Sara noticed Jonathon over by a group of basketball players talking and laughing.
Beau chuckled softly. “He does look fraught with worry.”
Sara felt defensive. “Just go away, Beau.” She turned to walk to where Jonathon was.
Beau took her hand and spun her onto the dance floor. “I haven’t had a dance yet.”
Sara tried to pull away, but Beau spun her again and pulled her into an easy two-step. “Come on, Sara, what are you afraid of? Your guy is right there. And he’s busy. Dance with a cousin.” Beau flashed his infomercial smile. “I bet you haven’t even told him that I saved you that day at the airport. I bet he would appreciate me taking care of you.”
Sara felt the sarcasm in his words, and she glared at him. “All right, cousin, let’s see how good you really are.” She let herself go into the music and added some flair with her red dress, laughing at the surprise on Beau’s face.
He kept twirling and guiding, increasing the level of difficulty. Sara felt herself excited to see what Beau would do next with the steps. Before she knew what had happened the dance was over. Beau dipped her dramatically. He held her closely as he pulled her back up.
Realizing their faces were inches apart, her heart wouldn’t stop fluttering. It was like the slightest touch of his skin to hers would make her explode. “I can’t kiss you here.”
Beau inhaled deeply, smelling her like he would a flower. “Hmm, tempting.” He straightened and delivered her into the oncoming, and slightly concerned, Jonathon.
Jonathon took Sara’s hand, confusion on his face. “You seem to have recovered quickly.”
“Uh-yeah. It—I don’t really know what was wrong.” She stepped closer to Jonathon.
“Well,” Beau said, bowing his head slightly to them, “I think it’s time for me to make my exit.” He looked steadily at Jonathon. “That’s what a gentleman does; exit quietly when his turn is over with the lady.”
Jonathon looked at him with a puzzled look on his face.
“Goodbye, Beau.”
“I’ll see you later, Sara.” He nodded to her and turned toward the crowd of people on the sidelines.
**
Sara sat in Jonathon’s car. He’d been driving around the town with a pained look in his eyes. “It’s just complicated with him.”
She didn’t know what to do or what to say. How did she explain her relationship with Beau without making it seem like—well, like they were in a relationship?
The low lights in the cemetery shone brightly through the gentle snowflakes fluttering down. He pulled over to the side and turned to her. “Let’s walk.”
He opened her door and easily linked hands with her, pulling a melting snowflake to his lips. “You know what I miss most from my mission?”
Sara was jolted out of her thoughts, surprised at this turn of conversation. “No.”
He smiled and his brown eyes lighted up in the moonlight. He smelled like soap, fresh and clean. “I
miss knowing that every day will be an opportunity to talk to someone new about the gospel. That feeling that they might just take hold, ya know. They might see what their life could be. How much the Savior could change them? That’s something—to see a life change for the better. To see whole families change.” He shook his head, his eyes far away in another place.
Sara noticed how his brown hair, slicked back, had started falling around his eyes, wet from the snow. It was longer than when she’d seen him at his homecoming. He smiled and the dimple in his left cheek deepened.
He stopped walking, looking deeper into her eyes. He stepped closer to her and gently reached out and slid his fingers lightly over her face. “You’re so beautiful, Sara. I missed you so much.” He squeezed his eyes shut and let go of her hand, gripping both of his hands into fists.
She frowned. “What’s wrong, Jonathon?”
He walked in a circle, running his hands through his hair. Walking back to her, he took her hands into his own. “Sara, did I miss my chance with you? Did I?”
Sara couldn’t speak. She felt her mouth go dry, like she’d been caught in a lie. The hope in his eyes and the sadness in the set of his mouth made her stomach tie into a knot. What could she say? She looked away from him.
Letting his breath out in small puffs, he surprised her by pulling her closer, deeper into him until her head was lodged perfectly under his chin and she could feel him breathing. Vehemently, he shook his head. “I can’t let you go. I can’t.” His voice was raw.
She pulled away from him. Her heart ached, and her thoughts pulled her back to when he was leaving, and she was staying. The last night they’d spent together standing over the lake, the moonlight caressing their faces. Feelings from that night came rushing at her. The future had been so clear then. And—so far away. Now, the fairytale stood in front of her. Was she pushing it away?
Rising to her tiptoes she pulled his head down to her, the wetness from his tears touching her face. The tenderness of his lips pressed down on hers. His surprise came through with a small gasp and tightening of his hands on her shoulders.
“Sara.” He pulled back, searching her eyes. “Can we still make this work between us?”
Sara leaned back, warmth from the kiss rushing through her and fading just as quickly. “I want to say yes.” Part of her did. “I’ve loved you for two years.”
The last two years she’d thought of him, what he was doing, who he was meeting, wondering if he was thinking of her. “But no matter how much I’ve thought of you or wondered about you or—imagined my future with you—I can’t imagine it, Jonathon. I try to imagine it, and it doesn’t work. I have this picture of you and what you are—but you are different . . .” Her voice trailed off. Tears began to form in her own eyes.
Jonathon’s brow creased. “Yes, I am different.”
But that wasn’t it, not all of it. She hung her head down, the snowflakes falling gently against her shoes. “And—I am different too.”
She looked up at him. “I don’t think you know who I am, and I don’t know if you’ll like me.” She was crying—crying with the pain and relief of having said the truth.
Chapter 27
“Truthfully, tell me what in the heck is happening with you, girlfriend?” Genova towered over her bed. It was 7:30 a.m.
“Are you kidding me, Genova? Let me sleep,” Sara said, moaning and turning into her pillow.
“No way.” She held up her red dress, stained with hot chocolate. “How did this happen?”
Sara sat up, remembering her infraction and grabbing for the dress. “I’ll get it out, I promise. I was going to take it to the cleaner’s today.”
Genova gave her a relenting look and sat on her bed. “Kevin texted me this morning and said that Jonathon never came over to sleep there, where did he go?”
Sara leaned back, propping her head with another pillow. “I don’t know. A couple of the guys asked him to play a midnight game at the gym last night—maybe he stayed with them. We didn’t leave on the best of terms.” Misery started to settle into her heart again.
Genova’s eyes softened. “Really?”
Sara turned on her side and felt the tears coming off of her nose.
Genova rubbed her head. “What’s wrong?”
Sara sniffed. “I don’t know, Genova. I told him I wasn’t sure of us—well, more to the effect I wasn’t sure of me.” Sara rushed on in a gush of words. “I realized that I don’t think he knows me. I mean, I really don’t know him, just this idea of him—but he doesn’t know me either. And, when I’m with him—I don’t feel like I know me. I feel like I’m swinging back and forth, dangling from a cliff.” She sniffed harder, feeling a torrent of emotion sweep over her.
Genova hugged her. “You’ve been through so much.” She combed her hand down her hair. “Maybe you guys are just pushing too hard too fast, ya know. Can you just give it some time to get to know each other again?”
Sara collapsed back into the pillow. “And he’s gone. My dad’s gone.”
Genova patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve always gone home to him for Thanksgiving, but now he’s gone.”
Genova started fluttering. “Let me just give you some money to go home. I don’t want you here, alone.”
Sara shook her head no. “No, I got that job with Academic Affairs, and it’s perfect. I think I’ll be able to work on my business plan over the whole break. Really, I’m just tired and . . .”
“I’ll stay, then. I’ll just tell my mom . . .”
“No.” Sara cut her off. “This is your last Thanksgiving with your family too. I mean, before everything changes. I’m just overly dramatic right now. Don’t worry, my brothers have even offered to pay for me to go there or for them to come down here. But Tim’s wife is due soon, and they’ve all been tied up with the ranch and this oil leasing thing. I told them I would be home for Christmas, but I need to do this. And, Genova, you need to be with your family too.”
“Ugh—I just hate it for you.”
They both sat there. Nothing to say.
“Did he say something about getting married again?” Genova turned to her.
Sara nodded. “He asked me if I was temple worthy.”
“No!”
Sara closed her eyes. “And I felt like throwing up and ran for the bathroom. And then Beau showed up to see if I was okay.”
Genova’s eyes kept growing wider.
Sara couldn’t stop it all from tumbling out. “And, before that, I saw Beau dancing with this beautiful redhead and I felt . . . jealous. And then Beau and I danced, and I told him that I couldn’t kiss him.” She covered her face with her pillow, feeling the horror of it all upon her.
Genova gasped and laughed simultaneously. “Sheesh—who needs soap operas?”
“I know.” More tears flowed down her face, but she laughed a little at Genova. “I had a plan, Genova. I had a plan and now everything is falling apart. And I don’t even have my dad to give me proper advice and here I am . . . and not that you’re not proper advice . . .”
Genova squeezed her shoulder. “I understand.”
“And I don’t know if it even matters because I told Jonathon that I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me.”
Genova nudged her shoulder. “And—what did he say?”
Sara thought of his face. “He said we’d work it out. What should I do?” Sara felt like Genova might be the only person that kind of understood.
Genova scooted Sara over and laid back next to her on the bed. “I don’t know.” She shook her head back and forth. “It sounds like you do have more feelings than you realized for Beau. And . . . that maybe you don’t know Jonathon as well as you thought you did. What do you want to do?”
Sara wiped her face with her hands and took a deep breath. “Date both of them.”
Genova laughed.
Sara covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know.”
Genova sat up, putting her hand to her
mouth. “Why not? Why not give it a trial run with both of them?”
Sara threw a little pillow at her. “Right.”
Genova threw it back. “I’m serious.”
“How?”
Genova rubbed her chin like an old man thinking. “Hmm. Well, tell both of them that you want to date . . . both of them.”
Sara laughed again. “You can’t be serious.” She sighed. “I wonder what Beatrice would say?”
“Why not? If they get mad, you date the other one.”
Sara thought for a second, knowing Jonathon would probably be very mad. “But Jonathon’s mission president told him not to wait too long. Genova—he wants to know if I’m temple worthy so he can give me a ring. He’s serious.”
Genova crossed her arms. “But are you serious? Can you honestly tell me that you’re ready to drop out of school and work at the grocery store for insurance benefits or move to Provo?”
Sara looked at her, feeling generally miserable. “But it’s been two years. I’ve told everyone and our families are expecting it.”
“Do something unexpected, Sara. Do it for yourself. Do it for your dad. You know he wouldn’t want you to do this if you didn’t feel absolutely, one hundred percent head over heels in love with him.
Sara sighed. “I think I need to go to the mountain.” It was a phrase that Genova often said when she needed to talk with the Lord. It’s what Moses had done, gone to Mt. Sinai.
Genova smiled and stood, taking her dress with her. “Then why don’t you go to the mountain, and I will figure out how to save this dress.”
Sara frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Really. You have much bigger problems. I’ll figure it out.” She winked at her and shut the door softly behind her.
Sara slid gently to her knees, folding her arms, and bowing her head. “Dear Father—I need help . . .”
Chapter 28
Beau stared at the back of her head. He found himself trying to shift back to Bishop Archibald’s lesson again and again. He winced inwardly. How had this happened? It had not been his intention to come back to Laramie and—and fall for somebody. He was trying to figure out his own life—not start a life with someone else. Plus, she was so confused right now she didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. But—he couldn’t help himself . . . he liked her.
Mr. Wrong Page 13
