by Debby Mayne
Judd couldn’t believe she was being so nice about his stupid comment. “At the risk of sounding insensitive, let me get the tea started.”
Shannon tilted her head back and belted out a hearty laugh. He felt a joyous sensation coursing through him at the sound of her happiness. She was doing much better than she had been back at the church.
“That’s not insensitive at all,” she said. “In fact, I find you to be a very sensitive man.”
“Sensitive, but strong,” he said, playfully flexing a muscle.
“Oh, yes, of course. Very strong. Macho, in fact.”
“Let’s not get too carried away. We don’t want this to go to my head.”
Judd left Shannon sitting on the couch with the remote pointed at the TV. As he rummaged through the cupboards, he once again found himself in prayer—something that was happening more often these days.
Lord, I pray for wisdom as Shannon and I get to know each other. Guide us in our relationship and help us get closer to You.
“The tea bags are on the little shelf to the left of the stove,” Shannon called out. “Use the big mugs on the mug tree.”
“Sure thing.”
Judd made himself at home in Shannon’s kitchen. He was fascinated and amused by the way everything matched with a pig motif—from the small row of tea tins on the shelf beside the stove, to the mugs and wire rack they hung from.
Once the tea had finished steeping, Judd carried both mugs into the living room, where Shannon sat with her legs curled beneath her. She accepted her tea with a smile as she patted the cushion next to her.
“I’ll sit over here.” He chose the chair that was angled toward her position on the couch. “I can see you better.”
He wasn’t about to sit next to her now. Every time he caught a whiff of her fresh, clean scent, he felt an overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and draw her closer.
“Mm, this is good,” she said as she sipped the tea.
“There really wasn’t much to it. Just heat the water and pour over the tea bag.”
“Some men can’t even do that.”
Judd opened his mouth to make one of his typical sarcastic comments about men who couldn’t boil water, but he caught himself. That might touch on something that would send her over the edge again.
“Can you cook?” she asked with interest.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “I heat up a mean can of soup.”
Her smile brought a flash of sunshine into the room. “How about real food?”
“A few things. Roast beef, baked chicken, meatloaf, chili, spaghetti. Usual stuff.”
“I’m impressed.”
“How about you?” he asked. “How are your culinary skills?”
“Not good, I’m afraid. My mom always shooed me out of the kitchen. She told me I didn’t need to cook with my looks.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t sound conceited when she said that. Her statement was very matter-of-fact rather than boastful.
“So you’ve always wanted to be a model?”
“My mom wanted that. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, so I figured I might as well go after her dream.”
Her confession hit him hard. How many times had he heard about the expectations of parents forcing their children to do what they had no business doing? More than he could count, that’s for sure.
“Did you like modeling?”
“Some of it, but not all. A lot of people think it’s all glamour and fun.”
“That’s what I would’ve thought.” Judd blew into his tea before taking another sip. “Is it really bad?”
“No, not bad. Just constraining. I had to watch everything I put in my mouth. I couldn’t get sunburned when I went to the beach. Even tan lines could be a problem if I had to model clothes.”
“Yeah, I can see where tan lines might be bad.”
She took a sip of tea before adding, “Not to mention the big blemish that would pop up the day before a big shoot. It never failed.”
“Oh, that had to be awful. I feel sorry for the makeup artist having to deal with that one.”
Shannon’s warm smile let him know his teasing wasn’t painful for her. That was a huge relief. “How about you? Have you always wanted to be a teacher?”
“No, not really. I never knew what I wanted, but I figured I like kids, and English is something I understand. It seemed like the most natural thing to get into.”
A flash of pain shot through her expression. She glanced down into her mug as if all her thoughts centered in the hot, steamy liquid.
“I’m sorry.”
Her head quickly shot up, and she looked at him quizzically. “Sorry? For what?”
“For upsetting you.”
“You didn’t upset me. You just made me think.”
“I hate making people think. Forgive me.”
“There you go again.” Her laughter was rich and genuine. “I like being around you, Judd. You’re such a happy person.”
“I like being around you, too, Shannon,” he said as he stood. “But unfortunately, I need to leave. Tomorrow morning comes awfully early, and I have to get up with the birds.”
Shannon walked him to the door. He saw that she was steady on her feet. “Thanks, Judd. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He suddenly felt awkward, like one of the seventh grade boys in his classes. Should he just tell her good-bye and leave? Or should he risk a kiss?
Taking a chance and pulling up all the courage he could, he leaned toward her and dropped a quick kiss on her lips before backing away. She grinned and waved.
Shannon never imagined herself in this situation, with such an intense feeling for anyone besides Armand. Judd’s simple, chaste kiss had sent tingles down her spine and made her feel all wobble-kneed.
As soon as she closed the door behind him, she headed for her bedroom. It wasn’t very late, but the ordeal of going into shock over some stupid car backfiring had wiped her out.
She changed into her nightgown and crawled under the covers, hoping to get plenty of rest so she could think straight in the morning. However, thoughts of Judd kept popping into her mind, preventing her from falling asleep. Her lips still tingled from the sweetest kiss she’d ever had.
She eventually gave up and flipped on the light beside her bed. Maybe reading something would make her sleepy.
At first, she reached for a fashion magazine, but it bored her to tears. She got up and wandered around the apartment, until she spotted her Bible on the kitchen table. Maybe this’ll help, she thought.
Curling up with the Bible and a concordance she’d gotten from Janie, Shannon figured she needed to see what God had to say about her fears.
Her concordance showed a long list of scriptures that spoke of fear, so Shannon looked up each one and tried to relate to what it said. Finally, she read Matthew chapter fourteen, verses twenty-two through thirty-six and found comfort. Surely, if Jesus could protect Peter on the stormy sea, He’d watch over her in this turbulent time.
Although she’d never immersed herself in the Word before, Shannon never questioned the existence of Jesus—or that He was the Son of God. But until now, she hadn’t given Him much thought.
She read the passage over and over, shutting her eyes occasionally to let it sink in. Just as Jesus had reached out His hand to Peter, He had offered a hand to Shannon and allowed her to survive the horrible car crash. There had to be a reason she’d gone through it, just as there was a reason she’d survived. Could it be that He’d allowed her tragedy so she’d slow down and pay attention to Him?
Finally, she closed the Bible and turned off the light. Darkness only seemed to enhance the sounds of night, causing her heart to hammer in her chest.
For several minutes, Shannon stared up at the ceiling, illuminated by the moonlight that filtered through the sheers on her window. Christ’s love filled her heart as she accepted Him as her Savior. Eventually, she shut her eyes and prayed.
Lord, Jesus, my life is in
Your hands. I know you don’t want me to be fearful like this, but I don’t know what to do to make the horrors of my experience go away. Please show me what you want me to do.
She let out a deep sigh before finally whispering, “Amen.”
The sound of the telephone startled Shannon from her sound sleep. She lifted her head and glanced at the clock on the nightstand as she reached for the receiver. It was already after eight.
“Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping,” Janie said.
“Afraid so,” Shannon replied as she sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes.
“You okay?”
“I guess. I had a hard time going to sleep last night.”
“Judd was really worried about you. I hope you didn’t mind me letting him take you home.”
“Of course I didn’t mind. He’s very sweet.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Janie said. “Like maybe someone to come over for a little while? I can take off work if you need me.”
Shannon managed a chuckle. “I’m not that bad off—not yet, anyway. Don’t take time off work for me.”
“I’ll do it, you know.”
“Yes, I know you will. And I really appreciate that.”
“You have my work number, right?”
“Yes,” Shannon replied, “and your cell phone number.”
“Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Promise?”
“Stop trying to mother me, Janie. I’m a big girl. I can be alone.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Don’t worry so much. I just had a little setback last night. I’ll be just fine.”
“Well, if you’re sure …”
“I’m positive. Now go on and get to work. I need to get up and do a few things around here.”
After they hung up, Shannon stepped into her slippers, grabbed her Bible, and trudged through her apartment. She started the coffee before sitting down to go over the Bible verses she’d read the night before. It was amazing how much peace she got from reading scripture and realizing how much Peter had to rely on God. Jesus never let him down, just as He promised He’d never let her down.
Later in the afternoon, after Shannon finished straightening the apartment, her mother dropped by.
“Have you even left the apartment at all today?” her mom asked.
“No, not yet.”
“You really shouldn’t be sitting around this place, Shannon. You need to get out, be around people.”
Her mom had stormed through the living room to the kitchen. She put several plastic containers into the refrigerator before plunking her purse on the dining room table and rummaging through it. She whipped out a couple of brochures featuring young, perfect-looking women on the front.
“I’ve gotten some information about plastic surgery. I thought you might want to start looking around for someone to take care of your … scar.”
Shannon reached up and touched her cheek. Her mother made the same face she always did and quickly looked away.
“You don’t have to live with that, you know.”
“I know, but I’m not ready to have plastic surgery.”
“You don’t want to wait too long, Shannon.”
“It hasn’t been that long. Let me rest for a little while and figure out what I need to do.”
Her mother turned to face her, planted her fist on her hip, and shook her head. “Shannon McNab, you’re smarter than you’re acting. You know as well as I do that your agent won’t be able to hold everyone off much longer. All your accounts will start looking for a replacement if you don’t come back soon. You need to get better as quickly as possible, or your career might be over.”
“Would that be so bad?” Shannon asked defiantly.
“How can you say something like that?” her mother shrieked. “You know that would be awful. You’ve worked too long and hard to let it come to this. You’re a supermodel. That’s what you do. That’s who you are.”
Shannon fought the urge to argue with her mother. Being a supermodel was only what she did for a living—not who she was. But arguing with Sara McNab was futile—this was something she knew from experience. Once that woman set her mind to something, she was a shark. She chomped down and never let go. Shannon pursed her lips and offered a slight nod, holding back all her thoughts and frustrations.
Her mother reached out and gently touched her undamaged cheek. “I’ll leave the list of plastic surgeons for you to look at when you’re feeling a little better. Don’t wait too long.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Shannon said.
“I can tell you’re still pretty down about this, Shannon. The only thing that’ll snap you out of this mood is getting back to work. Trust me.”
Taking the path of least resistance, Shannon let her mother talk. There was nothing she could say to change her mind. All her mom had ever wanted for Shannon was fame and fortune—mostly because that had been what she’d wanted in her own life many years ago. Instead, she’d gotten married and had Shannon six months later, which had killed her dreams of acting or modeling. Besides, enough people had told Sara that she was too short to be taken seriously as a model, and her Southern accent was too thick to make it as an actress—which was why she’d enrolled Shannon in diction classes at a very young age.
“I don’t want my daughter sounding like a bumpkin,” she’d told everyone who stood still long enough to listen.
As Shannon’s mother chattered incessantly about all the things they’d do to get her back on her modeling career path, Shannon pretended to listen. Instead, she kept thinking about the scripture she’d read to find comfort.
When silence fell between them, Shannon turned to her mom. “We used to go to church when I was little. But I was wondering … well … have you ever read the Bible, Mom?”
“Some of it. Back when I was a little girl, my parents made me go to Sunday school. They made me memorize Bible verses.” Tilting her head to one side, she offered a questioning look. “Why?”
Shannon shrugged. “I was just wondering if you ever stopped to think about all the things Jesus did for us.”
Looking a little stunned, her mother let out a nervous giggle. “All that Bible stuff took place a long time ago, Shannon. This is now. I’m sure God would want you to go back to your job and not worry about such things.”
“I’m not worried,” Shannon said.
“Look, sweetheart, I really need to run. Some of the women at the club are expecting me. Let me know if you need something, okay?”
“Sure, Mom.”
After a quick air kiss, Shannon showed her mother to the door. After closing it, she let out a breath of frustration. Obviously, her mom hadn’t given much thought to her faith. Just as obviously, talking about it made her very uncomfortable. Shannon understood. She’d been the same way until her first brush with Janie’s Bible study group.
Shannon went back to her room to play with her makeup when the doorbell rang again. Probably her mother. She must have forgotten something.
She went to the door and yanked it open. There stood Judd, grinning, a cake server in one hand and a plastic sack dangling from the other.
“Hi, there. Thought you might be hungry.”
“Not really,” Shannon admitted. “My mom brought some food, but I haven’t gotten into it yet.”
“I’m sure it’s better than what I have, but remember, it’s the thought that counts.” He nodded toward the kitchen, and Shannon moved out of his way. “Maybe you can eat just a little for me.”
Judd’s very presence brought a smile to Shannon’s face. She followed him and watched as he put a big round plastic cake server on the counter. Then he stuck a couple tubs of yogurt on the top shelf of her refrigerator. He groped around the bottom of the bag and pulled out some Ramen noodles that he placed on the counter beside the cake server.
Shannon pointed to the plastic containe
r. “What’s that?”
“German chocolate cake. I hope you like it.”
It had been years since she’d tasted German chocolate cake, but she remembered how it tasted.
“I love it,” she said as her mouth watered. “How about the noodles? What kind?”
“I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked,” he said, “so I just grabbed some creamy chicken.”
