Something of a Storm (All in Good Time Book 1)

by St. James, Brooke

  I watched as Zack pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed the guy a card. Zack had just started walking over to the bench I'd chosen when the first customer came up. We were close enough to see what was going on, and almost close enough to hear, but not quite.

  "I got as close as I could without being obvious," I said, beaming at him as he walked toward me.

  He sat down next to me.

  "I'm excited!" I whispered.

  "Me too."

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows as if he was casually waiting for something. I took a cue from him and shifted to sit sideways to avoid staring straight at the register.

  "Someone's checking out," I whispered. I kept my mouth still like a ventriloquist, and he chuckled under his breath.

  The person checking out was a middle-age guy. He had one of those handheld baskets full of groceries. He looked around in disbelief when the clerk told him someone had paid for his stuff—it was like he thought someone was playing a trick on him.

  We tried not to be obvious, but we watched as the clerk explained that there had been no mistake. The guy walked out with a huge smile on his face that was only rivaled by the size of the cashier's smile.

  Zack and I made small talk with each other, but none of it made much sense because we were just talking to make it seem as if we weren't watching the action at isle 7. I was giddy with excitement the whole time. It was literally the most fun thing I had ever done in my life.

  One by one, we watched as people got their groceries paid for. They all reacted differently. The fourth guy refused. He was nice about it, but he said he had no problem paying for his own groceries and didn't need the gift. I never expected anyone to refuse, no matter how rich or proud they were, but that guy did.

  Everyone else, however, accepted the gift and was excited to receive it. The tenth customers were a couple of teenage girls who had frozen pizzas, chips and ice cream. They might as well have won the lottery. They whooped and hollered and gave each other high fives before walking out giggling.

  The cashier, who obviously loved it as much as we did, motioned for Zack to come get his card after the tenth customer. Zack was on his way to the checkout when a young woman with a baby got in line. Unlike the other customers, she had a big cart full of groceries. It was completely stacked with a big box of diapers and a case of baby formula on the bottom.

  Zack caught sight of her and motioned with one finger in the air for the cashier to go ahead and do this one more. He turned on his heel and came back to the bench to sit next to me. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. He sat on the edge of the bench, trying to look distracted, and I cozied up next to him to watch the transaction.

  It was a huge basket full of groceries that seemed to take forever to ring up. I watched with anticipation, hoping she wouldn't be like the fourth customer and refuse the gift. She started to hand the cashier her credit card, and we watched as he explained that someone else was paying for the groceries.

  Like most of the others she looked around, trying to figure out what was going on or if it was even true. She said something to the cashier, and he shook his head and spoke back to her. They had another exchange. He was smiling and it seemed like he was trying to assure her it wasn't some sort of trick.

  Then Zack and I watched in astonishment as she sunk her face into her hands. She stayed there for a few long seconds, and the clerk looked at us with wide eyes. "She's crying," he mouthed, pointing to her. Zack and I looked at each other with matching perplexed expressions. I assumed it was a happy cry, but neither of us knew what to do.

  The cashier motioned for Zack to go over there, so he stood without a word and began to walk toward them. I saw the cashier say something to the lady and point to Zack, and the next thing I knew she was walking toward him with open arms.

  The baby sat contentedly in her car seat as the lady squeezed Zack and thanked him. I watched as she tearfully explained some things to him, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Zack took his wallet out of his pocket and tried to give her some cash, but she refused, pointing to the cart full of groceries. She hugged him again and then off she went still smiling and wiping her tears as she pushed the buggy out of the store.

  No one else was in line, and no one seemed to be approaching. Zack and the cashier had a brief conversation before he shook Zack's hand and returned his card to him. I was standing by the bench when Zack came back my way. I'd gotten a little teary-eyed watching the whole thing, and couldn't wait to hear what went down. I reached out and hugged him as he approached me just like the lady had done—I couldn’t help myself. I felt love and happiness oozing out of me as a result of watching him do that just now.

  "That was crazy," I said, squeezing him.

  "She said her husband just lost his job and she had no idea how she was going to pay for those groceries just now," he said. He spoke a little stiffly as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

  "Oh my goodness, are you serious? What'd you tell her?"

  "I didn't know what to say, so I told her God is good just like you told me that guy said."

  I put my hands over my mouth and giggled, unable to contain my excitement. "I saw you try to give her money."

  "I tried, but she said the groceries were enough."

  We walked out of the store holding hands. I thanked him for the amazing experience, and he turned it right around, thanking me for the idea. We talked about it the whole way back to my apartment. I told him I was starting to feel a little dizzy and nauseous which was par for the course with my symptoms, but I had no regrets about getting out of the house for this wonderful experience.

  I invited him up when we got back, and he agreed, but only to walk me inside. He said he knew I needed the rest, and he needed to go anyway since he was helping one of his friends move the next morning. I'd been so self centered with my health catastrophe the whole time we'd gotten to know each other that it never occurred to me that he had actual friends. I felt the oddest sensation when he spoke of them. It wasn't jealousy, but it was similar to that. It made me feel like there was a whole other Zack I didn't even know—one with a life and friends that didn't have anything to do with me and my recovery.

  "What's the matter?" he asked, noticing me in deep thought about it all.

  We had just pulled into my driveway, and he asked the question as he turned off the truck. Neither of us made a move to get out right away.

  "Nothing," I said, trying to smile past the odd feeling I had. "I was just thinking about your life. I guess it never occurred to me that there was this whole other side of you that I knew nothing about."

  "No there's not. There's just one me." He smiled at me. "I'm Zack. There's only one of me."

  "I'm talking about your friends and family. I guess I just realized that I don't know those people at all."

  He reached over the console and grabbed my hand. "You will," he said. "I just didn't think you were up for a big meet and greet quite yet."

  I laughed and shook my head. "I'm definitely not up for a meet and greet."

  He squeezed my hand. "You'll get there," he said. "And when you do, my friends and family will be waiting to meet you. You'll love them and they'll love you and it'll be one big happy ending."

  I giggled and reached out to open the truck door. "Are you walking me up?"

  He answered with a smile and we both got out of the truck. We walked inside and I told him to wait in the kitchen while I went to the bedroom to get something. Earlier that day, I added the name of the bakery to the drawing and I wanted to see what he thought of it.

  "I'm still working on it, but I wanted to show you where it would go just in case you had suggestions," I said, handing it to him for inspection.

  He only looked at it for a few seconds. "I can't wait to give this to him," he said, holding it out for me to take back.

  I took it from him, and the second his hand was free, he tapped his finger onto the table a few times. My gaze shifted to the spot wh
ere he pointed. It was an envelope from Sacred Heart Medical Center. It was clearly addressed to me, but without hesitation, he picked it up, folded it in half and put it into the back pocket of his jeans.

  "Is this the only one you have so far?"

  I hesitated, not wanting to lie. I shook my head. "I, uh, that's my mail."

  "It's mine now," he said. He held out his hand palm up. "Hand over the other ones."

  "Zack…"

  "Laney, don't be difficult. I know you need some rest, so just make this easy and hand me the bills."

  He flexed his fingers telling me to hand them over.

  I wanted to be stubborn, but the fact of the matter was, I couldn’t afford them. I'd already been billed for over $7,000, and that wasn't all I'd be getting. He flexed his fingers again, and I looked at him to find that he was staring at me with an impassive glare.

  "I'm serious, Laney, I want to do this. I wanted to do this before I even knew I loved you. Imagine how much more I want to now."

  I felt the blood rush to my face. My heart began pounding in my chest. I started shifting through mail as a means of distraction. I came up with the two other invoices I'd received and held them out reluctantly for him to take. He took them, folded them, and stashed them in his pocket just as he'd done the other one.

  "You promise that's all?"

  I smiled shyly. "I promise."

  He pulled me into his arms. "Aren't you gonna say it back?"

  Boom, boom, boom, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

  "Say what back?" I asked like the big idiot I was. What was wrong with me?

  He smiled confidently at me as he gave me a squeeze. "Say you love me back."

  "I thought you accidently said that." I said. It was true. I was still having trouble believing someone like him could like me much less love me.

  "I didn't say it by accident, Laney. I love you. My mom called me that day after she came to see you and she said, 'Zack you need to think about helping this girl. I think God would want you to help her.' I came over here thinking I was gonna help you—that I was gonna give you a gift, help with your medical bills like mom said." He paused and stared into my eyes. "God sent me over here for my benefit, Laney, and not the other way around. The gift was for me, and it was you." He smiled and squeezed me again. "So you can say it now or wait till you're ready, but I'm pretty sure—"

  "I love you," I said. "I love everything about you." I stared up at him. "I love your face, and hair, and teeth, and smell, and most of all I love your heart. I love your generous, patient, kind, beautiful heart. It's hard to believe that such a heart exists in the world."

  He smiled. "Guess what?"

  "What?" I asked.

  "It's yours."

  My knees literally gave out from underneath me. Thank goodness he had his arms around me because if he hadn't, I would have crumpled to the ground. My legs were suddenly made of goo, a situation that only worsened when he put his lips on mine. He kissed me tenderly, putting three soft, slow kisses right on my mouth. He pulled back after the third one, looked at me, smiled, and then went back for another as if he just couldn’t stop himself.

  Chapter 19

  It was now mid-September. It had been almost four months since I put that first dreaded pill into my mouth, and I'm sorry to say, my body was still wrecked from it. Don't get me wrong, things had gotten progressively better in general, but I still had frequent swings with symptoms, and as recently as last week had an episode so bad with chest pain that I almost made Zack bring me to the hospital again.

  Ingesting those antibiotics would forever change my life. It was miserable and terrifying, and I wouldn't wish the physical pain on my worst enemy, but God had a way of using even the worst of circumstances for my good. I was brought to a place so low that God was literally the only thing I had to hold onto, and I could see now that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I was closer to God than ever, and the beauty of that was well worth the pain it took to get me there.

  The shift that occurred inside of me was only one of the blessings that made their way out of this nightmare. Lexi was forced to be strong in my weakness, and as a result she was turning into a smart, independent young woman. I was very proud of her. A couple of weeks ago, she took on a second job working with her friend Maddie at a clothing store in the mall. She was still working 4 or 5 shifts a week at Miller's on top of that, so it seemed like she was gone all the time. I marveled at how much she'd grown up. As a result of my illness, I had no other choice but to leave her alone and let her make it on her own, and she'd proven herself over and over again.

  And then there was Zack. I'm not saying it was my sickness that brought us together, but I honestly don't know how I would have ended up with Zack if his mom hadn't come to see me that day.

  Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that I am witness to God making beauty out of ashes. I am witness to the truth of being refined by fire. I am witness to the scripture that God causes ALL things (even the ones that are super painful and suck really bad and you think they'll never, ever end) to work together for the good of those who love Him. I witnessed and am witnessing these things first hand. God is good, His plans are good, and that's all there is to it.

  So, I wasn't back to work yet, but I'd been back in the studio with Peter again for the last month, and if I'd learned one thing, it was that I didn't know anything about stained glass. He was a master of the craft, and the more I was around him, the more I appreciated the rare opportunity of being able to study with him.

  Most days I tried to go in in for at least a few hours, only skipping when I had an especially hard time with the lingering symptoms. He liked to tease me when I had to miss, saying he didn't know what to do without his slave labor.

  All jokes aside, Peter and I had developed a special relationship during the last month. He was an eccentric artsy type who had plenty of acquaintances but barely any close friends. We'd gotten to know and love each other during the last month, and I liked to think I'd now have the honor of fitting into that category.

  Up until now, I'd been watching and learning from Peter by being his right hand while he worked on his pieces, but today was the day we'd start my bakery piece. Peter didn't throw around compliments, but he did say my bakery piece "wasn't too bad," and "would probably turn out okay," which I took as high praise coming from him.

  We'd just started cutting glass when I noticed Peter getting a little shifty and uncomfortable. He made a few jokes that didn't make much sense, and began sweating for no reason. I had no idea what was making him so nervous, but I chose not to draw attention to it because I didn't want to embarrass him.

  "Remember that reflective glass I was telling you about?" he said randomly.

  "Yeah, the one that shines through the glasses?"

  He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I made a little piece with it to test it out."

  "Oh, cool," I said, "When'd you do that?"

  "Oh, just in my spare time whenever I had a spare minute or two. You know, to play around." He wiped the sweat off of his brow with his shirtsleeve.

  I smiled, trying to put him at ease. "How'd it come out?"

  "Good, good! I have it right over here. Do you want to see?"

  We both had our hands full of glass, but I agreed easily. I started to set down the glass I was holding.

  "Oh, no, I'll get it," he said. "It's just right here. Stay there and I'll show it to you."

  He had counter space lining all sides of his studio, and he went to an area that was full of works in progress. He pulled a small piece out from under a sheet and walked over with it.

  I could see from a distance that it had a lot going on. He used a monochromatic color scheme, so from a distance the whole thing looked yellow, but as he got closer, I could see how busy it was. It was made up of tons of small cuts of glass that all looked like letters. It was like staring into a big bowl of yellow alphabet soup. It was nothing like the pieces he normally designed, which could explain why he'd been
so nervous about showing it to me.

  He held it up for me to inspect. "That's cool," I said, smiling. "I like all the letters." I squinted, trying to see if any of the letters had a shimmer to them. "Did you say you used that reflective glass?"

  "Oh yes, yes, yes!" He balanced the window on his knee and reached into his pocket for a pair of glasses. I knew about the reflective glass. I knew I'd be able to see it in action once I put on the tinted glasses. So without question, I put them on. Again, Peter held up the window.

  "Oh yeah, I see it," I said. "Some of the letters are standing out!"

  It only took a few seconds for me to read those letters. The window clearly said, "Laney, will you marry me?"

  I read it a few times, making sure I wasn't tripping. It was definitely my name followed by the words, will you marry me. I took off the glasses and looked at Peter with a confused expression. I wouldn't put it past him to ask such a question as a joke, especially when I'd just cleaned his bathroom or something thankless like that, but this window must have taken countless hours and I couldn't imagine why he'd waste all that time.

  "Did you just make that so you can point at it every time I sweep your floors?" I asked giggling.

  A teeny tiny part of me feared he'd mistaken our friendship for something else. I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

  "It's not him asking," a voice said from behind me. I knew it was Zack speaking before I turned around, but it still took me a second to take in what was happening. I closed my eyes as I turned around to look at him, feeling like my heart was sitting in my stomach.

  Zack was standing there. He wasn't on his knee or anything; he was just standing there smiling. "You know how you sometimes call me in the middle of the night to make sure those other people I read about on the internet can't sleep, and have bad dreams, and feel like they're dying and stuff?"