Then, why did the knowledge Drew was still in love with Sam weigh five hundred pounds. Maybe she was sad for him, that he’d lived so many years loving a woman who didn’t love him in return.
Drew should marry. What a waste it would be for Drew to stay single—a waste of good looks, of a guy who was obviously able to love a woman passionately, one who would be a great dad.
Lord, would You do something about this?
The camp van screeched around the end of the hedge and slammed into park.
Cal jumped out. “Raine! You’re the person I wanted to see.”
The stretch of his faded Ron Jon T-shirt across the contour of muscle on his chest and arms almost made her miss something different about him—the dab of awe in his expression. She searched his eyes till the rhythm of her heart beat in her ears.
“What?” He looked at her quizzically.
“Something’s different about you.”
He smiled a little. “Maybe that’s because God’s been talking to me.”
Joy burbled up like water from the porcelain drinking fountain on the backstop fence. “How?”
“I was sitting on my board in the waves and, like you said, I felt God’s caress in the sunset—I really felt it. The sun sat in the branches of the pines like someone had tossed it there. For maybe thirty seconds, the ocean turned to orangeade. I sketched it out last night, and I’m getting it down in paint today.”
Tears pooled in her eyes.
“While you were telling the lost sheep story, verses kept pouring into my head I hadn’t remembered in years.” He grabbed her hand. “God told me He loves me the way I am!”
Wonder was almost a scent between them.
Cal started to say something. He stopped. “You’re crying.”
The wetness that had collected in her lower lids spilled over. “Happy tears.”
He pushed her hair back behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful.” He wiped her tears away with the pads of his fingers.
Her insides quivered like violin strings under a frenzied bow. Part of her mind took in a woodpecker hammering a tree trunk, the sparkle of the sun on the dew coating the scraggly grass beside the Canteen steps. Maybe God didn’t take her crush away because He meant for them to be together.
Cal moved closer. His gaze drifted to her lips.
God?
Wait. The answer came to Raine before the question had fully formed.
The violin strings stilled. She squeezed Cal’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Raine—”
What could she say? Cal, God said—
Jillian sprinted around the corner of the Canteen as though God sent her. “Uncle Cal! Swing me! Swing me!”
Thanks, but I wanted the kiss.
#
Aly looked through the dining hall screen at Gar. His white blond hair was parted on the side, buzzed close around the ears. When she touched it, it slipped through her fingers like silken threads. Now, his head was bent toward Carina, the assistant camp dietician. He smiled at something she said. He rubbed the baby-fine fuzz on his chin like he did when he was nervous.
He was her boyfriend. What was he doing twittering around Carina? Intelligent people made Gar nervous, at least people he perceived as more intelligent than he was. She’d caught him rubbing his chin whenever their conversations veered into topics he didn’t quite grasp.
Gar was wearing those clear-glass glasses again—the ones he said made him look smarter. Well, they sure weren’t helping him see Aly needed his help. She readjusted her crutches.
Carina was working on her masters and an M.R.S. degree—neither of which would please Gar. Go ahead and flirt with her, Gar. It would serve him right if he fell in love with Carina and got dumped on his head.
Cal jogged up the steps onto the porch behind her. “Hey, Al.” He followed her gaze through the screen.
Carina said something, and Gar threw his head back and laughed.
“Chump,” was all Cal said.
A second ticked by, and Aly thought how much comfort packed into that one word.
“How’s the foot?”
“A little better.” She pushed her long bangs out of her face. “Thanks for sleeping on my floor after the hospital. My mom laughed. She said it was only a sprain.”
“Your mom spends too much time in intensive care.”
“You were sweet. And I kept your note with the mini-me on it.”
Cal grinned. “It looks like you kept every doodle I ever gave you.”
Aly remembered too late how her room was papered in Cal’s cast off drawings. “They’ll be worth something when you’re famous. Jesse says I have a good head for business.”
Cal jutted his chin in Gar’s direction. “Too smart for him.”
“Seems to me, if you’re not asking me out, you can’t diss the guy who is.” What was the use of dropping hints on Cal when he was in love with Raine?
He held his hands up. “Point taken.” They moved toward the door and Cal held it for her. “Go get a seat and I’ll get your food.”
She scanned the crowded dining hall. The only empty seats were at Gar’s table or at Kallie, Jesse, and Jillian’s. Just her luck. She hobbled over and sat down next to Jillian, avoiding eye contact with Kallie.
“Hi, Auntie Aly! Did you know Mommy has my little brother in her tummy and he’s going to come out soon and play with me?”
Cal set her food down and scraped a chair around for her to rest her injured foot on.
“You’re pampering me.”
He glanced in Gar’s direction across the dining hall and bent close to her ear. “Looks like you could use some pampering today.” He ruffled Jillian’s curls and walked away to get his own food.
“Mommy and Daddy said it might be a sister, but Uncle Cal says it’s a brother” Jillian jabbered.
Kallie shot her a look over Jillian’s head like she wanted to make up. “Does it hurt?”
“It feels like I should sign up for Dancing With the Stars.” Duh.
“Really?” Jillian piped up. “You can dance with me, Auntie Aly.”
“Not today, sugar.”
Kallie tried again. “Was Mom her usual ‘short on sympathy’ self?”
Aly almost bit, but at the last moment she shrugged one shoulder. See how it feels, Kal. She watched Cal sit down next to Gar. Maybe God had a sense of humor after all.
Kallie sent Jillian with Jesse. “I’ll wait for Aly to finish eating. We’ll come over to the office in a couple of minutes.”
Oh, great. She could feel the bite of tuna salad sandwich expand in her throat. So much for lunch.
Once the table emptied, Kallie leaned across the table toward her. “I’m sorry I said that about you and Gar. I didn’t mean it the way you took it. Will you forgive me?”
“Stay out of my life.”
Kallie crumpled in front of her and rushed out the swinging doors before Aly could see her cry. A heartbeat later, she heard a muffled sob.
Aly raked her fingers through her hair. She was a mean-spirited pig treating her pregnant sister like that. Ever think about taking the high road?
Cal walked up and took her tray. “What was that all about?”
Aly clamped her lips shut.
“Fine.” He walked away.
Cal thought she was dog meat, too. Make it unanimous.
#
Raine watched Jesse douse the fire. She didn’t want to move. She’d been sitting shoulder to shoulder with Cal the whole campfire. A quarter moon winked at them overhead. She couldn’t sit here all night. She stirred.
“Don’t go yet.” Cal touched her arm.
Jesse tossed another bucket of seawater onto the embers. “Night Cal, Raine.” He started toward the seawall. “Don’t stay up too late, kids. I don’t want my teachers grumpy tomorrow.”
“Right, bro.”
Cal looked at her. “When do older sibs stop telling you what to do?”
“Never!” Her thoughts turned to Eddie lik
e they had been at odd moments all day. She’d put money on it that Eddie had tangled in some kind of trouble. Help Eddie. Please. Night settled over them. The rhythmic slap and churn of the waves was hypnotic. Heavy air mumbled through her hair.
Cal turned toward her and she watched the play of the moonlight on his cheeks. He leaned toward her, caught in a still frame while her thoughts raced. She could almost taste the softness of his lips in the shafts of excitement zinging back and forth between them. His five-o’clock shadow was mahogany against his sun-whitened mustache. He was a man, not the eighteen-year-old Jud she’d kissed years ago. Kisses she wished back, ones she’d thrown away on a guy who made her choose between him and Africa.
Please, God, one kiss.
But it was her own voice that screamed in her ears. And a mosh pit of other voices—not God’s—yelling their agreement. Kiss him!
She knew in her soul what she had to do. She drew in a deep breath and shifted slightly away.
“You’re not going to let me kiss you, are you?” Cal’s voice was quiet.
She gave a slight shake of her head with the last of her resolve.
He leaned back, his arms propping him up from behind. “There’s something about the look in your eyes… I’ve seen it more than once. I’d almost guess you want to kiss me.”
She bit down on the truth, locking it inside. “Pretty cocky, aren’t you?”
He shrugged, one side of his mouth turning up. “Why won’t you kiss me?”
She let the air out of her lungs. “God said, ‘Wait.’“ At least, that’s what He said this morning, the last time she’d been thinking clearly enough to hear His voice.
“As in wait till you’re married? I had you pegged as one of those girls.”
“No,” she said too quickly. “As in ‘wait for now.’“
“So, maybe later God will say, ‘Go ahead and kiss the guy.’“
“Anything is possible.”
Cal shook his head and sat up. “I am so not having any conversations with God about kissing.” He stood and pulled her up. “Whenever I see you, I feel a lot like what Hobbes told Calvin—something about your heart falling into your stomach, making you sweat, which shorts out your brain.”
She chuckled. Yeah, that was pretty much how she felt around Cal. “What was Hobbes talking about?”
Cal pierced her with his gaze. “Love.”
Chapter 16
Drew rocked his chair back on two legs under the yellow circle of light on the Canteen porch. He settled his laptop on his knees and booted up. Night watch wasn’t so bad, especially when he could see the whole camp from here.
Voices punctuated by laughter floated through the screens of the teen cabins. Aly and Gar sat on the stubby bleachers beside the softball field.
He drummed his thumbs on the edge of the keyboard while he waited for his MSN account to load.
An e-mail from Africa Cries Mission Agency. His breath sucked in. His hand trembled as he opened the letter. He scrolled down the page. “Have been praying for a choir director and teacher… Would like very much to see your résumé and a one-page summary of your spiritual journey at your earliest convenience…”
Raine was going to Africa. It ran through his head like a mantra. He rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. All he could see was the portrait of Raine in the yellow flowered blouse Cal had painted. He was in no state to Vulcan mind-meld with God. Obviously, he’d watched one too many episodes of Star Trek. If prayer were only that easy.
What had Jesse said to him last time they talked about Africa? Take the next step. If he applied for the job, he could still back out when he was thinking more clearly. He pulled up his résumé.
#
Raine’s lips formed a circle, but no sound came out. Cal had flung her into the swirl of a waterspout. He loved her. Loved her. She was dizzy, spinning, the colors bleeding into each other. A moment’s clarity—the smell of soggy, charred wood from the doused campfire, the grit of sand under her fingernails—then swirling again.
Cal reached for her hand, and she gripped his, something solid to hold onto.
“I want to go on record. I’m serious about you.” He smiled, and her heart constricted. He took both her hands loosely in his. She thought how square they were, how foreign. How little she knew him.
“Raine. I love you.” There were the words—not couched in a Calvin and Hobbes quote this time. He waited for her response.
“I…I don’t know what to say.” She’d been infatuated with Cal all summer. But love? Where were the breaks on this twister?
She saw the disappointment in his eyes before he cloaked it. He caught her hand firmly in his and they turned to hike through the soft sand to the seawall. He pulled her onto the seawall, and she had the feeling they’d crossed an invisible line she hadn’t considered.
She glanced over at him, shy, all of a sudden. He was the same guy who’d been stamped to the insides of her eyelids when she fell asleep every night this summer. His hand was sturdy like he was—five-ten, solid without being stocky. His hair was pulled into a ponytail the way he almost always wore it. But he was a stranger.
“What?”
She looked away. “Nothing.”
“Reconsidering the kiss?” Cal grinned at her.
His grin chased away her awkwardness. “Looking at the menu.”
He pulled her closer to his side. “Come meet my parents on Saturday. You already know Jesse and Missy. Mom will faint for joy. You’re exactly what she’s been praying for.”
Her mind reeled. Meet his parents? She was caught up in the current of the spout. They passed the New Smyrna Beach Surf and Sailing Camp sign.
She wanted to break away from Cal. For the first time all summer she didn’t know what she felt about him. One thing she knew—she wasn’t ready to announce to the camp grapevine that she and Cal were a couple. But Cal held on tight to her hand as though he sensed her reluctance.
Drew’s face was lit by the glow of his laptop where he sat on the Canteen porch. Above him, insects darted around in the yellow light cast by a single bulb. Every once in a while he swatted over his head at them. He hadn’t looked up yet, and they were almost past him.
Please, Lord, don’t let him look up. She didn’t know why it was so important, but she didn’t want Drew to see her holding hands with Cal. But it was a silly prayer. Drew was on night watch. It was his job to look. And he had a clear shot of her and Cal all the way to her cabin.
Florescent light from the pole behind the backstop fell over Gar and Aly on her crutches.
“Hey, Al. Gar.” Cal sure wasn’t making any effort to keep this on the down-low.
Aly’s breath caught and her eyes darted to Cal’s. She glared at Raine like she’d committed a felony.
“Hey.” Gar looked between them and smirked. It wasn’t a good look for him.
Raine glanced away, embarrassed. She’d told Aly she wouldn’t go out with Cal. And here she was holding hands with him. She didn’t blame Aly for being ticked.
Cal kept walking. “Later,” he tossed over his shoulder.
In front of her cabin, Cal stopped and faced her, his fingers still laced with hers.
They stood in the shadows outside the sphere of the cabin’s porch light.
“It might seem like this is a spur of the moment thing.” His voice was low and soft so that it wouldn’t carry to the nearby screens where the younger girls still whispered. “But I told Aly I loved you the night of the rainstorm when I was painting you.”
“You told Aly before you told me?” Regardless of how Raine felt, that was plain wrong.
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“I don’t know if I was ready to hear it tonight.” That was the truest thing Raine had said all evening.
His voice dropped even lower. “Raine, I love you. I can’t help it, I just do.” Before she could say anything, he kissed her hairline beside her temple. He held his hand up. “I know it’s a shock. Think about it
. We’ll talk about it later.” He let her fingers slip from his hand.
Cool air doused her sweaty palm, but the place he kissed felt like a brand. She jogged silently up the steps and slipped through the door. What if Drew saw the kiss? And Aly had to have seen.
She’d been crushing on Cal all summer, and now he’d put her on speed dial. Why hadn’t she ever thought about the possibility of Cal falling for her? While she hadn’t been successful in killing the crush, she certainly had blacked out any future for them. She hugged her knees to her chest in the dark. The sound of a camper mumbling in her sleep floated through the cracked open door.
It was almost as if Cal wanted to stake his claim to her. There was a desperation about him that flirted around the edges of her consciousness. Did Cal want Drew and Aly and the whole camp to think she belonged to him?
Did she want to belong to Cal?
#
Drew looked up from his résumé and scanned the camp from the Canteen porch. Aly sat on the aluminum bleachers flinging her arms around, firing words he couldn’t hear at Gar.
A cricket symphony screamed in the skunk-scented night around him. Something moved in the shadows on the road up by the camp sign. He stared at the two figures walking into camp holding hands.
The floodlights from the camp sign caught their faces. Rainey and Cal.
Oh, God. The impact knifed between his ribs. Cal is so wrong for her. This can’t be Your idea.
His gaze dropped blankly to the computer screen. He could hear their footfalls as they walked on the dirt road past the Canteen. A moth buzzed his head. He swatted it away without looking up. The irony washed over him. He was applying for a job—partly, at least—because of a girl who was at the same moment parading past with another guy.
Drew’s eyes followed them up the road to Rainey’s cabin. He couldn’t stop himself. In the shadows, their heads came together and separated. Then Rainey disappeared into her cabin. Cal walked off toward the boys’ cabins.
Kicking Eternity Page 14
