#
Cal put the key in the ignition. He’d watched Aly’s heart break in her face. She wasn’t good at hiding things like he was. Yeah, if there was any doubt, Aly did love him like that. He’d spent years being careful with Aly’s emotions. And in two minutes, he’d pulverized her. He should drop Evie off, go back, and do damage control with Aly. But, honestly, it was better for Aly if he stayed away from her.
He turned some invisible corner when Raine ditched him. He was done trying to please anyone but himself.
Evie leaned over and fiddled with the radio trying to get a Daytona Beach station. He could tell her the only station he ever got was WSBB, New Smyrna Beach, but he was enjoying the view too much.
Sex was incredible. Granted, he hadn’t anticipated getting slammed with guilt, but he’d get over it. Deprogramming his parents’ tapes would take time. Meanwhile, he had a lot of catching up to do. He’d been an idiot to wait this long.
Evie sat back, her bare shoulders thumping her displeasure against the seatback. He grinned at her. “Scoot over here.”
As she nestled under his arm, her skin warming his chest, the tender part of his arm, Aly sat like a stone in his gut.
#
Drew jogged out of the dunes. He should get back to the gym where the kids watched a movie. Rain hit him full force, stinging his skin like it had been shot from a pressure sprayer. Someone in a windbreaker cinched around her face scanned the beach. Was it Rainey? They met at the equipment shed on the back side of the bathhouse. He yanked the padlock and swung the door open for her.
He sluiced the water from his face with the crook of his arm. Rainey peeled off her soggy windbreaker and tossed it over a badminton pole. Her hair was damp and mused, and she’d never looked more beautiful.
Rain beat on the roof like sticks on a snare drum. He arched his brows at her in the close air.
She pulled an envelope from the back pocket of her jeans and jabbed it into his chest. “Why are you getting mail from Africa?”
He thwacked the letter against his thigh, stalling. “What are you doing with my mail?”
“I saw it when I was helping Aly sort the mail.”
“Nosey.”
Rainey ignored him. “What is it?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t read it yet.”
“Drew!”
He ripped the end off the envelope and glanced at the top page. His contract, as he suspected. He passed it to her.
“You’ve got a job in Africa!” Her voice arced up at the end. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her words were laced with hurt.
“I told you I was praying about a career change.”
She sank down onto the furled volleyball net. “Isn’t this rich. You’re going to Africa. I’m staying here.”
“My thought exactly.” He could hear the flatness in his own voice.
“I can’t believe you kept this a secret from me all summer.” She waved her arms at him. “I thought we were friends. Good friends. And you had this mega secret….” She raked her fingers through her damp hair, and it fell back across her forehead.
“I’m sorry.” He sat down beside her, his arm brushing hers. He snagged a page that had fallen to the dirt floor. He glanced at it—the cover letter. The pages must have gotten inserted out of order. His glance caught on an unexpected word.
He backed up and read the letter slowly. He looked at Rainey. She stared at the light coming through the cracks between the boards. Her face was void of hope. He slowly folded the pages together and slid them back into the envelope.
The envelope shook in his hand. He held a tangible message from God. Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them away. He took a deep breath and turned toward Rainey.
Chapter 27
Aly walked quickly away from Cal and Evie, her canvas flats squishing with every step. Cal had ripped her heart down the middle. Oh, it wasn’t anything she didn’t deserve. Just the shock of the unexpected. Hadn’t she done what he was doing—a dozen times—all while Cal was in love with her? But she hadn’t known he loved her till it was too late.
She urged her feet faster, wanting to get around the corner and out of Cal’s sight. As if he’d come running after her. Tears streamed down her face.
God, I am so sorry—for everything. Like Raine says, I want Your dreams for my life—if I haven’t already totally screwed them up. She glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed Cal’s car driving away.
The sun broke through the clouds. Inside, WALL-E’s spindly plant of hope pushed through the rubble of her pain. Somehow, in a way she didn’t understand yet, she was going to be okay.
#
Raine looked over at Drew’s smooth cheeks, the rain-plastered angel-hair, his eyes the color of faded denim—that were devouring the papers in his hands. She hadn’t considered Drew being jerked a world away. Drew’s going to Africa felt almost as bad as his marrying Sam. Finally he folded the sheets and slid them back into the envelope.
He took a deep breath and turned toward her. “We need to talk.” His voice was firm.
She glanced at a family of balls huddled in the corner and braced herself for whatever was coming. The downpour softened on the roof. She breathed in the scent of rain and old tires and studied his face.
He searched her eyes until she shifted uncomfortably on the roll of netting where they sat. “Remember the day you told me you were praying about who you were supposed to marry?”
Her stomach clenched and her heart beat as fast and light as the rain on the roof. “The day you didn’t tell me about Africa.”
“What I did tell you was I wanted to be on your list.”
“You were joking.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
He certainly wasn’t joking now. She’d never seen him more serious. Something warm in her stomach moved into her ribcage. She stared at the blond hair curling around her bracelet on his wrist.”You said you wanted a girl with strong arms and cute toes.”
His hand closed around hers. “I want you.”
Her eyes flew to his. There it was, that look she’d seen in his eyes so often lately. Now it had a name. Yearning. “What about Sam?”
“When Sam figured out I had feelings for you, she cut me loose.”
“Why did you e-mail her in the first place?”
“You were into Cal, and it seemed like a good time to settle my issues with Sam.” He held up his hand and blew out his breath. “I know you and Cal have had something cooking all summer—just put me on the list, okay?”
“There’s no list.”
Hope and wonder lit his face. “No Cal?”
“What makes you think I’d want another druggie in my life?”
Drew’s brows knit together. “But you still have feelings for him—I’m only asking for you to give me a shot—”
“What if God wants you to marry Sam?”
His eyes danced. He held up the envelope. “Got my answer.”
She stared at him dumbly trying to understand it all. “What are you saying, Drew?”
Drew stood and pulled her up. He was so close she could smell the scent of shampoo from his damp hair. His hands settled on her arms.
Her mind reeled, the only thing registering was the warmth of Drew’s touch.
“Rainey, I love you.”
Rainey had never sounded less annoying. “You love me?”
One side of Drew’s mouth scrunched into a lopsided smile. “I think it was your feet I fell in love with first. All I know is I love your heart for God. I love working beside you. I love seeing you walk up the beach every morning—”
She stepped into his chest and his arms closed around her. The rain slapped against the tin roof, and she listened to the beat of his heart—racing, like he’d sprinted down the beach. She felt safe, safer than she’d ever felt in her life.
She looked up and took his face in her hands. “You know that kiss, the one you apologized for?”
“Yes.” His voice was definite, his eyes smiling.
“I want more of those—”
Drew closed the inches between them, cutting off her words with his lips—soft like she remembered, tasting of rainwater and heaven. His cheeks felt smooth against her palms. His arms tightened, pulling her against his chest and the kiss deepened. Her body stretched and woke up as though it had been asleep for a long time—kindling a promise.
Drew ended the kiss and stepped slightly away, wonder washing his face. Her fingers slipped from his hair. He looked as dazed as she felt. She grabbed onto his arms, afraid she’d topple.
Drew shook his head, grinning. “Yeah. You can pretty much count on plenty of those.” Drew always seemed half saint. But the look he gave her was all man. He snagged her windbreaker with one hand and her wrist with the other. “Sometimes you need to take Rainey out in the rain.”
The rain had slowed to drizzle, and the gray sky seemed bright after the shed.
She caught his hand. “I love you, Drew. Ever since that first kiss.”
Drew laughed. “The one I wasted half the summer regretting?” The mirth seeped out of his eyes—brilliant blue in the gray light—and they filled with joy and hunger and something like adoration that made her heart trip a beat.
His eyes bore into hers with purpose, as though he’d made a decision. “We need to talk.”
Tiny currents ran through her body. “About?”
“Not now. Tonight after campfire.”
“Drew!”
He turned toward camp, their clasped hands pulling her along. “The conversation needs to happen at Old Fort Park.”
A wisp of memory floated and twirled in her mind. The only time they’d been to Old Fort Park was after she’d fought with Dad, telling him she should just marry the first guy who agreed to take her to Africa. Drew made her walk off her anger before they discussed what?
Marriage.
Euphoria bubbled up into laughter.
Drew looked at her. “What’s so funny?”
“If you’re going to ask me a question, the answer is yes.”
Drew stopped mid-step and grinned at her. “Maybe I wanted to talk about eternal security, speaking in tongues, and transubstantiation.”
“Yes, yes, and possibly, then.”
“Since you’re in such an agreeable mood…” He tugged her to the shelly sand beside the road and pulled the envelope from his pocket. He passed her one of the pages.
She skimmed the letter. Africa Cries had been forwarded her resumé by another mission organization. They suggested Drew interview her and decide if the agency should hire her to tutor and travel with the children’s choir. Drew’s decision would be final as he was the person who would have to work closely with the tutor. Salary details were given.
Drew dropped to one knee. “You said at the Old Fort that if I loved you, we’d go to Africa. Marry me, Rainey. Let’s go to Africa.”
“Yes. Oh, yes!”
Drew rose and kissed the air from her lungs.
Her laughter returned, and they broke apart.
Drew shot her a silly, wounded look. “What? You’re laughing at my technique?” They headed toward camp.
“Not your technique. Your enthusiasm.” She could feel the smile stretch taut across her face.
“Guess you better get used to that.”
His callused hand felt clumsy in hers, foreign and familiar. She wanted to spend a lifetime getting to know his skin. She would have missed Drew if she’d shut God out of her feelings for Cal. Thank You, God, for giving me someone so much better than I could have chosen. And for giving me my dream.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my husband, Jim, who once sold the family minivan to send me to a writers’ conference, works two jobs so I can write full-time, reads me, edits me, believes in me, and loves me.
I’m grateful to my daughter Annie whose dream of loving orphans in Peru inspired Raine’s passion. And my son Luke, like Drew, when he sings makes me feel like only God and I are in the room.
Thanks to Jackie Jessup, my proofreader and cheerleader who took days off work to traipse around New Smyrna Beach quizzing people for info with her temporarily-struck-shy writer friend. And for keeping me sober at high school keg parties and out of all the trouble I would have wandered into.
A heart-felt thank you goes to the hundreds of people who made me a summer camp expert: the folks at Our Lady of The Hills Camp in Hendersonville, North Carolina, the “happy” in my childhood; Camp Bethany in Loudenville, Ohio; Camp Shipshewana in Shipshewana, Indiana; and ABC Camp in Patagonia, Arizona.
God receives my deepest appreciation for creating me with a purpose—to write—and for causing my heart to sing when I write.
Thank you for reading Kicking Eternity, walking into my imaginary world and my heart.
Ann Lee Miller earned a BA in creative writing from Ashland (OH) University and writes full-time in Phoenix, but left her heart in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, where she grew up. She loves speaking to young adults and guest lectures on writing at several Arizona colleges. When she isn’t writing or muddling through some crisis—real or imagined—you’ll find her hiking in the Superstition Mountains with her husband or meddling in her kids’ lives.
Other titles from Ann Lee Miller
The Art of My Life
Release Date: September 1, 2012
Cal walked out of jail and into a second chance at winning Aly with his grandma’s beater sailboat and a reclaimed dream of sailing charters.
Aly has the business smarts, strings to a startup loan, and heart he never should have broken. He’s got squat. Unless you count enough original art to stock a monster rummage sale and an affection for weed.
But he’d only ever loved Aly. That had to count for something. Aly needed a guy who owned yard tools, tires worth rotating, and a voter’s registration card. He’d be that guy or die trying.
For anyone who’s ever struggled to measure up. And failed.
Avra’s God
Release Date: December 1, 2012
In the tradition of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, four friends navigate college and the drama churned up by their Florida beach band to cement friendship and more.
Avra wants love, but drummer Cisco—self-medicating from his parents’ divorce with sex and intoxicants—is a poor choice. Cisco hungers for fresh-baked cookies and the scent of family he finds at Avra’s.
Kallie shares her classically trained singing voice only with lead vocalist Jesse and fights to keep her heart safe. Jesse feeds on fame and hides more than insecurity beneath his guitar.
The friends surf ego, betrayal, and ambition and head for wipeout. But somehow, when they’re not looking, Avra’s God changes them all.
Tattered Innocence
Release Date: March 1, 2013
On the verge of bagging the two things he wants most—a sailing charter business and marrying old money—Jake Murray’s fiancée/sole crew member dumps him. Salvation comes in the form of dyslexic, basketball toting Rachel Martin, the only one to apply for the first mate position he slapped on craigslist.
Rachel, on a dead run from an affair with a married man, snags the job on Jake’s boat before she can change her mind. Her salvation is shoving ocean between her and temptation and, just maybe, between her and an oil slick of self-disgust.
The many-layered story weaves together disparate strands into a seamless cord. Mother and daughter look eerily alike—down to their lusts. Their symbiotic bond, forged in the blood of childbirth on the kitchen floor and cemented by their secrets, must be cracked open. A son must go home. Sin must be expunged.
Tattered Innocence is for anyone who’s ever woken up sealed in a fifty-gallon drum of their guilt.
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