by Tim LaHaye
“Did you—?” Bruce shook his head.
“I don’t think you know, Chloe,” Buck said. “Let me discuss it with Bruce tomorrow, and I’ll bring it up for prayer in our meeting tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, sure,” Chloe said. “But I have a question and a prayer request for tonight.”
Bruce looked at his watch. “OK, shoot.”
“I’m wondering what you think about dating relationships during this time.”
“You’re the second person who’s asked me that today,” Bruce said. “We must be lonely people.” Chloe snorted, then scowled at Buck.
She must assume it was Buck who asked Bruce that earlier, Rayford thought.
“Let me make that a topic for one of our sessions,” Bruce said.
“How about the next one?” Chloe pressed.
“All right. We can discuss it tomorrow night.”
“And can you add to it what the rules are for morality for new believers?” Chloe said.
“Excuse me?”
“Talk about how we’re supposed to live, now that we call ourselves followers of Christ. You know, like morals and sex and all of that.”
Buck winced. Chloe didn’t sound like herself. “All right,” Bruce said. “We can cover that. But I don’t think it’ll come as any great shock to you to know that the rules that applied before the Rapture still apply. I mean, this could be a short lesson. We’re called to purity, and I’m sure it won’t surprise you—”
“It might not be so obvious to all of us,” Chloe said.
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow night then,” Bruce said. “Anything else for right now?”
Before anyone said anything or even offered closing prayer requests, Chloe said, “Nope. See you tomorrow night then.” And she left.
The three men prayed, and the meeting ended awkwardly, none of them wanting to talk, as Nicolae Carpathia had put it, about the elephant in the room.
Buck arrived home frustrated. He was not used to being unable to fix something, and most maddening, he didn’t even know what was wrong. He changed out of his traveling clothes and into hiking boots, khakis, denim shirt, and leather jacket. He phoned the Steeles. Rayford answered but after a few minutes came back to the phone to say that Chloe was unavailable. Buck was only guessing, but it sounded as if Rayford was as frustrated with her as he was.
“Rayford, is she standing right there?”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you have any idea what her problem is?”
“Not totally.”
“I want to get to the bottom of it,” Buck said.
“I concur with that.”
“I mean tonight.”
“Affirmative. Absolutely. You can try her again tomorrow.”
“Rayford, are you telling me it’s all right for me to come there right now?”
“Yes, you’re right. I can’t promise she’ll be here, but try again tomorrow.”
“So if I came there right now, I would not be offending you.”
“Not at all. We’ll expect your call tomorrow then.”
“I’m on my way.”
“OK, Buck. Talk to you then.”
Rayford didn’t like deceiving Chloe. It was almost like lying. But he had enjoyed the coded banter with Buck. He remembered a little tiff he’d had when dating Irene years before. She was very upset with him over something and told him she didn’t want him to call her until he heard from her, and she stormed off.
He hadn’t known what to do, but his mother gave him some advice. “You go to her right now, find her, and put the ball in her court. She can walk away from you once, but if she sends you away when you’re coming after her, then you’ll know she’s serious. She may not know her own mind, but down deep, if I know women, I know she’d rather you pursue her than let her run.”
And so, in a way, he had encouraged Buck’s instinct to do the same with Chloe. He knew they weren’t an item yet, but he thought they both wanted it that way. He had no idea what this other woman in Buck’s life was all about, but he was sure that if Buck forced the issue, Chloe would confront him about her and find out. If Buck was living with someone, that was a problem for Rayford and Bruce as well as for Chloe. But Chloe’s evidence seemed thin at best.
“So he’s going to try to call me tomorrow?” Chloe said.
“That’s what I told him.”
“How did he react?”
“He was just clarifying.”
“You sounded pretty clear.”
“I tried to be.”
“I’m going to bed,” she said.
“Why don’t we talk awhile first?”
“I’m tired, Dad. And I’m talked out.” She moved toward the stairs.
Rayford stalled her. “So, will you take his call tomorrow, you think?”
“I doubt it. I want to see how he reacts to Bruce’s teaching tomorrow night.”
“How do you think he’ll react?”
“Dad! How would I know? All I know is what I saw this morning. Now let me go to bed.”
“I just want to hear you out on this, hon. Talk to me.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Well, would you stay up and talk to me if I talked about me and my job situation instead of you and Buck?”
“Don’t put me and Buck in the same sentence, Dad. And no, unless you’re getting fired or switching jobs or something, I’d really rather do it another time.”
Rayford knew he could snag her attention with what had happened to him that day, from the note from Hattie to the bogus harassment charge to the meeting with Earl Halliday. But he was more in a mood to talk about all that than she was. “Want to help me tidy up the kitchen?”
“Daddy, the kitchen is spotless. Anything you need done around here I’ll do tomorrow, all right?”
“Coffee timer set for the morning?”
“Programmed since the beginning of time, Dad. What’s with you?”
“I’m just feeling a little lonely. Not ready to turn in yet.”
“If you need me to stay up with you I will, Dad. But why don’t you just watch some TV and relax?”
Rayford couldn’t delay her any longer. “I’ll do that,” he said. “I’ll be right down here in the living room with the TV on, OK?”
She gave him a funny look and matched his tone. “And I’ll be right up in my room at the top of the stairs with my light off, OK?”
He nodded.
She shook her head. “Now that we have both reported in and we know where the other will be and what we’ll be doing, am I excused?”
“You’re excused.”
Rayford waited until Chloe started up the stairs to turn on the front porch light. Buck knew the address and the general area, as he had been there once before.
The news was ending and only talk shows coming on, but Rayford didn’t care. He was sitting there only as a diversion anyway. He glanced through the curtains, looking for Buck’s car. “Dad?” Chloe called down. “Could you turn that down a little? Or watch in your room?”
“I’ll turn it down,” he said, as headlights briefly flooded the living room and came up the drive. Before he adjusted the volume, he hurried to the door and intercepted Buck before he rang the bell. “I’m going upstairs to bed,” he whispered. “Give me a second and then ring the bell. I’ll be in the shower, and she’ll have to answer it.”
Rayford shut and deadbolted the door. He turned the television off and went upstairs.
As he passed Chloe’s room he heard, “Daddy, you didn’t have to turn it off. Just down.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower and get to bed.”
“’Night, Dad.”
“’Night, Chlo’.”
Rayford stood in the shower with the water off and the master bath door open. As soon as he heard the doorbell, he turned on the water. He heard Chloe call, “Dad! Someone’s at the door!”
“I’m in the shower!”
“Oh, Dad!”<
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This was a great idea! Buck thought, impressed that Rayford Steele trusted him enough to let him talk to his daughter when she obviously had something against him.
He waited a moment and rang the bell again. From inside he heard, “Just a minute, I’m coming!”
Chloe’s face appeared in the tiny window in the middle of the ornate door. She rolled her eyes. “Buck!” she called through the closed door. “Call me tomorrow, will you? I was already in bed!”
“I need to talk to you!” Buck said.
“Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight,” he said. “I’m not leaving till you talk to me.”
“You’re not?” she said.
“No, I’m not.”
Chloe called his bluff. The porch light went out, and he heard her trotting up the stairs. He couldn’t believe it. She was tougher than he thought. But he had said he wasn’t leaving, and so he could not. If nothing else, Buck was a man of his word. Stubborn was more like it. But that had made him the journalist he was.
He still hadn’t shaken the longing for Chloe that had come over him that afternoon in New York. He’d wait her out, he decided. He’d be on her stoop in the morning when she got up, if that’s what it took.
Buck moved to the step at the edge of the porch and sat with his back to the front door, leaning on one of the stately pillars. He knew she would be able to see him if she came back to check. She’d probably be listening for his car, and she wouldn’t hear a thing.
“Daddy!” Chloe called from Rayford’s bedroom door. “Are you about done?”
“Not really! What’s up?”
“Buck Williams is at the door, and he won’t leave!”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Get rid of him!”
“You get rid of him! He’s your problem!”
“You’re my dad! It’s your duty!”
“Did he harm you? Has he threatened you?”
“No! Now, Dad!”
“I don’t want him to leave, Chloe! If you do, you send him away.”
“I’m going to bed!” she said.
“So am I!”
Rayford turned off the shower and heard Chloe slam his bedroom door. Then hers. Would she really go to bed and leave Buck on the porch? Would Buck stay? Rayford tiptoed to his door and opened it far enough to be able to keep tabs on Chloe. Her door was still shut. Rayford slipped into bed and didn’t move, listening. It was all he could do to keep from chuckling aloud. He had been put on the short list of candidates to be the new pilot for the president of the United States, and here he was, eavesdropping on his own daughter. It was the most fun he’d had in weeks.
Buck hadn’t realized how chilly the night was until he had sat next to that cold pillar for a few minutes. His jacket squeaked when he moved, and he raised the fur-lined collar around his neck. The smell reminded him of the many places in the world he had dragged this old bomber jacket. More than once he had thought he’d die in the thing.
Buck stretched his legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles, suddenly realizing how tired he was. If he had to sleep on this porch, he would.
Then, in the stillness, he heard the faint creaking of the steps inside. Chloe was creeping down to see if he was still there. If it had been Rayford, the steps would have been louder and more sure. Rayford would probably have told him to give it up and go home, that they would try to deal with the problem later. Buck heard the floor near the door creak. Just for effect, he tilted his head toward the pillar and rearranged his posture as if settling in for a snooze.
The footsteps back up the stairs were not so muffled. What now?
Rayford had heard Chloe open her door and make her way down the stairs in the darkness. Now she was on her way back up. She whipped her door open and slapped at the light switch. Rayford leaned so he could see her emerge, which she did a moment later just before she turned out the light. Her hair was pinned atop her head, and she wore her floor-length terry cloth robe. She turned on the light at the top of the stairs and descended with a purpose. If Rayford had to guess, he didn’t think she was running the man off.
Buck saw his shadow on the lawn and knew a light was on behind him, but he didn’t want to appear either overconfident or too eager. He stayed right where he was, as if already asleep. The door was unlocked and opened, but he heard nothing else. He sneaked a peek. That, apparently, was her invitation to come in. I’ve come this far, Buck thought. That’s not good enough. He resumed his position, his back to the door.
Half a minute later he heard Chloe stomping to the door again. She swung open the storm door and said, “What do you want, an engraved invitation?”
“Wha—?” Buck said, pretending to be startled and turning around. “Is it morning already?”
“Very funny. Get in here. You’ve got ten minutes.”
He stood to go in, but Chloe let the storm door slap shut as she went to sit on one end of the couch in the living room. Buck let himself in. “That’s all right,” he said, “I’ll keep my coat.”
“This visit was your idea, not mine,” she said. “Forgive me if I don’t treat you as if you were invited.”
Chloe sat with her feet tucked under her, arms crossed, as if granting him an extremely reluctant audience. Buck draped his jacket across an easy chair and slid the footstool in front of Chloe. He sat there, staring at her, as if trying to think of where to begin.
“I’m hardly dressed for visitors,” she said.
“You look great no matter what you’re wearing.”
“Spare me,” she said. “What do you want?”
“Actually, I wanted to bring you flowers,” he said. “Seeing as how yours are in the trash.”
“Did you think I was kidding?” she said, pointing past him. He turned and looked. Sure enough, a huge bouquet of flowers was jammed in a wastebasket.
“I didn’t think you were kidding,” Buck said. “I just thought you were being figurative, and I hadn’t heard the expression.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you told me the flowers were in the trash, I thought it was some sort of phrase I’d never heard. It had the flavor of ‘the cat is out of the bag’ or ‘the water is under the bridge.’”
“I said the flowers were in the trash, and that’s what I meant. I mean what I say, Buck.”
Buck was at a loss. They seemed to be on different pages, and he wasn’t even sure it was the same script. “Um, could you tell me why the flowers are in the trash? Maybe that would help clarify things for me.”
“Because I didn’t want them.”
“Oh, silly me. Makes sense. And you didn’t want them because . . .” He stopped and shook his head, as if she should fill in the blank.
“They insult me because of where they came from.”
“And where did they come from?”
“OK, then because of who they came from.”
“And they came from whom?”
“Oh, Buck, really! I don’t have time for this and I’m not in the mood.”
Chloe moved to stand and suddenly Buck was angry. “Chloe, wait just a minute.” She sat back down and folded up again, looking perturbed. “You owe me an explanation.”
“No, you owe me an explanation.”
Buck sighed. “I’ll explain anything you want, Chloe, but no more games. It was clear we were attracted to each other, and I know I gave off some less-than-interested signals Friday night, but today I realized—”
“This morning,” she interrupted, obviously fighting tears, “I discovered why you seemed to have lost interest all of a sudden. You were feeling guilty about not telling me everything, and if you think those flowers fixed anything—”
“Chloe! Let’s talk about real problems! I had nothing to do with those flowers.”
For once, Chloe was silent.
CHAPTER 9
Chloe sat looking skeptically at Buck. “You didn’t?” she managed finally.
He shook his
head. “Apparently you have another admirer.”
“Yeah, right,” she said. “Another? As if that makes two?”
Buck spread his hands before him. “Chloe, there’s obviously been a lack of communication here.”
“Obviously.”
“Call me presumptuous, but I was under the impression that we sort of hit it off from the moment we met.” He paused and waited for a response.
She nodded. “Nothing serious,” she said. “But yes, I thought we liked each other.”
“And I was with you on the plane when you prayed with your dad,” he said.
She nodded slightly.
“That was a special time,” he continued.
“OK,” she agreed.
“Then I went through my ordeal and couldn’t wait to get back here to tell all of you about it.”
Chloe’s lip quivered. “That was the most incredible story I had ever heard, Buck, and I didn’t doubt you for a second. I knew you were going through a lot, but I thought we had connected.”
“I didn’t know what to call it,” Buck said, “but as I told you in my note that Sunday, I was attracted to you.”
“Not only to me, apparently.”
Buck was speechless. “Not only to you?” he repeated.
“Just go on with your speech.”
Speech? She thinks this is a speech? And she thinks there’s someone else? There hasn’t been anyone else in years! Buck was deflated and thought of giving up, but he decided she was worth it. Misguided, jumping to strange conclusions for some reason, but worth it.
“Between Sunday and Friday night I did a lot of thinking about us.”
“Here it comes,” she said, tearing up again. What did she think? That he was prepared to sleep on her porch just to dump her for someone else when she finally let him in?
“I realize that Friday night I was giving you mixed signals,” he said. “Well, maybe not so mixed. I was pulling away.”
“There wasn’t much to pull away from.”
“But we were getting there, weren’t we?” Buck said. “Didn’t you think we were going to progress?”
“Sure. Until Friday night.”
“I’m a little embarrassed to admit this—” he said hesitantly.
