2. Lovely Day
2
LOVELY DAY
BILL WITHERS
“Well, Virginia you were absolutely stunning up there,” Mrs. Edwina—Sadie’s mom—declared, bringing Ginny into a tight hug and kissing her on her forehead. She held her close. “I am so proud of you, sweet girl. And… your accompaniment wasn’t half bad either. That strawberry blonde hair mixed with his voice and a guitar… Whew! He’s a hero straight out of a romance novel. I had to fan my face a bit.”
“You should see him in glasses,” Ginny whispered, loving to fire up Mrs. Edwina when given the chance but not wanting to give Ryan the satisfaction of overhearing them. “Total, nerdy babe.”
The older woman shimmied and pulled away from her. “Young man,” she put her arm in the crook of Ryan’s, pulling him away from a conversation with Georgia, Caroline, and all the Lovett brothers, including Evan—who’d performed the wedding ceremony—and his extremely pregnant wife, Blaire.
“I just have to say, you have a God-given talent, son. Your voice was rich and resounding through this whole room.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Ryan said, a light blush, matching his hair, ran across his cheeks.
“And it certainly doesn’t hurt that you had this woman as your partner. I swear, I always love to hear my girl, Virginia Maple, sing. It doesn’t matter what it is. She could sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat and I’d listen and probably get teary-eyed, just the same.”
For what felt like the first time that night, and maybe in months, Ryan met Ginny’s eyes. “She’s very talented,” he said clinically, but his eyes darted to somewhere behind her.
A rush of Axe body spray clouded her vision, and a foreign, strong hand rested against Ginny’s elbow. She turned to find one of Dakota’s Air Force buddies, also in his dress blues and at the perfect height for Ginny to make eye contact with his puppy-dog brown eyes, not unlike her own.
“Hey. It’s Ginny, right?”
Ginny smiled brightly, finding herself completely disarmed by the handsome stranger’s kind eyes and adorable dimples. “Virginia,” she said, holding her hand out for him.
He shook her hand but kept it in his. “Remillard told me all about his younger sister, but he definitely didn’t mention how absolutely stunning you are.” He smiled and let his thumb drift over her hand. “I’m Holder. And, Virginia, I am dying to dance with you. If you’d allow me?”
Ginny couldn’t hold back her grin. “Oh, I think we could do that. I’d hate to have a medical emergency on our hands.”
“It’d be your fault completely,” he said and pulled her towards the dance floor, letting his hand rest on the small of her back.
“We can’t have that.” She let her hand rest on his shoulder as they began to sway. “Are you gonna tell me your first name, Holder?”
“How do you know that’s not my name?”
She raised her eyebrow, and he relented. “My name’s Liam. Liam Michael Holder.”
“It’s nice to meet you. And dance with you.” He twirled her once then pulled her close again.
“And, I’m assumin’ you’re another pilot hopeful… One of Kota’s friends?”
“You assume right. Me and Remillard met at OTS. I’ll have to give him a hard time about not puttin’ in a good word for me in advance. Didn’t he tell you about his newest friend?”
Ginny shrugged, having far too much fun with the stranger. “Even if he had, all y’all Air Force boys look alike… I couldn’t possibly keep track of you all.”
“Listen,” Liam lowered his voice, his breath brushed against her cheek. “I know this is forward, but I gotta know before I ask you for another dance…”
“Another dance? We haven’t finished this one yet, Liam Michael Holder. That’s awfully presumptuous of you.”
“I’m a pretty confident guy. Have to be in my line of work.”
Ginny stuck out her tongue. “Bleh. Unimpressed, but please do keep going. What do you need to know?”
He chuckled against her cheek, but continued. “Are you attached to anyone…? Like, maybe the guy you were singing with earlier?”
Nope, I’m just the groom’s cute baby sister.
“No,” she answered too quickly, annoyed that even as this deliciously handsome Air Force pilot showed interest in her, the tiniest mention of Ryan managed to supersede him in her brain. “I’m completely available. Totally and absolutely unattached. So, so, so single.”
Whoa, Virginia. Overeager much? Slow your roll.
“Good to know.” He took the hand he’d held before, chuckling low, and pulled her closer to his chest—the Air Force pilot confidence thing sure wasn’t an over-exaggeration. “Because that guy’s been staring laser beams at me since I took you out on the floor. So I’m not certain he’s aware of your so, so, so single status.”
“He’s just a family friend. Overprotective.”
You should see him eat a rhubarb pie shirtless is what she didn’t say.
The song came to an end, and Liam, the far too attractive, brother’s best friend romance Ginny wouldn’t mind dancing with all night, whispered in her ear, “Nah. I don’t think that’s it at all. He looks like a guy who knows he’s missing out. I intend to keep it that way.”
They danced and talked through a few more songs, where Ginny learned that Liam was originally from California and had lived in the same house his entire life until joining the military. He loved his family, running marathons—which Ginny found admirable, but unnatural—and drinking black coffee.
When he said he hated college football, Ginny thought, Hmmmm , immediate red flag , but gave him the benefit of the doubt. Liam spoke at length about how he thought the mountains couldn’t ever compare to the beach— like a total West Coast crazy person . And then, sweet, beautiful, completely-wrong-for-her Liam declared that romance novels, musicals, and rewatching The Office— all favorite past-times of Ginny’s—were frivolous ways to spend valuable time.
Ginny promptly ended their short-lived romance, quickly abandoning her sudden urge to run away with a pilot, start a new life and, apparently, give up watching Jim and Pam fall in love forevermore… He probably had on plain ol’ black dress socks. Not worth it.
After that particular disappointment, she made her way to her siblings, where they’d congregated around a table with a giant smorgasbord of Southern delicacies.
Dakota and Sadie were busy squabbling over how many pralines were too many before they cut into their cake, while Caroline and Georgia nibbled on pieces of fudge and pralines, respectively, as they watched the dance floor.
Ginny followed their gazes, where Griffin wiggled with Theo and held a still bald, one-year-old Simon in his arms, and Lake twirled his daughter, Davey, around as she giggled and squeezed his neck.
“Watcha doin’ girls?” Ginny asked, smiling at her sisters blatantly drooling over their husbands.
“Just snackin’,” Caroline said, not taking her eyes off of Griffin.
“Mmmhhmmm,” Ginny hummed.
“I’m pretty sure I just got pregnant… again,” Georgia deadpanned, gazing at Lake like he was the praline she wanted to take a bite out of.
“I’m almost positive that’s not how it works,” Sadie laughed, sliding into the conversation and shaking her head at Georgia’s antics.
Dakota slipped his hand around Sadie’s waist. “And I’m positive I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
Georgia paid them absolutely no mind.
“I don’t think that man has ever been sexier than he is right now.” She threw her hand out accusingly. “Like, how does someone walk around looking like that every dang day! I need to stop this. People need to know he’s mine.” She downed the rest of her treat in one bite and scurried onto the dance floor, claiming Lake in front of God and everybody, with her mouth, and then holding Davey in her arms so they could both dance with him.
“That escalated quickly,” Ryan said, coming around the corner of the table.
“Nah, just markin’ her territory. I totally get it.” Caroline brushed her hands off, ready for business. “I’m ‘bout to do the same thing. I’ll see y’all in a bit.”
“And I’m gonna dance with my wife. How ‘bout you show me your moves, Edwin,” Dakota said cheerily, pressing his lips to Sadie’s before dragging her, more than willingly, onto the dance floor.
Ginny perused the table, looking for a treat and doing her best to ignore Ryan’s presence at her side.
“So, you, um…” Ryan paused. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”
“Yup. So much fun.” She grabbed an oatmeal cookie that was sure to taste like heaven and shoved it in her mouth. Definitely not cute . “Nothin’ better than wedding dancin’.”
“And you know that guy?” Ryan flicked his head in the direction of Liam, who was doing the Cupid Shuffle with Mrs. Woodhouse, likely charming her into oblivion with his twin dimples. She’d probably never recover.
“Yup. Liam. He’s so nice. Great dancer. Very hot pilot.”
“Good. Good to know. Seemed like a bit of a jerk to me, but as long as he’s a hot pilot, I guess that’s all ya need.”
“Well, he’s not a jerk, actually. He has terrible taste in quite a few ground breaking things, but he actually asked me to dance, so… that’s all I needed, Ry,” Ginny snipped and grabbed another cookie, clearly deep in the stress-eating portion of the night. “And you throwin’ darts with your angry green goblins over there,” she pointed at his eyeballs, feeling the undeniable desire to poke him directly in each as her temperature rose, “doesn’t help anything, ya know? If you want to dance with me, ask me!”
“I… I didn’t say I wanted to dance with you,” he stumbled, suddenly finding the dance floor far more appealing than Ginny.
“Right. Sure. Of course you don’t.” She wanted to stomp on his foot. Instead, she threw back a praline and mumbled through the chewy goodness. “You just want to throw private temper tantrums and brood in the corner every time I come into the room.”
“I don’t brood.” He grabbed his own cookie and shoved it in his mouth as angrily as she had, entering into another food-eating contest Ginny would certainly not let him win. “And why do you keep introducing yourself as Virginia to everyone?” he asked accusingly, daring to look at her straight on.
“Because it is my name, Ryan!” A crumble of pecan caramel cookie sat in the crook of his lips. Ginny decided she wouldn’t tell him.
He harrumphed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not you, though. You’ve been Ginny since I’ve known you. I dunno why all of a sudden you’re tryin’ to be something you’re—”
Ginny interrupted him and was now actively envisioning herself stomping on both his feet, throwing a drink in his face, and loudly pointing out the crumb she did not want to kiss off his mouth .
“My name is Virginia, Ryan Hood. I am a grown woman, and I can introduce myself any way I please, thank you very much. If you have a problem with that or who I dance with or who I bring to town functions, then maybe you should man up and take me instead. Until that day, you don’t get a vote or a say.”
Before he could respond, Ginny grabbed another cookie, took a vengeful bite, and stomped away. She joined her family on the dance floor, and decided she wouldn’t give another second of her time or thoughts to Ryan.
Instead, she danced like a fool with her siblings, let her daddy sway her around for a slow song, and took joy in a few more friendly dances with the handsome Lieutenant Holder, paying little mind to the way she caught Ryan’s gaze throughout the night. And disregarded completely how much she wished he had asked her to dance.
The next morning, Ginny did what she always did when she was overwhelmed and annoyed and just a little bit flustered by life. She drove outside of town and arrived at For the Record as soon as the doors opened, walking down the aisles and running her fingers over album after album. She was due to help lead worship that morning at Living Hope Church and knew she wouldn’t have as long as she liked to meander around but perused a section on borrowed time, humming along to the music playing in the shop.
The Epic Duos section had obviously been mishandled. They were no longer in alphabetical order, as Ginny had arranged them earlier in the week, but were instead completely shuffled across the shelves, all willy-nilly. The Civil Wars, Simon and Garfunkel, and The Righteous Brothers had all been brought to the front of their rows and definitely not where she’d left them.
Maybe she was still feeling a little raw from the evening before. With her brother and best friend leaving for their honeymoon… Both sisters, happily married and going home with families of their own… And a certain clueless man, who’d been in her life for as long as she could remember but, in the past couple of years, couldn't bear to approach her with anything more than condescension…
On that Sunday morning, with cheery music playing overhead, her precious album friends out of order, and the annoyance of the night before, Ginny suddenly felt agitated and just a tad bit passive-aggressive.
She was gonna speak her mind. She’d stand up for injustice. Fight for law and order and for cardboard record covers that couldn’t fight for themselves. She was gonna write a sternly worded letter, dang it!
Ginny whipped out a notecard and pen, scribbling a note to the perpetrator behind the disorder.
To the monster(s) who obviously doesn’t appreciate the artistry or design of organization,
It may seem bonkers to some, and maybe even arbitrary, but these albums have been arranged in a careful alphabetical/sometimes color coordinated pattern. I’d thank you to make note of these details in the future. Please stop the madness and keep your sticky fingers to yourself.
Truly,
A concerned patron
P.S. I’m not sure what you were doing or if it was intentional, but The Civil Wars are arguably the greatest duo of all time, so we may be in agreement somewhere, but if not, reread all of the above.
She tucked the letter carefully in the front of one of the rows where the guilty party in question would hopefully see and take note. She left the shop feeling productive and vindicated, which helped her morning considerably.
When she showed up for a quick band rehearsal before service, Ryan stood on the stage. His guitar was strapped over his shoulder, just like the night before, but held steady by strong forearms on full display thanks to the rolled up sleeves of the button down he wore.
“Um, what are you doing up there?” Ginny asked, wonderstruck by seeing him so unexpectedly. “I mean, where’s James?”
James being the primary worship leader, who Ginny was expecting to meet that morning rather than Mr. I didn’t say I wanted to dance with you .
“Hello to you, too. My morning’s been just fine. Thanks for askin’.” Ryan strummed his guitar and seemed much bolder than the night before. Like a toddler, strengthened by the gripping of his security blanket—or guitar, in Ryan’s case. His reddish blonde hair fell just over his eyes, highlighting the cowlick there. “James called me early this morning. He, um… He’s sick and needed a fill in.”
“Oh,” Ginny responded, making her way to the stage. “What a bummer. I mean… for James, that is.”
“Yeah.” He strummed again, a mournful tune. “So you’re stuck with me, Gin. Sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ll make do. Worship isn’t about you and me. Not that there is a you and me. Obviously.”
She pointed between herself and the man now watching her, no hint of a smile or understanding on his face. Just grass-green eyes peering at her through round, silver-rimmed glasses. “I mean, of course there isn’t. That’d be ca-ra-zy.” She swirled her finger over her head demonstrating the absolute nonsense she’d even implied. Not that Ryan, who was happier living his life in complete denial about whatever it was between them, needed her hand illustrations to solidify his stance on the matter.
“I just meant, worship isn’t about us at all. It’s about Jesus,” she said resolutely, reminding herself of that truth. Ginny had seen Ryan lead before and had led at his side many times over the past few years but always found it necessary to double down on her focus where he was involved.
“Right. Completely agree.” He looked away from her abruptly, checking his mic. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”
“Absolutely. We’re pros.” She tapped her mic with her index finger, checking the sound and peered in her peripheral at him.
“Good deal. I…” He cleared his throat. “I always enjoy it when we lead together,” he admitted and strummed again, running his fingers across the strings. But, unfortunately, Ginny felt that vibration of strings rush across her arms where goosebumps rose.
“Me too,” she said quietly into the mic, though both their soft confessions echoed in the chamber of the empty room. “Socks?”
He answered back in his own mic, “Avocados,” and then switched chords, playing the first note of the set for the morning.
She hummed, meeting his voice in the space between. “I like avocados.”
“Me too,” was all he said before singing the first line of the song and drawing Ginny into it at his side.
She remembered the first time he’d led worship for Living Hope. Ginny was only eighteen at the time and had grown up watching Ryan play a silly sidekick to Georgia while not-so-secretly pining for Caroline. It hadn’t bothered her then.
Sure, he was adorable in his way, but Ryan was older than her and had been a constant fixture in her life. She’d never looked at him romantically, far too focused on her teenage life and the attention she’d gotten from boys her own age. But when Ryan stood on the stage that first morning, voice and countenance transforming before her eyes from goofy friend to grown man, unashamedly lifting praise to his Savior, Ginny was transfixed. And a long-term crush solidified.
She couldn’t be blamed, after all. Ryan was a loyal friend and kind to almost everyone—the blips with Danger and a certain Air Force pilot, not included. But she loved how he was always just a little disheveled in a glasses-wearing, hot coach sort of way. He loved Jesus and wore silly socks for the delight of children and was regularly seen with a guitar in his hands.
So, essentially, Ryan was irresistible.
Though nowadays she was much more practiced in managing the deep desire she had to run up on the stage and bruise Ryan’s mouth with hers. She wasn’t a teenager with a silly crush. She was, as she’d declared the night before during her verbal tantrum, a full-grown woman now. She wouldn’t be so easily led astray by the man now strumming a guitar and humming harmonies deep in his throat or by his raspy voice filling the room.
Even if she had memorized the sound and cadence of his words, I always enjoy it when we lead together , to replay over and over again at a later date. It’d most likely become her nightly lullaby. A new song of her own making, lulling her into a deep, Ryan-filled dreamland.
Ginny wouldn’t be distracted by that ginger-haired dreamboat with his still raspy voice and an untrimmed five o’clock shadow… Instead, she prayed for strength from distraction and sang along, focusing on the words and the reason for praise rather than the man at her side. Because she loved to lead, and she loved worshiping her Savior. When she stepped onto the stage, she often felt like she was truly stepping into a unique gift God had given her. One she never wanted to disregard or take for granted.
Their dry run of the morning setlist went as smoothly as their duet had the night before. However, when her sisters arrived early for service with their families, sitting in their normal row of chairs but offering her nearly identical sympathetic smiles as they saw who she stood on stage with, Ginny thought maybe her feelings for their long-time friend were more transparent than she’d believed. And she suspected she’d need another visit to the record store before the day was through.
“Heya, Gin,” Caroline greeted Ginny with a kiss on her cheek after service as a crowd mingled in the warm October breeze. “Hey, Ry. I didn’t know you were gonna be leadin’ worship today.”
“I didn’t either,” Ryan replied. “It was a great service, though.”
“Well, it was awesome, man.” Griffin shook Ryan’s hand, holding it firm. “Always good to hear you sing with our Ginny.”
Ginny sighed and shook her head. Adding Griffin and Lake to her life had been the equivalent of adding two more giant Dakotas. They’d loved her like a sister from the get go. “It was fun,” she said, letting Ryan off the hook and repeating his earlier words. “I always love when we lead together.”
Not that they’d been playing on repeat in her head all morning. That would be ca-ra-zy, too.
Ginny’s mama approached, her arm draped demurely through Chloe Garland’s, a classmate Ginny hadn’t seen since high school. The Colonel, Ginny’s retired Air Force daddy, followed close behind greeting friends with casual salutes and hand shakes in the wake of his wife up ahead.
“Y’all! I am so glad to see my babies this morning,” her mama declared, kissing Ginny, Caroline, Griffin, and looking around the crowd for Georgia and Lake.
“They’re grabbin’ the kids for us,” Griffin informed her.
“Well, I just wanted to introduce y’all to our newest team member at Good Start.” She gave Chloe a little jostle and showed her off like a prize-winning pony. “This is Chloe Garland, the new manager. Ginny, do you remember Chloe?”
Ginny smiled at Chloe, who she’d known as an acquaintance in high school but little more. She remembered Chloe as being much quieter than herself and usually hanging with the more artistic crowd back then. “Hey, Chloe. It’s great to see you.”
“Thanks, I’m really excited to be back and at Good Start.”
Ginny’s mama provided introductions to the rest of the small group, as only Joan Remillard, the queen of Southern hostesses could, and promptly invited them all to Sunday family supper at their family home.
Ryan stood behind, taking small, but noticeable steps back and, Ginny thought, making ready for his escape. “I actually have plans this afternoon, Mrs. Remillard. I’m sorry to miss out.”
Ginny’s mama wasn’t having it, though. She grabbed Ryan’s arm and pulled him in. A spider, luring in her prey. “Now Ryan Hood, we have not had you at a family function in far too long. Couldn’t you set aside your plans for a welcome dinner for this lovely woman?”
Ryan blushed. Ginny hated that flush in his cheeks as he took in Chloe. Her light brown hair hung over her shoulders in beachy waves, and she wore a modest, maroon and floral maxi-dress that made her look effortlessly beautiful, but unassuming.
“I’m, uh…” Ryan stuttered. “I’m sorry to miss out, but it’s nice to meet you, Chloe.” He extended his hand and shook Chloe’s, who definitely didn’t seem uninterested in the strawberry blonde Adonis in front of her.
Overdramatic? Ginny didn’t think so. She’d seen Ryan without a shirt just over two years before and the memory of his chiseled chest and well defined abs were forever ingrained in her temporal lobe. Right next to the memory of her puking into a trash can in the summer heat before said shirtless man ran away from her.
She rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling irritated, flustered, and itching for the smell of dusty records and Ms. Jan’s—the record store owner’s—reheated leftovers.
“Yeah, Ryan, what could you possibly have that’s more important than greeting Chloe here?” she asked, lifting her eyebrow and crossing her arms.
“Errands,” he said pointedly.
“Errands. Hmmm,” she hummed. “Sure. Very important. Very convincing.”
“It’s really okay,” poor Chloe responded, waving them both off. “I’m sure we can catch up another time.”
“I don’t know.” Ginny let her head bobble just slightly, like a snake in the grass. “Ryan is awfully good at avoidance these days, but no worries mama, I’ll meet y’all there. Chloe, I’m lookin’ forward to hanging out more.”
And with the memory of Ryan’s back turned on her in retreat, and all earlier feelings of affection stuffed deep down where she couldn’t see them anymore, Ginny kissed her mama and daddy on their cheeks and marched away, letting Ryan watch her leave him behind this time.