Chapter 6 #2
“He’s in the habit of requesting all of his favorite foods.” She shrugs and grabs the car keys hanging on the wall.
“Ready to go?”
I look at her new outfit and nod in approval. “Yup—and that outfit is super cute on you.”
She grins widely. “I know.”
An eye roll is the only necessary reply. I love that Gabby is a sister and a best friend wrapped up in one.
I finish giving Pimenta his strawberry snack. “Bye Pimenta.”
“Bye-bye Lizzie Bell. Bring more strawberries!” Squawk.
I laugh and shut the door behind me as I step out onto the front porch.
“I actually really like ‘Lizzie Bell’. It’s a fun name,” I tell Gabby as we walk down the stairs to the car.
Thankfully the weather is cooperating today.
It’s the tail end of winter here in Recife, which really just means the end of the rainy season.
It’s pleasantly warm—just the perfect amount—and not too humid, which is great for my hair.
My hair likes to take on a mind of its own when humidity comes out to play.
It’s like my hair and humidity enter into a dance together.
Maybe not even a dance—that sounds graceful, like the waltz.
Maybe I should describe it better as a wrestling match.
Humidity always wins and my hair puffs up with leftover pride.
We both get in the car.
“I love that my hair is tame today. I hope it stays that way.” I look in the car mirror, just to double-check my hair hasn’t betrayed me already.
She looks over as she turns the car on.
“You’re safe. But I have to say, it gives ‘lioness’ vibes when the humidity hits it.”
I laugh. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult.”
“Compliment—definitely a compliment.” She checks her lipstick in the mirror before starting the drive.
“Okay, now I want to know what happened with Julio.”
“Julio? The guy I dated? ”
“What other Julio is there?”
“I’ve barely thought about him, so I’m not sure why you are.” She shrugs.
“Are you sure about that?” I raise an eyebrow.
“We just went on a few dates, but we realized there wasn’t much there between us. And you know what Dad is like. I couldn’t even hold hands with him if Dad was within sight—he’d tell us off immediately.” She rolls her eyes.
I laugh at that. “You know he’s just overprotective.”
“There’s overprotective—-and then there’s Dad.”
“That’s true. I hope he won’t scare off actual potential husbands, though.”
“Can you imagine? I don’t want to be a spinster.” She shudders.
I laugh. “With a face like that, you won’t be. You’ve literally had a guy crash a car because he was staring at you too long.”
She blushes. She’s confident and sweet with a big heart, but she also sometimes gets shy, too. It’s endearing.
This is what I love most about hanging out with my sister. We can talk about anything and everything. We can go from girly conversations to deep ones in an instant.
We don’t live far from church, so the drive isn’t long. But I’m not sure any time with my sister is long enough. We always have so much fun together.
We pull up and park just outside the church.
The air is a little balmy, and it’s that perfect time of evening.
The sun has just set, and the sky looks like it’s been painted with God’s palette and brush in soft pastel colors.
I’ve always thought clouds at sunset looked like cotton candy.
That’s exactly what it looks like tonight.
It’s such a peaceful evening, and the buzz of the city feels like such a contradiction. But that’s one of the things I love about Recife. You can find the best of both worlds here—the buzz and the calm.
We stroll up the steps to church, and inside we’re met with a little bit of air conditioning. I’m glad I brought a light jacket so it doesn’t feel too cold inside.
Immediately, I hear echoes of laughter floating through the door as we walk in, the smell of coffee tinging my nose. Brazilians love coffee at any time of the day.
Gabby walks in, looking around to spot anyone she knows. I love that she loves people. It’s one of my favorite traits of hers.
Pastor John and Maria spot us and come over.
“Lizzie, Gabby!” They each take a turn in embracing us and saying hello. We spend a little time talking before the service starts.
We grab our seats about the third row from the front when John asks a man to come up and pray.
I notice things about him immediately in the three seconds it takes him to walk to the front.
He’s a little taller than me. He has dark hair and walks confidently.
He has a smile that could make a girl’s knees go weak.
“That’s him,” Gabby whispers into my ear.
“Nate?” I turn to her.
“Yeah,” she says with a cheeky grin.
And when he begins to speak, I give a small gasp.
A S?o Paulo accent.
“People come to God to look at His hands to see what He can give, not for who He is. We need to come to God not because of His gifts, but because of who He is,” he says just before he begins to pray for the evening.
But my mind can’t get past the fact that he has a S?o Paulo accent. I know, I know—I should be paying more attention. Other people probably wouldn’t blink twice at that. But to me, that’s a big deal. It’s not common to hear an accent from states away here in this city. It’s not normal.
And it’s my favorite accent in the whole world. And it’s on my list.
But I’m not going to lose it over his accent. I met a guy from S?o Paulo before. He just wasn’t “the one.” I’m not basing everything off an accent. Or looks.
I just have this feeling that making this list and giving it to God has turned it into a compass.
A compass pointing to who God has in store for me to spend the rest of my life with.
I trust God to know better than I do who I should spend the rest of my life with.
He’s in my tomorrow and sees it before I can.
And I believe He puts desires in my heart that act like a compass, guiding me toward what He has set out for me.
And when I find my “list guy,” I’ll know it’s right.
God’s not a magical genie here to grant all of my wishes. There’s no guy who’s perfect. I’ve learned not to buy into that delusion, no matter how many romantic notions my heart tries to sell me. But I still have desires for what I want the man I marry to be like.
So, let’s see. Nate ticks off a couple of things off the list immediately. So, what?
My imaginary sash flashes in my mind and I picture myself wearing a crown at a pageant with a sash that says, “I’m leaving Brazil in two weeks!”
And I’m excited about it too. There may be a bit of sadness that comes with leaving my family here—but mostly it’s excitement. So it’s time for my brain to shut down any romantic notions.
Why does my brain love to run away with romance whenever I give it the slightest inkling?
The service begins, and I tune back in, leaving romance at the back of my mind.
Once the service is over, we’re gathered around the back chatting with some friends when Pastor John comes over.
“Hey, Lizzie, will you be ready to go soon?” he asks.
Maria comes over and settles next to me.
“Yeah, I’m ready to go when you guys are!” I smile at them.
I spot Nate coming over, and he stands next to John. Pleasantries are exchanged, and it ends up being just Gabby, Maria, Nate, John, and me talking.
“So, which one of you is coming to dinner with us?” Nate asks.
I perk up when he tilts his head slightly, looking straight at me. My heart skips a beat without my permission. “Me,” I say.
He gives me a friendly smile, and I can tell just by the way he smiles that he’s charming. Charm is something not many people talk about as a character trait—yet it makes all the difference in the world. It captivates people. And he’s confident, too.
But again, I’m not going to jump to any conclusions. He has a S?o Paulo accent. He’s a little taller than me. He has dark hair. He’s charming.
So what?
“Great. I can give you a ride,” he says.
Alright, here we go.