Chapter 15
Brandon
“Hey, is this seat taken?”
Adam’s hushed voice filters into my ears, and it takes all of my willpower not to turn around and watch him take the open seat next to Evie.
My jaw clenches tight as I attempt to focus on timing the slides right for Pastor Mark’s sermon, but it’s proving impossible—especially when Adam and Evie laugh quietly amongst themselves, acting like the best friends I know they once were.
“You look like you’re about to try and lure some poor fool into your white van,” he whispers.
Evie snorts, and it rankles me, considering I just made a similar joke and almost had my head bitten off for it.
“Seriously,” Adam laughs. “Why the sunglasses? I know you didn’t just get Lasik. Lasers freak you out.”
She laughs. “Just keeping a low profile.”
“From who? The feds? You’re sweating.”
“It’s hot in here,” she croaks, her wool coat rustling as she shifts around.
“Here’s a thought,” Adam whispers. “You could try taking the coat off.”
I laugh under my breath, and the noise is followed by a deafening silence. I can practically feel Evie shooting daggers at my back with those dark, unforgiving eyes of hers. “I can’t,” she says finally, and my curiosity is piqued.
What’s going on beneath that coat of hers?
My lips peel into an unwitting smirk as I consider the possibilities.
If I know Evie, she’s sporting something interesting—or maybe even inappropriate—under that black peacoat.
Maybe a band T-shirt with some inappropriate symbols, like a pentagram?
A too-short skirt? All I know is that I’m not going to be able to sleep at night until I find out.
“Well, hey, coat or no coat—I’m glad to see you back at church, Evie,” Adam continues. “I was hoping and praying you’d come back one day.”
Guilt hits the bullseye of my heart with the accuracy of a blazing arrow, setting my whole chest aflame with shame and regret.
Here’s Adam, a kind, devout young man, telling Evie he’s happy to see her back under God’s roof after all these years.
And then there’s me, a man twelve years her senior, wondering what’s going on beneath her coat right now.
Not to mention I’m the one who led her astray, tempted her to sin, and ruined her life by convincing her to walk away from this man on their wedding day.
God, what is wrong with me?
Evie’s quiet for a moment. “Thanks.” Her voice is clipped. “But I remember these services being a lot chillier when I was a kid. I used to have to bring a sweater.”
“It’s a good thing you have your coat, then. Just in case the temp drops.”
She lets out a reluctant laugh. “A very good thing.”
I realize a moment too late that I’ve missed a cue.
I scramble to figure out which slide Pastor Mark needs.
Several people turn around in their seats, their amused, curious gazes silently asking what the hold up is.
Mortified, I duck my head as I catch up to the correct slide and wave an apology to the congregation.
Pastor Mark laughs it off, joking that he’d heard we were running low on coffee this morning.
When the service is over, Evie shoots off like a bat out of hell. But at least she was here. I’m curious about what prompted her to come back. The last time we spoke about Jesus, she said she’d never step foot in a church ever again.
Adam gives me an uncomfortable smile when I turn around. “How awkward was that?”
For who, exactly? Me or him?
“Not awkward at all,” I assure him. I grab his shoulder and give it a gentle, encouraging shake as we head down the steps.
Adam has no idea that I’m to blame for his runaway bride.
Neither does he or anyone else, for that matter.
I babysat Adam all the time growing up, and I love him like he’s my own flesh and blood.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he knew the truth.
Because for some odd reason, Adam looks up to me.
I admire him, too. His unwavering commitment to his faith has always inspired me. In fact, he accepted Jesus when he was just a child. Both he and Evie were only ten when they were baptized. I remember it like it was yesterday—the way they both screamed and laughed coming out of the water.
It makes me wish I had come to the faith sooner, too. Maybe I wouldn’t have made half the mistakes I did . . .
Adam embodies what a man of Christ should be. Should act like.
I’m a dirty wretch by comparison.
Adam turns to me at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you think she’ll ever come around?”
“To the faith?” I hope so. Pray for it every day.
“Well, yeah,” he says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he tosses his coffee cup into a trash can. “But . . . you know, to me. To us.”
My heart falls. “Is that what you want?”
“More than anything.”
And just like that, I’m sick to my stomach. I have no idea what to say. No wishes of good will or brotherly encouragement would sound sincere coming from me. Not when I feel the way that I do about Evie.
So I remain silent.
Adam laughs suddenly. “Kind of stupid, right? Evie is so . . .” He looks around the loud, busy room. “Not what my parents had in mind for me.”
My mood sours when I recall the grief his mom, Yolanda, gave Evie after their break up, including that letter she wrote that said Evie was headed for hell.
She’s a complete hypocrite, though. Before they broke up, Yolanda made it clear to Evie that she wouldn’t have picked her out of a lineup of the worst possible choices for Adam—her only beloved son.
It just so happened that Adam and Evie’s parents were close, having gone into the home care business together, and so the stars seemed to align for these two childhood friends.
Everyone and their mothers—barring Yolanda, of course—had been rooting for them to get together since they were in diapers.
“She’s not even a believer,” Adam continues, looking forlorn.
“We don’t know that. She was here today, wasn’t she?
” Evie says she doesn’t believe in God, but I’m skeptical.
I’m choosing to anchor my hope in God’s Word; my fervent, consistent prayer for her is that He will carry on the good work He started in her to completion.
I pray that her baptism as a child was genuine, and that He will bring her back to the faith in His perfect timing.
“Yeah, but probably not by choice.” Then he sighs, his eyes full of misplaced trust as he looks up to me. “Tell me I should forget about her.”
I give him a mild look, and he laughs like he knew that was a shot in the dark. I could never tell another man to forget about Evie. I know how unforgettable she truly is.
Besides, the words would taste like treason on my tongue.
Everyone knows Adam and Evie belong together. It’s just a matter of time. When Evie has her prodigal-son moment, she’ll come back to Adam. That’s how miracles work; the bad guy might get the girl’s virtue, but the good guy always prevails.
Adam is the good guy.
Adam looks around the room once more, pursing his lips as he searches in vain for Evie. She’s long gone by now. “I don’t know why I can’t shake her, Brandon. It’s been years, but I can’t get her out of my head.”
You and me both.
***
Teddy is zonked when I retrieve him from the nursery. He clings to me like a noodle stuck to the inside of a bowl as Mom and I head back to the car together.
“So what happened during the service?” she asks as we step out into the damp December air.
“What do you mean?”
“What got you so distracted that you were several slides behind the entire service?” She arches her brow. “I hope you weren’t on your phone. I raised you better than that.”
I roll my eyes. Once a mother, always a mother. “When have you ever seen me on my phone in church?”
She waves me off. “I’m just surprised you weren’t hooked the whole time, that’s all. Pastor Mark knocked it out of the park today. What could have been more interesting than his sermon?”
Just a five-foot-five brunette with eyes darker than a nebulous night sky.
Mom’s gaze pans across the parking lot as we approach the car. She smiles suddenly, nodding for me to take a look at something as she opens the back door for me.
I follow her line of vision. Halfway across the parking lot, gnawing on her thumbnail, is Evie. A cloud of condensation rises around her as she paces back and forth.
I shift Teddy into his car seat, lowering my voice as I buckle him up. “She was at the service this morning.”
“I saw. Maggie has been bugging her to come back for years.”
Nodding, I continue gazing at Evie as I make my way around the car, yearning to speak with her. To discover what’s causing her such obvious distress right now.
Mom notices my preoccupation. “What’s that look about?”
“What look?”
“That look.” She frowns at me from across the hood of the car. “I might be your mother, but I am a woman, and I know that look. Those baby blues were always the most expressive thing about you.” When I don’t respond, she nods at Evie. “You’re still looking for a wife, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but laugh. She says that like I’m browsing the grocery store for the perfect nutritionally balanced frozen dinner. But I’m not “looking for a wife.” I’m searching for my God-given partner, a woman who will love Teddy as much as she loves me.
There’s a difference.
“It’s about time you settled down,” Mom rambles on. “And Evie still about melts into a puddle every time you look at her. You should ask her out!”
Could that be true? Does Evie still melt when I look at her .
. . despite everything? I recall the way she looked at me in my office the other day, the yearning look on her face when I explained why I wanted her to be my assistant.
Come to think of it, that’s the way she used to look at me before I would kiss her.
Maybe it’s true.
“Not to mention she’s great with Teddy,” she reminds me, as if I had forgotten. Next to my mother, Evie is one of the few people I trust with my son.
“Well?” she prompts.