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TJ
His hand ached when he dropped the pen. He had filled two lined sheets, and without bothering to double-check for errors, he folded them neatly down the middle and stuffed them into a bright red envelope along with a Valentine’s Day card. Then he dashed into his room and reached for the three-piece suit hanging behind his door where Lucy had stowed it a few days earlier after getting it dry-cleaned for him.
An embarrassingly high-pitched yelp escaped from his mouth when he saw the time. He was cutting it close. But nothing mattered more than dropping this special package off at a certain door on the opposite side of town.
Driving faster than he normally did, he took the familiar turns and jammed his foot on the brake pedal around the corner from Melody’s house. He didn’t want to be spotted. This gift had to be pressure-free.
Sometimes Melody took Saturday afternoons off from Artisan’s Hope when they were in between productions and enjoyed a whole day of freedom. If today was such a day, he had to be stealthy.
With a groan, he hefted the large box to his shoulder and stole across the side of her yard, thankful the snow had almost melted. Even though he heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner coming from inside, he ducked low as he passed her living room window, crept to the front step, set the box down, hit the doorbell, and blitzed away, dodging puddles as he ran in his best black dress shoes. He was panting by the time he slammed behind his wheel again and took off with the fastest mirror check in history.
Mission accomplished. It was in Melody’s hands now. If she rejected this attempt, he was out of ideas. He would lose her. Their friendship wouldn’t survive this. He didn’t know how to be only friends with her now. He’d had a taste of more, and he couldn’t go back.
He loved her too much.
“I’m trusting you, Lord. I put my heart in your hands. Come what may.”
When he parked at the church, the lot was nearly full, and his watch said he had one minute to get inside. He bounded through the front doors and found three bridesmaids lined up, the bride at the back.
“Little late, TJ?” His cousin Karly, decked from neck to ankle in sparkly lace, clucked her displeasure. “And where is your plus one? I was quite specific.”
He leaned to drop a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t have one. And since I’m okay with that, I expect others to accept it, as well.”
“I beg your pardon. Someone’s learned to speak up for himself at last.”
He grinned and swept by the others, giving Lucy a poke on the back as he passed.
“Brat!” she whispered. He let out a chuckle as he slipped into the back of the church, scanning the rows for his family. They were all here. Victor, his oldest brother, and his family filled up a pew, his niece and nephews already wiggling worse than worms after a spring rain. They had driven up from Lansing this morning. His parents sat beside Joy, who’d come late last night. Ben was there with Charity and Azalea, passed out on his shoulder. Myriad cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents filled the seats around them.
It was beautiful. It was family. TJ was so blessed. But there was one more addition to this family he wanted to make. Only God could make that happen. It was a good thing he specialized in the impossible.
Chapter Sixteen
On Saturday, Melody didn’t show up for her usual brunch with friends. She didn’t text to say why not or respond to the flood of incoming messages inquiring if she was okay.
She wasn’t.
In the afternoon, she went to Artisan’s Hope after lunch to get out of the house and away from her mom, not because she had anything pressing to do there. That morning, when she had sat to play the instrument she’d saved long and hard to purchase for herself, her mom complained about the noise of the piano.
“You call that music? I don’t need help getting a headache.”
Head hanging, Melody had slunk to the couch and turned on the TV. But then her mom mocked her viewing choice, callingThe Chef Showobnoxious. Then she criticized the meatballs Melody made for lunch.
Melody couldn’t do anything right. She should be used to it by now. But in the years away from her mom, she’d begun to build confidence in small steps. All that had backtracked in two days. Melody would have to start over. Or give up.
When she got back from Artisan’s Hope mid-afternoon, her mom was gone. Hope rose within Melody that she had packed her bags and gone, too frustrated with Melody’s failures to stick around. But that hope landed in a heap on the floor when she saw her mom’s suitcases on the carpet at the foot of her bed, open and ransacked as usual.
Was TJ correct? Did she have the right to ask her mom to leave? But—but—but she was her mom! How could she do that?
Melody pulled the vacuum out of the closet and began cleaning. Anything to occupy her time and keep her thoughts from returning to TJ.
Dear TJ. He didn’t know what he was talking about, but he really was the sweetest soul on earth. She closed her eyes, the vacuum running in place as she remembered his hand skimming along her cheeks last night. Oh, the heavenly butterflies it had stirred then.
The delicious, delightful butterflies it stirred now.
Her eyes flew open, and she pushed the vacuum with a vengeance. No.
Must. Not. Think. Of. TJ.
