Jeremy focused on the crowd that packed the auditorium. He barely registered the large and pressing body count before he felt a persistent tug on the bottom edge of his suit coat.
“Hi, Mr. Edwards.”
He had made his way about mid-way through the theater, searching for Monica, and nearly passed Jessica Carter without a second glance. Dressed in a costume of vibrant pink dotted by sequins, wearing stage-level rouge and lipstick, she was nearly unrecognizable.
“Jessica! Hi!” He grinned, because with her hair slicked back into a glimmering bun, with her peaches-and-cream skin heightened by makeup, she looked just like a porcelain doll. “Wow, look at you. I like your costume.”
“Thank you ve’y much.” Proudly she brushed at the layers of tulle that formed her tutu. Jessica turned to her mom who sat nearby. “Mommy, this is Mr. Edwards. He’s Miss Monica’s friend.”
They shook hands and Caroline gave him a warm smile. “I remember seeing you briefly at the Community Center. It’s nice to meet you officially.” Jessica’s mother gestured toward a subdued man, dressed in a business suit, who sat next to her. “This is Jessica’s father, David.”
Jeremy received a tentative nod, and a wavering smile from the man. “I’m glad to meet you.”
“Likewise. Enjoy the show.”
Space in the auditorium was literally standing room only for the recital, which made it hard for Jeremy to spot Monica in the sea of shifting faces. “She’s up front by the stage with the other teachers,” Caroline said, seeming to read his mind.
“Thanks.” Before leaving though, he cast Caroline a warm glance, and received a friendly nod in return. He squatted, then, to be at eye level with Jessica. Affectionately, he tweaked her chin. “Good luck tonight. I can’t wait to see you dance.”
She beamed. “OK. Bye!”
When he straightened, he spotted Monica. It never failed to astound him that just looking at her gave him a thrill.
Three rows from the front of the stage, she shared a discussion with parents who sat in aisle seats. She leaned an ear toward them, and laughed. Even from a distance, her smile captivated him. In keeping with this dressed-up event, she wore a knit dress of pale pink that rippled around her legs.
Jeremy moved forward but waited until she was finished talking before gaining her attention. When she turned away from the parents, she caught sight of him immediately. Her smile, intimate and loving, dawned instantly. It made his pulse race.
“Hey!” She stepped into his offered hug. “So what do you think of this chaos?”
“It’s…chaos. Seems fun, though.” He touched her flush-warmed cheek. “And you’re in your glory.”
“Well, this glory-girl is on her way to the maintenance office. I’ve got to see if there are any chairs we can use to set up additional seating in the back.”
Jeremy scanned the tight press of bodies. “Is it always this crowded?”
“I’ve been doing this for five years, and it gets bigger every time.” She gave him a rueful look. “Who knows what we’ll do next year. We’ve basically outgrown this space.”
He followed her to a set of doors that opened to a school hallway. Dance students gathered there as well as in the auditorium. Excited talk and laughter filled the air, and several girls greeted Monica with happy exclamations.
At the maintenance office door, Monica knocked. A uniformed janitor answered and listened while Monica explained the seating shortage.
“I’ve got some folding chairs back here. Got some folks who can help carry?”
Jeremy quickly volunteered, and Monica took a few chairs herself, recruiting several fathers of her students along the way. In the theater, the chairs went up, and Monica gave Jeremy a grateful smile. “Thanks for the muscle. Meet me right here when the recital is finished. This is where the parents pick up their kids. Once they clear out, I’m free.”
He kissed her cheek and smiled. “See you then. Good luck, Jellybean.”
She walked away, but Jeremy had begun to understand her nuances so well that he swore he felt a glow coming from her, a vibration of promise.
“The excitement of performance night,” he murmured to himself. “That’s what it is.”
****
From a standing position at the rear corner of the facility, Jeremy watched the fruits of Monica’s efforts. He paid particular attention to Jessica’s class, his gaze straying periodically to the third row, left-of-center position where David and Caroline sat and watched their daughter, united even if no longer married.
Pleasing as that distraction was, Jeremy also kept his eye on Monica. Though nearly hidden by the edge of the curtains, tucked into the wings of the stage, she prompted the dancers along until the song ended, to thunderous applause.
She remained backstage along with the other teachers, barely visible as she watched the progress of the recital. When the event concluded, instructors were called on stage, one by one, and awarded a large bouquet of red roses.
Jeremy’s applause rose with that of the crowd, and his heart swelled with pride as she stood in the spotlight for a moment and performed a perfect curtsey.
Afterward, since the hallway became packed with people, Jeremy waited at a side door of the auditorium until he noticed Monica looking for him.
He joined her with a smile. “Pandemonium.”
“Yeah. I could meet you outside.”
“OK. Want me to take you home?”
People moved past, pressing and pushing as they connected with family members, and recital participants. Monica had one student at her side, tugging on her hand, waiting to offer up a gift bag.
Monica shook her head. “I drove. Tell you what—I have an idea.” She bent to whisper a few words to her student, most likely a request for her to stand by for a few seconds. Monica then disengaged from the hubbub around her and stepped up to Jeremy’s side. “Give me half an hour?” People moved all around her.
“Yeah.”
“Then meet me?” A student stepped up, but Monica’s focus stayed put on Jeremy.
“Where?” He felt a heated tingle slide up his arms, through his chest. Foreshadowing of something—something monumental.
She looked him straight in the eyes, and the smile she gave him knocked his senses into a delicious, free-spinning orbit. “At Woodland.”
****
Jeremy arrived first. He knew the church and its sanctuary would still be open. Wednesday night adult fellowship had ended a short time ago, and Ken generally left the church open for an hour or so afterward. What surprised him was that Monica knew they’d be able to meet here as well.
This really was a blessed place. Woodland was a perfect blend of the old and the new. At first glance, it looked like an old-fashioned country church with aged, red brick, stained-glass windows and white shutters. But behind its soaring, red-brick bell tower and double-door entrance stretched a large, modern sanctuary along with a series of buildings for meetings, staff offices, and the activity center where fellowship took place after each week’s service.
Lush, rolling land was framed in by old trees, an ice-laden pond, and a walkway that led to Parishioners Bridge. The wooden structure acted as a memorial to Woodland’s members, past and present, with hundreds of names inscribed upon its surface. Just beyond the busy hub of Jefferson Avenue crested the shoreline of Lake Saint Clair, empty and soundless for the winter.
Jeremy loved Woodland deeply. The spirit of this church carried into his spirit like a pulse; it had been that way ever since his youth. The fact that Monica felt a growing connectedness to his faith home lightened him all the more. As he wandered toward the entrance, he noticed Monica’s car as she pulled into the parking lot and brought the vehicle to a stop right next to his truck.
He didn’t wait. Rather, he entered the sanctuary, claiming a pew not far from the front lip of the altar. So many of the important milestones in his life could be catalogued right here in this spot. Family celebrations of baptisms, service group meetings, weddings, deaths. Jeremy’s breath caught when an image of Lance came vividly to life—a deep blue uniform, crisply starched and ironed, bedecked by pins and ribbons; a regulation crew cut; a tight, solid build with wide shoulders and features capped off by a mischievous smile and sparkling eyes.
He dipped his head, closed his eyes and offered it all up to Christ in a grateful prayer.
Lance had been slain by a bullet long ago, yet all these years later, Jeremy still ached at the senseless loss. Although he heard Monica’s footfalls along the main aisle, he kept his eyes closed, continuing to pray over Lance’s departure, and the hole it left within him. Ironic, he decided, that “The Chief,” Collin’s little boy who was in part named for Lance, had led him to the woman of his dreams.
****
Monica stood next to the pew where Jeremy sat. She kept a respectful distance, quietly waiting until his eyes came open and he returned to the moment. He turned his head and silently offered his hand.
She promptly accepted the gesture. “You’re a million miles away.”
“Not anymore.”
Monica responded to his saucy reply with a wink. She took him in like the air around her, all spiced by evergreen and bayberry. The energy radiating through her couldn’t be denied, or contained. As though it were a talisman, she fingered the large, flat packet she held. She knew full well how deeply its contents could impact them, recognized the world of joyful possibilities its contents could unlock—not just for her, but for the man she loved. Where should she even begin?
“Hi there, by the way,” she said at length.
“Back at you. Come here.” Using a gentle pull, he drew her onto the pew. “What do you have there? He nodded toward the envelope but Monica placed on the seat beside her. Upside down. For now, protecting its mystery suited her just fine.
She moved close and held Jeremy tight, kissing his cheek slowly. She ignored his question. “Thank you for tonight. For being there for me. I loved seeing you in the audience.”
Jeremy nodded, but he kept keying in on the envelope, obviously seeking enlightenment. Monica settled her hand atop the package in an unspoken request that it stay as is for the time being. She leaned back against the pew with a peaceful sigh. “I really do love it here.” She studied the empty, echoing space of the church interior. “I should thank you for that as well. For drawing me into a relationship with God, and helping me tune into His truths, and a wonderful church.”
“Actually, that’s what I was thinking about when you walked up.”
Monica tilted her head, her focus centered on Jeremy alone. Her stomach jumped. Tingling sparks ignited her nerves. “Woodland is a place where I can easily make my faith a bigger part of the relationship you and I build together.”
Jeremy wound his arm around her shoulders. In his eyes, she saw questions begin to spin and push, but she also noticed the way he set everything aside for the time being. Instead, he kept quiet. Monica, therefore, could unfold as she wished, with no pressure. So, for a time, they simply rested in the serenity of the church. A Christmas tree, toward the right of the altar, was lit by hundreds of tiny, multi-colored lights. A white star graced its topmost branches. The mix of colors from the tree played against the glossy surface of the pew and sparkled in Jeremy’s dark eyes. Natural evergreen swags and a pair of matching wreaths dotted the walls; once again she detected the subtle spice of them as she breathed deep—and prepared to open herself in complete love and trust.
“I want to give you an early Christmas present,” Monica finally said. She handed him the package, and waited.
Jeremy opened it eagerly, still not seeing the front. From inside he withdrew a thick brochure from Bethany Christian Services along with some printed pages from their website and a few sheets of paper from a notepad which were full of Monica’s notes.
His breath caught. He looked at her and she ran her tongue against her lips, watching him right back in a hesitant sense of uncertainty. It was their moment of truth. All that the future might hold, all of her most heartfelt dreams, were about to be confronted. For an instant, doubts tried to ensnare her. Was she being too presumptuous? Had she pushed forward too far? Would he be happy?
“So what you’re saying is—” Jeremy didn’t complete the sentence. He cleared his throat roughly and blinked hard. When he closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, Monica’s every fear, every emotional blockade, and every doubt, evaporated.
“What I’m saying is this: I contacted Bethany Christian Services. I sent them an e-mail, but after work yesterday, I couldn’t wait for the information. I made a phone call and asked if I could pick up an information packet in person.” Her pulse went wild. Hope set the beat and love flooded her entire universe.
“Before you and I take another step forward,” she continued, “before we decide on a future together, and what it can hold, I want you to know something very important.” Monica turned to him fully, taking hold of his hands. “I love you.” Raw emotion lent texture to the words. “I love you, JB, and I refuse—I absolutely refuse—to let anything stand in the way of your happiness. Not even me.”
“But I am happy. Monica, I love you.”
He released one of her hands so he could cup her face, and frame it gently. She reveled in the warm, work-roughened stroke of his fingertips. She could scarcely believe the miracle that was unfolding. Droplets of tears built on her lashes and fell. They struck the back of Jeremy’s hand when he rested it lightly upon her knee. The moisture glittered like diamonds, like snow beneath a full moon.
“You show me every single day, and in every way imaginable, that you love me.” Monica choked back the lump in her throat. “You, and Woodland, have helped me realize how precious I am. You’ve shown me God’s love in so many ways.” Her chin quivered, and she lifted a shoulder. “I guess that’s been part of my problem all along, until now. Until you. I didn’t quite believe God cared about me.”
Jeremy moved in haste to interrupt, but Monica held him off by raising a hand. “Oh, I believed in Him, definitely, and truly, but He scared me. I looked at Him as a judge and perfect overseer who weighed right and wrong, catalogued every good deed and every bad. God intimidated me. He walked in unapproachable light, and I was content to cower, and never try to experience His grace in a personal way.”
Jeremy remained speechless, and expectant. “After all, really, who am I?” Monica said. “I figured, billions of people on this planet have billions of more problems than I do – and are in much greater need of God’s attention than the circumstances of my life. I worshiped Him at a distance. I kept Him remote. I just didn’t feel worthy.”
The admission caused her skin to burn with heightened emotion. She heard Jeremy’s breathing go sharp. “No, Monica. Never. Please know that.”
Tenderly she touched his face. “Then in you came. You. You were the answer to all those questions I had for God. You’ve shown me so much, just in the warm, loving way you live your life. I’m not afraid anymore, of being unworthy, or of loving you, or giving you the life I know we both want. God wrote a message on my heart, Jeremy. He wrote peace, and joy and love on my heart, and every letter of that note is carried in your name. You give me so much. Gratitude doesn’t begin to scratch the surface. I’m in awe.”
More words, more emotions, tumbled through her soul, but all of them tasted woefully inadequate. So, rather than embellish, she locked eyes with him. The love she found there, the love she hoped he saw in return, was all that was necessary anyhow.
Besides, she’d never get a single word past the lump in her throat.
Monica tilted her head, still connected to him by the touch of her fingertips against his face. “I prayed so long and so hard for the things I wanted,” she whispered once she composed herself, “most especially for children. You said it yourself, though. I boxed with God until my perspectives became skewed and I almost lost everything that will bring me real happiness. I didn’t realize until now—until you—that my prayers had already been answered. That God had already seen into my heart and provided me with everything I dreamed of—and more.”
“He did the same thing for me, Monica, the minute I walked into Sunny Horizons and saw you for the first time. Know that…and believe it…because you’ve changed me forever.”
“I do. Now, I do. But before I could let myself consider this”—she nodded at the packet of information Jeremy had placed next to him—“I had to move past everything I held onto about motherhood and open myself up to other options than having a child naturally. And I needed to realize that there’s importance and value to what I do every day at work and at the community center.”
Silence filled the air once again. They held hands. Monica rested her head against his shoulder and breathed out in a soft, wavering way. They lingered in Woodland’s sanctuary. Jeremy held her close, and they talked. They chatted and planned and dreamed. Much later, they were interrupted by the sound of quiet footfalls, then Ken Lucerne’s familiar chuckle. “Hey, guys.”
Never looking away from Jeremy, Monica blushed and smiled. “Hey, Pastor Ken.”
“Time to close it down. Sorry.” Wearing a playful grin, he moved to the altar and unplugged the tree lights, dimming the interior lights as well until the church was bathed in nothing more than a milky, pale glow.
“No problem,” Jeremy replied, holding hands with Monica as they stood and prepared to leave.
Monica pulled away. When Ken passed by, she caught hold of his arm and pecked his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
While Jeremy watched them in open puzzlement, Ken looked into Monica’s eyes and gave her a knowing smile. “My pleasure. Kiara’s waiting, though, so I better hit the road.” He glanced at Jeremy, then back at Monica. “Y’know, it’s like I always say: there’s nothing that affirms my faith more than watching God unfold a plan.”
They followed Ken outside. After he slid into his car and drove off, Jeremy stood next to Monica, who made ready to step into her vehicle. “What just happened back there? And how did you know Woodland would be open tonight?”
Monica blinked prettily. “Just a hunch is all.” She lifted to her tiptoes and placed a delicate kiss on his chin.
“A hunch and perhaps the authorization of a certain romance-loving pastor who shall remain nameless.”
Monica unlocked her car and opened the door. “Oh, feel free to name him. After all, Ken deserves the recognition.”
Jeremy gave her a hug before leaving, then launched into a heated, heady kiss that left Monica hungry on so many levels. “He does indeed, Jellybean.”