10

 

Will stared at the young woman across the table from him. The restaurant’s dim lighting seemed to enhance her glistening eyes and echo the sequins on her white sweater. His gaze settled on her mouth. Red lipstick outlined her lips, lips that were now laughing.

Wait, she was saying something. What?

“Earth to Will.” She chuckled softly.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked when you planned to start working on your man cave now that we’re done at the Fehrs’.”

“Oh, right. Feels strange to have free time, doesn’t it? I figured I’d get started right away. What are your plans?”

“I don’t really have any. Need some help framing?”

He grinned. “Sure, if you’re willing to work cheap.”

“Silly, I’m offering as a friend.” She looked away. “One who needs to keep busy.”

His grin faded. He leaned forward and placed his large hand over her small one. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Their dinner arrived, to Nila’s obvious relief. She seemed to shrink back against the seat as if trying to distance herself from him, her eyes on her plate.

Will watched her for another moment, sighed, and turned his attention to his meal. His steak was cooked just the way he liked it, but the sudden tension at their table dulled his pleasure. The tender, rare steak might as well have been shoe leather.

Something wasn’t right. Why wouldn’t she tell him? Or was this some kind of game, playing hot and then cold? He’d known girls like that but didn’t think Nila was one of them. Was he making a fool of himself?

She put her fork down and raised her eyes to his. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m not being good company.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Shame kicked him in the gut. She wasn’t playing a game. But something was definitely not right.

He took her cold hand in his once more. “What’s going on, Nila? You know you can trust me, don’t you?”

She looked away but didn’t remove her hand from his. “I trust you.” Her eyes met his again. “You’re a good man, Will, and your friendship means the world to me. But I’m not…I mean, I’d like us to keep being friends. I’m afraid I can’t be anything more. At least, for now.” She looked down, and a tear plopped onto her plate.

Will frowned. “I’m not trying to push you into a relationship if you’re not ready. This is a celebration between friends. OK?” Even if he’d hoped it would be more.

She wiped her eyes and offered a wobbly smile. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m ruining our evening, and you’ve been wonderful.” She sat up straighter, bit her lower lip, and sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”

One corner of Will’s mouth twitched. “Sure. How’s your chicken?”

“Fantastic.”

Then why wasn’t she eating? “Glad to hear it.”

She pushed her food around her plate.

This evening was going nowhere fast.

He seemed to have blown it.

“Will, may I ask you a personal question?”

A sigh of relief escaped. “Anything.”

She turned her head toward the window. In the reflection, Will could see the tightness around her mouth.

“Have you ever had trouble forgiving someone?”

“Yes.” His eyes met hers in the reflection.

She blushed and turned to face him.

He continued, “I’m awfully stubborn, and forgiveness doesn’t come easily for me. Did you know that Faith used to call me ‘Willful’ when we were kids? It fit. I can hold a grudge for a long time.”

Nila ducked her head. “Me, too. And now God can’t forgive me. I think He’s angry with me.”

Confusion puckered Will’s brow. “What are you talking about?”

She shifted in her seat, still looking down. “It’s in the Bible, where Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray.”

“Really?”

“Pastor Dave read it. He said if we don’t forgive others, then God won’t forgive us.”

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know if I can answer that, Nila. Did you ask Dave or Lydia about this?”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “I couldn’t.”

He clamped down on the “Why?” begging to be asked. “Well, the way I understand it is this: when we refuse to forgive, we’re putting ourselves in God’s place.”

He heard her inhale. “O-oh. So if I put myself above God, there’s no way I can receive His forgiveness.” A wan smile broke through. “Next question: how do I forgive?”

Will blew out a long breath. “That’s a tough one. Only way I know of is to step down from the judge’s chair. Give the situation to God. Let Him deal with it. Back up, hands off, leave it to Him.”

“You make it sound easy, but I don’t know if I can do that.” She sighed. “Thanks, though.”

They chatted easily after that, discussing work and Christmas plans.

Will felt a twinge of disappointment when the waiter brought the bill, signalling a close to their evening together.

“This has been good,” Will said with a smile. “I hope we can do this again.”

The glow in Nila’s eyes intensified. “I’d like that.”

He paid the bill and helped her into her coat. She smiled up at him, eyes soft. Will wondered at the invitation there. He sighed and drew her to him in a gentle hug. “Thanks for having dinner with me. You’re a very special friend, you know.” He reached around her and opened the door.

Together they faced the bitter wind swirling down the street. He put his arm around Nila, and they hurried around the corner to Daniel’s truck.

Will’s steps slowed.

Something wasn’t right. The truck leaned toward the sidewalk.

As they neared, he could see the reason. Both driver’s side tires had been slashed.

Nila made a strangled sound, pulled away from him, and shrank against the wall. “No! I didn’t…”

Will barely glanced at her. “What are you talking about? Of course you didn’t do this.”

But she hugged herself, backed up, shook her head, and muttered something he couldn’t decipher.

He muttered some words, too, that he immediately regretted. Groaning a prayer for forgiveness, he pulled out his cellphone and punched in the number of the towing company. “Maybe I should put them on speed dial,” he growled.

Assured that Daniel’s truck could be delivered to his shop, he dialed the number for a taxi company. “I have to wait here for the tow truck,” he said, “so I’m afraid you’ll have to take a cab home. I’m sorry.”

Nila was still huddled against the restaurant wall, refusing to meet his eyes.

He put his arm around her, and she shivered. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’ll be fifteen or twenty minutes before the cab gets here. It’s too cold to wait outside, and I could use a cup of coffee. How about you?”

She nodded, still shivering, and huddled into his side as though trying to hide.

They took a table near a window so they could watch for the taxi and tow truck.

Nila sat hunched over as though in pain, but she didn’t make a sound.

“Are you OK?” Will reached toward her, but her hands gripped her arms. He frowned and sipped his coffee without speaking again.

Ten minutes later a cab pulled up in front of the restaurant.

“It’s here,” he said as he slid out of the bench seat. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you.” She spoke so softly he could barely hear her.

“I’ll phone you tomorrow, all right?” He grimaced. “Next time will be better. I promise.”

Her lips trembled and she ducked her head. “Goodnight, Will.”

As he watched the taillights of the taxi disappear down the street, Will made another phone call.

“My name is Will Jamison, I’m at Geno’s Restaurant, and someone slashed my—I mean my boss’s—tires. I’ve already phoned for a tow truck, but I wonder if an officer would come take a look. Thanks, I’ll wait inside.”

 

****

 

“Where to, miss?” The cab driver’s cheery, feminine voice broke into Nila’s dark thoughts.

She recited Dave and Lydia’s address without looking up.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

Nila couldn’t answer that simple question. It had been, mostly, until the end. She shivered.

“Kinda cold, isn’t it? I can turn up the heat if you’d like.”

She looked up, and via the rear-view mirror, her gaze connected with the driver’s. Nila couldn’t look away. Darkness hid the color, but the cabbie’s eyes shone as though lit from inside. She smiled at Nila’s reflection, a smile that seemed somehow familiar.

Nila’s brow puckered. “Do I know you?”

“Don’t think so.”

The driver turned her attention to the road, so Nila glanced at the nametag hanging from the dash.

“Deborah Jones,” she whispered the name, trying to remember if they’d met before. She leaned forward for a better look at the woman’s photo on her cab license. Chin-length, straight brown hair, button nose, and a square jawline didn’t look familiar. But the eyes…

“Yep, that’s me.” The driver must have heard somehow. “And you are?”

Their eyes connected again, and Nila had the strangest feeling that her answer wasn’t necessary.

“Nila Black. Are you sure we don’t know each other from somewhere?”

“Nope.” She began to whistle “O, Come, All Ye Faithful” as she steered.

Nila sat back and looked out the window. Christmas lights seemed to mock her with their merry brightness.

“You’re almost home, Nila.” Deborah’s clear voice startled her. “You need to remember, dear one, that you have a heavenly Father who loves you very much. You are not alone, no matter how things feel.”

Nila gasped. “H-how…?”

But the taxi driver didn’t respond. Minutes later, she parked in Dave and Lydia’s driveway. Then she turned to face Nila, and her shining eyes and warm smile felt like a benediction. “Don’t let difficulties keep you from your Father. He’s waiting to hear your voice again.” She shook her head at the money Nila offered for the fare. “It’s been taken care of.”

Speechless, Nila climbed out of the cab and went into the house. She locked the door behind her and peeked out the narrow sidelight. The cab was gone.