8
The words weren’t flowing. Kameron stared at a cursor that had gone to sleep. He’d been home in his apartment two days. Home. It was just a place to sleep and work. Home was a place like Hayley’s where her sunny touch brightened her surroundings. Home was a place like Gregg’s where, needy and noisy as they were, dogs provided company.
He gnawed his knuckle. The few words at the top of a blank computer page had been the same few words for longer than he knew. Instead of a conflict between characters related to his plot, memories of Hayley interrupted. Her joyful, energetic, gorgeous countenance kept rising to cloud the forefront of his mind.
She cared for the people who inhabited her village, and the strangers who entered her shop to sift through her trinkets. Trinkets. Their matching jewelry trinkets should matter to both of them. God must have had a hand in the two of them meeting. The most important thing that mattered to her involved God’s message of salvation. She clung to Bible verses and cared enough for him, same as Gregg, to try to convince him that he, Kameron Kohl, needed Jesus in his life.
He bit down so hard on his finger that he yelped.
Maybe he’d get things to mesh if he ate. Nine thirty at night and he had no idea when he’d last eaten something. Food might feed the muse. He set aside the laptop and stood so fast his head swam. Collecting himself, he moved to flip on the counter light in the kitchenette and grabbed frozen lasagna from the freezer. To be civilized, he set the table. Plate instead of serving container. Glass for apple juice. Cup on the counter for coffee after he’d eaten.
Once he’d finished, he still felt alone.
I will never leave you nor forsake you.
Kameron dropped his chin onto his chest. “Oh, God. I know You keep your promises. Touch my heart so my soul knows it.”
The third morning since Kameron hadn’t come in. Hayley rearranged a Christmas display that offered goods from tiny slipper ornaments to Old St. Nick and Victorian postcards. She traced an angel figurine’s white hair, looked into the painted eyes. “Lord, I think I’m lonely for the first time ever. Please show me the way. I miss Kameron and don’t want to pressure him with what the Bible says. He’s lost and needs you, but I need to be his friend.”
The day they’d first met, his forehead rippled at her interruption. She’d ignored it because on some level, she’d recognized his hurt. Although he wore that grim look and was clearly not open to small talk, she’d offered him friendship. What was he doing this very moment? Could he be missing her?
Auntie’s Antiquities had always been her comfort zone. If she got bored with watching cartoons or later with homework while Mom worked downstairs, Hayley joined her. She got hooked into the collecting and selling thing and never wanted to move on to a big career. She’d never considered this a lonely life. Her life was normal, exactly where God wanted her.
Until now, missing Kameron. As he entered her head for the hundredth time, she turned on her computer, ever searching pictures for chains or a double locket to match the one at her throat. How did jewelry get fishing names? Sailor, fish hook, lobster clasp, lanyard.
The door opened. “Hey, old friend, I’m home.”
“Blythe. Oh, my goodness. I’m so glad to see you.” Hayley bumped her knee against the edge of the breakfront, ignored the pain, and raced to her best friend’s open arms.
They embraced and squeezed one another for a long time.
Hayley stepped back to look into Blythe’s bright sea-green eyes. “God created a good thing in a hug.”
“I’ve missed you, but I’m getting plenty of hugs.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
“I do. First I want a piece of fudge and cup of coffee. Your coffee is brewtiful. I’ve missed it almost as much as I’ve missed you.”
“If there’s a man in your life, you haven’t been missing me much. You’re probably so busy you haven’t had time to remember me.”
“Are you kidding? I have the special gifts you’ve given me over the years situated around my apartment. Do you have any small Christmas angels?”
“Later. You’re changing the subject.” Hayley set out a fudge sampler and filled poinsettia decorated cups with aromatic spicy blend.
Blythe inhaled. “His name is Trace. He’s on fire for the Lord. One of his favorite sayings is ‘If God is your co-pilot, you’d better switch seats.’”
“Oh, I like that.” Hayley leaned closer as a noisy group of customers entered. “I can’t wait to tell you about the writer who watched over Pastor Gregg’s house. He came here because the dogs annoy him. I really like Kameron, but he’s been hurt in life. Though he knows what the Bible says, the Lord isn’t real to him.”
“Got it.” Blythe savored a tiny bite of hazelnut fudge. “A writer. I can see the caption. ‘Lonely author comes to dog-sit for the pastor and melts the antiquities seller’s heart.’”
“Silly girl.” Hayley punched the air between them, and finished her coffee. She left the counter to welcome a family.
“Let me know if you have questions about anything.” To the three children, she pointed out the bank vault. “Inside that heavy door is all kinds of candy you’re welcome to check out if it’s OK with your parents.”
A black-haired boy about six hesitated next to her.
“Hi. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A kid.”
Blythe pretended to cough. “Didn’t expect that answer, did you? Wouldn’t it be great to grow up with a child’s heart? Mom would say Dad’s still a kid ‘cuz she watches out for him.”
“I’ll sack up fudge for your mom.” Hayley answered a question about where to find a couple peacock goodies, glanced at the kids exclaiming over the penny candy in the vault, and returned to Blythe.
“I’ll tell you all about Trace when you come over to eat. Mom said to ask if tomorrow night works.”
“It works.”
“So, tell me about this Kameron.” Blythe sipped coffee and waited.
Hayley kept one eye on her customers, but glanced at the marble-topped antique table and pictured Kameron sitting there. “When he showed up he was so serious, unhappy. I barged in on his writing process by offering coffee. My heart went right out to him. Pastor Gregg’s sister adopted Kameron and took care of Pastor’s house and cooked meals. That means Kam grew up in the church. He admits Jesus isn’t in his heart. I’ve never seen him smile, but how does a person deal with being abandoned as an infant?”
“Wow.” Blythe stood taller. “I believe your guy just walked in.”
Hayley swiveled around. Sure enough, Kameron stood on the threshold. She rushed to meet him and encircled his arm. “Kam, hi. Come meet my best friend, Blythe Travis.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard about you. Your mom’s a terrific cook.”
“Don’t I know it. Writing is a mystery to me. Is it hard?”
“I suppose it can be sometimes. It’s just what I do to keep myself busy.”
“On that note, I need to hoof it across the street and keep Mom company or she’ll wonder why I came home.” Blythe grabbed her mom’s fudge.
Hayley walked Blythe to the door.
She kissed Hayley on the cheek and whispered, “He does look sad. And something besides lonely. He has a heavy heart.”
Hayley filled a large mug and took it to Kameron, who was still wearing his coat. “It’s busy and bound to be noisy. Why don’t you go upstairs to write? Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll see you later?”
His whole body released tension as though telling her thanks. Her handsome writer took to the hall and climbed the stars.
She pictured him entering her tiny kitchen. Did he perform his writing ritual at the table or in a corner of the couch?
Hours later, he emerged, yawning.
She couldn’t help but grin over the disoriented expression he wore. He must still have his head in some odd make-believe world.
Busy with several sales, they were unable to talk. The woman at the counter was distracted by her small daughter. While she dug through a combination diaper bag/purse, Hayley grabbed a moment. “Excuse me, please.”
She held out her phone. “Kam, I won’t apologize for being busy. Could we exchange phone numbers, please?”
He offered her his phone and entered his contact info in hers. Would the phone connection keep them in touch?
That night, Kameron had to see Hayley’s face to face, not just listen to her voice. He shrugged his shoulders, did the breathing thing, and knocked.
She opened the door and motioned him in.
His whole insides sighed. How corny was that? He unzipped his coat, ready to soak in the warmth of Hayley and her bright, happy abode. Why did he have to use words in his head like a writer?
“Christmas blend spice tea, or hot cocoa?”
“Hot chocolate sounds good. It’s cold and damp outside. Must be gonna snow.” Lame conversation. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to kiss her. “Need some help?”
“Sure. Grab the milk and choose a couple mugs. You might want to rinse them out. I always use the one with the sunflower. I’ll grab a wooden spoon and man the stove.”
“First, I have to do something.” He moved in close, cupped her shoulders, and turned her to face him. They stood so close he saw green flecks in her eyes of gold. He froze. She smelled divine. He closed his eyes to breath in her essence.
He wrote about kids. Distant, adolescent crushes, sometimes a kiss on the cheek or a hug, now that he had a girl in the current story. Never had he imagined proximity like this, a woman like this. He opened his eyes and savored what he read in her face. Lovely, open, trusting. Light brown, wispy short hairs lined her forehead, different from the shades of her blonde ponytail.
Her eyes drifted closed but moved beneath the lids. Her nostrils flared. She experienced something, had to be aware of the change in air they breathed.
What to do? He should move away.
She made the tiniest moan in the back of her throat.
The sound jarred him like a lightning bolt.
Longing. Passion. Restraint.
She placed her hand on his arm.
He lost it. His hand tunneled at the base of her skull so her hair tumbled down to tickle his fingers.
He had to kiss her. Did that sort of thing come naturally?
Every atom in his being shouted to pull her close and savor. Cherish. He kissed one closed eyelid and then the other. One temple and the other. One silky cheekbone and the matching one. He trailed tickling, light caresses along her jawline.
She moaned and sagged against him.
His arms went around her, and he ever so gently brushed the corner of her mouth.
She moved a fraction of an inch to answer the call of his lips.
For the first time ever, he lost himself in another.