Lyssa sat slumped in a chair at On the Rise Bakery & Bistro, nursing a Java Chiller containing a double shot of mocha. The richly caffeinated chocolate tantalized her nostrils and swirled around inside her mouth. How could this much caffeine calm her? But it had, with a molten lava cake as helpmeet. She pressed her finger against the few remaining crumbs then licked them off.
With the last deep-brown fleck gone, she said good-bye to Kirk Kennedy. Like the confection, he’d been a tantalizing pleasure while he lasted. Her gaze drifted to the dessert case. She could get another piece of cake, but her relationships wouldn’t be mended by indulging in more calories. Though it was a temptation. A strong one.
“Hey, Lys. I thought you’d be at the church office.” Jeannie. Lyssa looked up. “Just taking a break.” Not that she could hide from Kirk forever, but she’d give it a good shot. “Gonna be here for a few? I’ll join you.” Whatever. Lyssa hitched her shoulder then watched as her roommate waved down a waitress and placed her order. The waitress reached for Lyssa’s plate, which was all but licked clean.
Lyssa snagged the fork off it. “I’m having some of yours,” she informed Jeannie.
“That bad?” Her roommate cocked her head. “You look like you just lost your best friend. But I’m here, so that’s not it.
What’s up?”
“You were right. I was wrong.”
The waitress set a molten lava cake, mounded with vanilla bean ice cream, in front of Jeannie, along with a Java Chiller.
Lyssa pulled the plate closer and dug her fork into the cake.
“Of course I’m right.” Jeannie tugged the plate back and scooped a large bite. “What did I say? What context?”
Like her roommate didn’t know. “Kirk. You told me to stay clear of him, but I figured I could handle things.”
“What happened?” When Lyssa didn’t answer right away, Jeannie poked her hand gently with the fork. “Hey. Talk to me.”
Lyssa sighed and updated her roommate. “He’s just playing with my mind.”
“So you’re even, then.”
“What?” Lyssa narrowed her eyes.
“Seriously. You’ve been messing with him, too. How long did you expect to go in this relationship without ‘fessing up to the past? Did you think you’d tell him on your wedding day? Or maybe hold it in until you died of old age?”
“I don’t know. The time just hasn’t been right. I hate confrontation.”
“You need to let go of the issues with your parents.” Jeannie tapped the fork against the nearly empty plate.
Lyssa reared back. “Thanks, Freud. What has that got to do with anything?”
“I won’t even start on how your mom’s abandonment crushed you at your most vulnerable age. I cried over everything when I was twelve. Mama couldn’t even ask me for a weather report without me breaking into tears.”
On Lyssa’s first day of junior high she’d come home to find that Mom had taken a suitcase and left a note. Lyssa had only cried the once. It hadn’t brought Mom back. A girl had to be tough to survive.
“But I think you resent your dad more than your mother.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. What kind of mother abandons her kids, leaving them with a man so tied up in his work he barely knows their names?”
Jeannie nodded. “Don’t forget the crux of the matter.” She had another bite.
Oh yeah. “His church work. He was so busy handing out tracts and explaining the way of salvation to people who didn’t even want to hear it that he had no clue what was going on in his own home.”
“A respected community leader.”
What, was her roommate crazy? Jeannie’d heard the stories. “When he finally went to school events, he discovered a treasure trove, a whole new captive audience he could preach at. He turned me into a pariah. Everyone laughed at me.”
Jeannie set her Java Chiller, laced with hazelnut, back on the table. “And as a result, you veer away from mentioning your faith to anyone.”
“I remember far too well what that ridicule felt like.” Lyssa met her roommate’s eyes. “That’s why Kirk—Professor Kennedy—made me so crazy in college. He treated you like an outcast, and you didn’t seem to care. I couldn’t take it all over again.”
“I cared, but I couldn’t let him stomp all over me.” Jeannie studied her. “But even after your dad, even after humanities, you still believe. You’re still a Christian.”
Lyssa spread her hands. “There isn’t anything that makes more sense to me. Faith gives me a reason for living. I do believe.”
Jeannie leaned back in the chair. “If you were still dating Professor Kennedy, I’d say that you need to tell him that, one way or another, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, if you’re done with him.”
Shards of ice surrounded Lyssa’s heart. Jeannie was right. It was too late.
Kirk thumbed off his cell phone when his brother came in the apartment door. Two days later, and Lyssa still wasn’t picking up calls from him. He and Dale had been working flat out, preparing for Monday’s grand opening. “Everything ready?”
Dale swung his briefcase onto the table. “Yep. Looks pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He headed over to the fridge and pulled a can of cola out of the box.
“Yeah, it does.” Right down to the Rainbow’s End Treasure Hunt poster in the window. Dale had grimaced when Kirk put it up but hadn’t challenged him. Kirk would’ve been ready to argue, so maybe it was a good thing. “Ready for food? I can fire up the grill anytime.”
“Sounds good.” Dale popped the tab and took a deep guzzle. “What’s for dinner?”
“I’ve got a pasta salad in the fridge and some burgers ready to cook.”
A shadow crossed Dale’s face as he sat back down. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to Jefferson City.”
“Learn to cook?” Kirk meant the words lightly but wished he could bite them back when his brother’s jaw clenched.
Dale looked down. “Yeah. I might have to.”
He’d never much learned how, sliding through college on boxed mac ‘n’ cheese like most guys. And then married Debbie, who’d taken good care of him for most of the intervening years. Kirk, on the other hand, had eventually tired of packaged food and takeout, and applied himself to learning the culinary arts. There’d been no woman around offering to do it for him.
He headed for the balcony door. Did Lyssa know how to cook? He bet she did. Any gal that was so adamant about not drinking soda probably cared even more about the quality of her food. Kirk could quit the cola and feel less withdrawal than not seeing her. The ache of her rejection showed no sign of lifting. Surely life would settle down a bit once the store was open and the treasure hunt rolling. He’d do everything he could to make amends.
Kirk checked the propane valve on the barbecue then ignited it.
When he turned back to the kitchen, Dale sat leaning against the table, head in his arms. “You okay, man?”
Didn’t look like it. Dale’s shoulders shook as he choked out, “Why did God let Debbie die?”
Like Kirk was the God expert in this family. That had been Debbie’s thing. He’d thought it was also his brother’s, until a few days ago. If only Dale could have this conversation with Lyssa. She went to church. She could probably help him.
“I shouldn’t have moved here. I’ve left everything of her behind.”
Which had been the point, to give Dale a fresh start. “It’ll be okay. It takes time.”
“I just want her back. What did I do to make God hate me?”
Whoa. Once Kirk would have said God was just a figment of folks’ imaginations. After Debbie, he wasn’t so sure. And Lyssa. “Hate‘s a mighty strong word.”
“I loved her. We had so many plans. She wanted to travel, and I was too busy. She wanted to have kids years ago, and I just wasn’t ready until it was too late.”
“You have to let go.” Kirk pulled the container of beef patties out of the fridge. “We all have regrets, but it’s best not to dwell on them.” At least not sink oneself into them, not that he truly understood the depths of his brother’s despair. He’d only begun to woo Lyssa when the lid had snapped on his fingers. Thanks to Dale.
“You?” Dale’s harsh laugh echoed around the apartment. “What have you done that you regretted?”
He didn’t want to go there. Kirk gave his head a quick shake to clear it. “Trust me, there’s been plenty.” He strode out to the barbecue, slapped the patties on, and headed back into the kitchen.
Dale narrowed his gaze at Kirk. “You were Mom’s golden boy.”
“Good grief, don’t drag up ancient history. Get the condiments and rolls out, please. Have you seen the long-handled spatula?”
“Third drawer.” “Thanks.”
Dale followed him to the balcony. “Seriously. What did you ever do that you regretted more than a day or two?”
The burgers weren’t ready to flip. Kirk studied Dale leaning against the doorjamb. Could either of them handle this discussion? He took a deep breath. “I’m not so proud of the way I’ve poked fun of people’s beliefs.” Dale snorted. “Get real.”
“I am.”
“Debbie was really into that religion thing. She believed right down to her toenails.”
Kirk nodded and checked the meat again. Lyssa hadn’t seemed to want to talk about her faith when he’d tried to steer the conversation there. Didn’t mean she wasn’t as into it as Debbie had been. Did it?
“You never hassled her. Man, you never hassled me either, when I went to church with her.”
True. Kirk hadn’t been an equal-opportunity troublemaker. “I didn’t want to wreck what you guys had. Besides, Debbie was for real.” Maybe those students in humanities had been real, too. Who knew?
“Yeah, she was. God should’ve left her alone. Left us alone. At least if He cared about me, He would have. I was thinking seriously about that stuff and then whap!” Dale thwacked the glass door. “The end.”
Kirk flipped the burgers. “Debbie wasn’t bitter.” The joy she’d had even in the midst of cancer had done a lot to challenge his views on Christianity. She’d had strength from within, even as her body faded.
Dale pulled away from the jamb. “She left the bitterness for me.”
Kirk glanced at his brother. “I don’t think it’s one of those things where somebody has to take the role.” He took a deep breath. “Have you tried reaching for her peace instead of rejecting it?” If Dale figured out how to do that, maybe he could help Kirk. They could both use peace with God.
Silence hung between them for a moment. “Since when are you the expert? Good thing I saved you from yourself with that church girl. Next thing I’d know, you’d be preaching on street corners like that bozo in Jefferson City.”
“You saved me? Good one, Dale. You found happiness with a Christian. Why couldn’t I? What gives you the right to blast my chances to smithereens?”
Dale leaned closer. “Because I own controlling shares in the business. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for your input. Just don’t try to run things.”
“That had nothing to do with it. Just because you lost Debbie doesn’t mean I shouldn’t fall in love.” Because that’s what he’d been doing. Falling for a girl with gorgeous eyes. “Not trying to hurt you, man, but don’t interfere with my life.” If only Lyssa would pick up his calls.
“Don’t burn the burgers. I’ll go set the table.” Dale stormed back inside.