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“YEAH." HE NODDED, COMING out of his reverie. "Last night was the kick-off for my first West Coast tour. I'm heading out in a few days." When he saw the look on her face, he frowned. "I mentioned it a few times last night."
"I'm sure you did, but last night I didn't know you, so...." She smiled ruefully. A tear slid from the corner of her eye and she turned away so he wouldn't see it. Too late; he reached over and wiped it away with his fingertip.
"Hey." He took her hand and led her back to the steps, pulling her down to sit beside him. He waited patiently while she cried, shoulder to shoulder, otherwise, not touching her, but handing her napkins from the coffee tray as needed.
"I'm so sorry, Trevor. I really am a mess. Gia's worried for good reason. I feel like I'm doing everything I can possibly think of just to hold my head above water, but nothing I do seems to work. I keep going under, and I'm so afraid I'm not going to come back up." She paused, remembering his songs, his voice, and the things he shared about love. "Last night, you sang into places in my heart that haven't been reached in a long time. So long, in fact, that I didn't even know they were still there. You talked about being a slave to stuff and that's how I feel. I feel like those locked places house parts of me that are chained to anger and bitterness, to fear. I don't want to look at them, I don't want to face them, but they've been let out now, and I can't shut them up again."
She told him then about the night her parents were killed; about Angela Clinton, and the consuming anger she felt every time she thought of her. She told him about her years of tight-fisted control, of her perfectly laid plans, of the last near-decade she'd spent waiting for a man who didn't know if he wanted her.
"Oh, how I long to be loved unconditionally, the way God seems to love everyone but me. I would give anything to know that kind of love. To know He thinks of me that way. I wish I could see Him the way you do, the way my friend does. But I can't, Trevor. To me, God is cruel and unpredictable, and He doesn't like me any more than I like Him. Is...is it me? Is there something wrong with me?"
Trevor didn't answer her right away, and she saw his lips move silently again. She realized then that he was praying and she looked away, giving him privacy. He wasn't going to give her some flippant, easy answer to her deepest pain. He was going to handle with care what she'd entrusted to him.
Finally, he spoke. "Juliette, there are so many things that happen to us, things we can't control, both good and bad. Whether you believe in God or not, bad things are going to happen to us because we live in this imperfect world in these imperfect bodies with these terribly imperfect minds and hearts. Some of us will endure stuff far worse than others. What happened that night with your parents changed everything for you and your family. I can't even imagine what you've gone through." He poked her knee. "And you let me go on and on about how wonderful my parents are and how I couldn't have survived without them. But you somehow did just that, didn't you? I'm sorry."
"Don't be silly. You didn't know." She poked him back. "I could have spoiled the mood and said something like, 'Cool. My folks are dead.' Wouldn't that have been a downer?"
"Okay, yeah. That would have sucked a little. But I could have handled it. I'm a big boy now. Passed that pimple-faced stage years ago." He stood up and stretched, then crouched down in front of her so he could look her in the eyes.
"Listen. I don't have all the answers for you. Only God does. But this I can promise you." He reached over and lifted her face with a hand cupping her chin. "Are you listening?"
"Yes," she murmured softly, hoping her nose wasn't running.
"Remember the motorcycle ride? Remember how I said it was like being in a relationship with God, that you have to be willing to trust Him, and let Him lead, let Him be the One in control?" He rubbed away tears with his thumb then lowered his hand to her hands where they were clenched together in her lap.
She nodded, but didn't look away.
"If you will give Him all those hidden places, those chained up parts of you, He'll release you. It won't be easy, I can assure you. Daily, you'll have to choose to hand Him the keys to your heart. Daily, you'll have to choose to follow Him into those dark rooms and let Him teach you how to be a new you. He doesn't let us just sit around while He does all the work. He's a much better Father than that! But He'll let you know what it is you must do to air out those rooms, and He'll go through it all with you." Trevor brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles and stood up again. "He loves you, Juliette, far more than any man ever could. He's not some cruel master. He wants you to call Him 'Husband.'" He said it just like Sharon had, and Juliette lowered her gaze, her breath catching at the intimacy in his voice. He placed a hand on the top of her head. It felt like a blessing. "All you have to do is get down off the slave block and into His wagon—or on the back of His Harley—and go home with Him so He can set you free from all that stuff keeping you enslaved."
Warmth flooded over her, from the top of her head where Trevor's hand rested, all the way to the tips of her toes, where they were still ensconced in Gia's boots. She knew, without a doubt, that he was right; she just had to let God take over. Something inside of her sprang open, like a skylight, and she smiled to herself, imagining how Sharon would react when she told her.
Right there on the front steps of her home, she and Trevor held hands while he led her in a prayer similar to the one the pastor prayed the night before. "Father, You know my broken heart even better than I do." Juliette repeated the words, forcing them out past the tightness in her throat. "I need You, Jesus, to wash me clean. I need You to break the chains of sin in my life. I'm sorry for my anger and bitterness toward You. I'm sorry for running from You again and again. I want You to live in me. I give You my heart, Jesus. Help me to see You as my loving husband. Teach me how to love like You do. Amen."
Trevor stayed with her a little longer to make sure she was okay, and she promised to let Sharon know about her freed heart first thing in the morning.
"It's really important you don't try to go from this place on your own. You need to have other believers supporting you, helping you understand. Do you have a Bible?"
"Somewhere, yes." Renata had once gifted all her sisters with a Bible. Juliette thought it might be out in a box of books in her garage.
"Read Hosea chapter six, verses one through three. Just those three verses for now. Ask God to show you something in them, something just for you. He will. He'll meet you in those verses." Trevor helped her to her feet. "Do you want me to write that down?"
"I'll remember." She hadn't been able to get the story of the prophet out of her mind for the last twenty-four hours. She tucked back a few strands of hair that had come loose from the braid and looked up at Trevor. "I don't know quite what to say now. I've never had a date end like this before."
"Ah!" Trevor grabbed her shoulders and brought her close in a fierce hug. "Remember what I said? This wasn't a date. It was a divine appointment! How much bigger can you get than redemption and hope and salvation? Yes!" He whooped loudly, and she put out a hand to shush him.
"My neighbor is going to call the cops," she giggled.
"It'll just be Vic. He'll cover for us." Officer Jarrett's name threw a damper on things.
Trevor slid his hands down her arms until he held both her hands in his, and dipped his head to meet her eyes, his tone suddenly still and serious. "Hey. I don't know what that was all about; Vic's little visit. I've never seen him be intentionally rude before. I'll apologize for him because I know him, and that was totally out of character for him." He frowned, more to himself than to her, obviously concerned for both Juliette and his friend. "But I don't want his behavior to mess with your head, especially tonight. That's how the devil works; he likes to wander into the middle of things and throw cold water on the fire of the Holy Spirit, and he'll use whatever he can to do it, even the good guys if they're all he's got available to him. And I can assure you," he squeezed her hands to emphasize his words. "Victor Jarrett is one of the good guys. Apparently, it was a bad night for him, but that doesn't mean it has to be a bad night for you, okay?" He waited for her nod, then dropped her hands and picked up the coffee tray.
"Now, I'm going to brave the house because I need to use your bathroom." His tone was again light, teasing. "Can I trust you not to take advantage of me once I step inside your lady-lair?"
"I'll try to restrain myself. In fact, I'll wait outside for you," she promised, his words making her smile. "It's the first door on the right down the hall. You can't miss it."
She sat back down on the top step, toying with one of the boot buckles. She eyed the bike, and sighed as she thought again of how alive she'd felt sitting behind Trevor, giving him full control, trusting him—quite literally—with her life. That's what God wanted too, for her to trust Him with her life. No, it wasn't safe, and it wasn't going to be easy, as Trevor had said. But the freedom that came from leaning with, instead of against, of keeping her feet up and out of the way, it all made sense to her on a much deeper level now. She giggled at the thought of Jesus pulling up on a Harley and asking her to ride with Him.
Then she remembered how loud the bike was. She'd hear about it in the morning, she was sure. Yappy-dog would come out, and Mrs. Cork would ignore its activity while she complained aloud to herself about noisy neighbors. Then she'd scoop up her dog and go back inside, leaving the little brown pile behind.
"Grrr." Juliette grumbled.
"Are you growling?" Trevor asked from behind her, startling her.
"Can you just pretend you didn't hear that?" Juliette peered up at him from the corner of her eye. She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up.
"Of course," he laughed. Then he brought her fingers to his lips, and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. "Farewell, Miss Juliette. Thank you for the lovely evening." He released her hand, loaded her arms with the four cushions they'd used, then said, "Remember: He sought you out tonight, and you were paid for. In full. Now it's all about learning to live in the freedom of His love. Don't give up."
"I won't," she assured him.
He took the three steps down to the sidewalk. "And don't believe the devil when he whispers to you that it isn't real, or that it didn't happen, or that it's not worth it. He'll try to convince you. He'll work every angle he's got. That's why it's so important to plug in right away, you understand? Call your friend. Don't put it off."
"I won't," she said again.
Halfway down the walk he turned around and repeated what he'd said earlier. "I know he acted like a jerk, but Vic really is a good guy. I'd trust him with my life. If you ever need anything, he's the man to call."
"I won't." This time she only muttered the words under her breath, smiling beatifically.
Juliette shuddered at the thought of intentionally facing Officer Jarrett again. His unkind treatment tonight had really hurt, and she didn't think she could handle any more of his aggression. She was far too vulnerable these days.
Trevor's bike rumbled to life, and she watched until he disappeared around the corner. When she could no longer hear him, she went inside and closed the door.
