A Chance at Love (13 page)

The waitress came over to our table and I ordered a turkey club and water. Joanie ordered a soda. As the waitress walked away, I said, “I talked to Mrs. Trey before you got out.”

“She’s really weird.”

“Bit of an odd duck, but she’s good. She recommended I get into college pronto.”

“College?” Joanie questioned as the server came back over and set the soda and water down on the table.

“Yeah . . . why are you questioning it?”

She shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the college type. I figured you’d go join Uncle Brady and go right to work since he offered you a job up in Redmond.”

“I don’t know about that. I’d have to move away from everything I know . . . bit of a leap.”

“You’d make bank there.”

“Yes, I know I would, but I’d have to move.” I thought about Emily. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“Emily?” she asked as she brought her straw to her lips.

“Yes.” I smiled. “She stole my heart, Joanie.”

A
few cars were in the parking lot of the mostly burned down grocery store that evening when I showed up to Mike’s men’s group. Checking my phone for the time, I saw that I was a few minutes early. I got out and headed to the west side of the building where Mike told me the entrance was. As I walked, I noticed all the damage to the building. While many of the windows were boarded up and the burned up wood cleared was out, there were still signs that a fire had ripped its way through the structure. My imagination took hold of my mind as I envisioned what the flames could have looked like as they reached out of the now boarded up windows and up the sides of the building.

Coming around the side of the structure, I found the door. There was a laminated sign that read:
Men of God
. Reaching for the handle, I pulled the door open and went in.

I walked into a room that was fairly large and open. It reminded me of the warehouse that my father’s shoe business operated out of. The floor was concrete and had a smooth feel under my sneakers.

A few chairs were scattered in a circular shape a few feet over to the right. A couple of guys were sitting and discussing something to do with football. I looked across the room and saw Mike. He was standing with another gentleman and sipping on coffee beside what looked like some sort of treat table.

I made my way over to Mike and the other guy. He tipped his chin to greet me as I walked over to them.

“Hey, Mike,” I said.

“This is Kyle, the young man I told you about that I work with at Pilo’s.”

I shook hands with the guy Mike was introducing. The man was balding, probably in his late fifties, and held a warm smile on face. “Kyle. Nice to meet you. I’m Charles Eckerson.” He turned to Mike and continued, “Mike tells me you developed an app in High School?”

“Yeah. It’s not much. It was an app a buddy and I made for our senior project. Just a basic inventory system for tracking groceries.”

“I see. I see.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked intrigued. “What’d you use to build it?”

“Primarily Java,” I replied.

“Ahh . . . Have you ever worked with C++?”

“A little bit. From what I understand, though, it’s a bit unsecure in comparison with Java.”

“There’s some validity to that.”

Mike interjected, “Save the nerd talk. We’re about to get started.”

We all headed over to the circle of chairs in the room, and I asked Mike, “Don’t we need to wait for everyone to get here?”

One of the men already sitting said, “This is it.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied.

“It’s small,” Mike said as he took a seat and set his coffee down on the chair beside him. “But it’s big enough to make an impact on eternity. The Lord says,
for where two or more gather, there am I
.”

Smiling, I nodded and took a seat.

After taking prayer requests, Mike opened up the gathering with a prayer. Warmness wrapped itself around me as we prayed for God to heal our nation, to help the sick, and to guide those in positions of power. We also prayed for all the men of the world and a special request for the men of God that are raising families.

“Amen,” all the men said together to finish the prayer.

Mike opened his Bible and said, “Today, I want to talk about God’s will in our lives. Oftentimes, we have a very limited way of thinking when it comes to His will. This is natural, though, because our minds are limited. What kind of limitations do we have that God does not?”

Charles raised his hand and Mike nodded to him. “We have only knowledge of what we have experienced. God has . . . you know . . . all of it.”

“Good,” Mike replied. “What else?” he asked, looking around the room.

“God exists outside of time,” another guy said. “So His thinking, like Scripture tells us, is not our thinking. He’s on a whole other level.”

Mike nodded. “Yep. So when we talk about
God’s will
in our life, we’re talking about God’s desire from an entirely broader and higher level of thinking. Even though we might
feel
like we know what’s best, there’s no way we could possibly know better than God.” Mike looked down at his Bible and continued, “Matthew 26:39. ‘Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.
” Mike paused for a moment and closed his Bible between his hands. “The son of God, which was man and God, had two distinct wills inside of Him, that of flesh and that of the divine. Jesus didn’t want to die, and He knew if there was a way out, His Father would deliver. Do you have two wills?” He asked, looking across the room. His voice deepened. “Are we, as men and leaders of our homes, looking for our own will to align with God’s? No matter what the cost?”

The room was quiet as he paused again.

His eyes met mine and then bounced to another man as he continued, “We obviously know our will should align with God’s. So how do we do it?”

I raised my hand, and Mike looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. “I think we use this passage to outline our prayers for both wills within us. We pray for what we want, but we also pray that His will be ultimately done.”

“That’s good, Kyle,” Mike replied. “Let me ask you this. What if God’s will doesn’t align with ours?”

“We have to deal with that. I would suspect it’s easier to deal with not getting what we want if we are also praying His will be done regardless of our will.”

“This kid!” Mike said with excitement as a grin broke out on his face. “Good! That’s really good.” He looked around at the other men and said, “God’s will is ultimately what we desire. Sure, we think getting our own way is ideal, but it’s really not. We don’t know what’s best for us. God does. Our thoughts only exist because he designed us to think. How much more powerful are His thoughts?”

The words were sinking into my heart and soul. It was spot on to what I needed to hear. A little too spot on, in a way. I grew suspicious through the rest of the study. My suspicions led me to believe that Mike must have gotten some inside information about the struggles I was going through. He must have talked to somebody.

After the meeting was over and everything was wrapping up, I hung back and followed Mike over to the table with the treats to help clean up the leftovers.

“Did you like it?” he asked as he swiped his hand across the table to push crumbs into the garbage can.

“I did. It was exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Good.”

“Yeah . . . A little too good. Who’d you talk to?”

He stopped and looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“Who was it? You talk to my sister or Grandma or something?”

He laughed and continued to clean. “No, man. I didn’t talk to anyone.”

“That’s not possible. It was exactly related to me.”

He looked at me again, and he gently pressed his finger against my chest. “That’s the Holy Spirit, Kyle. God’s always working things together. He knew you were going to come tonight before you were even born. Remember? He knows it all. What’d you want to talk about the other day at work?”

I smiled. “The message you delivered took care of it.”

“Okay. I’m curious, though—what’s going on?”

“Emily’s parents won’t let us see each other or even talk on the phone. Then the typical confusion about what to do with my life.”

Charles came walking up to us. “Hey, Kyle,” he said, approaching me.

“Hey,” I replied.

“It was nice meeting you.” He handed me a business card. “Give me a call if you want to work on a project. It’s not super big, but it involves some C++ and some Java. I could help you on the C++ parts, but I feel like you could be valuable asset.”

“Great,” I replied, putting the card in my wallet.

“The pay isn’t bad either. I just need a young mind that can get in there and be teachable. Lot of the old cats can’t be taught new tricks.”

“Right on,” I replied. “I’ll seriously think about it.”

“Let me know.” Turning to Mike, he said, “Great talk tonight. Loved it.” He shook Mike’s hand and then left.

Mike watched as Charles headed for the exit. He held a smile on his face.

“You really as happy as you come across? This group is pretty small.”

He nodded. “I have such a joy spending time with other men of God. That’s not to mention the thousands of lives that have changed through this group. We are actively involved with outreach in the community.” He grabbed the coffee pot and headed over to the small makeshift sink nearby to dump it out.

I followed him over.

As he rinsed it out, he said, “I’ve seen God make some radical changes in some of these men’s lives. I won’t go into the details, but they’ve been huge. The community outreach we’ve done has seen some excellent results too.”

“How? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Door knocking is a big one. We spend a Saturday every month knocking on doors for Jesus.”

“Wow. That’s gotta be scary.”

He shrugged, and we walked back over to the coffee pot. “It can be. It’s good though. We invite people to church, talk about Jesus, and usually stick to one major neighborhood each time we go out.”

“And that’s satisfying for you?”

“Oh, yes, Kyle. There’s nothing quite like seeing the spark in someone’s eye when you tell them about how wonderful God is. It doesn’t happen all the time like that. Most of it is all about planting the little seeds.”

“Seeds?”

“Yeah. Just like when you plant a seed in the ground, the earth will yield something. It’s the same thing with humanity. Whatever you sow, you’ll also reap.”

“That’s in the Bible, right?”

“Yes it is,” he replied with a smile.

After getting everything cleaned up, we headed out to the parking lot and I left to go home. On the drive home, I thought back to my parents and the conversation I had with my father. There wasn’t any way I could avoid a conversation with him forever, so I planned in my mind right then and there that I would speak to him the following day.

M
aking eye contact with my father the next morning in the kitchen as I sat at the kitchen table, I could tell he was still upset over the sour conversation we had previously. I watched as he poured his cup of coffee and then came over and sat down. Picking up the newspaper, he flipped through the pages until settling in on the sports section.

Joanie came into the kitchen and pulled down a coffee cup. I was surprised, since I hadn’t ever seen her drink any coffee before. She glanced over as she pulled creamer out of the fridge.

“You could cut the tension in this room with a knife,” she said with a bit of a laugh.

“Coffee?” our father said, lowering his newspaper to eyeball Joanie as she returned over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup.

“I’m practically seventeen now, Dad.” She grabbed the cup and poured creamer into it, followed by coffee.

He laughed. “You guys just seem to know everything nowadays. Why even have parents?”

“Oh, stop that,” my mother said, coming into the kitchen. “You two boys need to talk and get over this. Did your father tell you the mechanic called?”

“I was going to mention it . . .” my dad said, setting the newspaper down on the table. “The repair bill on your car is $437.”

“Dang,” I replied. “There goes my savings.”

My dad made eye contact. “Welcome to being an adult, Kyle. Next stop: the never-ending pit of debt.”

I nodded while remaining silent. Rubbing the rim of my coffee cup, I kept my lips sealed until my mother and sister left the room.

As Joanie rounded the corner and out of earshot, I said, “I feel bad for what happened the other day. I’m sorry for disrespecting you in any way you might have felt disrespected.”

“I’m not paying for your car,” he retorted.

His coldness cut me to the bone. He was ignoring the words I was saying, and he assumed that I was trying to get him to pay for my car. “I’m not looking for you to pay for it. . . I just felt bad about the other day. It wasn’t right on my part.”

“No, it wasn’t right. But that’s what’s wrong with this generation. They think they know everything.”

“Look, Dad. I’m trying to reason with you.”

“Yeah, I get it. You feel bad, and you’re sorry about it
if
I was offended. Noted. Thanks.” He picked up his newspaper and went back to reading.

I could hardly believe it. He didn’t make sense to me. Everything I had been learning about the Bible, the nature of God, and the way we as Christians were supposed to act, he was in complete contradiction to. Instead of getting upset and trying to convince him of any kind of truth, I simply said, “I’ll pray for you.” Then I got up from my seat and went and found my mom so she could give me a ride down to pick up my car.

Arriving at the mechanic shop, I got out of the car and went inside to pay. As I approached the counter, I saw someone who looked like Emily out the window and across the street, coming out of Jo’s Bakery. My heart began to race and I turned to go find out if it was her.

“Can I help you?” a man asked from behind me at the counter.

“I’ll be right back,” I replied, pushing open the door without looking back at him. A cold breeze pushed against me as I came out to the sidewalk in front of the mechanic shop, and I pulled both sides of my coat closer against my body as I looked across the street.

It was her.

As I took a step toward the street, a semi-truck suddenly whooshed by, sending an icy cold gust of wind into my face. Gripping the edges of my coat tighter, I shielded myself against the blast of coldness. As the truck left my vision, Emily was again revealed. This time I saw Patricia beside her.

Quickly turning myself back to the mechanic shop, my heart began to race. Why’d her mother have to be there? If I had only seen her a moment sooner, I might have been able to talk to her. Annoyed, I went back inside and up to the counter. I pulled out my wallet and asked, “How much is it?”

“What’s your name?” the guy asked.

“Last name Reynolds.”

“Just a moment . . .” He typed for a moment on a keyboard and then said, “Rebecca or Kyle?”

My eyes narrowed on him as my jaw clenched. “Kyle,” I replied, speaking through my teeth. Without closing my eyes, I began praying for the Lord to help me.

After getting my car keys back after paying, I headed out to go get my car. Glancing over at where I saw Emily and her mother previously, I was surprised to see they were still there.

Without hesitation, I decided to go try to speak with Emily. Hurrying across the street, I got up onto the sidewalk and approached them. Patricia began to look nervous as her eyes met mine.

She whispered something to Emily, let go of her hand, and then hurried down the sidewalk, cutting me off before I could reach her.

“I just want to talk to her,” I pleaded as I rested on my tip toes, looking past Patricia and at Emily.

“Her father and I don’t believe it’s a good idea if you two see each other anymore. We talked about it, prayed about it, and it’s just not going to happen, Kyle.”

I relaxed my footing and looked at her. “Really? Because of what happened that one night? It wasn’t even my fault; it was my car. I just got it out of the shop. You can even talk to the mechanic. It was out of my control.”

“Yes, because of
that
one night. It might not have been your fault, but there’s a lot you don’t understand about her condition.”

“Stop acting like I don’t understand. I get that you sacrificed a lot for her, but now you have to trust that you raised her right and strong. As for me and her, this could be her chance at love. Why would you want to prevent that?”

Her lips were pressed firmly together as she shook her head. “She’s our daughter, and as long as she lives with us, she’s going to abide by
our
rules!”

“Well, I’m going to church. You might be able to stop me from seeing your daughter out and about, but I’m going to go to church, and I’ll see her there. I’m sorry. I just can’t get over her, Mrs. Hayden. She’s important to me.”

She shook her head and turned around. As I watched her go back over to Emily, a sudden impulse to shout over to Emily crossed my mind. I withheld. In doing that action, I knew it would only bring Emily pain. I didn’t want her to suffer more than I already knew she was.

Later that evening, while I was on my final delivery at work, my phone buzzed. It was from an unknown number. The message was from Emily’s father, asking if I’d meet him for a late night cup of coffee at JJ’s diner over on 15
th
street. I thought it was a rather odd request, but I agreed to meet him. I had a bit of hope that maybe they had come to their senses about our relationship.

Getting to the diner, I scanned the nearly empty restaurant as I undid my scarf. I spotted Steve clutching a cup of coffee as he sat in a poorly lit booth over in an obscure corner. He looked as if he rolled out of bed and sneaked out of his own house to come meet with me. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and his hair was pushed up on one side of his head like he had been asleep earlier. Weaving between the tables, I came over to him. “Steve,” I said, as I slipped into the seat across from him.

He raised his eyes up to mine. He looked tired. Exhausted, as a matter of fact. “Kyle. Thanks for meeting me.” The strained words from his lips sent my hope crashing.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He rubbed the scruff on his chin, and then he pushed his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose. “It’s about the
why
.”

“The why?”

“Yeah. The
why
. You see, my wife doesn’t like the details, or getting into them, but I do. I like to understand
why
things are the way they are. What motivates people. You understand?”

“I get it.”

“Good.” He set his hands out on the table and began to use them as he continued. “You see, Patricia had a blind sister.”

“Had?” I replied.

“Yeah. Her sister died a few years ago. You see, this is what happened. Her sister, Gail, had a boyfriend at the time, and he left her at home by herself, and she started a fire by accident in the kitchen. She didn’t know where the extinguisher was, and she . . . she didn’t make it out.”

I relaxed into the booth. “Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry. That makes so much more sense now—why you’re so protective.”

He sniffed a little and took off his glasses. As he cleaned one of the lenses with the corner of his sleeve, he said, “That’s why we don’t want her to see you. I know you mentioned to Patricia that this could be her chance at love earlier today, but truly, you two are most likely not going to work out. You’re young.”

“So?” I said sharply as I sat straighter up and leaned in. “Why’s age matter?”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I think you get the overall picture here. We don’t want any trouble. Please just leave us and Emily alone.”

“I haven’t caused any trouble. I haven’t come to your house or bothered you at all.”

“But you mentioned you were going to come to church.”

“Yeah. Well, I am. It’s church, Steve . . .”

“There’s plenty of churches you can attend. You don’t need to come to ours.”

Slipping out of the booth, I stood up and looked at him. “You know, Steve, I get you wanting to protect your daughter. I even get the sad story about your sister in-law, but what I don’t get is that you, being a Christian, would push someone away from church. Pushing me away isn’t going to keep her safe forever. If it’s not for a chance at love, let it be for a chance at a life.” I shook my head. “Keeping your kids safe is important, especially with Emily’s situation . . . but someday you’ll have to let her jump from the nest.”

“Sir, did you want something to drink?” the waitress asked me as she came over to refill Steve’s coffee.

“No. I’m not staying.”

Leaving Steve at the table, I left the diner and headed home. There wasn’t any part of me that felt angry this time—just sadness. I felt bad for Emily’s parents in a way. They were so protective and worked up over her safety that they were suffocating not only her, but themselves.

The rest of the night, I spent my time reading the Scriptures and praying for her parents and God’s will over the situation. With my diminishing hope came a comfort that I knew was of a divine nature. Some would call what I was experiencing acceptance, but I called it trust in the Lord and His will.