Christmas in the Air (16 page)

J
ust over a month later, Sondra turned off Interstate 69 onto the maze of state roads and county roads leading her back to Destiny. Her chest ached with increasing anticipation as each mile brought her closer to town. Closer to David.

Just outside the town limits, she saw the first of the political signs that made her smile: Be Right—Vote Wright for Superior I Judge. She'd promised David she would make a return visit on his election day, even if she was an out-of-towner and couldn't vote for him. At least the late January weather had cooperated enough to make the journey north from Louisville pretty painless.

“Next time it's your turn to come to my stomping grounds, Mr. Wright,” she said to her car's interior. She and David had already agreed as much when he'd first asked her to come the day of the special judicial election. Until now he'd been too busy campaigning to have time for a social life. He had stiff competition in two
other local attorneys, both with more legal experience than he had.

More political signs, some for each of the three candidates, dotted the front yards as Sondra reached the center of town. She pulled into the parking lot of New Hope Church, where David had rented the hall for what he hoped would be a victory celebration.

As she climbed out of her car, her gaze went to the open field where their lean-to stable stage had once stood. The stable had still been in place when they'd stopped by during their momentous third real date on New Year's Eve to revisit the location of their unusual first meeting.

What a poignant night that had been, even if David had been more nervous than she'd ever seen him. But then he'd been traveling uncharted waters in his dating experience, so she'd cut him some slack. She'd been ambivalent herself that night, as it was her last evening in town.

She'd also expected that date to be their last.

“Well, look who's rolled out of the big city just to crash the voter polls in Destiny.”

The voice that she knew so well from their many phone conversations filtered up behind her, drawing her out of her nostalgia. She turned to see David approaching her.

Trying to ignore her quickening pulse at just the sight of him, she grinned. “I already voted for you three times under three identities. Is that enough?”

He quirked his head. “Just three?”

Instead of waiting for her to come up with another pithy comment, he rushed right up to her, wrapped her in his arms and lifted her, down parka and all, off the ground.

“You're a sight for sore eyes.”

“Why, are your eyes sore?”

“No, but my heart sure is.”

She blinked over his comment, but she didn't have time to analyze it because as soon as he'd let her feet touch the ground, he covered her mouth with his. The same sweet tremor, the burst of hope and joy that had wrapped itself around her heart the first time they'd kissed, returned with a vengeance. As she had every time she'd thought about it in the last few weeks, she wondered what she'd been afraid of.

After several seconds, she finally caught her breath. “Are you feeling confident about the election results?”

“I am now.” He pulled her close enough that they could touch foreheads.

“You mean you were questioning before? I don't believe it.” She'd never once questioned whether David would win the election or whether he belonged in Destiny. Her only uncertainties had been over whether, or even how, she would fit into his life.

“No, I've been sure of everything, especially after that great pep talk last night.”

“And the night before that and the night before that.” She laughed. “Good thing that you had that one-rate long-distance plan.”

The fact was they hadn't missed a single night of talking to each other since she'd driven out of Destiny
on the first of January, tears streaming down her face and her heart in her hands.

With one hundred and sixty miles between them, it had been easier for her to convince herself that their relationship was simply casual, a friendship really. But now that he was here in the flesh, the lie she'd been telling herself stood out like muddy footprints on a pristine, white carpet.

“Are you cold? We should get inside.” Even as he spoke, he flipped up her collar and zipped her coat to her chin. Then he gathered her to him again. “I'm not ready to share you yet.”

She closed her eyes and soaked in his warmth, his soap-fresh scent and the comfort of being encircled in his arms. Only after several seconds of bliss did the questions come. Share her? Did that mean he wanted her to be his alone? No, she had to be reading something into his words, was worrying unnecessarily when he hadn't asked her to give up a single thing for him. She was talking about David here. David, who'd dated more women than could crowd into that church hall. But none as many times as he'd been out with her.

Still, they'd had only three real dates that hadn't involved coercion, not nearly enough to constitute a relationship. It didn't matter that she could add to that number twenty-eight daily phone calls, some lasting long into the night. Nor could she let it count that sometimes she felt so connected to him that her arm might have reached out with his hand or her brain might have received messages with his eyes.

They had lives in two different states with careers that mattered to them and people who counted on them. Only someone without a survival instinct wouldn't have recognized that any long-distance relationship between them would be doomed.

They could date as friends and nothing more. She had to be smart. She had to do anything she could think of to keep herself from falling in love with him. But a sinking feeling inside her told her it was already too late.

 

David glanced around at his cheering friends and political supporters as he stood at the lectern. They wouldn't have to wait long into the night to know the election results after all. Early returns from the three largest voter precincts were so decisive that he could have declared victory an hour before, but he'd delayed out of respect for his worthy opponents.

Nothing could dampen his joy tonight, not even his parents' presence or the fact that his new job would earn them bragging rights with the country club set. He was the new Superior Court judge. He'd even won by a landslide. And if things went his way, the rest of his life would fall neatly into place before the night was over.

He raised his hands to quiet the applause. “Thank you for coming tonight. I appreciate all of you for your support, your friendship and most importantly, for today anyway, your votes.”

Getting the laugh he was hoping for, he pressed on, even if his palms were so sweaty that they kept slipping off the wood at the edge of the lectern. “Now that most
of the votes are in, the people have spoken, and all I can say is I am privileged and honored to serve as Cox County's newest Superior Court judge.”

Brock Chandler popped up on stage then, carrying Joy. Both of them sported “Be Right—Vote Wright” T-shirts, though Joy's covered her to her toes. “Let's hear it for Judge Wright.”

The small crowd erupted in cheers and applause that went on for so long that David started to fidget. He'd never been this nervous speaking before, even in front of a judge, prosecutor, a seated jury and a room packed with spectators. But then, though those other speeches had been important to him and critical to a client's freedom, he'd never had so much personally riding on his words.

“Hey, Judge Wright, can you fix my speeding ticket?” a voice on the far side of the room called out.

David jerked his head toward the sound to find Judge Hal Douglas relaxing in one of the room's few armchairs with a satisfied grin on his face. The heart attack that had caused him to retire early certainly hadn't taken any of the old codger's spunk.

“Sorry, wrong court—you know that. Besides, I won't be sworn in for three weeks. You'll have to take that one up with Deputy Chandler.”

“He gave me the ticket,” Hal called out.

“So quit it with the lead foot, Judge,” Brock responded.

All of the levity around him only made David more agitated. If he didn't speak up now, the perfect moment he'd planned would have passed him by. It might have taken him a lifetime, but he'd finally found the love
he'd always craved. Sondra was everything he could have wanted in a woman and more. All of his life, he had proceeded with caution, always kept up his guard to prevent an uppercut to the chin. But tonight of all nights, he no longer wanted to be cautious. He wanted to tell the world about the woman who'd stolen his heart.

He raised his hands to quiet the crowd again. It took several minutes, but finally the volume lowered a fraction.

“I know you've all been patient, but if you'll humor me just a moment longer, then you can spend the rest of the night enjoying all this good food and great company.”

He paused but only long enough to draw his breath and gather his courage. “If any of you haven't met her, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Sondra Stevens.” With a hand, he motioned toward her. “Sondra, could you please come up here?”

Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes went wide before she shook her head slightly and mouthed the word “no.”

David only grinned. “Come on, now. Don't be shy.” Then he turned back to audience members who were looking at him with odd expressions and beginning to whisper. “Everyone, Sondra needs a little encouragement.”

Applause broke out again, until a reluctant Sondra approached the lectern. When she reached him, David stepped down and took her hand. He tilted his head toward her. “This is Sondra. We met over a manger.”

A few “Hi, Sondra's” drifted from the crowd before its members became quiet. Expectant. Sondra looked so shocked and uncertain that he longed to take her in his
arms and tell her everything would be okay. It was too soon, though. The embrace would come in time, but he had to do this right.

“I have a little something I'd like to say to Sondra, if you all don't mind.”

A few chuckles broke the silence as he lowered to one knee. The color had drained from her face. He'd expected laughter from her, maybe even a few tears, but this reaction surprised him. That was okay. He had a lifetime to learn to anticipate her moods and reactions.

“Sondra Stevens, you've made me a changed man. You've shown me how happy my life can be.”

She held up her free hand and opened her mouth as if to interrupt him, but he shook his head.

“Please, just let me get this out before I explode.” He reached up and clasped her second hand. “I love you, Sondra. I didn't even realize I was capable of that, but it was before I met you.”

Her eyes flooded then. Now that was more the reaction he'd expected. It hadn't even hurt to say the words out loud that he'd been hiding for weeks in his heart, so he braced himself for the most important ones he would ever speak.

Releasing her hands, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and produced a tiny felt box. Inside was an emerald-cut solitaire diamond. “I want to build a life with you here in Destiny—to work with you, worship with you, raise children with you. Will you be my wife?”

 

Sondra lowered her gaze to the ground. Her eyes and her throat burned. She couldn't seem to get enough air
to stop the empty ache in her lungs. Tears she'd been fighting from the moment he'd called her up front spilled over her lower lids.

She couldn't look at him or the ring he offered because she might see the hope in his eyes. Then she would be lost. She wouldn't have the strength to deny him, even if it cost her.

“Are you okay?” David asked, perhaps for the first time realizing that all was not well.

She didn't even try to stop the tears anymore as they poured down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. Her chest heaved with the hopelessness that settled around her.

“What is it, Sondra?”

She could hear the concern, the fear in his voice, but she didn't reach out to help him. Couldn't.

David came up from his knee and set the box on the lectern. Though he rested his hands on her shoulders, his touch offered no comfort now.

He probably didn't realize that his offer was just like her father's when he'd asked her mother to let go of her life just to be a part of his. Would David also leave as her father had? Would she be like her mother, alone and bitter?

She was so confused. Her fears crowded in so close about her that she felt smothered by them. David wasn't like her father; she had to believe that. She wouldn't have loved him if he were. Obviously she didn't love him enough though to give up what she wanted for him. He deserved better. Maybe they both did.

Whispers in increasing volume brought her gaze up
from the floor. She only wished they didn't have an audience. Forcing herself, she finally met David's gaze. He was still waiting, though his stark expression showed his hope had deserted him.

“Sondra,” he began again, but she raised a hand to stop him.

Each word brought a fresh ache to her heart, but she made herself say them anyway.

“I'm sorry, David. I can't marry you.”

D
avid was brooding in his office again that Friday morning. He'd mastered the skill in the last three days since he'd been humiliated in front of most of Destiny. As uncomfortable as he'd often felt about his playboy reputation, it was far worse to know that the whole town knew for certain he was a loser at love.

A call from the law office's administrative assistant saying that he had a guest only annoyed him further. He hated that his pulse tripped at the possibility that Sondra might be the one waiting for him outside. Whether he liked it or not, she'd walked away from him, and she probably wasn't coming back.

Allison was standing outside his office door when he opened it.

“Hey, sweetie.” She stood on tiptoe to hug him and then stepped past him into the office. Without asking if he was busy, she lowered herself into the upholstered chair opposite his desk.

“Why don't you have a seat?” he grumbled as he returned behind his desk and sat.

“Thanks. I will.”

For once, David couldn't muster a smile for his best friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just at the obstetrician's.” She patted her softly rounded tummy. “I've gained nine whole pounds now.”

“That's great.”

She nodded, then frowned. “Are you doing okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because Sondra ripped your heart out in front of all your friends and neighbors?”

He brushed his hand through the air and dropped it back on the desk. “Oh, that. It wasn't a big deal.”

“Then why did everyone in this office warn me that I was entering a hazardous area by coming in here with you? And why do you look like you haven't slept in a week?”

David shook his head. “I've just been busy getting ready to turn my cases over to the partners before I leave the practice.”

“Don't deny that she hurt you, David. Not to me.”

He opened his mouth to produce another excuse, but then he clicked it shut. What was the point when his friend could see through him?

“I was wrong about her, that's all.”

“Wrong how?”

“To think I could put my trust in her. I know now why I'd never done that before.” He shook his head. “I won't make that mistake again.”

Allison leaned forward in her chair so that her elbows
touched his desk. “Did you think at all about what you were asking of her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I asked her to marry me.”

“No, it was more than that. In front of everyone, you asked the woman you said you loved to give up her career, her independence and the life she's made for herself.”

“I didn't realize—”

“You knew about her scars, and still you put her on the spot before an audience.”

David blinked. She was right. He had known, but it hadn't stopped him from making a fool of both of them. He shook his head at his ignorance.

“Here I was thinking I was making the big gesture, and I was just being a jerk.”

“Not a jerk exactly.” She paused for a few seconds, as if considering what he'd said, before she spoke again. “But there's something you might want to think about. Love isn't just about having someone to fulfill your need for companionship. It's about being the person that
she
needs. About putting her first.”

Having said what she'd intended to, Allison hugged him and left him alone to his brood. Only he couldn't work up the steam anymore. He'd been so selfish. He'd thought only of how loving Sondra could better his life when he should have been worried about how his love could improve hers.

Agape
. He remembered the Greek word for God's type of sacrificial love from church, but he'd never before seen how it could apply to his life. He understood
now, and he wanted to truly love Sondra, putting her hopes and dreams before his own.

But even love couldn't change the fact that he was tied to Cox County now, and her life was in Kentucky. The distance seemed an insurmountable obstacle between them. Was a compromise even possible, and if it was, then how could he find it?

But the realization struck him that the situation wasn't in his hands. It never had been.
Lord, I know You have all the answers here. If it's Your will for the two of us to be together, I know You'll show us the way. Amen.

David straightened at his desk, feeling confident for the first time since election night, probably even longer than that. It was a relief from the weight of the embarrassment and resentment he'd been carrying.

The experience of giving up control to God was going to take some getting used to, even if any result had to be better than the mess he'd created all by himself. Still, there had to be something he could do in the meanwhile, instead of simply sitting on his hands. Finally, after all this time, he had an idea that might make a difference.

Of course, God would be in charge from kickoff to the final minute, but the Father probably wouldn't mind if he gave a little help from the sidelines. The idea probably had originated from above, anyway, and he was taking credit for it.

No matter its source, at least his plan gave him something to focus on besides missing Sondra. His energy would have to be divided in three ways, though. The first part would go to prayer, an activity he planned to be
come an expert in during the next few weeks. The second would go to setting a plan into action. Last, but far from least, he would concentrate on doing something he should have done all along—becoming the kind of man Sondra deserved.

 

Sondra closed the door to her apartment and flipped on the lights, immediately shrugging out of her suit jacket and kicking off her heels. The flat eggshell walls and neutral décor that she used to find so clean and unencumbered mocked her now, just like the comfort she'd once taken in the anonymity of the city.

Trying to ignore the way the apartment's walls closed in about her, she padded into her bedroom to trade the rest of her work clothes for comfortable sweats. If only she could shake off her malaise inside as easily, because it felt as if nothing could comfort her heart since she'd walked out of David's life.

She didn't have to ask herself how much time had passed since she'd made what might have been the biggest mistake of her life. A clock marking the time elapsed—just two hours short of twenty days now—seemed to have been implanted in her mind. The same way David had imbedded himself in her heart.

As Sondra pulled her favorite Kentucky Wildcats sweatshirt over her head, she wondered what David was doing right then. Did he feel as lonely in his huge warehouse apartment as she did in her tiny flat? No, she would never wish that kind of aloneness on him, or anyone for that matter. She preferred to think of him cele
brating tonight with friends before tomorrow's swearing-in ceremony.

Still, when the phone rang, her pulse leaped and again she hoped. Why he would bother calling now, she wasn't even sure. He'd proposed, even if his offer had been unconventional. She was the one who'd said no.

“Hello?” She hoped whoever was on the other end of the line couldn't hear the desperation in her voice.

“Are you finally home from work? Any reason you were there late again?” Jane Stevens never bothered with formal greetings since she spoke to her daughter regularly.

“Hi, Mom. Just paperwork due before that QS 9000 certification inspection.”

“It's always something, isn't it? Are you okay?”

Her answer was automatic and at least as honest as Sondra had been with herself lately. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

She held her breath, hoping they could drop the subject this time. Discussing her broken heart with her mother just didn't feel right. Sure, Jane could relate, but her bitterness felt toxic.
You see, men are all the same.
Her mother's words still rang in Sondra's ears, yet they didn't ring true. David wasn't the same. He couldn't be.

Her mother made a scoffing sound into the phone, and Sondra braced herself.

“Honey, you're not fine. You're not fine at all.”

She couldn't listen to it, couldn't bear to hear “I told you so” again. “Mom—”

“And it's all my fault,” Jane continued.

Sondra started. “What…what are you saying?”

“I was wrong.” An audible sigh came through the phone line. “I was hurt, but I've hurt you most of all.”

“No, Mom, it was Dad. He hurt us.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. You can't base decisions about your life on our mistakes—your father's and mine.”

Sondra was tempted to argue, to defend her mother's honor, but something stopped her. Maybe her mother was ready to let some of her anger go.

“Marriage is about giving and taking, about loving even on days when your spouse is unlovable. If only I had trusted God with the situation, things might have been different.”

Sondra had to disagree this time. “You can't hold yourself responsible for his desertion, his infidelity.”

“I couldn't forgive. I taught my own daughter not to trust people. I became a bitter, lonely woman.”

“You loved me, Mom. You raised me the best you could, all by yourself.”

Again Jane's breathing was audible. Resigned. “Do you love him, Sondra?”

She didn't even hesitate. “Yes. I love him.”

“Then don't close the door so easily. Don't be alone…like me.”

Jane said nothing for several seconds, and when she did speak, her voice sounded gravelly, as if she were crying. In all her life, Sondra had never seen her mother cry, even in the days after her father had left. Jane had only remained stoic and icy cold.

“Please, please put the situation in God's hands,” Jane told her.

Sondra barely heard the other things her mother said before Jane ended the call. As if her thoughts hadn't been muddled enough since the election-night fiasco when she'd rushed back to Louisville and tried to bury her hurt in her work.

She couldn't imagine a more unlikely source for relationship advice, but her mother was there giving it. That was only one of the contradictions she was beginning to recognize in her life. Another was her career. Had power in the corporate world ever really been her dream, or had her career only been a safe haven from real world personal relationships? She wasn't sure.

And did she even want to
have it all
in terms of job titles and prestige and to
have nothing
when she returned home at night?

Sondra didn't have to ask herself that question twice. No, she didn't want that. She wanted a life that was filled with smiles and laughter, with faith and love. And she wanted all those things with David.

Before she realized what she was doing, she was throwing clothes and cosmetics in a bag. She would have to call into work from the road, but that wouldn't be a problem since she had plenty of flextime available from all her overtime work lately.

She wasn't sure what would happen when she reached Indiana or even whether David had changed his mind about her. He hadn't called, but then neither had she. Still, she had to go, had to follow God's urging and her heart. For her, it seemed that all roads led back to David and to her Destiny.