Lessons Learned (6 page)

Tommy was already standing and looking forlornly toward the living room.

“Football,” Aubrey muttered, rolling her eyes. She lifted the baby into her arms. “We’ll be right back.”

“But it’s the Colts . . .” Tommy’s voice faded as he followed her down the hallway, leaving Lucas and I alone at the kitchen table.

“Isn’t it a little early for football?” Granted, I wasn’t a sports fanatic, but football was typically on television in the fall, and we were still in the middle of August.

“It’s a preseason game.”

“Oh.” I nodded, as if this made perfect sense.

“Speaking of football, Tommy is going to bring some of his players over on Monday. He thinks with their help, we can probably get the house painted in a couple of days.”

This was great news, although it definitely meant another trip to the store to restock the fridge. I didn’t know much about football players, but I had a feeling they liked to eat.

“That’s nice of them, but I think they just want the free food,” I teased.

“I can’t blame them. The food’s great.” Lucas grinned at me, leaning a little closer. “He also invited me to church tomorrow at Sycamore Baptist. Everything in this town is Sycamore something . . .”

I laughed.

“Yeah, we aren’t really creative with the names. Are you going?”

He nodded thoughtfully.  “I think so. Everyone has been so welcoming to me, and I’ve been invited many times. It seems like I should make an effort, you know?”

“I can understand that, yeah.”

“What’s it like?”

“Church? I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been inside Sycamore Baptist since my grandma’s funeral, but I imagine it’s the same. Very traditional, a lot of shouting . . .”

He looked puzzled. “Shouting?”

“It can get very . . . spirited.” I smiled at him. “You’ll see.”

“You could come with me.”

It wasn’t the first church invitation I’d received, but it was the first time I actually felt guilty for saying no. Just because I’d found some peace with religion didn’t mean I was ready to sit in a pew.

“I don’t think I’m ready, Lucas.”

Just then, Tommy and Aubrey reappeared, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Lucas offered me a gentle smile before following Tommy into the living room, and I joined Audrey over at the sink.

“Now, aren’t you glad you came?” Aubrey asked with a mischievous grin.

“It was fun,” I admitted, smiling as she handed me a hand towel. “Tommy hasn’t changed a bit, and Daniel is adorable.”

“Lucas is pretty adorable, too.”

I shot her a glare.

“Come on, you can’t tell me seeing him with a baby didn’t make your heart beat just a little faster. I know it did, because there is nothing sexier than a man who is good with kids.”

I said nothing, which was a mistake because, in my silence, she had her answer.

“I knew it,” she sang triumphantly.

“Aubrey, this little matchmaking scheme of yours isn’t going to work.”

“It might work. You should have seen his face when you were holding Daniel.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I know what I saw,” Aubrey said, handing me a plate to rinse. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“I am not having this discussion with you.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I snapped. “Maybe because I’ve known the man for exactly one week?”

An uneasy silence settled between us while we finished the dishes.

“Okay, it’s a little soon to be talking babies,” she agreed.

“Thank you.”

“But can I just say one thing?”

Defeated, I tossed the towel onto the counter and nodded for her to continue.

“Ten years ago, I lost my best friend.”

My heart sank.

“Aubrey, I—”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I don’t want an apology. It’s not necessary, and you’re already forgiven. You’ve
always
been forgiven. The only reason I’m mentioning it now is because I don’t want you to make the same mistake when you’re trying so hard to make a fresh start. Don’t be afraid to let people into your new life.”

I blinked back my tears and pulled her into a hug.

“I missed you, Aubrey.”

“I missed you, too.” Sniffling quietly, she pulled away and smiled brightly through her own tears. “But we aren’t going to be sad anymore. You’re home now. It’s a new life, with a new job and a new house . . .”

“And new friends,” I said softly just as Lucas appeared in the doorway.

“Aubrey, I’m headed home. Thanks for dinner.”

“I should go, too.” I gave her a hug and thanked her for having me before grabbing my coat from the kitchen table. “Next time, I’m cooking.”

Aubrey smiled. “Deal.”

As Lucas walked out onto the porch, she placed a container full of leftovers into my hand.

She winked. “For tomorrow. You know, just in case you have company after he gets out of church.”

She always did have ears like a hawk.

“Aubrey, we’re just—”

“I know, I know,” she smiled at me and pushed me out the door. “You’re just friends. Call me!”

She slammed the door in my face.

I shook my head in exasperation before turning around. Lucas was waiting at the bottom of the steps.

“Stop smiling.”

“I’m not smiling.” He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes as we walked to our cars. “Okay, I’m smiling a little. They weren’t subtle at all, were they?”

“You
knew
?”

I was mortified.

“I didn’t at first, but then you walked in.” Lucas grinned and leaned against my car. “Not that I minded.”

How awkward was this?

Lucas opened my door for me, and I gently placed the leftovers on the passenger seat before sliding in behind the wheel. Once he closed the door, I rolled down my window.

“Since she went to all the trouble to pack the leftovers, you’re more than welcome to stop by after church if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.”

“And I’m really sorry about tonight.” It was vital he understood that I had nothing to do with the matchmaking ambush.

Lucas leaned his elbows against my window, peering inside.

“I’m not,” he whispered.

Even in the darkness, his eyes were shimmering blue and completely sincere.

I had no idea what to say, so I mumbled goodnight and quickly drove away, feeling a little excited and more confused than ever.

Chapter 5

“You should visit during your fall break,” Monica said. “Memphis misses you.”

I cradled my cell close to my ear while checking the leftovers in the oven. “There are more than half a million people in the city. I doubt I’m missed too much.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I think Ryan misses you.”

“Impressive. I could just
barely
detect the contempt in your voice when you said his name.”

“You know he’s never been my favorite person,” she muttered, “but he does ask about you whenever I have the great misfortune of running into him.”

I stiffened. I didn’t want Ryan asking about me.

“What do you tell him?”

“I tell him you’re unbelievably happy and he should move on with his dull and boring life.”

Harsh, but effective.

As she continued to ramble, I nervously glanced at the clock. It was just after twelve, and while you were never quite sure how long a Sunday morning sermon might last, chances were good the rumbling stomachs of the congregation would encourage the preacher to move it along.

“I’m sure Ryan is much happier without me,” I said diplomatically. After all, I didn’t have an excuse to be bitter. I left
him
. “He’ll meet someone wonderful. Someone who can be everything he needs.”

“He’s dating someone.  I saw them together at a club a few nights ago.”

“That didn’t take long.” I didn’t feel a bit of resentment, though. I’d put him through hell, and he deserved to be happy.

“You were too good for him, anyway.”

I laughed. Monica was loyal to a fault.

“I’m just saying there’s only one you. I miss my girl.”

“I miss you, too, Moni.”

Monica boldly stood by my side when I’d returned to Sycamore Falls two years ago to lay my grandma to rest. Being the only African American woman in the church—not to mention in the county—it had been impossible for my friend merely to fade into the background. To them, she was different, but Monica hadn’t taken it personally. In my eulogy, I’d told the sweet people of my hometown that my grandmother was my hero because she’d encouraged me to view the world with open eyes and an open heart.

Monica was a true friend. For me, she’d driven the seven hours from Memphis and endured the curious glances and the hushed whispers of the people in my hometown. When I’d graduated with my teaching degree, she’d cautioned me about taking the job at the high school because it was a rough school with even rougher kids. I should have listened, but I’d been too wide-eyed and determined to make a difference in the world.

“So what are you doing today?”

I anxiously checked the clock.

“I’m having a friend over for lunch.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Lucas and I were friends. “What about you?”

Monica sighed tiredly. “I have papers to grade. Remind me never to teach summer session again.”

I gasped as the sound of crunching gravel echoed from the driveway. Promising to call later next week, we said our goodbyes and I rushed to the stove, grabbing a mitt and pulling the steaming casserole out of the oven.

I’d been expecting it, but the knock on the door still made me jump.

“Come on in!”

Lucas walked through the door, dressed in a dark suit and tie, and I nearly dropped the dish onto the floor.

“Hi,” I managed to squeak while carefully placing the food on the counter.

“Hey.” His sigh was weary as he collapsed into the nearest chair.

“Are you okay?”

He looked bewildered.

“I thought church was supposed to be a calming place,” Lucas murmured. “There was nothing calm about
that
.”

I laughed loudly and grabbed some plates from the cabinet.

“Some Baptist churches are livelier than others, I think. I attended one with my friend Monica back in Memphis, and hers was a little calmer—or at least it was until the choir began to sing. I didn’t mind that so much, though, because the music was fantastic.”

“When we did go to church—which wasn’t very often—we attended St. Teresa’s,” Lucas explained, loosening his tie. “Everything was very regimented and methodical. This was—”

“Loud?”

“
So
loud,” he whispered, rubbing his fingertips along his temples. “Everyone was friendly, but I’m not sure I’ll ever go back.”

“One of the great things about living in America is you don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.” I pointed toward the dish. “It’s probably still too hot, but help yourself. I’ll find something for your headache.”

After four aspirin and three plates of turkey casserole, Lucas was feeling much better. He’d even found some positive things to say about the church service.

“The sermon was nice. It was all about loving your neighbor. The message was good. I just wasn’t expecting the commotion that erupted.”

“I remember those spirited commotions,” I replied.

“It comes from a sincere place. It’s just how they worship. For most of them, it’s the only way they know
how
to worship.”

His face grew thoughtful as he considered that.

“More?” I nodded toward the nearly empty casserole. He groaned in appreciation and shook his head. “Okay, let’s go into the living room. There’s something I want to show you.”

Following close behind me, I led him over to the piano. Once we were seated, I smiled at him and pressed my foot against the pedals.

I took a deep breath and began to play the opening bars to “Amazing Grace.”

“You got it tuned!” Lucas smiled, his blue eyes shining.

I nodded and continued to play, and more than once, I heard him sigh softly.

“See,
that
was calming,” Lucas said quietly when I finished. “They didn’t play ‘Amazing Grace’ today.”

“Maybe they’ll play it next time. You’ll never know unless you go back.”

“I’ll consider it, on one condition.”

I knew what was coming.

“What’s that?”

“You go with me.”

We smiled at each other until I turned my attention back to the keys.

“I’ll think about it.”

We sat on the piano bench for the next hour, me playing softly while he talked about his family. His parents still lived in Manhattan and worked in real estate. Lucas’s voice was warm as he talked about his parents, and how they’d instilled within him the desire to work hard while making the most of his opportunities.  He was an only child, and it was clear he’d grown up with every imaginable luxury.

“Why would you leave all of it behind?” I wondered aloud. I felt him stiffen, and I immediately regretted my words. “I’m sorry. It’s truly none of my business. I just can’t imagine why someone like you would move to a place like this.”

His eyes were wounded. “Someone like me? You mean someone with money? I’m not a snob, Sarah.”