Stay With Me (26 page)

They sat inside and talked with his mom and dad for
more than an hour, and he could tell Rebecca was uncomfortable at first by the
way she sat ramrod straight and gave terse answers, but before long she had
relaxed. His mom, in particular, had seemed to gain a new respect and deeper
affection for Rebecca after she’d stayed with him faithfully in the hospital.
He hoped it had assuaged any lingering concerns she had about Rebecca being a
flight risk. Those days were over. She had found a peace that would keep her
anchored to God and, he hoped, to him.

He walked her out to her car where he sat with her
while they said goodnight.

“I had a wonderful evening. Dinner was delicious,
and I liked looking at the stars with you.” She laughed, and he did, too,
knowing there had been little stargazing.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if maybe I was a little too
aggressive tonight.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It felt right.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “I just…I
don’t want to put us in the ‘occasion of sin,’ as they call it.”

A trace of guilt nagged his conscience. They
had
already crossed that line.

“I trust us,” Rebecca said. “We’re not teenagers,
and this isn’t our first date. I know we wouldn’t have let it go any farther.”

“No, I don’t think we would have. It’s just…well,
when I converted and started learning right from wrong about a lot of things
for the first time, I had some bad habits to break. I don’t want to stir up
things that create too much temptation for me or for us. I don’t want to get in
the habit of thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t.”

He took hold of her hand, and they interlocked
their fingers. He hoped she understood. He didn’t want to say it out loud.
Masturbation was an ugly-sounding word. Thankfully, she seemed to get his
meaning. He expected her to minimize the issue or quickly change subjects, but
she smiled.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I admire you so much.” The squeeze she gave his
hand comforted him.

“I admitted how weak I am, and you admire me?”

“You admitted you’re human. And you showed me your
heart.”

“How can I not show you? It belongs to you.”

Her eyes grew watery. “That’s sweet.” She ran a
finger along his sideburn and down his cheek. “I didn’t get to tell you
everything I wanted to tonight before you smothered me. There was one more thing.”
She grinned and her eyes cleared.

“I’m listening now. No smothering.”

She reached into the back seat and retrieved a
small stack of books, which she placed in his lap. “I’m returning your books,
but I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you could help me. I want to become
Catholic, and I don’t know how.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” She giggled.

They hadn’t even discussed it. Sure, she had taken
his books, and they’d had some interesting conversations, but he didn’t realize
she was even thinking along those lines. “Why?”

“Why?” she echoed.

“Yes, why? Is it because of something you read or
something you felt or is it because of me?” If she was doing it just to please
him, it wasn’t likely to last. He wanted her to want it for herself, to feel that
God was calling her to it.

That’s how it had been for him. What the Church
taught about marriage and family appealed to him — it rang true. Despite its
unpopularity, it drew him in. He studied various religions, but ultimately he
felt
called
to become Catholic.

“All of the above,” she said. “The reading has done
a good job convincing my head, and you’ve done a good job on my heart. Even
from the first time I went to Mass with you, and I hadn’t a clue what was going
on, I felt this sense of being at home. I didn’t quite understand it like that
at the time, but…” She laid a hand on top of his and squeezed. “It’s where I
belong, which not-so coincidentally, is with you.”

That was good enough for him. She’d just mowed over
the last roadblock in his heart.

21

Build You A House

“I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. If the
waitress comes, would you order me a root beer, please?”

Rebecca kissed Chris’s cheek, and he and Father
John took their seats as she headed for the rest rooms. They had told Father John
after Mass about Rebecca’s decision to convert, and he had insisted on taking
them out to lunch to celebrate.

“You two aren’t going to be so sickeningly sweet
that I’m going to need a root canal?”

Chris grinned. “Maybe. We’re pretty stinkin’
happy.”

Father John smiled, too. “Good. So, how was your
date last night?”

“Excellent. I served Rebecca dinner at my parents’
house, and then we sat on a blanket in the backyard for some stargazing.”

“So that’s what the kids are calling it these
days.” Father John grabbed the menus from where they were leaning behind the
ketchup bottle and handed Chris two.

“That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Hey, can
I ask you something quick before Rebecca gets back?”

“Shoot.”

Rebecca was nowhere in sight, but Chris lowered his
voice anyway. “I’m going to ask Rebecca to marry me.”

“I thought that might be happening soon. Good for
you. When are you going to ask her?”

“I’m not sure yet, but there’s something I’d like
your opinion on. I asked Alan, but I don’t know if I agree with him.”

“Uh, marriage proposals aren’t my area of
expertise, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“It’s not that.  I’d never given it a whole lot of
thought, but I always figured that when I asked a girl to marry me, I’d ask for
her father’s blessing first. I don’t even have a relationship with Rebecca’s
dad. Frankly, I can’t stand him, and I don’t think I’m overstating things by
saying he hates me. My first inclination was to bypass him completely, but then
I thought maybe I could engender some good feelings between us by asking.”

Father John stared a couple seconds, tapping his
fingers lightly on the menu. “No. Don’t ask him. It’s a nice enough custom if
you want to ingratiate yourself with your future father-in-law, but I wouldn’t
put it past him to withhold his blessing. Then you’re in the position of
defying him, which would make matters worse, not better.”

“Alan said the same thing. I guess I’m trying to
hold onto the hope that he might reconsider his opinion of me.”

“Here’s the other thing. If this guy is abusive,
you don’t want him to think he has more power than he does. Rebecca is a grown
woman. It’s her decision to marry you or not. He has no say in the matter.
Don’t let him think he does. He’s her dad, and he can offer her counsel, for
whatever that’s worth, but that’s about it.”

“Okay. I agree. It’s between me and her. Thank
you.”

“Glad to help.”

Rebecca walked back to the table, and Chris rose to
let her slide into the booth next to him. “Miss me?”

“Always.” Chris swung his arm around her shoulders
and pulled her closer to him.

Father John rolled his eyes. “I’ve got my dentist
on speed dial.”

Chris laughed.

“Your dentist?”  Rebecca’s eyes darted back and
forth between them.

“Never mind,” Chris and Father John answered in
unison.

“I think for Father John’s sake we might want to
dial down the syrupy sweetness a notch.”

“If I remember correctly, Father John, you actually
had a thing for sweets. I seem to remember you with an ever-present package of
Swedish Fish on you.”

Father John smiled. “That was that summer, huh? I
do still like those.”

“Good to know.” Rebecca smiled and then stopped as
she listened intently to the music coming from the overhead speaker. “This
song—is it Dave Matthews?”

Father John listened to a few bars. “Isn’t this one
of those American Idol guys? He had one of those redundant names. Chuck Charles
or William Williams?”

Chris laughed. “Phillip Phillips. He’s been
compared to Dave Matthews a lot.” He turned to Rebecca and patted her leg.
“You’re getting warmer.”

Finally the waitress arrived and took their orders
for drinks and lunch.

“Hey, Father John, how did it turn out with that
tough decision you were telling me about?” Chris didn’t want to say too much
since he didn’t know how much Father John would want to share with Rebecca. The
last time they had spoken it had seemed like it was weighing heavily on him,
and he didn’t want Father John to think he had forgotten.

“Hmmm? Oh—that.” He looked at Rebecca and explained
in a way that wouldn’t exclude her from the conversation. “I had someone come
to me for pastoral counseling, but what she really needed was professional
counseling.” He turned to Chris. “I steered her in the right direction.”

It seemed like an awfully pat answer to a problem
that vexed him and had him philosophizing about the nature of right and wrong.
Before Chris could follow it up with a question, Father John changed the
subject.

“So, I’ve been charged with doing the preliminary
interviews for a new youth minister. What do you think I should be looking
for?”

And just like that they were on to something else.
Either he had worked it all out, or he didn’t want to talk about it. If Chris
had to guess, he’d say it was the latter.

***

The fall weather had been perfect for day hikes,
and that’s what Rebecca and Chris had been doing every Saturday for the past
month. Chris knew where all the good trails were, and they had hiked through
Saint Anthony’s Wilderness, a couple of state parks, and even some sections of
the Appalachian Trail. After a few rugged climbs, Rebecca realized falling in
love with Chris had the unexpected result of getting her in the best shape of
her life.

To her surprise, Chris had sold his newly-repaired
motorcycle several weeks earlier, so the time they would have spent on the back
of his bike cruising two-lane roads along corn fields and apple orchards was
freed up for hiking. Today’s hike had a steep incline with a series of
switchbacks that Chris promised would pay off with a spectacular view of the
Susquehanna River north of Harrisburg.

He wasn’t lying.

When they reached the top, Rebecca flopped onto a
big, cold rock and stared out at the wide, shallow river as it snaked through
the valley. Tiny islands dotted the center of the river, and mild riffles
created small patches of white in the green water. Jagged rocks jutted from the
shores. The trees covering the mountain on the western side of the river were
magnificent in their fall brilliance. Reds, oranges, and yellows melded into a
pageantry of all that was autumn. As if it knew it couldn’t compete with the
trees’ opulent display, the sky filled with bleak, billowing clouds
characteristic of November, a patch of denim-colored sky exposed here and
there. Rebecca inhaled the musty fragrance of decaying leaves and savored the
unique bittersweet beauty that was fall.

She pulled her water bottle out of her small pack
and drank half of it in seconds. Chris took a seat next to her as she pulled
her legs up in front of her on the rock. He bumped her playfully with his
shoulder. Well, she assumed he meant to be playful, but it left her teetering
on the edge of the rock and putting a hand out for balance.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said, bumping him back. It didn’t have
the same effect. He didn’t budge. She raised her water bottle to her lips as
she continued to look out over the river.

“Will you marry me?”

She did a spit take, coughing and sputtering as
Chris’s palm smacked her firmly on the back. “You okay?”

Rebecca nodded and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.
He had her full attention now. “Come again?”

His eyes weren’t kidding; they were dead serious,
and he stretched a hand out and stroked her cheek.

“Will you be my wife?” Seconds passed. His voice
grew softer. “Bear my children?” More seconds, and this time his voice cracked.
“Grow old with me?”

Blinking slowly, she stared. If he was trying to
surprise her, he had succeeded. “How can you be so nonchalant?”

He withdrew his hand and rubbed it on his pants.
“Is that how it’s coming off? Because I’m dying inside.”

After a few seconds to process what was happening,
she recognized his apprehension. His brows knit in worry and his eyes searched
her face, looking for some indication of which way this was going to go. “If
you need some time to think about it . . .”

Her answer tumbled out over his words. “No.”

His expression didn’t change. “No, you don’t need
time to think or no, you won’t marry me?”

Poor Chris. She needed to think straight and make
sense. “No, I don’t need time. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He relaxed his posture and let out a breath. He
smiled at her then, enough for his dimples to show. “Let’s make it official.”

He slid off the rock and dug in his pants pocket,
then knelt on one knee in front of her. Taking her left hand, he slid a white
gold band with a huge princess cut diamond onto her ring finger. She covered her
mouth with her free hand as she continued to stare at the ring that was so
obviously bigger than his salary would allow.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, but it must have cost—”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head as he took a seat beside
her on the rock again. “It’s taken care of, and I’m not bringing debt into our
marriage.”

Our marriage.
Her heart skipped.
“But Chris—”

It dawned on her then—the only way he could come up
with the cash. “You sold your motorcycle for this ring.” He didn’t deny it, and
she knew it was true. “You loved that bike.”

He shook his head again. “I love you.” He slid his
hand along her neck, behind her ear and wound his fingers through her hair.

She closed the small distance between them and
kissed her fiancé for the first time. After a couple of minutes, the fiery kiss
that started to burn out of control was interrupted by a “Who Let the Dogs Out”
ringtone in the distance followed by the sounds of boys’ laughter. Chris ended
the kiss and looked behind them.

“Cub scouts,” he grumbled. “I know their motto is
‘be prepared,’ but I doubt they have a contingency for finding a couple making
out at their hiking vista.”

“Probably not.” Rebecca grabbed her bottle that had
rolled to the ground and stuffed it into her pack. It didn’t matter if they headed
back down. Whatever the elevation, she knew her head would be in the clouds for
days, maybe weeks.

Eight boys in matching orange tee shirts mounted
the summit and streamed around the large rock, exclaiming at the view. As Chris
and Rebecca vacated the boulder, the boys climbed atop it and hurled small
rocks and twigs ahead of them over the mountainside. A couple of
haggard-looking middle-aged guys finally caught up with the boys, quickly
dropping their packs and their bottoms onto a log. The boys discussed which
bones were likely to break if a person fell from the overlook onto the ledge.
One of them pointed skyward and yelled, “Look—it’s a bald eagle.”

Rebecca thought they had most likely mistaken a
red-tailed hawk for an eagle, but sure enough, a bald eagle circled the sky
above them.

Chris adjusted his pack at the shoulders. “
That
is cool,” he said in her ear.

“Maybe it’s an omen.”

“About what?”

He nuzzled her neck, and she had trouble thinking.
“Our marriage.”

“Well, it symbolizes courage, strength, faith in
God. I guess we’ll need all those things.”

Before she could respond, a small voice said,
“Lady, your boot is untied.”

A boy about Ricky’s age, thin and tow-headed,
pointed at her boot.

“Oh, thank you.” She stepped out from under Chris’s
arm and walked over to a small rock where she could prop her foot while she
re-tied her laces. It took her three tries because she kept being distracted by
the rock on her ring finger sparkling in a sunbeam that poked through the trees
behind her.

Chris spoke to another boy a couple of yards away
just loud enough for her to overhear.

“See that pretty girl over there tying her boot? I
just asked her to marry me.”

“Did she say yes?”

“She did.” She could feel the happiness radiating
from him when he said it, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“Are you going to kiss her?”

Rebecca glanced over and saw the boy looking up at
Chris. The boy scrunched up his face as if it were the most repulsive idea
imaginable.

“She might have cooties. Should I?” Chris darted a
look her way and winked.

“Yeah!” So much for the revulsion; his head bobbed
up and down and his little face lit.

“Is that a dare?” Chris asked.

“Yeah.
Double
-dare.”