Stay With Me (3 page)

“I want to ask you something. I know we’ve only
been on a couple dates, so I understand if you want to pass on this. No hard
feelings. I don’t have a date for Alan’s wedding. Since you’ve never been to a
wedding and all, would you like to go with me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. That was good.

Movement in the distance drew his attention. Alan
walked toward them. Geez, the guy lacked patience.

“Hey, Chris,” Alan said, “Have a good trip. I’ve
got to go. I’m heading out of town, too.” Then to Rebecca he said, “It was nice
meeting you.”

Rebecca returned the sentiment, and Alan turned to
leave.

“Where are you headed?”  Chris called.

“Going to see Dave Matthews in Maryland tonight,”
he yelled over his shoulder before heading to his car.

Chris took hold of Rebecca’s hand, and walked back
toward the driveway. Alan better not have run off with his muffins. “Alan
follows Dave Matthews all over the country.”

“Who’s Dave Matthews?”

She never heard of the Dave Matthews Band? They’d
been around forever. “You know, ’Tripping Billies,’ ‘Dancing Nancies,’ ‘Ants
Marching’?”

She arched her brow a bit, squinted, and shook her
head. Negative. Did this poor girl live in a cave?

“Well, they’re a rock’n’roll band. They have a big
following. Lots of people, like Alan, travel all over for their concerts.
They’re known for their live shows. I’ll have to play one of their songs for
you some time. You’ve probably heard them and don’t know it.” The look on her
face made him doubt his last statement.

“Maybe. I don’t listen to music much, but when I do
it’s usually contemporary Christian. Sometimes a little bit of country. Or
‘new’ country I guess they call it.”

They made it back to her car, and Chris was
relieved to see the muffins were still alongside his motorcycle where he had
left them. Alan had better not have taken any more than the couple he snagged
when Rebecca first arrived.

“See you later.” He gave her a quick kiss on the
cheek. After she left, he texted Alan.

Plus one. Rebecca Rhodes.

His phone buzzed with Alan’s response.

Atta boy.

Tucking his phone in his pocket, Chris ambled up
the driveway and entered his parents’ house through the garage, hoping to snag
a bottle of water before he left. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed some
spring water from the bottom of the door.

“Hey, honey, who was that out there?”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek to keep from
grinning. Mom didn’t miss a thing. She had probably been watching him and
Rebecca the whole time.

He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink of water
as he closed the refrigerator door. “Rebecca Rhodes. We’ve gone on a couple of
dates. She brought me some muffins she baked last night.”

“Oh, how nice.” She straightened the napkins in
their holder on the counter as an obvious pretense for being in the kitchen.
“She likes to bake?”

“Yeah, she does. She’s good at it, too.” He waited
for the next question. There
would
be another.

“So, where did you meet?”

“Rieser’s Market.” He capped the bottle and leaned
against the counter. It would be easy to get irritated with her questions, but
he reminded himself that she only asked because she cared. The older he got and
the more people he met, the more he realized how lucky—no, how blessed—he and
Alan were. Their parents had been married nearly three decades.

Mom had a strong will and a short temper, and he’d
witnessed plenty of arguments between her and Dad over the years, but just as
many heartfelt apologies. Mom and Dad were still very much in love, and his mom
wanted that lasting love for her sons.

“When do I get to meet her?” Mom pushed the napkins
aside and slid her glasses up into her short hair as she focused on him.

At least he had a firm answer for her. “At Alan’s
wedding. She just agreed to be my date.”

The look of satisfaction on his mother’s face amused
him. He crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. I’m
doing an overnight at Shenandoah. I’ll see you when I get back.”

She pulled him into a hug. “I’ll be here assembling
table centerpieces. Be careful on that death machine.”

Ah, the obligatory swipe at the motorcycle. Now the
conversation was complete. “Goodbye, Mom.”

***

Chris assembled his backpacking tent in about five
minutes. After putting the rest of his belongings in the bear-proof metal box
at his campsite, he tightened the laces on his hiking boots and pored over a
park map deciding on a hike that would keep him away from the campground most
of the day. He settled on a circuit hike that would take him past a couple of
old family cemeteries and the remains of a small logging village.

Returning to the campground late in the evening, he
grilled some hot dogs he had picked up at the camp store and warmed a can of
chili over the fire. Grilling made even the off-brand wieners savory, but the
chili was bland with chewy bits of mystery meat that sat in his belly like a
brick. Although still early, Chris was ready to call it a night after all the
day’s exertion. He leaned back in his camp chair and enjoyed the fire while
watching the campers around him.

On his right, two young children blew bubbles while
their parents grilled dinner. Farther down the hill from them, a middle-aged
couple and a teenager gathered around a picnic table playing a card game.
Directly downhill from him, a young couple about his age or a few years older
talked and laughed. The woman sat on the man’s lap, and his arms encircled her.
To his left, a large, Mennonite family prepared their dinner. Their constant
chatter punctuated with laughter made Chris smile.

Loneliness was something he’d never experienced
before while camping. He nearly always camped alone. He had gone with some
buddies a few times, but those were exceptions, not the rule. In fact, he
preferred to go alone. The peace, the solitude, and being outside refreshed and
invigorated him. For the first time, he didn’t relish the solitude. It felt
somehow deficient.

Gazing at the lovey-dovey couple still wrapped up
in each other's arms, he wondered if Rebecca liked the outdoors. He imagined
her sitting in the firelight with him, her hair shining as the flames lit her
face. What would it be like to sit here with Rebecca, talking and relaxing?

He inhaled the scent of burning campfires and
grilled hamburgers and read through
Day and Overnight Hikes in Shenandoah
National Park
until his eyes grew tired. The sun hadn’t completely set, but
as he watched the couple down the hill retire to their tent, the woman pulling
the man by the hand, he thought going to bed might not be a bad idea.

A pair of birds rustling in the leaves woke him at
dawn. After a couple of protein bars, juice, and some coffee he picked up at
the lodge, he packed his gear and set out on a short summit hike before loading
everything back on his bike and heading for home. The next time he came back,
he hoped it would be with Rebecca.

***

“I don’t know, Abby. It’s a little clingy.” Rebecca
loved the dusty rose-colored, A-line dress Abby had her try on, but it was so
different from the plain, serviceable outfits she usually wore that she had a
hard time feeling comfortable in it. It was a simple gown, but it did flatter
her figure.

“Don’t worry. Yes, he will see that you have nice
hips for birthing and full breasts for nursing babies, but you’re all covered
up, nothing’s too tight, no bare shoulders. You’ll look elegant and sexy but
not the least bit trampy.”

Rebecca stepped away from the mirrors and back
toward the changing room. A pair of giddy teens took her place at the mirror,
admiring themselves in prom dresses that clung to them like plastic wrap. Even
Abby, who had worn her share of scandalous dresses to college formals, raised a
brow at the slit that traveled to the top of the taller girl’s thigh. Rebecca
blocked out the sound of their giggles and the cloying fragrance of their
perfumes and refocused on her task. She’d need to get a pair of matching shoes,
too. Being that she was the best man’s date, people were going to notice her.
She didn’t want to embarrass Chris. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. It’s perfect, Rebecca. Really. You’re
going to knock his socks off.”

“I really like him, Abby.” She didn’t know how much
she should share with Abby. To call her a loose cannon was an understatement.
She could imagine introducing Chris to Abby and her asking him if he had any
communicable diseases or mental health disorders. She was that kind of crazy.

“I can tell, and I’m glad. It’s about time you met
someone normal outside Daddy’s web of weirdoes.” She took Rebecca’s hand in a
gentle gesture uncharacteristic of Abby’s usual brashness. “Rebecca, relax. The
dress is perfect, and even if it weren’t, any man should consider himself lucky
to have you on his arm.”

Abby didn’t hug. Rebecca knew that, but she
couldn’t resist. Her sister had said just the right thing. “I love you, Abby.”

“I love you, too, Becca.”

3

Good Good Time

Alan, Chris, and the groomsmen stood, and Rebecca
realized the wedding was about to begin. Chris’s gaze searched the crowd and
when it rested on her, he smiled and winked. She smiled in return and then slid
down in her seat as three young women with bare shoulders, ample bosoms, and
elaborate updos turned to see where he’d directed that smile. Old girlfriends?

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She liked
Chris. A lot. But a wedding three dates in may not have been wise. Chris knew
everyone here it seemed. And she knew no one but him.

When they arrived at the reception, she stuck close
to his side, and thankfully he made every effort to see that she didn’t feel
out of place. He either held her hand or slipped his arm around her waist.
Every time someone stopped to talk to him, Chris introduced her. When the
conversation lulled he always had something to add so that she wasn’t left
standing there like a fool.

Rebecca traced a line in the condensation on her
champagne flute while she waited for Chris to rejoin her after some photos. She
had never tasted champagne before tonight. Her dad hadn’t found much cause for
celebration in their home. She felt like celebrating tonight though. Chris
liked how she looked in her dress. What word did he use? Exquisite. He said she
looked exquisite. She smiled when she remembered the dreamy look on his face as
he greeted her in the receiving line after the ceremony and introduced her to
his parents.

She took another sip of the champagne. She had
learned three things from Chris’s toast to Alan and Jamie. First, Alan was
considered the fun-loving, wild brother whose engagement last year surprised
everyone, while Chris was the shy and steady one. Second, their parents,
especially their father, had a tremendous positive influence on both of them,
and their sons loved them deeply. Finally, it was obvious to everyone in the
room that Chris exuded an irrepressible charm not born of smoothness or
sophistication, but derived from sincerity and authenticity.

 After their meal and the requisite bridal party
dance, she and Chris ended up at a table for ten in the rear of the hotel
ballroom. The guests rotated from time to time, but it was a continuous series
of cousins and friends of Chris and Alan and their wives or girlfriends. Chris
always had a drink in front of him. He threw back the shots with the other guys
at the table, maybe three in all, and then switched to beers. He took his time
with them, and she guessed he only had a couple over the two hours they sat
there.

Just the presence of alcohol made Rebecca nervous, the
bubbly champagne she enjoyed notwithstanding. Her dad had never allowed a drop
of it in their house. Still, although everyone at the table relaxed and had a
good time, no one seemed drunk. They laughed a little harder at the jokes than
she did, but not one person had said or done anything inappropriate. Twice
Chris had offered to get her a glass of wine or a mixed drink, but when she
said, “No, thank you. A ginger ale would be great,” he didn’t push her the way
some people did.

Chris whispered in her ear. “I’m tired of sitting.
Are you ready to dance?”

She knew it would come up. It was a wedding after
all. She just hadn’t decided ahead of time how she would handle it. “I can’t
dance.”

Chris smiled, and she noticed that little dimple in
his left cheek. “Neither can I, but it’ll be fun. Pretty please. For me.”

If she wasn’t careful, those blue eyes would have
her saying yes to all sorts of things she had no business doing. “I’ve never
danced. My dad discouraged it.”

“Well, I’d be honored to be your first partner.”

She didn’t want to ruin his evening or his memories
of his brother’s wedding, so at the risk of public humiliation she relented.
“Okay. But don’t expect much.”

He lifted his hand and pinched his thumb and
forefinger together, twisting his wrist as if he were turning a dial. “There.
My expectations are set to low.” He smiled again, sans dimple, and pushed back
his chair. Taking her hand, he excused them from the table.

They walked onto the dance floor as an up-tempo
seventies song came to a close. The next track started with the twang of a
guitar, and Rebecca watched as a crowd of four or five guys headed to the
floor. Several girls followed in their stocking feet.

“Dave Matthews?” She gave him a sideways glance as
they stopped near the edge of the dance floor.

It took him a second to register her meaning. “No,
John Mayer.”

“Let’s go, Reynolds,” one of the guys shouted at
Chris. Chris nodded and released her hand for a moment while he took off his
jacket and draped it over an empty chair. He took her hand again and looking at
her feet said, “You might want to lose the shoes.”

Rebecca looked at her dusty rose-colored pumps with
the conservative heel and then back at Chris.

“Go ahead. I promise not to step on your toes.”

Rebecca slipped them off and placed them beneath
the chair where Chris had hung his jacket. The guys were already doing some
kind of crazy line dance that morphed into a Rockette-style leg kick while the
girls watched and clapped in time to the music. Rebecca was glad to stand aside
while Chris joined them. They looked so ridiculous she laughed. As they broke
ranks, Chris caught her by the arm and swung her around in a circle.

Alan and Jamie had joined the group and took center
floor for their own duet. As they moved off to the side, another couple took
their place and then another until Rebecca realized they were taking turns. She
and Chris were going to have to do—something. Her throat constricted, and she
stood stock-still.

Before she could protest, Chris took her hand and
pulled her into the center where he led her into some kind of do-si-do until
his foot caught the hem of one of the bridesmaids’ dresses and he fell to the
floor. The little crowd roared, and Chris got up, made a big show of dusting
himself off and took a bow, holding Rebecca’s hand out for a curtsy. She
laughed and obliged as someone else claimed the spotlight.

She didn’t know when it happened, but her
apprehension lifted, and she joined in the rowdy silliness for the next couple
of minutes.

The next song was a ballad, and Chris took her
elbow and pulled her in to face him. She felt a smidgen of discomfort but
pushed it aside. She was breathing hard and sweat beaded on her neck, but
dancing had been fun, and she wanted to have more of it.

She raised her head to peer up at him. “Dave
Matthews?”

He gave her a soft, amused smile. “Nope.”

The song began with a few mellow chords and the
singer sang with a yearning that pulled at Rebecca’s heart.

Bound and battered

I want to loose your shackled
heart

Washed and winged

You fly free

Keep circling back to me

Stay with me

The lights had dimmed, and Rebecca tried to relax
against Chris. It had been a long day, but she could still smell his
aftershave, a clean fragrance that reminded her vaguely of pine. The disco ball
hanging above the parquet dance floor created shimmering squares of light
around the room.

After a few moments, Chris said, “You know it’s not
fair to Jamie.”

She turned her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.
“Not fair?”

“Not fair for you to look so beautiful. How will
anyone notice the bride?”

She raised both her eyebrows in question. “That
sounds an awful lot like a bad line to me, Chris. I’m sure everyone noticed
Jamie.”

He smiled as if to concede, but stared into her
eyes. As she relented and averted her gaze, he tucked some stray hairs behind
her ear. “It may be a line, but it’s also true.”

He pulled her in closer so that she could rest her
head against his shoulder. He slid one arm around her back while the other one
held her hand in his.

After a minute, he pulled back and said, “Thank you
for being my date tonight. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable not knowing
anybody.”

“Not at all.” It was a little lie, but he really
had made it almost painless.

***

Chris’s pulse raced, and it wasn’t just because of
the dancing. Being this close to Rebecca overwhelmed him. The mild berry scent
that followed her, the way she looked at him, and the feel of her soft,
delicate frame in his arms. Had he had too much to drink? No, he was a little
buzzed, but nowhere near drunk. He’d be fine to drive her home in an hour or so
like he planned.

The music played on, but as they neared the edge of
the dance floor, Chris stopped moving. He couldn’t take it anymore. Sliding a
finger under her chin, he raised her face to his.

“Rebecca, may I kiss you?”

Her eyes widened, but she gave a slight nod of her
head, which he took as a ‘yes,’ and he tilted his head down. The moment his
lips met hers he knew. He knew he was falling fast and hard for this beautiful,
guileless woman. He had worried she might pull away, but she let him kiss her
again and again, gently pressing his lips to hers and tasting her soft
champagne sweetness. He knew whatever happened or didn’t happen after this, he
would never hear this song again without thinking about this night with
Rebecca.

He wasn’t aware the music had ended until a chorus
of cheers and whistles brought him out of the moment. When he lifted his head,
he realized what had felt like the most intimate moment of his life was, in
fact, a very public display of affection. His cheeks warmed, and he pulled
Rebecca snug against his chest, hugging her with both arms. He smiled because
he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so elated.

A fierce protective streak rose in him, and he
continued to shield Rebecca from the whistles and leers. He lifted his hands to
the sides of her face and leaned back, wanting to see what was in her chocolate
brown eyes.

“Sorry. I should’ve waited until we were alone.”

“It’s okay.” Her sweet smile and the sparkle in her
eyes said that she meant it.

A hand slapped his back, and he turned around to
see Alan, a knowing look on his face.

“Keep that up, and I’ll be toasting
you
.”

***

Chris took her hand, and they grabbed his jacket
and her shoes on the way back to their seats. The faces at the table had
changed, but the conversation and drinks continued to flow. Rebecca noticed
that Chris had switched to Coca-Cola. The pale, red-headed guy across the table
was talking about a golf course he played on in Florida when a slender hand fitted
with several gaudy rings burst into her peripheral vision, wrapping itself
around Chris’s face. He released her hand under the table and tried to dislodge
the two that were blocking his line of sight.

At first, Rebecca only saw the woman’s fancy up-do
with expensive highlights. She cooed into Chris’s ear, “Guess who?” What was
this, high school?

Chris didn’t bother to guess. He removed her hands
and shifted in his seat so that he could see her face.

“Megan, I’d like you to meet Rebecca. Rebecca, this
is Megan. We went to school together.”

It was obvious Megan hadn’t been seeking an
introduction, but that’s what she got and to her credit she extended her hand
to Rebecca and said what a pleasure it was to meet her. Rebecca realized hers
was one of the heads that had turned to see her at the ceremony and that she
was inebriated. Megan turned back to Chris. “It would be a shame if we didn’t
have at least one dance. For old time’s sake.”

Chris didn’t take the bait. “I just sat down to
take a breather, Megan. Maybe later?” 

“Oh, come on.” If Megan were sober, she probably
would be embarrassed by the pleading tone she had used, not to mention the way
she ran her perfectly-shaped and polished nails up and down Chris’s sleeve.
“I’m sure Becky doesn’t mind, do you?” Megan’s glassy eyes turned back towards
her.

Rebecca floundered for an answer. “Uh, no. It’s
fine.”

Megan tried her best to pull Chris out of his seat.
“See? She doesn’t mind at all.”

With Megan pulling him away from the table, Rebecca
finally got a good look at Chris and the browbeaten look on his face. Once
Megan’s back was turned, he leaned down toward Rebecca’s ear.

“Thanks. You’re a great friend, Rebecca.” His tone
dripped with sarcasm.

Rebecca smiled. It amused her to see him in such
discomfort, in a flirty sort of way. His lack of interest in dancing with Megan
also pleased her.

Chris did his best to pry Megan’s arms off him in
the nicest ways possible. When the music ended, he escorted Megan off the floor
and into a gaggle of similarly-coiffed girls, then met Rebecca with an
exaggerated sigh of relief.

Rebecca laughed as he sat down next to her, took
her hand and placed it back on his leg where it had rested before Megan’s
interruption. The degree to which she liked the feeling of his warm, strong
palm encasing her hand and the smooth texture of his pants and sturdy leg
beneath her fingers discomfited her.