Chapter 12
“So tell me about California,” Luke said as he watched her, elbow deep in the dish water, running the little cloth over and over the pan she had been working on for five minutes. The dishwasher was loaded and washing, but the pans were going to take more help than that machine could manage.
“Hm.” She cleared her throat, and he knew she was navigating uncharted territory. Strange how he got the feeling no one else had ever bothered to ask. Her head stayed down as she continued to wash. “Um, California?”
“Yeah, you know, California, Hollywood.” He grinned at her, hoping to take the edge off of the request. More than anything else in the whole world, he wanted to know everything about her, and California seemed as good a place to start as anything.
“Hm,” she said again, ducking further so all he could see was the waves of her blonde hair.
Watching her efforts that were getting her nowhere, Luke finally reached across the sink and handed her the scrubber. “Here. Maybe this will help.” She wasn’t kidding about not knowing how to do this.
“Thanks.”
A scrub on the pan, and she lifted her chin and resettled it.
“So,” he finally said, trying again, “California.”
She nodded, her head bobbing up and down. “Well, um, I’ve lived there all my life, except for a few summers when I was littler. It’s fun, great even. Lots of sunshine and things to do. I like school as much as someone can like school.”
He saw the opening. “Favorite class?”
“Art.”
“Art? Really?”
The effort it was taking her to talk seemed to drift away from her as wistfulness took over. “I’m not really that great at drawing, but I love putting things together.” Finally, that pan was miraculously finished, and she put it in the other sink. Instantly he reached to rinse it.
“Things? Like what?”
Her shrug was much more like pulling her shoulders together than up. “Like fabrics and colors and things. I like how they go together, putting them together.”
“Oh. Like the upcycling thing. Taking one thing and another thing and putting them together to make something new.”
Wow did he like those eyes when they came up to meet his. Every time she did that, he had to put extra effort into remembering what they were talking about and that they were only talking. It wasn’t easy.
“Huh, I’ve never really thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess so.” This pan came clean much quicker. “We did this assignment once where we got to design a room.” The wistfulness took over again, and he was really starting to like that sound. “I could have lived in my room.”
“The one you designed?”
“Yeah.”
Now he was caught in her wistfulness. “Why?”
“It was just so… peaceful, so… I don’t even know… perfect?”
Running the towel over one pan, Luke leaned on the sink wanting to see her as she talked. “Tell me about it.”
Instead of looking at him, her head jerked the other way and down. Quiet had invaded even her slow movements. “It was a room, a bedroom, and it had a big bed that faced the door. I did it all in blue.”
“That’s your favorite color?”
She nodded almost without moving her head. “And greens and some yellows, just for some different pops of color. But I didn’t do it like anything definite. It was more like an abstract painting with all the colors playing off of each other. It had pillows on the bed and chair and paintings on the wall. I even made a notebook about it after the project was over, just so I could see if I could find things like I was seeing in my head.”
Laying that pan in the other sink, she reached for another.
“And did you? Could you find those things?”
A moment and she shrugged. “I finally stopped trying.”
He absorbed that as he rinsed the pan and cut the water. “So where’s the notebook?”
The shrug was barely there. “Back home somewhere. I don’t know. I kind of lost track of it.”
Luke nodded as he dried the pan. “So when did you stop upcycling?”
That brought out half a smile. “When I figured out everyone else thought it was dumb. Shopping for new stuff is a lot more fun.”
However, he could tell that was a lie because she said it and then shook her head. His gaze came over her then, and he saw with perfect clarity the struggle in her to be someone everyone else wanted her to be rather than who she really was. “So have you dug the sewing machine out yet?”
They were down to the last couple of pans, and Sage was glad. She was worn out from this conversation mostly because guarding her heart when he kept asking was harder than she had ever imagined it could be. “Yeah. But I don’t know.” The sigh took her spirit down with it. “I mean, what if I don’t remember how? I’d hate to ruin your present.”
“Well, considering Plan B is my old Lego blocks, I’m begging you not to let me down.”
That dragged her skeptical gaze up to him. He couldn’t be serious.
“Yeah, that’s what Alyssa’s gonna say too,” he said when he saw the look. “I’m begging you. Please help me out here.”
Carefully Sage let her gaze fall back to the pan in her hands. “Why don’t you make her a wishing well?”
It was his turn to fall quiet, and after a second, she looked up at him, wondering at that. Slowly he shook his head, but he said nothing as he dried the pan in his hands.
“Come on now. No lying over dishes,” she said with teasing around the edges of the words, coxing him out of the silence.
He looked down at her, and the vulnerability that was never far from the surface was evident in his amazing eyes. For a moment the pans were forgotten as her gaze twined through his, and then his gaze fell and fled.
“What?” she asked, realizing there was far more to that story than she had at first thought.
A moment and he shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…”
Real worry drifted through her. He had been so wonderful with everything, she wanted to repay him for that even if she didn’t know quite how. “Just what, Luke?”
The back door banged, causing them both to jump as the connection between them was smashed. Luke took a step away from her just as Jaycee came in the other direction.
Her sister stopped and tilted her head in surprise. “Luke? I thought that was your car. What’re you doing here?”
Instantly, he was nervous, and Sage couldn’t blame him.
“He just stopped by to say hi,” Sage said, thinking he didn’t deserve a bullet. “Mom insisted that he stay for dinner.”
“Oh.” Jaycee let her swim bag slide to the floor.
It took a moment, but Sage sensed Luke start breathing again.
“How was the party?” he asked, never stopping the drying of the pan that was long since dry.
Jaycee arched her shoulders. “It was okay.” Slowly, she narrowed her gaze at them and then trained it on Sage. “Rory was there. He was asking about you.”
It was amazing how little it took to deflate the nice fantasy that life could be anything but totally miserable. “Oh.” With half a nod, Sage went back to the dishes, her heart now as heavy as the dishwater. “Did you tell him…?”
However, Jaycee waved her hand. “No worries. I think Megan made sure he wasn’t too lonely.”
“Meg…” but the syllable was only a breath.
The yell from the living room yanked all three of their gazes that direction and jostled Sage’s fragile spirit even further.
“They watching the game?” Jaycee asked, pulling her bag back up off the floor.
“Sounds like it,” Luke said. It was amazing how he could be standing so close and yet feel so incredibly far away. Sage felt the separation between them down to her toes, and she hated herself for that. He was just a nice guy being a nice guy. Nothing more. Nothing less. It was her that was making way too much of this.
“Awesome!” Jaycee said. “Sounds like the Sox are winning for a change.” She crossed the kitchen to the living room entrance as Luke set the pan down on the counter without a sound. At the door, Jaycee turned and looked only at Luke. “You comin’? We can’t miss the Sox.”
“Uh. Yeah.” He glanced at Sage who couldn’t so much as look at him or he would see everything that was in her heart.
Head down, she could almost feel the pity he never put into words. She shook her head. “I can finish these up. Don’t worry about it. Go on and watch the game.”
The towel still in hand, he never moved. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” She had to get her gaze up to his, so he would have a prayer of believing her. “Of course. Go. Have fun.”
His eyes asked questions his lips never uttered.
“Really. I’m almost finished anyway.”
“Hey. Luke. You comin’ or what?” Jaycee asked.
Very different words went through his eyes even as he said, “Yeah, I’m coming.”
As he stepped out, Sage looked down at her hands. Prunicated. It was a very good word to describe them and her heart.
Somehow Luke had convinced himself that Sage would come join them for the game; however, when a full 15 minutes had passed, he began to realize she wasn’t going to come into the living room.
“Isn’t Banthum awesome?” Jaycee said as she curled on the couch next to him and wound herself closer to him.
That slammed anger into him. How many times had she done that? How many times had he convinced himself that it meant something, that she could fall for him, that this was going anywhere? How naïve could he be? She only wanted to be with him when it suited her. When it didn’t…
He wondered about Sage, about their conversation earlier. Designing. It fit her, and yet in a strange way, he sensed that her style of designing and what every person would think it would be when they looked at her was completely different. There was a Sage under all that silk and lace that he was beginning to think no other person on the planet had ever seen. It fascinated him, beckoned to him, held him utterly spellbound.
No lying over dishes. He smiled at the simplicity of the rule. If it was up to him, they could do dishes forever.
The sewing machine was different than hers at home, but Sage studied it until she figured out how to get the thread to feed properly. Hoping that her stepmom wouldn’t mind, she pulled out two pieces of the scraps and stitched them together to check the tension and the evenness of the stitches. When the first seam was in, she detached the scraps and tested it.
Yes, solid.
Now to find the right color of thread.
Ryder was doing a happy dance on a Sox double play as the clock spun around to ten. Remarkably the Sox hadn’t tanked their lead. In fact, at 7-2, they actually looked on their way to winning this one. Luke glanced over at the clock. It wasn’t late, and the game wasn’t over, but he was beginning to get seriously concerned about Sage. She hadn’t even said good night just disappeared from the fabric of the family, and seemingly no one had even missed her. He sighed and went to move off the couch.
Jaycee’s gaze slid over to him questioningly.
He ran his hand back over his hair. “I’m beat. I think I’m going to take off.”
“Already? It’s only the 7th.”
“I know, but it was a late night last night and a long day today.” His thoughts went to the night before, and he thanked God again for getting her home safely.
“Oh. Well, okay. Call me tomorrow,” Jaycee said. “Maybe we can hang out.”
Amazing how easily she turned being his friend off and on. “I’ll see. Dad wants me to work on the lawn, and I’ve got that bench to build for Mrs. Riley.”
Jaycee nodded. “Well, call me anyway… when you get the chance.”
Now wasn’t the time to get into this, so he just shrugged. “I’ll try.”
“K.”
He stepped aside and waved to the others. “G’night.”
“Oh, Luke,” Mrs. Lawrence said. “Are you leaving so soon?”
“Gotta get an early start tomorrow.”
“Okay. Well, tell your mom we said hello.”
“Will do.” He waved again. “G’night.”
The others acknowledged his departure but then went back to the game. Luke knew his way out of this house so well he could do it blindfolded, and when he turned the corner into the kitchen, he thought that might come in handy. Sage had shut out the lights and the kitchen was bathed in only soft, silvery moonlight from the window. He noticed the pans still stacked on the counter, and he wished again that they could just stand there and wash dishes together.
As he strode through the kitchen, his gaze tripped the other way and grabbed onto the faint yellow light coming from the edge of the hallway. He’d never had cause to think about where she was staying before, but now he realized she was probably back there, in the little sewing nook. Strange how his mind pictured her in the designer room she had described so very easily. This picture looked nothing like that one.
He knew he should just leave, but glancing back to make sure no one had followed him, he decided that just saying a quick good night wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, quietly, he turned and headed for the little hallway. The door itself was open just a sliver, and holding his heart in both hands, he reached up and knocked softly.
Sage was busy pinning the pink lace to the little armholes, lost in a world all her own when suddenly she looked up, and he somehow was standing there, at her door again.
“Knock. Knock.”
Surprise jumped on her so fast she almost inhaled the pins in her mouth. “Oh!” She spat them out like they were poison. “Luke? What’re…?” Her nerves sprang to life as she stood from the little card table with the wobbly leg. “I didn’t… I… Uh…”
His smile wafted across her heart and tingled there. “Sorry. I was just heading…” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder and leaned on the doorpost.
Sage’s body took over for her brain, standing her up out of the chair so fast that she bumped her leg into the table. “Ow! Oh. Gosh. Um… Goodness gracious.”
Her fumbling and awkwardness melted into the softest places inside him and Luke couldn’t stop the laugh. “Gee, girl. Calm down. It’s not like I’m leaving forever or anything.”
Pink tinted her cheeks as she came out from behind the table, clutching the little creation in her hands.
With a glance, he realized what it was. “Is that…?” His gaze traveled from her hands up to her eyes and held there. He pushed up from the doorway and into the room. “Can I see it?”
“Oh, uh, it’s not finished yet. I just… I just started it. I haven’t even gotten all the lace pinned on it.”
Luke sensed how self-conscious she was, and it was such a change from how she normally carried herself, it fascinated him even more. “That’s okay. It doesn’t have to be perfect or anything. Can I see it?”
For a moment she wound her top lip under her teeth and arched her eyebrow. “Um.” With a shrug, a swallow, and a dip of her eyes, she held it up for his inspection, and Luke couldn’t stop the smile.
“Oh, wow. Alyssa is going to love that.” He had thought he had decided to give her space, but the little vest with the pink lace on the pockets and the sleeves drew him to it. “This is amazing.”
Sage shrank backward. “It’s not that hard. Just a little lace.”
“Yeah, but… it’s so much better like this.” Standing right in front of her, he fingered it. “That is crazy cool.”
“Th-thanks.”
Oh, lands it was hard for a girl to hang onto her heart with him so close, looking so handsome and sweet. Those eyes. Those hands. That smile. Breathing was becoming a real problem, and so was remembering he wasn’t hers and never would be. “I hope she’ll like it.”
Then his eyes bridged the divide between them and captured hers gently, refusing to let go.
Her head started spinning. If she didn’t say something quick, Sage had the crazy notion that he was going to kiss her. “Thanks… for coming… today. I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to be here all alone. I hope you didn’t mind.”
“Mind? Why would I…?”
“I thought you were leaving,” Jaycee’s voice split right through the moment like a hacksaw, and Luke spun away from Sage.
“Oh, yeah. I was. I am.” He looked from one sister to the other in panic. “I was just going to say good-bye.”
Jaycee stood there, arms crossed and a deep scowl on her face. “Well, good-bye.”
Luke glanced at Sage and put his head down. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you around, Sage.”
Her gaze was down too, owing mostly to the shattering of her heart. “Yeah, um, I’ll see you.”
“K.” He stood for one more second and then headed for the door, sliding past Jaycee who barely moved. “’night.”
“Yeah,” Jaycee said.
“Night,” Sage called even though she knew the brightness of her voice was a complete farce. When he was gone, she put her gaze on the carpet and headed back for the machine not wanting a confrontation if she could avoid it.
“You know,” Jaycee said, her voice low, her tone dire, “I don’t know what kind of a game you’re playing here, but stay away from Luke.”
For once the anger in Sage gave her courage, and she scowled back. “For your information, he came to see me. I didn’t invite him. I didn’t even know he was coming, but he came anyway, so if you have a problem with that, you need to take it up with him not me.”
Jaycee narrowed her eyes until they were barely slits. “Luke is a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged through the mud for your enjoyment.”
Sometimes it was hard to comprehend how low her sister’s opinion of her really was. “You know, I could say the same about you.”
That pulled Jaycee off the doorframe. “Me? I’m not into making guys fall all over themselves so I can play pedestal girl while I make them look like idiots. Look at me. I’m so wonderful.”
“I never said that.”
“Well, you act like it.” Jaycee flipped her hair. “Look at me. I’m Ms. Perfect. Aren’t I wonderful?” She swayed her hips in case Sage missed the point.
The sword sliced into her. “I am not Ms. Perfect.”
“Thousand dollar suits. Five hundred dollar shoes. Perfect nails. Perfect hair. Yeah, you’re really slumming there.”
“I’m just trying to look my best. You should try it sometime.”
The dour look on Jaycee’s face dropped four octaves. “Stay away from Luke.” And with that, she turned and flounced out, closing the door though she barely managed not to slam the thing.
One second and Sage let out an almost scream of frustration. Why did she deserve to be attacked? She wasn’t trying to attract Luke. At least she didn’t think she was. Well, okay, a little flirting, but everybody did that.
She looked down at the little jacket in her hands. It was pointless to pursue it. Thousand dollar suits. Who was she trying to kid? Jaycee was right. No matter what she did, she would never impress these people. They played the game very differently than she had ever been taught to play it.
And Luke. This sigh hurt as it went through her heart. Jaycee was right about him too. He was a nice guy, and the last thing she wanted to do was drag him through the depths of her miserable life. She sat down at the sewing machine but only to put the little jacket down. With a shake of her head, she gave up thinking that she would ever have a chance of fitting in here. No. This place was just too different—like seeing the world through the opposite side of a mirror. Right was left, and left was right, and no matter what happened, she would never understand any of it.
All the way home through the darkness, Luke thought about Sage, about washing dishes, about sitting with her in the den. It was so incredibly strange because there were moments—fleeting but almost real—when he saw beneath the mask she wore so well. Moments when she seemed so very different from the glamorous girl who had hit their sleepy town, causing ripple effects all the way through it, the girl that Jaycee so clearly hated.
No, this girl, this “different” one, seemed much… softer, more timid and far less worldly.
He couldn’t quite get the two visions together to make the same person, and yet somehow, they did. In his own driveway, he shut off the car and just sat there, wondering which Sage would show up if he ever had the guts to ask her out. Would he get Glamour Girl or Soft Sage? With no way to answer that, and berating himself for even asking the question, he popped the door to his car and pulled himself up and out. In all likelihood, his mind said, life would never give him the chance to find out anyway. No, people as different as they were could never be destined to share the world together. The sooner he accepted that and went on with life, the better off he and everyone else would be.
Only thing was, he wished he could tell Jaycee that so she would stop looking at him like he was Satan’s first lieutenant all that time. That would be helpful.
The little jacket hadn’t moved from the side of the sewing table all week. Sage tried not to notice it as she dug into her luggage for something that wasn’t hopelessly wrinkled to wear to church the next Sunday. It had been a relatively quiet week. Luke hadn’t materialized again, and for that, she had almost convinced her heart she was thankful. He was just a nice guy, being nice. End of story.
There had been no meal the day before, and that was okay too. She had the feeling that being in the same room with Luke and Jaycee would either kill her or cause a fight she wanted no part of. Rory was probably mad, but she had no way of knowing that for sure as the only time she got to use her phone was the ten minutes at ten.
Her mother and Jason were now in Tuscany sipping wine, and Sage couldn’t help but notice how short every missive was from her mother. They were having a good time. The name of a town she’d never heard of before. What her mother had purchased or where they had stayed. Never a word about Sage. How she was. How things were going. If she was still going crazy.
She was, but apparently as long as her mother didn’t have to hear about it, everyone could be at peace with their own lives. Even her conversations with Patelyn and Mac had become shorter. Mac and Ben had broken up—something about a miscommunication in texting. Sage never quite understood the whole story, and by the time she got to ask, it was old news. So between reading, dishes, dusting and vacuuming, her week had somehow slipped by until Sunday spun around again.
The black and silver see-through gauze skirt came out of the suitcase, and she shook it out. Paired with a black top and short black skirt, it made her look taller. Especially with the boots with the spiked heels. Well, she thought as she knelt on the floor by the sewing table, she might not be the most popular person on the planet, but at least she could be the best dressed.
No matter where he went, Sage was never far from Luke’s mind. That might have been owing to the fact that every time he went to town, he had to pass their place. Whatever the reason, the thoughts were back on Sunday morning as the car knifed through the sleepy haze of the new day. At their drive, his glance betrayed him, counted the vehicles, and with only that, he knew they hadn’t headed to church yet.
They would be there of course. They always were.
Still, he wondered even as he drove on, if she would even look his way, or if had she completely forgotten their time together the week before.
Twice throughout the week, he had considered texting her, but then that would do no good at all, she didn’t even have her phone. So why did these crazy ideas keep sneaking up on him like heartache lying in wait for him to have a weak moment?
“She’s not into you, Baker. She’s not. She’s Sage Wentworth. Hollywood Glamour Girl. Get that through your head. She is way out of your league.”
For some odd reason when they got to the church, Sage’s heart rate picked up noticeably. She scanned the parking lot as she disembarked from the Mom-mobile and caught sight of the black sports car on the far side. Quickly, she dropped her gaze and let out a sigh. “Keep it cool, Sage. It’s not like that, and you know it.”
Luke was in the back, greeting those he knew when they came in. He was on deck to read this morning, and so he had chosen his best suit rather than the rag-tag ones he normally wore. The crazy thing was, he sensed her arrival rather than actually seeing it. With his hand in Mr. Fuentes’s, he felt the door open, and he froze. The smile on his face and the greeting in his throat went nowhere.
Instead of saying anything, he just nodded, knowing he looked like an idiot. Mr. Fuentes nodded as well and headed for the steps as Luke fidgeted with his jacket before forcing his gaze up. It was them all right. Her. And WOW!
The middle of his heart jerked to a complete stop, and his mouth went cotton dry. How was he ever going to look or sound coherent with her looking like that? Her hair was down in the waves again, flowing onto her shoulders which were covered in a fitted black knit top. A silver necklace stood out from the creamy skin at her neck. Those eyes, that smile, that confident way she carried herself.
Shaking his head, Luke put his gaze on his shoes, praying the vision wouldn’t land him in the floor. “Get it together, Luke. Get it together.”
“Well, Luke,” Mrs. Lawrence said, extending her hand to him, and he had to swallow to get his gaze up.
“Hello, Mrs. Lawrence.” He shook the lady’s hand, making sure to drag his gaze up to the left side of her and Jaycee rather than the right side of her and Sage. Lands, that was next to impossible. “Jaycee.”
“Hey, Luke,” Jaycee said with a smile, and she moved over to him for a hug. What had once felt so right, now felt awkward and uncomfortable. Was it hot in here to anyone else?
“Hey, Jayc. How’re you?” He pulled her in to his side and held her there.
“Awesome as usual. You?”
“Good. Good. Yeah, everything’s great.”
The hug broke, and although Luke didn’t want to be rude, he just couldn’t acknowledge Sage with the other two standing right there. In fact, his face was starting burn, and breathing was making his head swim.
“So are you reading today?” Jaycee asked. “I see you’ve got your nice duds on.”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah. Yeah. I am.”
What she had known all along was now painfully clear to Sage. Somehow she kept the smile on her face although the tears burned like fire in her eyes. Luke and Jaycee were a thing. She was invisible. All was right with the real world. It was her fantasy world that had just shattered around her.
“Okay,” Luke said with a smile, “enjoy the service.”
“K. See ya after,” Jaycee said.
Sage pulled her gaze down to the tiles and kept it there as they crossed in front of him. How could she ever have thought…?
His head jerked to the side as he felt her pain pass. But what could he do? Reach out to her? Take her in his arms and kiss the hurt—that he had caused—away? They were in church for crying out loud. He could no more do that than burn the place down, and something told him if his feelings for her ever became known, the place might spontaneously implode with all the wagging tongues.
No. It was better for all of them if he just kept his feelings to himself and dealt with it.
Halfway up the aisle, her stepmother found a pew and led them all in. Stepmother on one side, father on the other, the three kids in the middle. Sage wished with all her heart that she could sit somewhere else. Between her father and Jaycee, there was no comfortable position. Add to that, the fact that everyone behind them was staring, and comfortable was out of the realm of possibility. So she sat, chin up, back straight willing herself to be strong and get through this.
They wouldn’t get to her. No. She was Sage Wentworth, and that meant something. Even in this little po-dunk town that no one had ever heard of before.
As he went down the aisle to his seat in the front, Luke had no trouble locating them. The two sitting right next to each other could be no other. He retrained his gaze on his destination and walked right on by them. God, just get me through this without humiliating myself.
It was hard to pay attention to the service with the strong shoulders in that nice black suit just five rows ahead of her. His hair was long for a clean-cut guy, but it suited him nicely. The Roman nose, the nice smile—they played through her mind even though she couldn’t see them. Over and over, Sage told herself to stop thinking about him. Just stop, Sage. Seriously. Stop.
For one thing, they were in church, and in church you weren’t supposed to be fantasizing about some guy.
For another thing, he and Jaycee clearly had a thing going, or would if Jaycee would wake up and realize what an awesome guy he was, which was bound to happen sooner or later. Even Jaycee couldn’t be that blind or dumb.
Sage was getting really good at listing all the reasons her heart should just be reasonable about this whole thing when suddenly, he stood up and went to the little stand with the microphone. He opened the book there, adjusted the microphone, and looked out across the crowd.
Oh, those eyes! Why did he have to be so incredible? Heat flooded her body, and she had to yank her gaze down onto her lap to keep from making a complete fool of herself. The worst part was, he wasn’t just handsome. He was sensitive and funny and kind….
“Our reading today comes from First Corinthians 13.” Luke hadn’t bargained on Pastor Steve choosing this particular Bible passage, and it took a breath to get his eyes to focus and the words to start coming out. “Love.” He paused on the word, thinking this truly was unfair for them to ask him to do, but he gathered up his courage and continued, “is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.”
His gaze came up and swept across those seated there listening but never dared to stop for even a second. “It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
“Love never fails.” Never was a strong word, and he had to breathe that one down. “But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.” Oh, for that to be the truth. “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”
He took a breath and let it out slowly. “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
Against the ruler of perfect love, his looked rather pitiful, and he asked for forgiveness for that as he retook his seat. Then he stood with everyone else for the reading of the Gospel.
Sage felt like she was drowning in his words. Okay. They weren’t his words exactly, but spoken by him, they could well have been his words. Love does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking. The picture of him elbow-deep in dishwater, helping on the line, cutting up food, helping, helping, helping rushed over her.
No, he didn’t puff himself up. He was humble in a way she wondered if she had ever really seen anyone be before.
Pastor Steve took over at the podium then, and she tried to force her mind from the memory of Luke.
“The Gospel today is from the Book of Luke,” Pastor Steve said, and Sage almost laughed out loud. Did he have to be in every single thought?
“Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, ‘Jesus, Master, have pity on us!’ When he saw them, he said, ‘Go, show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were cleansed.
“One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, ‘Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, ‘Rise and go; your faith has made you well.’”
A moment and he closed the book. Everyone sat down, including Sage who was again aware of just how much distance her father and her sister were able to put between themselves and her. She wondered if others could tell, if they could see it as much as she could feel it.
Venturing out, she glanced over at her father and smiled softly. It did no good because he was only looking straight ahead, his arms crossed. Her smile fell into melancholy as she retrained her gaze to the front and brushed the long strand of waves from her eyes. She fought not to be frustrated, not to be hurt, but it wasn’t working very well. Why was she so unacceptable, so invisible to everyone?
“Lepers,” Pastor Steve started, and Sage put her gaze on him, trying very hard not to sigh out her frustration or burst into tears. Neither would do any good of course. They would just take her feelings and twist them to somehow mean she was a stuck-up snob, which, then again, maybe she was.
Her gaze started bouncing around the church, from her fingernails to the windows and back again. She thought back as if her mind was going a million miles an hour to Luke washing those dishes, cooking, helping. That was so innate in him and so very foreign to her.
“Ten of them,” Pastor Steve continued. “Ten lepers from Samaria. A foreign country. The outcasts of society. These were men who lived out in the caves because they had nowhere else to go. They were not allowed to be anywhere near the city, and definitely not near the Temple. They had been disconnected from everything and everyone because of this disease, for months or maybe even years. Dying a slow, painful unavoidable death. And then they hear about Jesus coming, and for once, they have a small ray of hope. Hope that someone might hear their pain and help them.”
Her thoughts went to those who came for the meals on Saturdays. They were like the lepers too. Not from a foreign country but maybe from a foreign lifestyle. No food in the pantry, no money to buy whatever they wanted at the grocery store. She’d never really thought about it like that, or thought about them either until now. Yes, maybe her family had a point about her being a selfish snob. Maybe she was.
“And look at what Jesus does. He stretches out his hand and He heals all ten of them. Now of course, we see the physical healing of these ten, and that was amazing and powerful. But I want you to think for a moment about the psychological, societal, and spiritual healing that came with this act of Jesus. What is the first thing He says to them? ‘Go show yourselves to the priests in the Temple.’”
Pastor Steve paused and looked out across them. “‘Go show yourselves to the priests in the Temple.’ In other words, ‘Go to the ones who have cast you out. Go and reconnect to society. Go and show what God has done in your life.’ And they did, and they were healed, and one of them came back to say thanks. I wonder sometimes if we really hear that. I know there are sermons preached about being the one who comes back, and that’s great. But I want you today to take a real look at the love you are giving out.
“From the reading that Brother Luke broke open earlier, ‘Real love is patient. Real love is kind. It is not self-seeking. It rejoices with the truth.’” He put his hands on either side of the podium and swayed for a second. “Have you ever helped someone out only to get kicked in the teeth in return? Have you ever loved someone and gotten nothing for your effort or gotten hurt for it? Have you ever been an outcast and ground the good that was done for you into the dirt? Why?
“Have you ever asked that? Why are we not grateful when someone helps? Why do we get defensive when someone reaches out a hand? And why do we cast people out in the first place?”
“Oh, it’s easy to listen to this Gospel, but it’s so much harder to live what Jesus is teaching us today. How to be there for the outcasts, how to bring them back into communion with God and the church, how to lift others up and really love them how they need to be loved—with a love that is patient with their failings and their fears, with a love that offers no matter what it gets back, with a love that’s grounded in faith that heals people inside and out.
“Instead, how often are we quick to judge, quick to believe the worst, quick to cast people out and hope they stay in the caves so we don’t have to deal with their humanity? But today, brothers and sisters, Jesus is calling us to a greater kind of love, a love that welcomes the outcasts and loves them where they are. A love that helps people reconnect and come into fellowship. A love that doesn’t judge and have agendas and hoops they have to jump through to be worthy of our love. A love that loves people where they are not where we might wish them to be. A love that loves them as they are not like we’d like for them to be.
“We need to become a people that has the courage and conviction to reach out to the outcasts in our world and through the love of God in us heal and help them, not cut off and cast out. And we need to do this with a love that doesn’t focus on what it gets back in return, with a love that keeps loving through the trials and the turmoil all the way into healing. So that all people might be reconnected to the God that loves them so very, very much. May we all today, ask for Jesus to help us to become a people of real love to the world around us. Amen.”
“Amen.”
After the service Sage knew enough to know it was best if she made herself scarce. Keeping her gaze down, she exited the main part of the church and went over into the little corner by the reception table and the fireplace. It was a corner. It was safe there. Safe from the disapproving gazes of the other church-goers. Safe from the ever-present dangers lurking by any one of her family members. Safe from having to have her heart smashed by seeing Luke and Jaycee together. Yes, this little, dark corner was far, far better than being out there in the real world.
Luke exited the double doors and bounced down the steps, not really noticing them. With one glance and only that, he surveyed the situation and asked God again why this had to be so complicated. As usual, Jaycee was on one side, and Sage was over by the desk, only this time she wasn’t out in front of it. In fact, if you didn’t think to look for her, you might even miss that she was there.
He hated that, hated how invisible she tried to be. He was beginning to get a glimpse of why that was, but it was oh, so very wrong in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. However, even he didn’t have the guts to go over there. That would be far too obvious, and the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself talking to Sage.
So instead, he talked with Ben for a few minutes and then Gabe who was back for a few weeks with his mom. They were okay guys and good reasons to not pursue what his heart said he should. Then, eventually, the crowd dissipated, and before he really had much of a chance to talk with either of the girls, they were gone. He breathed out a sigh of exasperation at his own lack of bravery, shook his head, and pushed out of the church. Might as well head on out to his grandmother’s. The family was gathering for his grandfather’s birthday.
As her father drove out of the parking lot, Sage glanced up and her gaze fused to him coming out of the door there under the little awning. Luke. Luke Baker. A guy so far out of her reach she might as well be in California. It hurt to rake in the breath and even more to let it out slowly so no one heard the slow cracking of her heart. Let it go, Sage. Please. Just let it go.
“Gregory and Emily had that girl in church with them again this morning,” Luke’s grandmother was saying when he slipped in through the back door and into the kitchen. “I’ve never seen clothes so tight on a body. When did modesty go out of style?”
Stealthily, Luke made his way across the kitchen, hoping and praying they wouldn’t really notice him.
“Emily is just beside herself,” his mother said, tossing vegetables into a pot. “Did you know that she had Rory Harris take her to a drinking party in Greely?”
“Rory Harris?” his grandmother said. “Is that James and Kim’s boy?”
“Yes.” His mother shook her head. “I just hate the thought that that girl would come in here and drag the others down with her.”
Luke breathed down the tirade he wanted to launch at both of them. How dare they run Sage into the ground? And she took Rory? That was rich. He wondered how many other horrible stories his mother had been collecting from Sage’s stepmom, and then he wondered why her stepmom would be spreading such vicious things about her own stepdaughter.
“Oh, Luke,” his grandmother said, her face brightening. “Can you get the bread out of the freezer in the garage? I don’t think I brought enough in.”
“Sure, Grandma.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was the most diplomatic thing he could. He strode back out of the back door, banging it against the wall, which felt good. The heat of anger coursed through him, and he wondered where she was. Holed up in her room? Sitting in the den by herself? While the whole world dragged her reputation through the mud.
And he wasn’t a stitch better. He had outright ignored her at church. Sure, there were reasons not to go overboard, but to not even say, “Hi”? What kind of a friend did that? “A big chicken. That’s who.” Grabbing another bag of bread out of the freezer, he went back into the house, being just careful enough not to bang the door this time.
“I think her going back to California would be better for everyone,” his mother said. “It’s not like she fits in here. I mean those boots she had on today at church could have fed half the community for a month.”
“Here you go,” Luke said and put the bread down.
“Oh, thank you, love. Your grandpa is in the living room. Why don’t you go watch the Sox with him? He would love that.”
Great. Why not?
With the family all home, the only place Sage could be was her room. It was getting smaller by the day. She had read four books from the little library in the den and had absconded with a fiction book about a rancher and his sweetheart. It was depressing.
Everyone else got to have a life, and here she was—stuck in this room because she didn’t dare venture out. Out there, there were dishes to be done and other nefarious things she didn’t even want to contemplate like taking out the trash and vacuuming dust bunnies from under every piece of furniture in the house. She felt like Cinderella without the ball, the glass slippers, and Prince Charming.
Well, okay. Rory would come close to Prince Charming if he hadn’t already forgotten about her. By the time the hero and heroine in the book kissed, Sage was throwing herself a good, old-fashioned pity party. Closing the book without even finishing it, she was surprised that her thoughts tumbled not to Rory but to Luke. She wondered what he was doing today.
At church he had made it perfectly clear that he had no interest in her, and strangely, that hurt worse than any snub she’d ever received, and that included her family and the people of the town. So what did she care if he knew she was on the planet or not?
However, even as she lay there, she realized that she did care. A lot. And that scared her more than she would ever in her lifetime admit to anyone.
“Well, if it isn’t my baby brother.” Hannah was on the couch beside him before Luke knew she was in the room.
“Hey, sis. You slummin’ again?”
She laughed. “Trying not to starve to death. All I’ve had in a week is Ramen noodles.” Picking up the pillow, she held it to her. “What’ve you been up to these days?”
He grinned. “No good as usual.”
With a tilt of her head, she eyed him. “You ask Jaycee out yet?”
Luke groaned and closed his eyes. “Seriously. Is that all you girls ever think about?”
“Like you don’t.”
Unfortunately she had a point, and it stuck for too long in his throat.
“Ahh,” Hannah said, knowingly.
But he shook his head. “No. Don’t go there.”
“Mom said you were over at her house the other night—eating supper with the family.”
Somehow he squelched this groan, but it roared through his spirit just the same. “They asked me to stay. I didn’t want to be rude.”
“So the family likes you.” Hannah bounced her eyebrows, and Luke was having a very hard time keeping his heart from jumping out of his chest at the thought of not Jaycee but Sage standing at that sink. No lying over dishes. With only a nod, every cell in him would’ve had him up and headed back to her. Instead he sighed and shook his head.
“Those romance novels are getting to your head,” he said as if the very thought was distasteful.
“Maybe you should try a little romance. It couldn’t hurt.”
Actually, it could. A lot.