Devotion (3 page)

She turned toward the glow of the alarm clock, but Kellen brushed his lips against her throat and kept her from facing the hour. He took a breath and came upon the last tantalizing traces of lily of the valley perfume, a scent that would forever speak to him of Juliet. “Don’t look. It’s crazy late. Do you have to be up early?”

She pulled him toward her and made a happy sound against his cheek as she loosened a few more of his shirt buttons. Her fingertips skimmed against his chest. “Not
that
early.”

He sank into a mix of emotions—pure, loving desire, then a longing that possessed two very distinct and potent layers. One belonged to his wife; the other belonged to the echo of a lightning strike—to a woman named Chloe Havermill. Tangled within himself, Kellen knew just one thing to be true: Juliet was the antidote. His wife was the author of his heart, and he loved her deeply. She would keep him centered. The sureness of their relationship would soothe away anything else.

First thing in the morning, he would drink in God’s word like a parched man. He would return to his daily reflections and humbly, devoutly pray. Tonight, however, all he wanted to do was pour his love over Juliet like a benediction.

2

Dancing through misty, half-consciousness, Juliet burrowed into the welcoming depth of her pillow. The space next to her was nothing more than empty indentations and cool cotton, so she pulled Kellen’s pillow close and stretched beneath the bed blankets. His scent filled her.

She perceived only bits and pieces of the world that slowly emerged—but all of it was familiar, and comforting. There was Kellen’s almost silent tread as he moved from the bathroom to the closet. Next came the swoosh and click of hangers as he dressed. Finally she detected the crisp snap of metal coming together that signaled the end of his morning dressing routine when he placed his watch on his wrist.

Seconds later, his fingertips glanced against her cheek, drawing back a curl of her hair. The warmth of Kellen’s body filled the air for a moment. When he kissed her cheek, she registered subtle spice, a more intense version of the aroma carried on his pillow. He let the contact linger, and Juliet smiled; her pulse quickened in response.

“Bye, love,” he whispered.

“Bye.” She turned to give him a hug, which he took in readily. A smile later, he was gone.

Well—never really
gone
.

Juliet gave up on the realm of sleep. Instead, she drifted for a few minutes on last night’s memories and a sensation of happiness so rich and full it left her wanting to dissolve into the all-over contentment of being thoroughly loved.

She breathed out, her eyes fluttering closed.
Don’t do it,
she thought.
Don’t you dare let yourself hope. Don’t even think about setting yourself up for yet another fall.

The inner warning carried no weight. With hesitance, she tucked her hands beneath the blanket and flattened the palms of her hands gently upon her abdomen.
Please, Lord? This time. Please?

It had felt so beautiful to be in Kellen’s arms last night. There were none of the monthly mechanics. No lovemaking governed by calendars and bio-cycles. There had been nothing but love and the two of them—together.

For nearly two years she and Kellen had been trying to conceive, but with no success. During the past year, Juliet had willingly undergone a variety of fertility tests. All of them had come back normal, with no alarming results.

Relax,
her gynecologist had advised kindly.
Relax and don’t let your physical relationship with Kellen become a ritual of creation. Love him, and let him love you. Leave the rest to God.

That’s what Juliet liked about Dr. Jacqueline Roth. She approached her practice from a Christian perspective, and she possessed a caring, warm demeanor. Nevertheless, her doctor’s advice, following empty month after empty month, became difficult wisdom to observe.

A half year ago, Kellen had undergone tests of his own. Once again, there was no evidence of an inability to conceive.

Let me give this to him, Lord. Please allow us to have, and share, a family together. You’ve blessed us with so much—we want to share Your love with children of our own.

Juliet rolled back the covers and kicked her legs over the edge of the bed. She sat up with a yawn then padded through the bedroom to the master bath. There, skylights poured golden morning sunshine into the spacious, modern room. As she regulated the water temperature for a shower, a sunbeam glanced against the simple, gold band on the third finger of her left hand. Her wedding band was a perfect match to Kellen’s. She had forsaken the sizeable diamond ring he wanted to give her upon their engagement almost nine years ago.

“Do you know what I want instead?” Juliet had asked.

“Name it.”

His eagerness, his genuine willingness to see to her happiness was a gift beyond any price. “I’d rather save our money to invest in a big home, on a beautiful piece of land, with lots of rooms and space to grow into. I want to fill it up with family and friends. I want kids, and scout meetings, and youth group get-togethers, prayer gatherings and Bible studies. I want a home full of traditions and love and God. I don’t want diamonds; I want you. I want our children and the life we can build together with all the people we love.”

While the memories swirled, Juliet slipped out of her nightgown and hung it on the back of the bathroom door. She stepped beneath the soothing spray of hot water, still remembering the way he had looked at her after the request—in awed amazement—as he took her hand in his, and kissed her fingertips with lingering, tantalizing strokes of his lips.

“Consider it done,” he had said.

And Kellen made good on his promise. Their home was a haven of stately grace, but not at all stuffy. This was a welcoming place, full of beauty, and comfort. Kellen’s lone concession to giving her diamonds was a piece of jewelry she was now never without: a fine, gold chain upon which rested a cross pendant crafted of simple and understated diamonds. It had been his wedding gift to her.

Now, if only the rest of their dreams could fall into place. Now, if only she didn’t feel like she was letting him down and leaving them both unfulfilled.

Maybe…maybe…maybe…

She lathered and the water beat down. After she shampooed and conditioned, she rode her fingertips gingerly against her abdomen once again. Her eyes stung, not from chemicals, but from a sharp, deep longing that pierced a spot in her soul that contained her deepest vulnerability: the need to share her love with Kellen and their children.

Please, Lord. This time?

As fast and potent as the plea dawned, however, Juliet pushed it to the side. Out of necessity, the practice of rebuke and refusal became another ingrained part of her monthly routine. There was no other choice for them but to soldier on as best they could and ignore the gentle, well-meaning barbs from friends and family members, the endless questions about when, and if, they would ever have children…

My plans for you are greater than the storms that come, Juliet. Rest in My hands.

The words filled her, as strong and real as any that could be spoken aloud. Juliet went still beneath the strong jet of water, listening, praying for even more from the powerful, compelling voice that slid through her soul—the voice that she knew came straight from God.

She had always believed in the truth of God calling her by name, and in ways that were specific to whatever was going on in her life—be they good or bad. He was always there—but she felt called to prayer in an even stronger way today. All at once, she longed for intensive, focused time with God.

Juliet didn’t have much on the agenda this morning, so she dried her hair into a wavy tumble. Black jeans and a dark green turtleneck sweater completed a casual and comfortable ensemble. She trotted down the stairs, galvanized by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The aroma provided yet another reminder of her husband’s thoughtfulness. He was always the first one out the door, so he always made sure a new pot was in place for them both.

Juliet stopped in the family room before settling in for breakfast. She picked up her Bible from an end table between the two leather easy chairs she and Kellen usually occupied and carried it with her to the kitchen. There, a teak dinette with matching chairs was tucked into the cheery space created by a spacious bay window. Sunlight burnished the room. Juliet set her Bible by the chair closest to the window and prepared herself a breakfast of maple and cinnamon oatmeal, some coffee, and an English muffin. She added a small box of raisins to the oatmeal mix, and then settled in to eat.

But before she took a bite, before she even opened her Bible, Juliet bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap. Quietly centered, she went lax and offered up a prayer to welcome in the day, and leave its progression in the hands of the Savior she loved.

Fear not, Juliet. I am with you. I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my right hand.

Juliet lifted her head with a hard, startled blink. Her contentment burned away when her heart rate increased. The summons, she knew, came from Isaiah 41:10, but the resounding power of it flowed through her like an alert—a warning that ate away at her soothing mood.

She coupled this interlude with the words she had claimed in the shower, and for some reason, an icy sense of foreboding skated fast and smooth down the length of her spine. What was God trying to tell her, exactly? Why did the words resound like something ominous—a promise of shelter in a storm—rather than the assurance of His grace that she sought?

This had to be about her desire for children, right? The shiver of unease she felt stemmed from an understandable anxiety about the desire of her heart, that’s all.

She and Kellen had a relationship founded on solid rock—Christ’s love, and a passion for one another that remained both ordained, and beautiful. Thus bolstered, Juliet returned to breakfast and her morning devotions.

3

The night spent in Juliet’s arms nearly purged Kellen’s mind of the specter of Chloe Havermill. This morning he had come awake in typical fashion, spooned against his wife, his arm draped at a loose, comfortable angle against her waist. Chloe crossed his mind upon leaving the house, but only in a fleeting way that was business centered and easily dismissed.

Allowing for how late he had stayed out, Kellen indulged in a couple extra hours of sleep. Now, arriving for work, he felt content and reenergized. A perfumed cloud, of sorts, had lifted from his mind, restoring clarity. He thought of Juliet, just the way he had left her, nearly dead to the world and nothing much more than a few curvy lumps beneath the blankets. His lips curved automatically.

By mid-afternoon he was immersed in work and came to realize he had only sparingly glanced at incoming e-mail, so he switched over to the days accumulation.

His heart tripped when his sifting gaze came upon the address: [email protected]. The subject line read: Thank You.

He promptly clicked open the missive, instantly resenting the hunger that came along with its receipt. Only then did Kellen realize: he hadn’t followed through on his intention to pray this morning.

Kellen –

The simple words, thank you, are completely inadequate, but for now, they’re the best I seem to have.

Having admired you via reputation for quite a while now, meeting you at Iridescence was pleasure enough; being given the chance to meet with you further, and discuss ways in which we might work together to ignite my career, is beyond expectation. Yes, I admit it; I woke up this morning wondering if I had stumbled into an alternate realm, or some cruel trick of birthday fate.

I’ll call later today and set up our meeting, but before doing so, I wanted to pass along the addresses to my web site and a couple of fan pages a friend of mine set up.

There Kellen stopped, and he frowned. Most entertainers these days used social media to foster connections, and pull in fans, but he hoped…
really
hoped…that he wouldn’t discover a bunch of risqué pictures or any kind of lewd content that would diminish the image he held of Chloe. Nothing much could top her rich innocence, and that startling degree of charisma, if she played it smart. Eyeing the links below her signature line, he decided to avoid them until finishing her note.

I hope exploring my background will help you gain a bit more familiarity. Be well, and I look forward to seeing you again. The walk to my car, by the way, left me feeling special. And protected. 1 a.m., in an all but empty parking garage, can be pretty unsettling. I really appreciated the gesture.

Chloe

He smiled when he reread the ending. Somehow, it perfectly captured the essence of the woman. Guileless, charming, and warm.

He clicked on the links, and when he caught sight of the visuals, he was glad he was sitting down. The sites weren’t at all risqué. Instead, they revealed a woman who was serious about her goals and coming to the music field ready to play. Dozens of stunning performance shots along with a few casual pictures of Chloe with friends and fans chronicled an energetic woman in love with her profession who enjoyed fan interaction. He hesitated then clicked on her profile picture to enlarge it. Sparking, violet-blue eyes fairly leapt from the screen, the tilt of her head was already familiar to him as one of her mannerisms. Dressed in blue jeans and a white oxford shirt tied at the waist, she faced the camera straight on, smiling. Kellen stared. Raven hair was a cascade over her left shoulder. Sparkling earrings dangled against her neck…like he had noticed last night…

“So...what did you think? Amazing, isn’t she?”

Weiss entered the office and Kellen jerked violently, mousing in sloppy zigzags to extinguish the website as fast as he could. The last thing he wanted was to get caught crushing like some kind of hormonal groupie.