Kicking Eternity (15 page)

A board creaked nearby, and Cal squatted down in front of her. His hand cupped her face. “You moved.” He brought her head back into position. His palm stayed on her cheek a heartbeat too long, his fingers trailing down to her chin almost in a caress before he broke the contact.

She met his steady gaze. “What button are you trying to push now?”

Cal stood. “The one that turns your cheeks pink like they were a few minutes ago.”

Cal wasn’t the only one who could manipulate. “Let’s talk about obeying God.”

“Talk about whatever you want. I’m going to work on your shirt now.”

She would think about convincing Cal to love God. She would not think about Cal squinting at the landscape of her blouse. She would not think about his smirk. She would not think about the breeze ruffling the hair
on her arms and making her feel
naked in the middle of the room.

Cal chuckled. “That worked nicely.”

She ignored the heat creeping up her face. “God made rules to protect us. We obey Him out of gratitude, not because we have to.”

“I’m not grateful. I want to do what
I
want to do. It burns my butt that everyone around me thinks I ought to be a mindless Christian robot.” Cal clapped his brush down on the easel.

Maybe she was getting to him, too. “Remember “The Matrix” movie?”

Cal picked up his brush and rolled it in the yellow of her blouse.

“You can’t experience reality until you get surgically unplugged from the lies of the world.”

“I
like
my reality. I’m staying out of God’s way, and I’ll thank Him to stay out of mine.”

Okay, so Cal wasn’t exactly missionary material. Yet. But did that rule out his going to Africa—with her? People went to Africa for other reasons, didn’t they—why else did they
build
airports? Maybe part of Cal’s attraction was that he wasn’t committed to a career—he was available to go to Africa. Would Cal work for, say, a safari company?

She watched Cal dab the brush against the canvas. “Ever think about going to Africa?”

He looked up. “Not even on vacation.”

The rest of the sunlight siphoned out of the room with her hope. Her heart hurt clear through to her ribs. She wanted to curl into a ball.

Lord, please, I’m begging You, take this infatuation away.

Why couldn’t Cal be sold out on God like Drew? What was she thinking? Drew drove her crazy with his teasing.

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away before Cal saw it.Cal stood and stretched. Keeping the back of the painting toward Raine, he picked up the canvas in one hand and the easel in the other. “I’ll let you see the painting when I’m done.” He stopped in front of her. “See, sitting for me wasn’t so bad.”  He walked out of the room.

Worse than what she’d expected. A thousand times worse.

#

Aly stomped her foot down and watched the muddy water fly out from the sole of her sneaker. A cup and a half of satisfaction flung at her anger, not nearly enough to douse it, not even close.
Her sister
Kallie’s judgments scattered like holes in a sponge along the dirt road back to her cabin—she shouldn’t be having sex with Gar, she needed to break the pattern, she needed God. She splatted her right foot, then her left into neighboring puddles.

Since when did Kallie become an expert on body language? And it was none of Kallie’s business who she slept with and whether she had the world’s crappiest taste in guys. Easy for Kallie—who never broke rules—to be religious. But
she
didn’t need God jamming His finger into her chest about her sins.

Her jeans were wet to the knees now, and she was soaked to the bone with Kallie’s “I only want the best for you” speech.

The evening had been perfect, her and Jillian coloring on the living room floor while rain hammered against the cabin roof. She should have left as soon as Kallie came home. But she waited to be sure Jillian stuck in bed after six trips out for more kisses and drinks.

She hefted each five-pound foot up the steps of her cabin, water squishing between her toes.

Inside the cabin, s
he peeled off her clothes and put on dry sweats. There was one way to salvage this evening. She felt for the Altoid box in the back of her underwear drawer and headed for the laundry porch. Her flip flops slung wet sand on the backs of her pant legs.

She sat in the dark
,
rolling the joint in her fingers. There was something pathetic about smoking alone. Where was Gar when she needed to talk? He was a miserable excuse for a boyfriend.

She heard the sound of footsteps and slid back into the shadows, curling in a ball against the laundry door. She realized how alone she was. She didn’t think straight when she was mad.

Cal’s familiar blond head came around the corner. The air wooshed out of her lungs. “Cal, you scared me to death!”

“Whoa! Aly. What are you doing out here?”

“I got into it with Kallie and I came out here to smoke.” She opened her fist. “Want some?”

“Sure.” Cal took the joint out of her palm. He ran it under his nose while she dug a pack of matches out of her pocket. Cal struck the match and cupped his hands around the flame.

She looked at the soft glow on Cal’s face as he sucked in deep drags. What if—

Cal stuck the reefer between her thumb and forefinger. His lips clamped together holding the smoke in his lungs.

She inhaled deeply, straining for the feeling that everything was going to be all right.

They were quiet, zig-zagging the small cigarette between them until it singed her finger tips. “Mother of God!” She dropped the butt on the porch floor and ground it out with her flip flop. She shook her fingers in the air. She got burned every time she smoked. Good thing she didn’t smoke often.

She leaned back against the rough boards of the siding. “I unloaded on Kallie tonight.” She looked over at Cal. “Told her I was sick of her judging me.”

“Feel better?” His words came out slower than they usually did.

“I feel like scum.” She could still see Kallie sitting on the edge of the camp-vintage, plaid sofa with her eight-month pregnant belly resting in her lap. Hurt peered from her eyes.

“Apologize.”

“But I meant everything I said.”

“She was probably worried about you.” Cal tilted back the crate he was sitting on so he could lean against the wall.

“She’s
my
sister. I know her.” It irked her that Cal disagreed with her—that he might be right.

“Whatever. I was trying to help.”

They sat there in silence. Cal’s eyes drooped and closed. She sat on the floor beside him, her legs stretched out in front of her. She stared at the chip in the petal pink nail polish on her big toe.

“Where’s lover boy?”

She lifted her hand and let it drop on her lap. “Who knows? Who cares?”

“I thought Gar was your boyfriend.”

“Then why is he never around when I need someone.”
And you are.
She
floated
above everything in a hot air balloon
,
looking down on her fight with Kallie, Gar flirting with a girl she couldn’t see—and it was fine, it was all fine. Nothing hurt. And Cal
rode
in the balloon basket with her, just her and Cal. Drifting. Together. She’d always been a little bit in love with Cal—

Cal laughed, or at least it was a mumbled, outburst that could have been a laugh.

“What?”

“I’m in love with Raine.”

The balloon hit an air pocket and she grabbed the porch floor to steady herself.

“I just realized it this minute.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure.”

She didn’t like the candy corn sweetness of his smile. “Africa?”

“That’s a problem.” But he didn’t sound like it was a problem.

“God!” She raked her fingers through her hair. Why did things capsize the minute she thought about a decent guy?

“That’s another problem.”

“What are you going to do?” 

Cal shrugged and stared into the woods, the candy corn smile still branded to his face.

Raine filled her lungs with warm, water-logged air. A hazy, duckling-yellow sun laid a ribbon from the horizon to where Drew sat a hundred yards down the beach. She walked toward him on the water slicked sand. His knees were drawn up,
his face
buried in his arms, no guitar in sight.

“Morning.”

He lifted his head and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “Hey.” His voice was as flat as the listless waves lapping at his feet.

She sat in the sand next to him and nudged his shoulder with hers. “What’s wrong? I’ve been here for thirty seconds and you haven’t called me ‘Rainey’ yet.”

He turned his head toward her, and she could see his soul swimming in ocean blue eyes. “I endangered thirty two lives yesterday by not doing what my boss told me to do.” His gaze settled on a white triangle of sail in the distance. “Why did I think I could make a better decision than Jake? He’s a sailor
, a weather junkie
. I
don’t even read the weather in the paper
.” He dropped his chin to his chest and stared at the sand between his feet.

“No one was hurt.”

“Stu sliced his toe open on a rock—four stitches. Bubba has a strawberry the shape of Florida and almost as big.”

Raine scooted around to face Drew. “You’ve asked God’s forgiveness—”

“All night.”

She picked up Drew’s Bible from where it lay on the sand. It felt heavy and foreign in her hands. She thumbed through the thin pages littered with underlines and hand-written notes. Her finger stopped on the passage she was looking for.

“If you confess your sins to God, He is faithful and just to forgive your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness.” She closed the book, running her hand across the worn, brown leather, and set it back on the sand. “What does it mean?”

“God has forgiven all of my sin
s
.” Drew said it in a
monotone
.

“Did He forgive you for refusing to submit to Jake?”

“That’s what I said.” 

She nudged his chin up with the back of her hand, forcing him to look at her. “It’s done. Faith is believing what God said in the Bible is true.” She dropped her knuckles from the stubble on his chin.

“I believe it. I don’t feel it.”

“Your feelings will catch up. If the emotion was wiped out as soon as God forgave us, we’d go right back out and do the same thing again. Like I’m sure not drinking any more wine on camp property!”

Drew’s eyes widened. “You’re
what
?”

“Cal and Aly are on a mission to educate the missionary. I tasted Cal’s wine cooler—” She was embarrassed all over again. “God used it to help Aly see I mess up like she does, but I still regret it.”

Drew shook his head. “You’re full of surprises.”

Her gaze drifted down the beach littered with tree limbs and seaweed and trash displaced by the waterspout—not so different from the wreckage inside Drew. She looked back at him. “Let’s pray.”

Drew shrugged like he didn’t see the point.

She reached for his hand. He needed this.
Lord, please comfort Drew. This was a hard lesson—

“Okay, God, I’m going to say it one more time, and then let it be. I’m sorry I didn’t obey the authority You placed over me. I see the result of my sin in the injuries, putting lives in danger. I get what You’re teaching me. May I be a better man because of it.”

“Pour Your grace over Drew. Match his feelings to the truth at the right time.”

“Amen.”

They stood and reached for each other at the same time, a natural period at the end of their conversation. She breathed in the scent of dryer sheets. Seconds passed and she relaxed her hold around Drew’s ribs, but his arms still
wrapped tight
around her shoulders. She stayed in the hug. His chin rested on the top of her head, warm sandpaper pressing into her scalp. Her cheek smashed against his solid chest. The thump of his heart seemed like her own.
What if—
No, this was Drew, who would be tormenting her as usual the next time she saw him
.

He loosened his hold on her,
then
his arms fell away. His eyes held a hint of the Drew who called her Rainey. “Thanks.” He turned and walked off toward the jetty tossing her a wave over his head.

She watched him go feeling like she was seven and Eddie had ripped
off
the covers to wake her up—suddenly cold when she’d been snug and warm. She rubbed her arms and turned toward camp.