Unexpected Wedding (12 page)

She leaned her head against the window. “My car...”

“We’ll get it tomorrow.”

“I can drive my car,” she insisted.

“Tomorrow. Today I want to make sure you don’t run off.”

“I’m not going to run off.” She closed her eyes. “I have nowhere else to go.”

****

Rocky switched off his amp, propped his bass guitar in his lap, and rolled down the ramp off the platform. Other band members dispersed as Max gathered his stick bag and joined him near the front of the sanctuary.

“We’ll lock up,” Rocky called out. “See you tomorrow night.”

No one argued as their leader switched off the sound system and headed for the exit.

Max dropped his bag on the floor and rocked on his heels until the last person shuffled out. He turned to Rocky as the door closed. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

He motioned toward him with his phone in his hand. “I mean what’s up with you? Weird text this afternoon, then you were late, and you look, I don’t know,
sick
or something. And you didn’t play well tonight. I mean, sorry dude, but whoa.”

Rocky rolled to the first pew and placed his guitar in his gig bag. “Are you finished?”

“Not quite. You need to stay out of that Thai place.”

“How did you know I was at the Thai restaurant?”

“There’s a big orange spot on your shirt.”

Rocky looked down immediately. It would be more than embarrassing to know he’d eaten with Gia and attended worship band practice and somehow missed that.

Max laughed. “Gotcha.”

Rocky grabbed his case and prepared to take off down the center aisle. “What are you, twelve? Remind me not to text you the next time I need to bounce something off someone.”

“Wait, Rock, you didn’t say it was serious. I thought you wanted to talk about your truck. You want to go to the coffee shop?”

Rocky put the guitar back down. “No. The others might be there.”

Max shoved his phone in his pocket and dropped into a seat nearby. “What’s goin’ on? This isn’t about Gia, is it? I thought that was a lock.”

Warmth seeped under his collar and up his neck. He wouldn’t call anything a “lock.” It was a good date and a great kiss, but they’d blown way past that initial first-date high. That seemed like a hundred days ago.

“I’m getting married,” Rocky said so softly that Max had to cup his ear and lean forward.

“What?”

He felt more confident as he formed the words to repeat it. “I’m getting married.”

The words struck Max stupid-faced. It might have been comical if there wasn’t so much at stake.

Max paused and then cackled like a wild hyena. His laughter bounced off the walls of the quiet sanctuary. “Good one, bro. And congrats to you and the Mrs.”

“No joke, Max. I seriously think I’m going to get married.”

It took a moment, but Max finally leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. He hung his head and then eventually met Rocky’s gaze. “I assume we’re talking about Gia.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve known each other for about three weeks.”

“Yes.”

“Even if she’s the one, Rock, you can’t rush into this. At the very least, you’ll scare her. You can’t hit her with this kind of talk so soon. Keep it to yourself, man, and let it happen naturally.”

“There’s been a shift in our circumstances.”

Max ran his fingers through his scraggly hair. “Now you’re scaring me. What is this woman doing to you?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing? She has you talking about putting a noose around your neck. It’s been three weeks.”

“I trust her, Max. It’s not what you think. I haven’t discussed this with her yet. This is all me.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” he said and thumped the side of his head. “Women are master manipulators. They can put an idea in your head and make you think you thought it up all by yourself. Resist, man
, resist!”

“Look, I can’t give you all the details, but Gia is in a rough spot and I’m praying about what to do.”

Max stood and pointed a stern finger toward him. “See? There it is. A rough spot. She’s in a rough spot and you want to help her out. That’s no reason to get married, my friend. That can’t be God’s best for you. And what possible rough spot could she be in to cause this crazy-talk? Is this about citizenship or something? I thought that didn’t work anymore.”

“It’s not about that.”

“What then? Did I wake up in nineteen-fifty-five this morning and she’s pregnant and ‘has’ to get married?”

Rocky dropped his gaze to the floor. He squirmed. Who knew Max would jump to that conclusion?

“No. Way. She’s
pregnant?
” Max clasped the sides of his head and nearly dropped to his knees.

“Keep your voice down. There could be someone here somewhere. And I did not say that, so keep your mouth shut. Gia would be devastated if she knew I was discussing her with you.”

Max returned to his seat. “You just met, Rock. What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything. We’ve been on one and a half dates, and in case you’ve forgotten, it’s highly unlikely I can father a child. That’s beside the point. I have a woman back at my house that I care a lot about and who needs me, so I’m not ruling anything out. I would appreciate your prayerful support and your confidence until we figure this out.”

“You moved her into your house?”

“Don’t judge us, Max. It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that. But what I do think is that my levelheaded friend has gotten himself tied in knots over a woman he just met, and who, by the way could be taking advantage of your kind nature. And what I think is that you’re considering a holy bond with someone you barely know. What I think is you’re
not thinking
!”

Rocky patted the pouch on his chair to make sure he had his music. “This is pointless. I have to go.”

“No, you need to wait. You only think it’s pointless because I’m not saying what you want to hear.”

“No, it’s pointless because you don’t know Gia and you don’t know the circumstances.”

“Fine, but hear me out. This isn’t eighteen-sixty-five where strangers marry for convenience and to keep from living in sin—or the appearance of living in sin—or to cover an unplanned pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong, this is a bad situation, but God can make all things right. Even if something has happened to Gia outside of God’s perfect timing, He can work with it. You can’t pile on to the dilemma by entering a sacred union with someone God didn’t pick out for you.”

“Maybe He did pick her out for me. Maybe it’s happening faster than either of us would have liked.”

“Fine. So she’s the right one. And she’s carrying another man’s baby. Can you honestly say you’re OK with that given you don’t know her well enough to know where her heart was when all that happened?”

“I do know.”

“What about the financial responsibility? You’re getting a new truck—which you need in the worst way. Not to mention the fallout of a sudden marriage and baby. How are you going to explain this? It’s the age of instant information. You have neighbors so close they check on you by nightfall if you haven’t pulled your cans back in on trash day. How are you going to explain that yesterday you weren’t even dating and tomorrow you’re married with a kid on the way? Are you going to update your Facebook status and not expect anyone to have questions?”

“I don’t care what people think. In five years no one will remember how this started.”

“What about what your parents think? Your mother’s going to kill you when she comes to. And what about Gia’s parents?”

“I told you, that’s what I’m trying to think through.”

“Let me give you one more thing to think about. You’re always harping about me getting to seminary, well, I’ve been taking some online courses to warm up to that. One of them is about pastoral care. We did a whole thing on pre-marital counseling. I had to find an article about modern marriage, and I ran across something that talked about how some young women today approach marriage. And you know what it said? It said they don’t approach marriage. They approach a wedding. They want the dress, the bridesmaids and the jewelry, but they don’t want the husband. They want a party, they want gifts, they want magic but they don’t want the work. It’s become a throwaway deal. If they don’t have everything they want in a year they simply walk away. If someone else turns their head in six months, it’s over.”

“You’re way off base, Max. If you think this is anything easy or magical or anything like a fairytale for Gia you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t know, Rocky. I’m your best friend who sees you at least three times a week and I haven’t met the woman.”

“I appreciate your concern. I’m asking for your prayers.”

“Oh, I’ll be praying. I’ll be praying you don’t marry a woman you don’t love out of some warped sense of responsibility.”

Rocky felt tiny tentacles of anger begin to rise against his friend. Max didn’t know his heart. He didn’t know Gia. He didn’t know the story. He couldn’t tell him. “Maybe I do love her. Maybe I loved her the first minute I saw her. Maybe I want to marry her.”

“Maybe,” Max agreed. “But even if you do, I have to wonder if she loves you back yet. And you deserve to be loved, one hundred percent. You deserve God’s best for you in a mate.”

“You’ve been heard, Max. I’m considering everything. Keep it to yourself, all right?”

Max stepped out of his way and retrieved his stick bag. “Sure, Rock. Anything, you know that. But can I ask one more question?”

“Only one?”

“Seems to me you’ve already made up your mind about this. Are you really seeking God for an answer, or are you going to do it and hope He said yes?”

That one hit a little close to home. He had to admit his thoughts throughout the evening leaned more toward how to make it work rather than if he should make it work.

He met Max’s questioning gaze. “Point taken.”

Max grinned. “Good enough for me, buddy. As long as you’re still grinding on it.”

They headed for the door. Max dimmed the lights and made sure the A/C had reverted to its nighttime temperature.

Rocky set the alarm. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Max said and held the door.

“If given the chance, what would you not do to protect a child?”

8

Gia turned her music down and listened. She crept closer to the bedroom door and listened again. If Rocky was home, he sure was being quiet. She’d seen nothing of him since he deposited her in his guest room, warned her about the falling computer parts in the closet, and explained the tricky faucet in her own private bathroom. He’d supplied peanut butter crackers and a nectarine in case she got hungry, and then left for practice. She’d tweaked her resume and fell into the best sleep she’d had in years and never heard him come back home—or leave again this morning.

She stepped onto the cool, bare tile. “Rocky?”

There was no answer, just the low hum of his central air working overtime on another stifling day.

She made her way to the living area and knelt on the country-blue couch to peek through the blinds. No car in the drive. No kids or pets in the quiet cul-de-sac. She pitied the lone squirrel she saw as it dragged its fluffy tail across the dried-up grass to reach the shade at the base of a Pin Oak.

She turned and settled in on the well-worn cushion to survey Rocky’s bachelor pad. Four matching stone coasters with a Lone Star design sat on the small coffee table. Countless white condensation rings were ingrained in the wood right beside them. So much for using the fancy coasters. There were technology magazines, church bulletins, and copies of music. She counted five remote controls, all lying outside of the wicker basket she was sure was for, well, remote controls. She resisted the urge to tidy up.

The recliner didn’t match the couch, but he’d compromised by tossing a blue crocheted blanket over it. The lamp on the end table with the bare, non-environmentally conscious bulb and no shade topped off the look. As with any respectable man cave, the large television took up most of the far wall. There were tiny state-of-the-art speakers hidden somewhere, she knew, but she couldn’t see them.

The other creamy white walls screamed for artwork. “Be careful what you wish for,” she mumbled as she moved on, “there could be poker-playing dogs in the dining room.”

No. No dogs. But how would she know? This had evidently become his home office and it was buried in ancient monitors and desktop towers. There were shelves covered with discs, cables, laptops, and manuals. If that was a dining room table beneath the crooked chandelier, she wouldn’t know it from the piles of paper and assorted electronics stacked high and covering one whole side. There were no chairs, only a spot he’d carved out for himself to pull up to the table and work on what appeared to be a high-end system.

The kitchen smelled like lemons. It hadn’t last night. The trash can had a fresh bag and a broom was propped by the door to the concrete patio. Two homey blue and yellow dishtowels hung in sync on the oven door handle, and assorted plates and clean take-out containers air-dried near the sink.

Something deep and overwhelming struck her as she found a clean glass and dispensed water from the refrigerator door.

This is for me... He’s been cleaning for me.

“I can’t let him do this.” She emptied the glass in a hurry and put it back. “I need to move on and take care of my own problems.”

In her haste to return to her room, she almost missed the note on the kitchen table.

Gia—

Gone to drop off some computers and run errands. Text me if you need anything while I’m out. I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll pick up your car after lunch.

Rocky

Shame swept across her. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be letting Rocky pick up the pieces of her shattered life, and she shouldn’t be burdening him with her problems.

Stupid impulsive personality. Always getting her in trouble, always hard to control. She’d fought it for years and rarely came out on top. From the retail jobs at the mall she’d stomped out of as an angsty teenager, to the classes she’d dropped in a heartbeat when something didn’t go her way. Not to mention the sinful things she dabbled in at the mere suggestion of one of her so-called friends. Act now, think later. Dive in without looking, suffer the consequences. Burn bridges, no hope of repair. If even one of her idiotic non-thinking decisions had been different, how totally different her life might be.