More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (6 page)

“Oh, wow,” she gasped, fully taken in by the sight. “This is incredible.”

“No kidding. It’s amazing.” He hadn’t checked the times, but there weren’t many people in this theatre yet. What that meant, he wasn’t really sure, but his mind puzzled on it just the same. Fully taken in by the vastness of the room, he followed her to a center seat near the front of the balcony, but thankfully, not in the first row. When they were seated, he assessed her seat choice glad she hadn’t gone all the way to the front row as heights made him woozy. Still, he didn’t want to deprive her of the full range of the experience. “You don’t want to go to the front?”

“Nah. I like it back here.” The glance was filled with quiet apprehension. “Unless you want to.”

With concern and trying to read her, he let his gaze stay on her. “No. No. I’m fine right here.” He thought the exchange through and decided he liked it because maybe, just maybe she too was afraid of heights and had chosen the safer option. Maybe that was a good sign that they were on the same wavelength or something. His mind spun backward and forward through all it could mean. He was really going to have to get a pen and paper when he was around her to write these things down. Unfortunately, his mind picked that exact moment to go completely and totally blank. It was surely the nerves though he noticed the air in the room seemed not to be moving much. “Is it hot in here, or is it me?”

“No. It’s not you. It is hot. Must be the balcony.” She turned slightly. “We could go down, if you want.”

But he just smiled at her. “Nah. Some things are worth it.” When she smiled back, he could only think that he really liked that smile. A lot.

It was only when they were seated with no coffee and no getting tickets between them that Liz had the sudden and not wholly comfortable realization that she was somehow on a date with a guy, and she didn’t even know his name. She let out a breath, ratcheted her eyes up to the ceiling at the thought, and shook her head without moving it. No. There was no other option. She had to ask. She had to.

“So,” she finally said, reaching up and scratching her head even as her gaze traipsed away from the conversation, the situation and him. “Um, this is… kind of… well…” Glancing at him, she smiled a half-second smile that fell into what-am-I-doing-here. “I mean, this is going to sound really… strange, I know, but…”

He was looking at her with undisguised worry and terror as if she might pitch him off the balcony or start screaming like Janet Leigh in
Psycho
.

“The truth is, well, somehow I never quite… caught your name.”

Horror and relief poured into Jake in equal measures. Leave it to his inimitable stupidity to ask a girl on a date without ever bothering to introduce himself. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.” He let out a breath that took his body down four inches. His sardonic laugh was barely there. “Yours was on your name tag. I never thought…” Stopping himself before he humiliated himself or her any further, he nodded as a million more words flooded into his consciousness. He beat them back as he held out his hand willing his mouth not to make an even bigger idiot of himself than he already had. “I’m Jake.”

How he got the name out without butchering it, he would never know.

But instead of looking annoyed with his stumbling, the smile she beamed at him swept what was left of his breath away. Her soft, tender smile drifted up into her eyes as she took his hand in hers, and that managed to shatter and scatter every last rational thought in him. He blinked at the feeling as it drove like a dagger into the center of him and splintered there.

Her hand, soft and warm, now touching his. How was this happening again? It was as if all of life had fallen away but for that touch and the light in her eyes. “I’m Liz. Liz Savoy.”

“Savoy.” Jake couldn’t help it, he was falling fast and hard with no idea where the ground might be. And for that moment, he didn’t care if he ever found it again. “That’s really beautiful. Is it French?”

She laughed which surprised him because he didn’t know it was funny. “I think it’s more Italian. At least that’s what my grandma always said, but you’re right, it sounds more French, doesn’t it?”

Why did he have so much trouble focusing on what she was saying when he was close to her like this? And the lingering of her fingers on his wasn’t helping anything. “Yeah. Yes. Definitely some French in there somewhere.”

The lights suddenly slipped and muted, leaving them in the dim light, and Jake blinked for real to get the spell to let him go. Not wanting to but knowing he couldn’t hold her hand like that over the laptop, half turned to her the whole movie, he withdrew his hand as she went the other way. When he was safely back on his side of the armrest, his mind slip-slid through the last hour. If he hadn’t lived it in bright, shining, life-like color, he would never have believed it had actually happened. In fact, he had to let himself test it several times to make sure he wasn’t in fact dreaming. Then again, if he was, this was one dream he never wanted to wake up from. One glance at her, and he smiled. Truly it was the Best. Dream. Ever.

The movie was good enough, a typical chase flick that started with a bang and never let up on the action until the final credits started scrolling. By the end Liz was tired from the nonstop, head-spinning thrill ride. Several times throughout the movie she had wondered if he would make some kind of a move, to hold her hand again or to put his arm around her, but he never had. Maybe she had misread this whole thing she thought again as they sat, neither moving, though it seemed everyone else in the theatre was already headed out when the credits started.

She looked over at him, but his gaze was glued to the screen. “You ready?”

When his gaze came over to hers, he looked a bit puzzled and somewhat startled. “What? Oh. Sorry. I usually stay to watch the credits, but we can go if you want.”

That was odd, but she checked her judgment. “Oh. No. That’s okay. We can stay. I don’t mind.” She settled back in her seat, watching, not sure what was so interesting.

Once she snuck a sidelong glance at him. He had a nice silhouette outlined with those dark whiskers that were such a part of him not to mention the nice everything else that was so inherent to him. He still had his computer on his lap, and she suddenly felt very bad for making him hold it the whole time. Glancing back to the screen still scrolling, she puzzled over why they were still there. Especially since everyone else had already left.

After another minute, she could stand it no longer. Leaning over to him, she purposely did not take her gaze off the black surface smattered with a disparity of names. “What exactly are we looking for?”

He slid down a little more in his seat and leaned back to her. “I just think it’s amazing to see how many people it takes to make a movie. I mean, look at that. Grips and assistants to the make-up people and stand-ins and stunt people and people who wrote the music and people who recorded the music. Production people and distribution people. I don’t know. I just like to spend a little time at the end saying thanks for all their talent and time.”

Liz wasn’t sure if it was what he said or how he said it, but something about it captured her true admiration. She let her gaze slide up his face and back down it before she returned it to the screen. They were down to the music list. The names were so small, they were barely legible. Still, he was right. It was an impressive list.

And then the screen went black, and the lights came up. She stood with him, stumbling in the light.

“Sorry about that. I know it’s kind of weird,” he said, now clearly embarrassed.

“No.” She pulled the bottom of her top down. “It’s cool.” Not sure if it was time to leave even now, she looked at him. “You ready?”

His smile was soft, and his eyes continued to apologize. “Yeah. We’d better go before they make us clean up.”

Trying not to wonder what came next, she wound her way out of the line of seats and then waited for him to make it out too. “So, what did you think?”

They went up the aisle to the doors at the back and then out into the even brighter lights of the lobby.

“Of the movie?” he asked as if she might be talking about something else.

“Yeah. What’d you think?”

He was a little bit taller than her, maybe four or five inches, so she had to look up to talk with him as they headed to the staircase. “It’s was good. Good plot overall, but the characterization was a little weak in places.”

They went down the stairs, her hanging on to the railing so she didn’t trip and take the rest of the flight down tumbleweed style.

“Oh, yeah?” At the bottom, she crossed her arms, now quite sure he was not going to take her hand. “Like what?”

He glanced at her, and she felt it. “Well, like Patrick. I mean he was running from the FBI and all, but why?”

“Well, he had the plans.”

“Yeah, but so? I mean why didn’t he want them to have them? Okay, he didn’t trust Henderson, but he could have given them to one of the others.”

“But how would he know the others weren’t in on Henderson’s plans?”

“Well, he didn’t I guess.” He thought about that as he pushed through the outside door and held it for her. “But then he just gave them to the guy he didn’t even know at the end. What was that all about? I mean he runs and runs and runs and then bang. He finds this guy, gives him the plans, and we’re done. What does that even mean?”

Liz was immensely surprised by his passion. She hadn’t expected that at all. “I’m not sure it’s supposed to mean anything. It’s a movie. Go fast. Drive around. Shoot a bunch of people. The end. We’re done.”

Suddenly they both realized at the same moment that they were standing out on the sidewalk, neither going east nor west.

Looking up, Liz crossed her arms more firmly, suddenly sad to see the evening go so quickly. “Well…”

His gaze went up and then came down to hers. “Yeah.”

She reached up and scratched her head as awkward fell between them. “I guess this is it.”

It took him five seconds to agree. “I guess so.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, her gaze not really being able to hold his. “For going with me.” Now her gaze was sliding this way and that, unable to hold on anything. “It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” And then his gaze came to her face and stayed.

When she found him looking, nerves attacked like a school of angry squid overtaking her. She bent her head and scratched the side of her ear. Wow. This was awkward. “So. I guess I’ll see you at the shop sometime?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Although it broke her heart, she managed a smile. “With your shapes?”

“Yeah.” The word was hardly a breath though he never took his eyes off of her.

Another moment and she nodded. “Okay. Well, I’d better get on home.” Another half-moment and she stepped past him, not sure he wouldn’t reach out to stop her, and not sure she didn’t want him to either. “Take care.”

Jake was snagged in the free fall of having no clue what to do. Should he ask to walk her home, or was that too forward? Granted most guys would have her back at her apartment and in a bed by now, but he wasn’t most guys. He still couldn’t believe he had made it this far. “You… you too.”

And then, inexplicably he was standing on the sidewalk by himself watching her walk away. When she crossed the street at the crosswalk, his heart fell inside him.

“That was great, Jake. Real smooth.” His attention fell to his computer and the thoughts of all his shortcomings dropped on his shoulders. And things were going so well too. With a kick he got his feet moving in the direction of his apartment. Tonight letting the darkness absorb him would feel even better than it normally did.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why do you have to be so unbelievably stupid?” At that moment he truly hated himself. Maybe more than he ever had.

“And then I left,” Liz said over the rags they were using to wipe down the counter on Monday night when all the customers had gone home.

“After he laid one on you, right?” Mia wasn’t going to be satisfied with them just sitting in the balcony watching the movie, and Liz wasn’t sure she was satisfied with it either. He hadn’t come in tonight, and she had been so sure he would. He had said he would. At least she thought he had said he would. The end of that quasi-date was still a little fuzzy.

All weekend she had thought through the night. Over and over on auto-play. Even at church and Bible Study on Sunday night. She knew that was hardly spiritual, but her mind simply wouldn’t attend to anything other than him standing there on the sidewalk as if he was planted there. Okay, she didn’t want him to come home with her. She had, in fact, been dreading that moment in case he suggested it. But when it passed with no fireworks, not even a dud-pop, the truth was she was disappointed. Of course that was dumb. It was a no-win situation for him. Either way she was going to be mad or hurt. The “right” thing was such a thin line, no one could hit it accurately. Still she had let herself have the luxury of replaying how she would have liked the evening to end in her night dreams and her daydreams since then.

The honest and total truth was that besides the fact that he had made absolutely no moves on her, she’d had a really good time with him. He was nice and polite and interesting. The greater truth was she wished she could go back to that last conversation. She’d thought about what he said, and she had a few observations of her own on those counts now. But now it was too late. “No, he didn’t lay one on me. We said good night, and he went his way and I went mine.”

Mia stopped wiping and put her rag on her hip in a firm grip as she tilted her head in barely disguised disgust. “You mean to tell me that boy took you to the movies, did not hold your hand for more than two seconds, didn’t even try to put his arm around you, and then he didn’t even have the good sense kiss you goodnight?”

“Hey,” Liz said defensively as much for him as for her. “It’s not that big a deal. Okay? It’s not like I’m looking to hook up with anybody now anyway.”

“Uh-huh.” It was clear Mia didn’t believe her. Worse, Liz wasn’t even sure she believed herself.

When she was really honest, she let herself wonder what it would have been like if he had kissed her. Then of course she would snap out of that and remind herself that she didn’t have time for things like boyfriends and holding hands and kissing on street corners. It was better this way. If not better then at least easier, and that was close enough.

Monday, work passed for Jake like a conveyor belt stuck on ultra-slow. Driving the forklift from one end of the building to the other had never been particularly exciting. Today it had been excruciating. Random scenes from the book kept playing through his mind. They were so close he could touch them, but when he’d snatched up his computer after work and got to the tiny restaurant on the other side of the park, nothing would come. Nothing. Blank.

During work, the book scenes had kept his mind from her, but now that he could work on the scenes, it was only her that he saw. Her. Liz. Sitting there in the theatre. Her on that sidewalk. She was so gorgeous, so full of life. It was clear her going with him was only because there were no better options available. In fact, had her date shown up, he wouldn’t have even had that much of a chance. Hate for himself slithered over him, crawling across his shoulders and up into his brain. It snaked down into his heart as snippets of memories flashed like a movie gone mad through his mind.

Playgrounds full of happy, playing children. He watched them, feeling the sadness overtake him because as he watched them, he knew he wasn’t like them. He didn’t know how to be though he wanted to be with all of his heart. Then there was the art room, the sculpture of the tiger he was so proud of in front of him. Never had he felt successful at anything until he beheld that one something that had come through his mind, into his hands, and out into reality. Finally. He was good at something.

“Oh, look what the retard made…”

The ugly comment hurled by one of his most hated enemies sliced right through him even now, all these years later. He could still see himself, angry, hurt, bitter, as he smashed into the thing, slung it from the table, and ran from the room. It was his first trip to the principal, but it certainly hadn’t been his last.
Failure
.

The word should have been stamped in bright letters on his forehead. Everyone knew it, and she would learn it too if he ever went back. Of that he was sure. So, he told himself as he walked home with nothing to show for his excursion, he would not go back. Not tonight. Not ever. Instead, he would hold their one moment in his head and his heart forever, and that would be enough. More was not possible anyway, and the possibility of her ever learning he was stupid, of knowing she knew would simply be too much to bear. No, it was better this way.

With that thought, he disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

Liz had been so hopeful all week, but by Friday night as she picked up the chairs, she had no more made-up excuses for why he hadn’t come. Sadness seeped into her. The song she loved came on the speakers, but she didn’t feel like dancing. She felt heavy and dumb for believing she had anything to give to a relationship, anything a guy would want that hadn’t already been taken. He was right, of course, for not coming back. He probably realized she was damaged goods, and what guy wanted that?

She set a chair up on a table and let out a sigh when she realized only his was left. Walking over and feeling stupid for it, she ran her hand over the smooth plastic of the back arch. “God,” she whispered, knowing He could hear and hoping He wouldn’t think her foolish for the request, “please be with Jake, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing. He really is a good guy. Please let him know that I think so.”

With that she swept up the chair set it on the table and went to get the broom.

“Yeah, them other stupid, little snot-nosed brats don’t know when to shut up. I swear, I’d like to take a few of them out.” Arnold Beckwith sat at the break table with two other guys on Saturday. He wasn’t talking to Jake, probably didn’t even realize Jake was in the room, but the conversation was loud enough that Jake would have heard it whether he wanted to or not. “Poor kid. I remember what that’s like, the teasing and stuff.” He cursed twice and then shook his head. “I’d like to knock those brats into the next century, and I would if someone would give me a crack at them.”

“So are they getting him help?” Ike Linch asked. “Your kid, I mean?”

Arnold snorted. “Got him in some special thing at school, not that it’s helping none. I keep telling the wife they should just give it up. He’s going to work at the warehouse just like his old man. It ain’t so bad. Heavy equipment, working the forklifts. It’s in his blood. Why bother with all that book learning stuff? The kid’s not college material anyway. What’s the point?”

How many times had Jake heard that?
Not college material
. His heart sank. He knew nothing about Arnold’s kid, wouldn’t know how to help the kid even if he did, but he still felt for him just the same. From here on out, life wasn’t going to get any better or easier for him. He decided to take his lunch outside. Listening to more would just be too depressing.

As he sat out on the dock, watching the traffic of the trains and ships and trucks snake by, he asked himself what the point of all of this was. It was a question he’d asked on more than one occasion, and one he’d never found an answer for. He hadn’t written in three days, preferring instead to simply sit and let life go by in a string of images on the television. His heart hurt over that, and he wished he could stop thinking about it. That was why he had signed on for an extra shift today— to have something to do so he would stop thinking about his life and how miserable it was.

A face, hers, drifted through his consciousness and he smiled in spite of himself. One bright spot in a sea of depressing. He could see that sea of depressing in his mind as if he could reach out and touch it. Conjuring up her image was no harder than seeing what was right in front of him. He had her memorized, maybe had memorized her long before he knew he had. Front. Back. Hair. Face. Smile. She was beautiful. Like some exotic bird, perched for but a moment and then gone.

He ate the last bite of sandwich and let his head tip back against the hard metal of the building. It was almost time to go back to work, but for one more minute, he wanted to feel what it was like to be with her. Even in his spirit only, she settled him, called him to believe in something he couldn’t even see. He couldn’t explain that, nor did he understand it, but he felt it all just the same. If she could just be the person she was in his head…

But no one could ever live up to that, and it was unfair to ask her to try. With that thought and a sigh, he pulled himself up and went back to work.

“Anyone else?” Tracy asked the young adult group on Sunday night as Bible Study was winding down. They were praying, holding hands, eyes closed around the circle as they always did.

The thought surged in Liz’s heart, but she beat it back. The group was wonderful, but they had this thing about being overly interested in the dating lives of their fellow journeyers. Then she hit on something.

“I’d like to pray for this guy at work,” Liz said, purposely not filling in any details. “I’m not sure why, but I feel like he needs prayers. I don’t even know what to pray for, just that God keep him close.”

Others nodded, and Liz let out a sigh of relief. Not that she thought they would judge her for making such a vague request, but it was always something of a concern. The final couple of prayer requests came, and then Tracy led the final prayer, and they all said, “Amen.”

Liz pulled up from the floor and joined the others at the little counter in the student center. It had been a haven ever since sophomore year.

“So, Liz, how’s the graduate search going?” Tracy asked. They had started at the center about the same time. It wasn’t like they were best friends, but they kept up with each other in a passing kind of interested way.

“Once I get through this test, it’ll be great.”

“When’s the test?” Tracy popped a cucumber in her mouth and took a sip of tea.

“Two weeks.” That hardly seemed possible. “In fact, I need to be making tracks. I’ve got a psych paper to finish up.”

“Fun,” Tracy said with sarcasm dripping from the statement. “See you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” As Liz climbed out of the church basement, she thought about Jake again. It was pretty clear to her by now that she was never going to see him again, and it wasn’t even like they’d made that big of a connection. So why couldn’t she just forget about him like she had the others? It was like he had made an indelible mark on her heart that she just couldn’t bury or ignore. “God, come on here. He was just some guy, and he obviously doesn’t care. Could we forget about him and move on already? Please. I prayed for him. What more do You want? He’s gone, moved on. And so should I. Okay? I don’t want to think about him anymore. I’ve got too much to think about. The exam. The paper. Getting into graduate school. There’s too much to be worried about in my own life to be worrying about someone else who doesn’t even remember I exist.”

Still the feeling didn’t leave. She took six defiant steps and then gave up. “Fine. Please be with Jake tonight. Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing. There. You happy now?”

It still didn’t feel like enough, but she had no idea what more to do. What more could she do? His name was Jake in a city of ten million people. Unless he found her, she would never be able to find him. “God, please, please, just let me stop thinking about him all the time. Please. I need my sanity.”

Jake considered going to The Grind. It was Sunday, and she didn’t work the weekends. Why he was avoiding her, he couldn’t quite explain, but he was, and that was all he could clearly say about the situation. Instead, he chose to push the recliner back and put on a shoot-’em-up show. It was bad, but it was better than life. So he settled in and let it take him wherever it went.

“So have you met up with Mystery Guy?” Mia asked on Tuesday during the lull.

“His name is Jake, and no, I haven’t.” Liz yanked her book from the hiding place under the counter. “And if you have to know, I don’t expect to either.”

“Well, did you give him your number or something? So he can get a hold of you?”

She hadn’t even thought to do that. “No. But he knows where to find me. I’m here every night of the week.” That hurt the most, the understanding that he was purposely not coming. The reason was obvious for anyone who cared to look. “It was one date, Mi. Bizarre as it was.” Liz shrugged as if it mattered not on iota to her. “Besides, I told you I don’t have time for that anyway.”

“Yeah, but…”

Liz held up her book. “More important things. Remember?”

Mia shook her head. “You and those books. I worry about you sometimes.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t. I’m fine.” She put on her best face. “I am. I don’t need a guy hanging around. He’d just complicate things, and I don’t need complicated right now. Seriously, Mia. I’m fine. Just let it go. Okay? I have.”