A Lova' Like No Otha' (14 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

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BOOK: A Lova' Like No Otha'
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All of a sudden, Chase flung me away. I landed on the floor, thumping on my backside.

“Girl, didn't I tell you to stop!”

I blinked for a moment, then crawled back onto the bed, but as soon as I got in, he jumped out. He reached for his shorts from the floor beside the bed and pulled them on.

“What's wrong?” I whined. “Wasn't I making you feel good?”

“Girl, this ain't about feelin' good. This is about honoring God. And if you ain't about that, then we clearly can't be in the same room together.” He grabbed his jeans and sweatshirt off the back of the chair and frantically began dressing.

The thought of him leaving in such anger frightened me. I didn't want to lose him. I couldn't.

A repetitive banging on the window infiltrated my thoughts. I watched as Chase, fully dressed, went to the window and pulled the curtain back. “Look, I'm sorry,” he said. “This is my fault too. I shouldn't have slept in this room, dangling temptation in front of us.” Chunks of hail the size of golf balls were falling onto the balcony.

Chase turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall back. “I'm going down to the lobby. Maybe somebody canceled or didn't show up and I can get a room.”

I glanced at the clock on the bed table. “Chase, it's three-thirty in the morning.”

“There's always somebody at the front desk.” He grabbed his coat and the leather bag with his ice packs and ointment. Just before he reached the door, I jumped from the bed and touched his arm. He stopped but did not turn around.

“Are you angry?” I asked.

“No,” he assured me softly. He opened the door. “I just have to get out of here. I'll call you later.”

When the door closed, I stared at it for several minutes. Realization slowly hit me. My man had walked out on me.

At that moment, I thought about a girl I knew in high school who'd been date raped. I'd been furious when she told me the guy didn't stop when she asked him to, told him to, begged him to. She swallowed her embarrassment and took the jerk to court.

But the guy argued, “She led me on. I knew she wanted me to make her feel good, so that's what I did.”

It dawned on me that I had done the same thing now with Chase. I dropped to my knees and sobbed uncontrollably.

It looked like Fawn had been right. What if my actions had damaged Chase's walk with the Lord or poisoned him against me? I had probably caused irreparable harm.

At least thirty minutes passed before I got off my knees. I listened to the hail pelting the balcony and for a brief moment, I pathetically wished I was out there, with ice balls pounding my pitiful body.

I stared at the candles on the fireplace mantel. They had burned so long the wick was gone. The light was completely extinguished. The symbolism frightened me and made me shudder. What if I had done the same thing to my relationship with Chase?

I looked at the bed but knew I wouldn't be able to get back into the place where I had lain with Chase. So, I returned to the pull-out.

“Lord,” I cried out loud. “Why do I feel this way? Why do I want him so badly? Couldn't You just take these feelings away from me? Lord, please don't let this be the end for me and Chase. Oh, Lord, I'm so sorry!”

Part of me knew where the deep sexual desire came from. I could still see me at eleven. I was starting to develop and my mama didn't really like it. “Mr. Jenkins is coming over, girl,” she said. “Go put on something. I plan to give him love; I don't want him lusting for you. Shoot, one day when you get grown, you'll understand how to keep a man. Now, gon'. Shoot, we got to eat. Gon'.”

Though my heart still ached, I found some comfort in talking to God. I prayed that He had heard me, and I hoped that a new day would straighten things out. Finally I drifted off to sleep.

When I opened my eyes just a few hours later, the first thing I saw was the empty bed. The recollection of the previous night's disaster hit me full force.

I checked the clock on the nightstand. Eight
A.M.
Chase had left almost five hours before. I got up, threw on the clothes I'd worn yesterday and looked out the balcony window. A thick carpet of snow covered the ground, but no new flurries or hailstones filled the air.

I picked up the phone and called the front desk. “Please put me through to Chase Farr's room.”

“Sorry, ma'am,” the clerk said coolly. “We don't have a Chase Farr listed.”

“Come on. I know he's in this hotel.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am.”

I sighed. Either the hotel was trying to protect a famous professional athlete from aggressive female fans, or Chase had already checked out.

Finally, I slammed the phone down and then frantically dialed the apartment. When our answering machine came on, I punched in the code to check messages.

“You have two messages,” the machine informed me. The first was from my mother. I hadn't talked to her since the week after I moved to Seattle, when I called to let her know where I was and that I was okay.

“I need to talk to you, Zoe,” my mother's recorded voice said. “It's serious, so please call as soon as you can.”

I did need to call my mother, but I didn't believe there was any real emergency. She was probably being overly dramatic just to get me to call. Besides, talking to her wasn't really important to me at this moment. My priority was to find Chase and try to straighten things out.

I pressed the button and desperately hoped that the second call on the machine was from Chase. I almost dropped the phone when an unfamiliar female voice started speaking.

“Hi, Chase. It's Waverly Phillips. Thanks for dropping me off last night. I don't know what I would have done without you. You truly were my hero. Hey, it was fun cheering for you at the game. Keep up the great work. See you soon.”

“What?” I screamed, slamming down the receiver. I racked my brain trying to remember all of the Storm cheerleaders' names. I was pretty sure Waverly Phillips was one of them.

But cheerleaders didn't go to away games with the team. Who was this chick? Where was Chase? What was going on?

I paced the floor. I needed help. Maybe I should call my mom. But she wouldn't be any help with this. I could never tell her what was going on between me and Chase. She had judged me all my life. I had never been able to measure up to her standards. She was the last person I could count on to give me the help I needed now.

During my childhood, Mom had always been too involved in her life to talk to me, much less offer motherly advice. I had basically raised myself. I loved my mom, and I respected her because she did what she had to do to feed me and my brother. But I knew I wanted a different life for myself.

Still, I wanted to hear her voice. I dialed her number. “Hey, Mom.”

“Zoe, girl, it's about time you called me back. Honey, I really have to see you.”

“Mom, my life is pretty crazy right now,” I said, almost wishing that I hadn't made the call.

“Well, I need you to get home as soon as you can.”

“What about what I need, Mom? Can't we talk about that for once?”

For a moment, nothing but silence crossed the telephone wire. “Okay, baby. Tell me what's on your mind.”

Now that she'd offered, I didn't know where to start.

“I saw that your friend is doing real well at football,” she said, giving me an opening.

My friend.
“Yeah, Mom. Chase is doin' great.” I couldn't say anything else around the lump in my throat.

“You haven't called, so I assumed y'all were doin' real good.” Another pause. “You're being a lady up there, right?”

Bitter words that had been building for years leaped from my throat. I remembered all of those times, after my dad died, when my mother had one guy after another in the house. But no one ever stayed longer than one night. “I learned how to be a lady from you, Mom, so what do you think I'm doing?”

“Zoe!”

I immediately regretted my comment, but I didn't feel the need to take it back. “You know what? This was a bad idea. I knew you wouldn't understand. I'll call you later. I gotta go.”

“But, Zoe, I need to talk to you.”

I heard a knock on the door. “I'll call you back, Mom.” I dropped the receiver onto its base and raced to the door. There stood Chase, looking amazing.

I threw my arms around him. “I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to push.” I wasn't sure what I could say to make it better. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. They held a depth of despair that frightened me. “What is it? What's wrong?”

He came into the room and sat in a chair beside the window. He looked up at me, dejection in his eyes. “I love you, Zoe. But there's no way this can work if we don't put God first. We can't build a relationship on sex. I don't want to lose you, but if that's what it comes down to…”

I sat in the chair next to him. “Chase, I am so sorry for what happened last night. It's just that I have wanted you for so long.”

“I understand. I feel the same way. But my relationship with God is the most important thing to me. I want a wife who walks with God, and, Zoe, I don't know if you do.” He reached for my hand. “Can you understand that?”

I looked down at his fingers entwined in mine. I ached to do more than just hold hands. But I was just happy that he had come back and we were together. I nodded my agreement. “I understand, Chase.”

He smiled. “I hope we can make this work, Zoe.” He kissed me lightly on the cheek. “I do love you, girl.”

The blizzard and hail storm cleared up, and so did my relationship with Chase. I checked out of the hotel and moved back into the apartment, both of us agreeing that we would end the arrangement if either one of us couldn't keep our hormones in check.

Most of the games left in the season were away games, and between that and practices and interviews and public appearances, Chase would be gone quite a bit. And I was busy with my job, so I figured that we could handle it—at least I would try my best.

In addition, Chase got me to agree to something that he was sure would help us.

“We should start going to Bible study.”

“But what about the couples group that we've been going to.”

“That's been good, the few times we've gone. But I think we need a bit more help, don't you?”

I agreed. We hadn't found a church home in Seattle yet, and we needed some sort of spiritual counseling.

On Friday morning, I went with Fawn and Shay to a women's group led by the Storm's chaplain's wife, Amy Wilcox. She asked each of us to talk about how our relationships were going. Fawn openly discussed her marriage, and Shay talked about her engagement. But they'd both known Amy for a while. I felt uncomfortable talking to a stranger about my private life. Especially after the way Fawn had lectured me.

So, I kept my mouth shut—for the most part. I was relieved when Shay announced that she was starting to struggle in the area of sexual purity.

“I just don't know if I can do it. I love Byron so much it just seems natural to go there. Especially since we've finally set the wedding day for Christmas and it's coming soon. But sometimes, it seems like three months is the same as forever. And truthfully, Byron's not helping any. What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, at least you guys live in separate places,” Fawn interjected. “Zoe, I still don't understand how you can stay in that apartment, facing temptation day and night.”

I didn't know how the attention had shifted so quickly to me. “It's not like we share a bed,” I said, crossing my arms. “We don't even share a bedroom.”

“But either of you could sneak into the other one's room easily enough. Besides, it's not just about sex. If you and Chase live together now, what happens if you get married? What will you have to look forward to?”

“I have a lot to look forward to,” I blurted out, knowing I sounded defensive.

“Like what?”

Her comment had caught me so off guard that I couldn't think of any examples at the moment, so I pressed my lips together and remained silent.

Fawn smiled triumphantly. She continued as if her opinion were the only one that counted. “It's a special thing to know that when you walk down that aisle, you are finally going to know everything about the man who has chosen you to go through life with him. But if you've already seen him when he wakes up, brushes his teeth, and all that, you shortchange yourself.”

Shay giggled. “I'm not sure that watching Byron brush his teeth is all that great a thing to look forward to.”

Fawn glared at her.

Amy cleared her throat. “The most important point in what Fawn is saying is that by living together, even if you're not sexually active, you blow your witness to anyone who is trying to see Christ through you. God's Word says we are to flee every appearance of evil.” She turned to me. “I'd hate to see you or your witness ruined, Zoe.”

Her words sounded the same as Fawn's. However, she spoke with compassion and concern, and that left me with no argument.

“The male-female relationship is a difficult one,” Amy continued. “Life is so up and down. If your relationship is not based solidly on Christ, anything can come in its way. A wrong play, a bad day, a lost game. The smallest thing will upset the balance.”

Chase and I got along great, but I remembered a few shaky times when he came home from a game where he hadn't done his best. And when I really thought about it, I'd probably fallen into bad moods after a hard day on the job too. But who didn't?

Amy picked up a light blue paperback. “I'd like to go through a study with you ladies based on this book,” she said. “In order to be a good wife, fiancée or girlfriend, you've got to be confident with who you are in Christ. You can really contribute something special to your relationship if it's founded on Christian principles.”

She handed us copies of the book. I thumbed through mine. It looked complicated. And boring.

“Focus on building a close relationship with God,” Amy continued, “before you try to have a good relationship with your significant other. Then, when the trials come, when unexpected things arise, when the sea gets rough and stormy, you'll have an anchor. And you can
be
an anchor, to encourage your mate when he's down or weak.”

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