Cherished (30 page)

Cedric chuckled. “Dude's antenna went up. He's checking up on you.”

“And staking a claim, I'd say,” Lindell said.

Cyd laughed. “You guys, cut it out. You've barely met the guy, and you think you've got him figured out.”

“So what's the deal, Kel?” Cedric asked, looking to make sure Miles wasn't near. “I know you've been with the guy awhile, but how special is he?”

“Very.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Brian's not the only person who'll ever be special in my life.”

Cedric looked incredulously at the others. “Did I say anything about Brian?”

“You implied it. Just give Miles a chance.”

Cedric lifted his hands, grinning. “Absolutely!” He leaned in closer. “He's living right, though . . . right? 'Cause dude ain't staying at the house otherwise. Cyd told me y'all talked about him taking the sleep sofa.”

“He didn't mention booking a hotel, so I figure he needs a place to stay. And it'll be fine. He knows the boundaries I've put up, and he's always respected—”

Stephanie gave her a look, and Kelli clammed up.

Miles took the empty chair next to Kelli and pulled up to the table. Seeing their party complete, the server stopped to take their order. Miles bowed to the recommendations of the others as to which pizzas were good.

Cyd smiled at him when the server had gone. “So you grew up in Dallas, Miles?”

“Yes, in Plano. My parents both work for Texas Instruments, and I've followed in their footsteps, I guess.”

“Sounds great,” Cedric said. “What do you do for them?”

“Information systems. Your job sounds great too,” he added. “VP of an executive search firm? Hopefully I'll move high enough up the ranks in corporate America to use your services one day.”

Cedric sipped his Coke. “I have no doubt.”

Miles turned to Kelli. “So you finished your first week on the job. Haven't had a chance to ask how it went.”

“Real well. I love the project I'm working on, which happens to be for a ministry Cedric had a hand in starting.”

“And what's the plan? You'll keep looking for a real PR position while you're doing that?”

Kelli's brow wrinkled. “This
is
a real position, in communications.”

“Well, I mean it's part-time, and it's at a church . . . I'm assuming you still want a position at a boutique PR firm or corporation to start your career.”

“Actually, Miles,” Cedric said, “just so you know, Living Word is a church of thousands. Its ministries reach around the globe. The experience Kelli's gaining there is a fabulous start to her career.”

“Sounds like a mini-corporation,” Miles said. “I didn't realize it was that big.”

Even if it weren't .
. . Kelli chewed a piece of ice, slightly irked. She'd seen glimpses of this, Miles measuring a person's worth based on his or her career, but he'd never done it to her. Maybe he just wanted the best for her, what he perceived to be the best anyway.

“Soooo, Miles,” Stephanie said, “what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I'm an admitted workaholic, but when I can, I love to golf.”

Lindell leaned forward. “Seriously? I took it up last year. If you're up for it, we can hit the links tomorrow while Kelli's in the studi—
ow
!” He looked at Stephanie, who pretended she didn't have a clue why.

Everyone but Miles was suddenly thirsty.

He looked at her. “That's what you have to do tomorrow? Something in a studio? Is it job related?”

She set her glass down. “It's . . . another project I'm working on. But I'll definitely explain it all . . . later.” She smiled at him. “Promise.”

K
ELLI AND
C
YD STOOD ON EITHER SIDE OF THE SLEEP
sofa mattress, tucking their ends of the blanket. Cyd placed a pillow at the head of the bed.

“I've got another blanket if you need it,” Cyd said. “Even when we adjust the A/C, it seems to stay cold in here—Reese, get down.” Cyd nudged her off the mattress. “Oh, and I put towels in that chair for you.”

“Everything is perfect,” Miles said. “You've gone above and beyond with the hospitality”—he cast a playful glance at Kelli— “especially given this was last minute. Thank you.”

“No problem at all,” Cyd said. “And you're welcome.”

Cedric spoke up. “There's a caveat to all this, though.”

Kelli shot a
don't-embarrass-me
look at her brother.

Cedric tipped his head toward the family room doorway. “Those stairs that lead to Kelli's bedroom? They creak. Loudly.”

Cyd pushed him toward those stairs. “Come on, Mr. London.” She smiled over her shoulder. “Good night, you two.”

Kelli heard him mumble, “Just kidding,” as they went out the door.

After they'd gone upstairs, she sat on the love seat and took a breath. “So, I said we'd talk later about tomorrow.”

Miles joined her. “I was starting to think it was a big mystery. What's the deal with you and the studio?”

“I'm working on an album project, collaborating on some songs.”

His surprise showed in his hesitation. “Collaborating how? Like . . . writing?”

“Writing and also singing.”

“When did you get interested in music? I've never heard you talk about writing songs. For that matter, I've never heard you sing.”

She almost felt guilty. She never intended to lock away the deep things of her heart from Miles. She was simply avoiding them altogether. “I actually started writing songs in high school. Sang in the church choir too. But in college I put music aside.” She shrugged, hoping that would make it no big deal.

He looked intently at her, clearly pondering. “And in the short time you've been back in St. Louis, you've suddenly jumped into an album project? That's huge. How did it happen? And why am I just now hearing about it?”

She sighed inside. Such fat open-ended questions that made it next to impossible to avoid the word
Brian
. “Well . . . a little hard to explain . . . The opportunity came about because of Brian. He's the one I'm working with.”

“I
knew
you were spending time with him, your . . . high-school sweetheart.”

“I never called him that.”

“That's what he was, wasn't he?”

“We were friends—”

“Who dated.”

“Eons ago. Now we're just working together on a limited basis.”

“I must be missing something.” He stroked his chin. “How are you two working on an album? Is he a producer? A singer?”

“He's a Christian rapper.”

“A
rapper
? You can't be serious.”

Kelli wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she didn't like it. Now that she'd been working with Brian, she saw firsthand the depth of ministry he poured into it. Was Miles minimizing that?

“
Christian
rapper. The lyrics are all about the Gospel, our relationship with Jesus, how to live out the Word of God.”

“Okay, whatever . . .”

Whatever?

“So you're helping him write his raps or what? Are you rapping too?”

“I'm writing the chorus part of the songs—the ‘hook'—and singing it as well.”

“Sounds like you two are Sonny and Cher.”

“Miles, I know you may not get what we're doing, and I do apologize for not telling you sooner, but this has become an important work to me.” She hadn't realized how important until the words came out of her mouth. “We're under a deadline and need to work tomorrow.”

He retreated into his thoughts. Then, “Why do I feel I'm being played for a fool? You've been working with your old boyfriend all this time but haven't told me. And I'll bet you've been doing more than work. You were at Six Flags together, weren't you?”

“He was among the group of friends, yes.”

“You're falling for him again.”

“No, I'm not. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd think there was more to it than there is.”

Miles stared at her. “I hope you're being straight with me, Kelli. Because if you want to be with Brian, just tell me and I'll back away.”

Kelli held his gaze. “I don't want to be with Brian, Miles. I'm here with you. I'm right where I want to be.”

twenty-seven

B
RIAN WAS SURPRISED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE
progressing. With Romeo in town, he was sure Kelli would be distracted and want to cut short the session. Instead they started early and had been on a roll, so much so that Kelli had called Cyd and Heather to ask if they could delay the start of Bible study by an hour.

They'd finished the love letters to young men and women and were well on their way with another—one to “the least of these,” people devastated by natural disasters. This one was Brian's idea. He'd been rocked by images of Haiti after the earthquake hit, but school obligations had made it hard to respond in a tangible way.

He paused his work on the song to look over at Kelli, who was piecing together a melody at her keyboard—a welcome addition to the studio. She'd decided to keep it, with strong encouragement from her family and Brian. He loved watching her in her element—totally engrossed, creating. Today she reminded him of the high-school Kelli, hair clipped in the back of her head, pieces falling down, face free of makeup, wearing a plain shirt, walking shorts, and flip-flops. She was beautiful.

Kelli paused her playing. “Forgot to tell you,” she said. “I'm thinking through an idea for the love letter to our baby.”

His heart skipped. That song was such a part of him. “What are you thinking?”

“Your album releases about the same time the Choices ministry kicks off, and we're looking to feature a story for the Choices video. In my mind's eye, I can see you telling your story, with lighting that coincides with the mood. For example, your face would be partially hidden in shadow as you share the choices you made.” She used her hands to illustrate. “The scene would switch throughout from you to actors who dramatize what you're sharing, but we'd still hear your voice. Near the end, as you share what God did in your heart and the mercy you found, the light will get brighter and ‘I Will Love You' will play. I see a burst of blue sky, the redemptive nature of the story shining.”

Brian could see it too as Kelli spoke. The thought of telling his story still brought some trepidation, but what she described stirred his heart. “So you're thinking we'd film the video and use it for the Choices ministry?”

“Right. We can put it on the ministry's website and also on your website, YouTube, and elsewhere. I'll talk to Doug to make sure there wouldn't be a problem.”

Brian chewed his lip, nodding. “I like the Choices framework. I'd start the story at the innocence of our friendship, then the choice to go down an intimate path.” He looked away for a moment, then at her again. “You were right, Kelli. We should've stayed best friends, nothing more. Then I wouldn't have had an opportunity to hurt you like I did.”

Kelli only stared at him, their eyes conveying the history in their souls.

“And then,” he continued, “we'd take it through to that final choice I made to walk away from you and our baby.” He closed his eyes. Every time he thought he'd felt the last of that pain, it came roaring back again.

Kelli got up and walked over to him. “That wasn't the final choice, Brian. That's not where the video will end. The final choice was turning back to God.”

He looked up at her, flicking a tear from his eye. His head fell again.

“I haven't said this yet, Brian, but I forgive you. I do. I forgive you.”

A dam broke in his soul and rivers gushed forth, of mercy and even joy. If he and Kelli never had anything more, her forgiveness was a treasure he could hold on to. He stood, and she allowed him to hold her as he wept into her hair. “I'm sorry, Kel. I'm so sorry.”

“Brian, I know. You don't have to keep saying it. I forgive you.”

“I just wish I had treated you like you deserved to be treated, of supreme value. You know? I wish I had cherished you.”

The word traveled from his mouth to the depths of his heart to a loading zone in his brain as he tried to grasp it—
cherished
. He'd said it without thinking. Why was it blazing in his mind now?

“We don't have to keep torturing ourselves about the past, Brian. I'm thankful I finally see that.” She backed gently from his embrace and looked at him. “Can we pray together right now that God will use our story, our choices, to affect the choices of many others for the good?”

Brian got on his knees, Kelli with him, and they prayed. And somehow in the midst of their prayers, in the outer reaches of his mind and heart, Brian got a glimpse of that word again—
cherished
— and a plan that was awakening in his heart.