Loving Lily Lavender (5 page)

“I’m sure he’s not, or he would’ve mentioned it. And that sounds
delicious, by the way. You keep cooking meals like that for him and he’ll fall
in love with you for sure.”

“Oh! Would you go out back and start the grill for me please?”

“Sure.”

I reached under my kitchen cabinet to my CD player and hit play.
The song “YMCA” had just begun and I danced around and made the hand signals
while I chopped my veggies, careful not to chop anything off
. I’d like to
see the doctor’s face when I explained that one.

When Meagan returned she grimaced, “This again, you’re the only
person I know who dances to disco while cooking.”

“That’s not true—I also dance to the 80’s, and I bet Paula Dean
dances sometimes when she cooks, or at least sings. Why wouldn’t she? She’s
having fun just like me. Now go home!”

“Fine, but I want you to call me tomorrow and tell me everything,
okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Everything looks beautiful and so do you,” she remarked as she
hugged me goodbye.

“Thanks. I love you too.”

It was 6:58 when I heard the front doorbell ring, and I
practically killed myself running down the long hall. When I got to the door I
stopped, straightened my clothes, smoothed my hair, and checked my breath. When
everything seemed to be in order, I took a moment to count to ten, something
that often helped my nerves when I was feeling anxious, then opened the door. I
was stunned yet again as I studied the man before me. He stood there looking
just as handsome as I remembered from the night before, except something was
different. Oh, he had shaven—nice. He was also wearing fitted khakis and a blue
button up shirt, though the color blue was a slightly lighter shade.

“Good evening, Lilianna.” He greeted me with a dazzling smile
.
Oh wow
. I thought my heart would stop beating right then and there. His
smile was breathtaking, and I noted how elegant my long name sounded being
spoken in his glorious accent
.

“Please, call me Lily,” I breathed.

“But Lilianna is such a beautiful and rare name. I like it.”

“Oh, well thank you. Hey, we match.” I laughed, pointing to our
clothing.

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘great minds think alike’?”

“Yes, I believe I have heard that before,” I teased. “Please come
in.”

He followed me down the hall and into the dining room. “Thank
you, Lucas, for the gorgeous flowers, by the way. They really made my day, and
it was a very sweet gesture.”

“You’re welcome. I was hoping they would make you smile. I see
that they
are
very beautiful—just as you are tonight,” he said, looking
at me intently. He walked over to me, put his hands on my waist and whispered,
“Very beautiful.” Then he leaned his head down and pressed his lips to mine.
Too soon he released me and stepped back. “Mmm, something smells delicious.”

“Oh yes, well I hope you’re hungry and not a vegetarian.” I
looked at him, questioning.

“No, I’m not a vegetarian. I love cheeseburgers too much.” He rubbed
his hands over his flat stomach and smiled.

“Good to know. I cook a mean cheeseburger.” I laughed and he
giggled too, a cute sound, a sound that showed his innocence and vulnerability.
I liked it.

When we finished eating, he gladly offered to help me with the
dishes, which I adamantly refused. He made several comments on how delicious
the meal was and how he hadn’t had such good cooking since the last meal his
mom cooked for him.

He missed his mom, or mum, as he called her. I could tell by his
tone when he spoke of her. He sat at the bar and talked to me while I cleaned
up and loaded the dishwasher before grabbing our coffee and heading for the
den. We sat on the sofa in front of the fire. Even though it was early June,
the evening was chilly, and I thought the fire would create a romantic mood. I
was right.

He took my hand gently in his. “So, Lily, last night I did most
of the talking. Now I’d like to hear all about you.”

“Oh, okay. Where to begin? Well, my mom, Elaine, was raised in
this house. She was the youngest of six children. She married my dad when she
was in her twenties. He was in shipping and traveled a lot, so she went with
him. After many miscarriages, four I think, they realized they probably weren’t
going to have children, so they settled down in Italy. They lived there for
almost ten years.

“One day they received news that my grandmother had passed away,
so they came home for the funeral. My grandfather had died five years prior, so
unless someone wanted the house, they were going to sell it. None of the others
wanted it because their lives were elsewhere. My mom couldn’t bear to see the
house go, so she convinced my father to stay. They moved right in, and soon
after, she became pregnant with me. She was in her forties, forty-six, I think.

“I had a great childhood. My parents made sure I was well
rounded. We went to church. I took dance classes, horseback riding, and helped
my mother in the garden. We also took lots of trips together.

“Then, when I was in third grade, Meagan moved here, and we
quickly became the best of friends. Her family was a little chaotic, to say the
least. Her parents fought frequently, so she spent a lot of time with us. She
loved my parents like they were her own. She’s more of a sister to me than a
friend.

“I didn’t date much. Rumors spread that I wouldn’t sleep around,
but that didn’t bother me. I’ve never really cared much about what people
thought of me. I did have a boyfriend in college though, one of the most
popular boys on campus. I wasn’t really interested in him at first, but he was
very persistent, and I admired that quality in him. We dated for a few months,
but then he slowly started pressuring me about sex and pushing his limits,
sometimes even getting angry. One night when we were out together, he slipped
something in my soda and I got sick. Well, I don’t know for sure if it was him,
but my roommate became suspicious when he showed up at my room later that
night. He hadn’t expected her to be there, and she said he was acting strange.
Despite the fact that I couldn’t be sure, I refused to date someone I didn’t
trust, so the next day I broke up with him.

“After my first year of college, I began feeling like I was
headed in the wrong direction, so I came home one weekend and counseled with my
parents. By the end of the weekend, I had changed direction. Psychology was out
and wedding planning became the plan for my future.”

I continued to tell my story of working at Russ’s, building my
business, my father’s death, my mother’s sickness, and the last of my nonexistent
love life, until there was nothing left to tell.

“So,” he said after a brief pause, “you really don’t care what
people think about you?”

“No, not really. I guess I’ve always felt confident in who I am.
I’ve never really needed anyone’s approval. Not in the big things anyway. I
hope that doesn’t sound arrogant. I don’t mean it that way.”

“No, it doesn’t. I admire that quality in you. I wish I were more
like you in that sense.” I couldn’t understand why, but he sounded a little sad
when he said that.

“Lucas, look at me.” I gently lifted his face until his eyes met
mine. “Confidence isn’t something you’re born with. It’s something you gain
over time by surrounding yourself with positive, encouraging people, and making
good choices, such as avoiding reading the tabloids,” I teased, lightening the
mood.

He chuckled, such a sweet sound. It warmed my heart, and I found
myself leaning over and kissing his cheek. When I pulled away, he put his hand
on the back of my head and pulled me closer, gently touching his lips to mine.
He put his arms around me, pulling me against him. Our lips moved in harmony
and our breathing escalated. A moan involuntarily escaped my lips, and he
quickly, but gently, pulled away.

“We should probably stop,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Um, Lucas, before this goes any
further there’s something I should tell you.”

He looked slightly alarmed. “Yes?”

“I’m—” I paused, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden, though
I’m not sure why. I guess secretly I was hoping he wouldn’t reject me, although
I’ve never cared what people thought before, but somehow this was different. I
took a deep breath
.
“Here’s the thing—” I paused again. I couldn’t
believe how nervous I was.
Okay, out with it already.
“I’m a Christian,”
I finally said point blank. When he didn’t respond I continued. “I hope this
won’t affect our friendship. I would never try to pressure you into believing
in my faith. If you ever begin to feel that way please tell me. The last thing
I would ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable. And I’m not a
judgmental person either.”

“Lily, it’s okay. It doesn’t surprise me. Anyone who listens to
you for any length of time can tell you have a faith. I don’t feel
uncomfortable. In fact, I haven’t felt this comfortable with anyone in a while.
It’s nice to be myself and to be accepted for who I am without all the
pressure. So why wouldn’t I accept you?”

I sighed in relief. “Good. I really appreciate that. So, would
you like some dessert now? It’s a special recipe I make sometimes for my
wedding rehearsals.”

“You bake for your weddings too?”

“Only when they ask me to.” I smiled.

“Well, to answer your question, I would love some dessert.”

We spent the rest of the night talking and eating and talking
some more. It was amazing how easy he was to talk to and how comfortable I felt
with him.

He shared with me all about his childhood and growing up in
London, his modeling as a child, performing on stage, and his love for music.
He loved to play the guitar and piano, along with singing, though he admitted
his voice was a bit unique. He preferred to sing the blues and promised to play
for me sometime.

Before long we were at the front door saying goodnight. “I had a
great time tonight. Your home is lovely and very inviting. It sort of reminds
me of my home in London. And the food was amazing, but it doesn’t surprise me
that you’re a good cook. Oh, and thank you for the dessert,” he said, raising
his to-go bag.

“You’re welcome. I had a nice time too.”

He leaned down and kissed me. “Goodnight,” he murmured.

“Goodnight.”

He turned and walked across the porch. I started to shut the door
when suddenly he was standing in the doorway, holding the door open. “Can we do
this again tomorrow night?” he asked nervously.

I smiled. “Absobloodylootely.”

He smiled a sheepish smile, stumbling over his feet as he backed
up. “Great, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I continued smiling as I shut the door.

The next morning, though it was early, I called Meagan as soon as
I was up and had my coffee in hand. She sounded groggy and confused. “Hey, Meg,
it’s me. Is it too early to call?”

She yawned. “Of course not. I love waking up before God. So how’d
it go last night?”

I filled her in on every little detail right down to the
goodnight kiss, just like I promised. “He seems so lost,” I began, “all of his family
is in London. He’s been thrust into stardom, which he never expected. Girls
everywhere are in love with him. Everyone wants something from him. He’s very
overwhelmed. I feel sorry for him, and I’d like to help him.”

“Oh no. You sound like a little girl who’s found a lost puppy and
wants to keep him. Lily, you have to be careful. This guy could break your
heart. You can’t change him. That’s not your job. He’s famous for cryin’ out
loud, and he’s leaving in less than two weeks.”

“I know. Do you really think I’m trying to change him?”

“Not intentionally. I think you feel like you can help him, but
I’m not sure you should try. I just don’t want to see you to get hurt,” she
finally declared.

“I know, but I think I know what I’m doing. Besides, who knows,
maybe he’ll fall in love with me and decide to stay.” There was a brief pause
before we both burst into laughter.

“I’ll see you at church,” I said, snapping the phone closed.

I decided to make my grandmother’s famous stew for dinner since I
was going to be gone all day, first to church and then to visit my mother. I
put all the ingredients in the slow cooker to be cooking in my absence. Then,
by the time I got home, it would be ready—genius.

I made regular visits to see my mom every Sunday after church. It
was an hour-long drive one way, so by the time I arrived back at home it was
after five.

I hurried into the house, checking on the stew before heading up
to my room to change. This time I opted for comfort, choosing my favorite blue
jeans and a white blouse. I brushed my teeth, freshened my makeup, and ran a
brush through my long, wavy, blond locks, thinking it was past time for a trim.
Even though I was in a hurry I couldn’t help but think of a certain little girl
every time I brushed my hair, looking in the mirror at the curls that at one
time in my life I hated more than anything.

I was seven, and it was my first year at summer camp. Even though
I was accompanied by others from my church, I was nervous about being away from
home for the first time in my short life.

I remember the moment I saw her. She was taking a drink from the
water fountain, and she didn’t have to hold her hair back like the rest of us
did, because she didn’t have any hair. She was totally bald. My first thought
was she must be sick, but no one seemed to be treating her with extra
gentleness, so my curiosity was peeked. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but
I didn’t have the guts….and I was really homesick.

I was sitting on the bunk bed alone and crying when she came
through the door and spotted me.

“Hey,” she said. “Homesick?”

I lowered my head and nodded.