Newlywed Games (22 page)

She held up a hand, halting him. “You don’t owe me any explanations. It’s really none of my business. Can we go now?” She tried to sound cool and dispassionate, to somehow mask the wave of anguish washing over her and the tears struggling for release.

“Please, hear me out.” He put his hand on her forearm. “I want to explain.”

She turned to him, drawing her arm from his contact. She gave him a look she hoped said if-you-feel-you-must-I’ll-listen, praying her features revealed none of her true, raw emotions.

He studied her for a moment, then looked down at
his hands. “It was a long time ago with Charmaine. Over three years. I was a different person then. I wasn’t a Christian, and I prided myself on the effect I had on women. I saw nothing wrong with using it to my advantage. I’m not proud of that, Meg, and I’m grateful I’m not that man anymore. But I won’t lie to you about who and what I was.”

His gaze came to meet hers. “But I want you to know I have not been with a woman in the two years since my thirteen-year-old brother showed me the way to Christ. God has changed me in so many amazing ways. I don’t miss that partying womanizer I used to be. It was a lonely life, and I never want to go back to it.”

Meghann stared at him blankly. A partying womanizer. The terms seemed as far from reality as possible when it came to this man. She didn’t doubt his effect on women. How could she, considering the way he affected her every time they were together? But she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried, imagine him using someone that way.

Whatever else she thought, she knew this much was true: Bruce was no longer that man.

He turned back and gripped the wheel again. “ ‘Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a
new creation;
the old has gone, the new has come!’ God reconciled the world to himself in Christ, Meg, not counting
my
sins against
me.
…God made him who had no sin to be sin for
me,
so that in him
I
might become the righteousness of God.”

The passion and determination in his voice moved her deeply. Slowly, inexorably, the tears worked their
way down her cheeks.

“I
am
a new creation. I’ve been given a second chance. Washed by the blood of Jesus. I messed up royally the first time around. I’m doing it right this time.”

Stunned by his honesty, she didn’t know what to say, how to respond. He wasn’t the perfect fantasy she’d concocted in her mind…and he had a past, a history of mistakes. But so did she. And a present full of mistakes as well.

No, Bruce wasn’t perfect, but he was doing his best. He was trusting God’s promises and trying to live a changed life. And that was more powerful than perfection any day. In that moment, as she listened to him pour out his heart to her, Meg loved him so much it hurt.

Realizing her face was probably betraying her every thought, she turned away. She hated being so transparent to him. Could he tell she loved him? Probably. If he returned her feelings, he would have said something. But he said nothing of the kind.

“We should get going.” His tone was weary, resigned. “They’ll be wondering what happened to us.” He turned the key in the ignition and hesitated. “Meghann?” He reached out to lift her chin with a light touch of his finger. The tenderness in his eyes was heart wrenching.

“Ah, Meg…what you do to me.”

His hand cupped her face, and the gentle touch sent shivers coursing through her. She knew he was going to kiss her, and she was glad. She wanted him to do it. Now. Here. With no one around to see them.

But even as she leaned toward him, his hand fell away, and he turned back to grip the steering wheel.

Then, without a word of explanation, he turned the key in the ignition.

Mortified, Meg sat there, gripping her hands together in her lap. She was such an idiot! Why would he even think about kissing her? She was a friend, nothing more. Someone he’d promised to help.

The sooner she got that through her stupid head—and her foolish heart—the better off she’d be.

When they got back to the house, there was a big hullabaloo about where everyone was going to sleep. The first option proposed was for Bruce and Meghann to stay at her place, but Meghann insisted on being near her mother. So she suggested she and her mother could go to her place. Wrong. It seemed everyone wanted to be around Meghann…everyone except Meghann herself.

She just wanted to get away. To be someplace where she wouldn’t have to put on a front for a while. She felt like a favorite toy being fought over.

The final decision was made: Mr. and Mrs. Halloway would take the master bedroom; Meghann and her mother would be in the guest room; and the two brothers were assigned to the living room sofa bed.

The rest of the evening was interminable. Finally Meg saw her escape when Olivia turned to her, concern on her face.

“Dear, are you all right? You don’t look well at all.”

“I’m not.” The first truth she’d uttered in days. “I’m
sick.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she found herself being ushered to bed by two cooing mothers. But for all that, Meg was more weary than she’d ever been in her life—heart weary, soul weary—she couldn’t sleep.

She spent a restless night sharing a room with her mother, thinking about Bruce’s honesty that night. It gave her hope that he could have feelings for her—not love, at least not yet—but someday. But even that filled her with uncertainty, with dread.

Because she knew what she had to do. She had to get up the courage to tell him how she felt about him.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
M
EGHANN SAGGED ON
J
ENNIFER’S
couch. Jennifer had a cozy one-bedroom apartment not far from Meg’s place. Meg had hurried over to catch Jennifer before she went off to work.

“I hope you don’t mind my drying my hair. I still have a job to get ready for,” Jenn said, flicking on the dryer and picking up her styling brush. Meghann got up and stood in the doorway to the bathroom.

“I have a job, too.” At least, the last time she checked she did. After all that had gone on, the way she’d gotten Bruce’s family caught up in this mess…well, she deserved to have him fire her.

“Yeah, but you’re getting paid for staying home.” Jenn worked the brush through her dark, shoulder-length hair as she angled the dryer.

“I’m still working on the ball. Believe it or not, it does take a chunk of my day.” But Meg knew as well as Jennifer that the few hours she was putting in didn’t warrant her pay. More guilt to pile on to her plate. “I didn’t come to talk about work. I have bigger problems.”

“What? Like wheedling a proposal out of Bruce?” She batted her lashes at Meg, then turned back to the mirror with a Cheshire grin.

“No. Bruce’s parents and brother showed up last night.”

Jennifer switched off the dryer and turned to her with her mouth in a surprised O. “Your
in-laws
are here?”

“They
aren’t
my in-laws.”

“Close enough. And maybe with any luck they will be someday.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Jenn, this is serious. Now I’m lying to his family, too.”

“Ah, yes, but apparently Prince Charming didn’t tell them the truth, either.” She seemed intrigued by this information.

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh, Meg, lighten up! Why are you taking all this so seriously?”

“Why don’t you take
anything
seriously?” Meg snapped back. “What am I going to do now? I never should have let you talk me into this.”

“Fine, blame all your troubles on me,” she said, holding up her hands, waving her blow dryer and brush around. “See if I care. But answer me this, why did you take my advice if it was so awful? You could have told your mom the truth. I didn’t exactly hold a weapon to your head and force you into this little charade.”

Meghann opened her mouth for a retort…but there was none. Her friend was absolutely right. She was the one who’d given in to the urge to lie. She was the one
who’d passed by opportunity after opportunity to set things right.

Nobody else.

Just her.

“I rest my case.” Jennifer set down her dryer. “Now, answer me one more. Is your mom improving or not?”

“Well, yes.” It was true. Her mother had most of her color back, and she didn’t need to sleep as much.

“Well, then, I rest my case. Clearly what you’re doing is for the best. Besides, you’ve only got a few days and Bruce’s family hits the road. Then soon your mom will go home, and you and Bruce can go back to your lives. No harm, no foul.”

Jenn looked so pleased with herself that Meg didn’t have the heart to argue. But deep inside—where she felt the constant struggle, the tug to do what she knew was right no matter how terrifying it might be—she knew her friend was wrong. Flat wrong.

There was a great deal of harm taking place. To Bruce. To Meg’s heart. Maybe even to her spirit.

She just didn’t know what to do about it.

Later that afternoon, Bruce came home, opening his front door with care, wondering what kind of greeting he’d receive from Meghann. He had worked diligently straight through lunch so he could come home early to see her.

It hadn’t been easy to tell her those things last night, to let her see his imperfections, his weaknesses. But when she’d listened so intently, when he’d seen the
understanding in her eyes, he’d almost lost control. It was only God’s grace that had held him back, kept him from taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless. Kept him from proposing to her on the spot.

All day long he’d thought about her, wondered what she was thinking, how she was feeling about what he’d said. And he’d prayed. Asked God to show them a way out of the mess they’d made for themselves. Asked him to salvage their relationship from the disaster they’d created.

Now what he wanted to do was see her.

Looking around, he found the usually overcrowded apartment empty, except for his pseudo-mother-in-law in the kitchen brewing some tea. “Where did everybody go?”

Gayle stirred a half a teaspoon of sugar and a dab of milk in her cup. “Your father had some urgent business to take care of. He dropped your mom off at the hairdresser’s on his way and will pick her up when he is done. And Brock went with Meghann to the house to feed Lucky.”

“Brock is with Meghann?” He didn’t realize he spoke the words aloud until Gayle placed her hand on his forearm.

“Don’t look so worried. He just wants to get to know his new sister-in-law. Those two get along great.”

Her words hit him like a roundhouse punch. He had the urge to run after them and snatch Meg away from his brother, to take her somewhere remote out of reach of any man who would steal her from him.

“Relax,” she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
Gayle’s expression told him she knew things weren’t quite right between him and her daughter. If she only knew how wrong they were.

He couldn’t relax. If he weren’t careful, he would lose her. She could slip right through his fingers. He had to talk with her, tell her how he felt, ask her outright if there was anything for them beyond their little masquerade.

He hoped so. Prayed so. If not, he knew without a doubt that it would take a lifetime to get over Meghann.

But would confessing his love for her be enough? Not if she didn’t feel the same way. He had to think of something else. But what? If only she loved him.…But as often as not, she was nervous and tense whenever they were alone, as though she’d rather be around other people.

Well, there were plenty of people to keep her occupied…not the least of which was good old Brock.

Bruce needed time.…

“There’s something I have to do.” He gave Gayle a quick peck on the cheek and rushed out the door.

Meg shifted uneasily on the porch step.

Brock had asked if he could accompany her to check on Lucky. There had been a tense encounter between Brock and his father over the length of Brock’s unruly hair. Meg couldn’t understand why Bruce’s father didn’t just leave him alone. Yes, his hair was long, but that was hardly something to be ashamed of nowadays. Besides, he always kept it neat and it fit him:
unconventional, yet attractive.

“Tell me about Bruce,” Meghann said to Brock as they sat on her back porch.

“Does your dog play fetch?” Brock toyed with a worn tennis ball.

“She loves it. But I must warn you, you will wear out long before she does.”

If he didn’t want to answer her question about Bruce, that was fine. She had noticed a strain between the two brothers.

He lobbed the ball across the yard. Lucky reached the spot before the ball and caught it after the first bounce. She raced back and he threw it again.

“What do you want to know?” Brock finally said to her.

“About his childhood. What he was like in high school. Stuff like that.”

“I suppose he was a typical big brother, pushy, telling others what to do. I recall being forced to bow down to him a time or two,” he said with a chuckle.

As an only child, Meg had pretended all the time that she had siblings. But even as a child she’d known it wasn’t the same, that she was missing out on something. She’d watched her friends with their brothers and sisters, saw how they fought and called each other names, but at least they weren’t lonely.