Texas Weddings 3 & 4 (19 page)
Kent shivered against the cold as he strapped Charity into
her car seat. She awoke for just a moment then promptly fell asleep again. As
he settled into the driver’s seat, Kent reflected on his mother’s curiosity.
Her eyes had been full of questions, but Kent couldn’t bring himself to give
answers.
At
least not yet.
At 3:15 a.m. Kent sat at his computer, trying to compose a
poem. The idea had come to him after crawling into bed at two.
I don’t have a present for Shauna.
What can I give her?
He had struggled
with the question for over an hour before he climbed out of bed and dragged
himself to the computer.
“I’m not very good at putting things down on
paper.”
Had he really said those words
to Shauna as they stood in front of the computer store? What, then, would
compel him to think he might now be able to compose a poem, of all things?
And yet, the idea
wouldn’t leave him alone. His heart might very well erupt from his chest if he
didn’t get these feelings out.
And the sooner, the better.
He typed a few words then backspaced with a rapid
tap,
tap,
tap
to get rid of the nonsense.
Once again, he tried and, once again, he ended up wiping all of it away.
“How can I begin to
tell her in one poem what I can’t even formulate in my head?” he mumbled. “None
of this makes sense to me, and if it doesn’t make sense to me, it sure won’t to
her.” And yet he must say something. Otherwise, he might never sleep again.
After a few moments of prayer and introspection, Kent began
to type once more.
How can I
begin to
send
A message I
can’t comprehend?
Mere words
could simply not convey
My heart’s
true hopes or dreams today.
When your
lovely face appears
This coward
turns away in fear.
If courage
would rise up in me
My heart could
surely speak its piece.
And so I send
with Christmas cheer
This message,
cryptic and unclear
For if I did
reveal my mind
You might,
within, the real truth find.
He stared at the page,
trying to figure out a title. The words, ‘Cryptic Message’ seemed to type
themselves at the top of the document.
Now to figure out how
to sign the silly thing.
“With love?” “Cordially?” “Sincerely?” He
settled on, “In Christ’s love, Kent Chapman.”
With a click, he sent
the document out, out, out—across the Internet and into her waiting
inbox. He leaned back against his chair, wishing, for a moment, he could take
it back, wishing he could
unsend
it.
Just as quickly, he thanked God for giving him the courage
to press the
send
button. Only one
problem remained—how to breathe until she responded.
***
Shauna awoke on Christmas morning with a peace she hadn’t
felt in years. This overwhelming sense of peace intermingled with a heady joy
as she contemplated her newly discovered feelings for Kent Chapman. What an
amazing Christmas gift—to experience love, real love. And how wonderful
to imagine the Christ of Christmas might be so loving and gracious as to give
her the desires of her heart.
Shauna’s spirit carried the songs of the night before. The
words ran over and over in her mind, and she felt truly free in her spirit.
“All is calm, all is bright.” Yes, everything did seem calmer today. And her
thoughts were crystal clear. She had fallen in love with Kent Chapman—not
just the “Twenty-first Century Pastor,” not just the father of a precocious
little girl—but the man. And once the presents were opened and dinner
eaten, she would find a way to let him know. Surely he felt the same.
Otherwise, the Lord would not have given her such a peace.
The morning moved on much as
their
Christmases past. She and her parents opened presents together after reading
the Christmas story from the Bible—tradition they had begun when she was
a little girl. Then her aunts, uncles, and cousins began to arrive.
With a houseful of people to contend with, she had little
time to think about what she would say to Kent when the opportunity afforded
itself. But later that afternoon, as the crowd dwindled down, Shauna headed off
to the computer, convinced she could no longer put off the inevitable. She must
compose a letter to Kent Chapman. What she had to say could best be said on
paper. If she tried to speak the words in person, she would likely stumble all
over herself.
Her computer seemed
slow to boot up and moved even slower when she tried to open her E-mail inbox.
For some reason, the whole thing locked up and would not function at all.
Frustrated, she shut the computer down and rebooted. Immediately, the virus
scanner picked up a problem. She let the software scan the machine, horrified
to discover a virus from a recent E-mail. The words
Cryptic Message
appeared in the subject box, but the rest had been
scrambled. The whole thing looked like nothing but gibberish. Had someone tried
to sabotage her computer?
A hacker, perhaps?
Shauna quarantined the virus, but still the problem
persisted. The machine continued to lock up, finally freezing altogether. Two
more times she shut down the computer and rebooted, but never made it past the
front screen without everything coming to a standstill.
Disappointed, she
turned the computer off for the last time. Now what? Should she call Kent? Then
again, how could she disturb him on Christmas? He would be spending the day
with family. And, come to think of it, that’s probably what she should be doing
right now, as well.
Shauna headed back out
into the living room and joined her mother and father for a quiet conversation
in front of the fireplace. They told stories of Christmases gone by and laughed
at a few of the presents their relatives had brought. They nibbled at pieces of
pie and sipped cups of hot chocolate. Her father eventually dozed off in his
chair, and her mother picked up a book to read.
As drowsiness set in, Shauna stumbled into bed for a long,
well-deserved nap. She didn’t bother changing into nightclothes, convinced she
would only close her eyes for a few glorious minutes.
She awoke to sunlight streaming through the window. Groggy
and confused, she rubbed at her eyes. Her gaze shifted to the alarm clock, and
she nearly came out of her skin.
“You’ve got to be
kidding me.” She sat up in the bed as she realized the clock read 6:25 a.m. “I
slept through the night? No way!” She sprang from the bed and flew into action.
Thirty-five minutes later she arrived at the day care, eyes still heavy from
sleep and heart still heavy from not speaking to Kent.
***
On the morning after Christmas, Kent could no longer contain
himself. He signed onto the computer and checked his E-mail. He didn’t find a
letter or a response of any kind from Shauna. His chest tightened as he
realized she must have read his poem and ignored it altogether.
Maybe she sat at her computer this very
minute, trying to compose a “thanks-but-no-thanks” letter. Kent let his
imagination run wild, nearly making himself sick over the whole
thing—sicker still as he checked his other E-mails.
Just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse,
Kent discovered a message in his inbox from Shauna’s Internet provider.
According to the note, he had somehow sent Shauna’s computer a virus—and
not just any virus, but the latest, most volatile one to date.
Kent scratched his head, trying to make sense of all of
this. How in the world could he have contaminated her computer when his machine
was virus-free? He ran his scanner and quickly discovered the problem. A random
junk E-mail he had opened briefly on Christmas Eve night had apparently been
infected with the potent bug. Kent tossed the E-mail, but the virus had
remained, worming its way onto his hard drive. Without knowing it, he had
inadvertently contaminated not just his own computer, but hers, as well.
Horrified, Kent struggled to figure out what to do. He tried
to quarantine the virus, but the crazy thing seemed to have a mind of its own.
The computer screen began to flash and he couldn’t seem to control the mouse.
He tried shutting down and rebooting, but that didn’t seem to accomplish
anything. The problem persisted. With the screen bouncing all over the place,
he stood and considered his options.
I could reformat the hard drive and start over, but then I’d
lose all of my files. Or maybe I could quickly back up the files, even though
the computer is acting up. Maybe it’s not too late.
He attempted to do so but met with problem after problem. By
the time he finished fighting with the machine, Kent had to conclude the
obvious. There was nothing he could do. Not only had he lost the opportunity to
share his heart with Shauna, he might very well have lost all of his sermon
notes and personal files, as well. Taking the computer back to the repair shop
appeared to be the only solution. Surely they would know what to do.
The following afternoon, Kent pulled into the parking lot of
Computers Unlimited. He glanced at his watch and whispered a prayer that the
store would still be open. 4:59 p.m. Surely someone would still be here.
If only his meeting at church hadn’t lasted so long, he
might have gotten off to an earlier start. If only he had remembered to put gas
in his car this morning, he might not have had to stop minutes ago. And if only
he could stop thinking about Shauna Alexander every waking moment, he might
then remember how to do the everyday things like eat, sleep, and breathe.
Kent walked to the back of his car and opened the trunk,
then gave the computer a hard stare.
I
ought to toss the crazy machine into the nearest dumpster and buy a new laptop.
If not for the files he needed to save, he would do just that. Instead, he
scooped the PC up into his arms and closed the trunk with his elbow. He made it
to the door just as Bill Conner, the store manager, reached to lock it.
“Please?” Kent mouthed the word through the glass.
Bill nodded and opened the door. In less than a minute, Kent
explained the problem and handed the machine over once again. Mr. Conner tagged
the PC and promised this time he would not send it home with the wrong owner.
Kent couldn’t help but chuckle. The laughter relaxed him a little, and he was
reminded that nothing—not even the breakdown of his computer—could
spoil this day unless he let it.
And the day was far from over. With the machine safely
handed off, he must head home through evening traffic, have dinner with his
daughter, and then do the one thing he had been terrified to do since Christmas
Eve—call Shauna Alexander.
Kent walked back out to the parking lot, unable to shake the
feeling that something was wrong. As he approached the car, the horrible moment
of revelation came. “My keys.” They weren’t in his pocket. He scrambled to
check the other pocket. Nothing.
He sprinted back to the store, rapping on the door. The
frustrated store manager opened it once again, and Kent apologized then began a
frantic search for the keys.
“When was the last time you saw them?” Mr. Conner asked as
he joined in the search.
“
Um.
. .” Kent thought about that
for a minute. “I used them to open the trunk.”
“And then?”
“And then
I.
. .” Kent groaned as
he realized what must have happened. “I’ll bet I set them down inside the trunk
when I went to pick up the computer. “And then
I.
. .”
I closed the trunk with my elbow. I
remember. The keys are locked in the trunk.
He slapped himself in the head
and leaned against the counter.
Mr. Conner’s expression softened. “Do you need to use my
phone to call someone? I don’t mind.” He gestured toward the phone on the
counter near the register.
“I guess so.” Kent quickly dialed his mother’s number,
praying she would answer quickly. Only when the answering machine picked up did
he remember she and Andrew had prior plans to go out to dinner with old
friends.
He needed to pick up Charity from the day
care—and quickly.
“Do you have a phonebook?” he asked. “I need to call a
locksmith.”
“I think I’ve got one in the back. I’ll go check.”
Kent tried to reason things out in his head as he glanced at
his watch. Five fourteen. That meant he had exactly forty-six minutes to get
his car open, drive to the day care, and pick up Charity. If everything went
well, he could still make it. Of course, nothing today had gone particularly
well.
I should call
Mrs. Fritz, just in case.
As he reached
for the phone, a loud rap on the front door caught his attention. He turned
just in time to see Shauna Alexander’s beautiful face staring at him through
the glass. With the joy that rose up inside him, Kent had to confess she might
very well have been an angel.
