“You can start now.” he laughed.
“Popi’s not even here yet.” She glanced around the parking lot, glad to change the topic, wishing Marcel understood her, yet relieved he didn’t.
“Give him a break. He’ll be here. You know how hard it is for him to get out of church every Sunday. Everyone wants to talk to him.”
“Yeah, I know. I need to talk to him, too.” She gazed at a bird as it lit on the hood of the Toyota. “Oh look, isn’t it tiny?” She whispered.
“Yep, just like you.”
”Now look, he’s gone.” Kyle heard the sadness in her voice and wondered at it. Lately she’d been too busy to think about her past. Except every now and again something…something would remind her. What was it that triggered her emotions today?
“Popi’s here…let’s go.” Marcel came around, opened her door, bent at the waist and took her hand, lifting her out gently.
Kyle smiled. Marcel was so good to her. She wished she loved him like he loved her.
Chapter 4
* * *
“Forgive and forget.” Marcel spoke to her across the table, his soft brown eyes urging her to relax.
“You’re right.” Kyle mentally threw off her moodiness and whispered a silent prayer, Lord help me to let it go.
Popi rounded the corner just as Kyle finished her prayer. Resolving to shake off the negative feelings, she stood and hugged him, nearly knocking over Marcel’s water glass.
“Whoa there, what’s this all about?” He smiled looking down…Popi was six foot three and she was barely five foot six.
“Just because.” Kyle brightened.
“And for you too!” She grabbed Ana , her adopted mother, and hugged her.
Ana’s woman eyes bore into Kyle’s.
“Thank you.” Ana answered as she accepted the hug and then took her place next to Popi.
Kyle knew she and Ana would talk later.
There were many interruptions throughout dinner as church folks stopped and talked to Popi and Ana.
Kyle knew she was unusually quiet and today, for some odd reason, enjoyed watching the interactions between God’s people more than talking.
It was normal for her to be giddy, upbeat, and talking on and on about the music program, which she, also normally, enjoyed. Something had stolen her joy and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure it out.
Marcel called, “Earth to Kyle. Earth to Kyle.” Waving his hand in front of her eyes.
Her gaze found his face and she realized she had been spacing out.
“Let’s get going. Popi and Ana have a few hours to themselves until tonight’s service. How ‘bout we take a long drive?” Marcel leaned toward her holding her attention, like he knew he’d lose it if he didn’t keep eye contact.
“Hey, I forgot, today is your ‘timeout’…don’t worry…I’ve got plenty to do.” She assured her parents. “Marcel and I will take a long drive and we’ll see you tonight, okay?” She pasted a smile back on her lips for good measure.
Ana wasn’t fooled and Kyle knew it, because she whispered, “Tonight, after the service…” And Kyle knew that was their signal it was time for a girl-talk.
Glad, because a kind of bleary confusion had settled over her mind, Kyle lifted herself out of the booth and hugged Ana. Soon she and Marcel were alone.
“Any place special?” he asked as they walked hand in hand toward the Toyota. “I’ve got plenty of gas and you’ve got time.” He tried to lift her spirit.
“Truth?” She glanced sideways.
“Truth, by all means.” He said quietly, sensing her need to talk.
“Not today, Marc. I need to be alone. Except I don’t know anyplace I can be alone. Popi and Ana have the house to themselves, the kids are at babysitters, and the church…well, there’s always someone there.”
“Okay, let’s think. How about Galen’s place? He and Tessa are in Myrtle Beach this week…vacation. I know they wouldn’t mind if you stayed for a while.”
“You sure? It’s a half-hour drive out there isn’t it?”
“No problem. Get in, we’ll get started. I’ll drop you off and you can call me when you’re ready to come back.”
Marcel winked at her and Kyle thought she’d never been so grateful in all her life.
“Thanks.” She whispered as he opened the car door and settled her in. Marcel was a perfect gentleman, almost too perfect…for a girl like her.
Chapter 5
* * *
Marcel settled Kyle in at Galen and Tessa’s place, then drove away. She felt strange being in their house, yet thankful Marcel had thought to bring her here. To be alone. Alone with her thoughts. A sudden sense of fear shot through her body. Maybe it was a mistake to be here. To remember her past.
Kyle jumped up from the cozy country blue print sofa and walked into the kitchen. Searching through the cupboards she brought down a glass and then it happened. The glass slipped from her fumbling fingers and shattered, the pieces in a million tiny shards flying in all directions on the ceramic tiled floor. The sound of glass breaking tinkled like an echo. Kyle stared at the mess. The sound of glass breaking. She put her hands over her ears to stop the screaming, then realized no one was screaming.
Kyle’s thoughts, like the shards of broken glass, began flying in all sorts of directions. “Lord, what’s happening?” Kyle heard the panic in her voice. “Why am I alone here?”
Tears formed in her eyes as she dropped to her knees to pick up the glass with her hands, then stopped. What was she doing? Quickly, she jumped up and began looking for a broom. Several minutes later it was cleaned up, the small rug shook free of glass and replaced in the exact spot. But the mess in her heart was still there.
Perhaps she had erred in coming here alone. It seemed rather strange at the very least. Here she was, after being with people every day since she had come to live with the Kincaid’s. Going to college, working at church, mentoring her adoptive parents’ two children. She had everything she’d ever wanted.
“Lord why am I here?” She asked again, raising her voice.
The phone rang and Kyle jumped. No one knew she was there, so she waited for it to stop. The answering machine kicked in and she heard Marcel’s voice on the other end. “Kyle call when you’re ready to come back okay? Hope everything’s okay. I can be there in thirty minutes if you need me…I’ll be praying for you…”
Kyle clapped her hand over her mouth as a sob came through her fingers. Marcel was so good, so kind, loving to a fault. And he loved her, had told her so with his eyes, although had never said the words. He was too wise to do that just yet. He had plans. Plans to be a missionary in Brazil, in the city where he was born, Porto Velho.
Kyle’s knees weakened and she fell onto the nearest chair, remembering the day they met. It was October, the first football game of the season at Grand State University. He knocked her hot dog with mustard against her brand new college sweatshirt. The yellow mustard was hardly visible against the gold shirt. She’d wiped at the mess with a napkin while balancing her drink.
Marcel apologized, first with his words, then with his eyes. “I am so sorry.” He said, humbly, then took the offensive mess from her hands and dumped it in the trash.
Kyle threw off the apology with a half-smile, hoping to forget the incident and go back to her seat, but he spoke quietly to his friends and taking her elbow escorted her up the stands waiting for her to show him where she sat. He made sure she was seated, then left. She pulled in a deep a breath, felt none the worse, minus her hot dog, anxious for the game to start. Within minutes, Marcel returned with another hot dog complete with mustard, stepped over her three friends and squeezed himself next to her.
“To replace the other.” He said, his English slightly tainted with some sort of she-didn’t-know-what kind of dialect.
“Oh, that’s okay.” She started to wave the hot dog away, then saw, in the lights of the football field, the sincere look in his soft brown eyes. She took the hot dog and ate it. And Marcel had been her friend ever since.
She had been a freshman college student straight out from high school. The community college they both attended was in southwest Michigan. Already in his second year, Marcel excelled in every class. He was tall, slender, black-haired and handsome. Beyond handsome. His soccer skills were unmatched by American standards. He had learned the favorite game of his home country, which she learned was Brazil. He played with an expert ease not seen in several years, so the coaches said. He’d brought them more than one win at the end of the day.
Kyle was proud to walk beside him. He was popular and the girls talked constantly of her envious position. Marcel laughed and talked with the girls, but he always took her to the special school functions.
She studied music, he, language and business. Her goal was to be a music teacher, his to write and publish Christian material which he felt was sadly lacking in Brazil.
It was he who had led her to a loving relationship with the Lord. He who had been patient with her slow, shy, yet stubborn ways.
She had known from the beginning Marcel’s life goal. Hers had wavered at times. Sins of the past haunted her, yet she knew the truth. Knowing God had set her free. Free to be herself. Free to pursue her own life. And she’d done exactly that for the last four years. And she’d done all of it without anyone knowing where she’d come from.
With her music degree finished, Kyle earned the position as assistant music director at the church her father pastored, which amounted to a lot of work for little pay. She’d been doing the job for just over a year.
Now she sat alone in a strange home wondering about things she didn’t want to remember. Why now? Why today? She’d been with Popi and Ana for nearly six years. This was her life. When she walked away from her old life, she’d put it all behind her, hadn’t she? What had sparked this rush back to the past?
Instantly she knew. The tattoos. The tattoos on the arm of that…that guitar player. That’s what it was!
Chapter 6
* * *
“By the time Marcel came to pick her up that night for church services, Kyle had come to no solid conclusions why she was so discouraged. Forcing herself to forget her past and trudge on toward the future she knew she wanted: one, a committed Christian husband and three children, two boys and a girl, she again pushed the button in her brain that said “Do Not Enter” and lifted her head.
“You’re looking bright and chipper. Enjoy the afternoon alone?” Marcel leaned down and tapped her nose with his.
“Yes. Thank you for understanding, Marc.” She smiled into his brown eyes and saw the makings of a wonderful husband and father.
“If we drive straight to church we’ll be on time for evening service. And…you don’t have to lead worship tonight, remember that? Popi said Twinkie is going to lead.
“Ah, good, I need a rest. You wouldn’t think it so stressful…this job…”
Marcel glanced at her sideways for a moment and silently prayed.
Lord something is bothering her. Help me to understand
.
“I really appreciate you giving me time alone.” She repeated, bright-eyed.
“No problem. We all need it…except I sense there’s something that you’re not telling me.”
Kyle shot him a glance and saw his beautiful profile. He didn’t turn to look at her because he was concentrating on driving…and waiting for her answer.
“There is Marcel.”
“Care to talk about it?”
“No.” Kyle shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to break the beautiful relationship they had.
Marcel deserves better, her conscience accused.
That thought gutted her. If that were true, why was she hanging on to him? Using him? She needed to either be truthful or let him go. She would never be good enough for someone like him. Never.
“We’re here. Remember, no duties tonight. We can sit together…for once.” He winked.
Kyle cringed. Why did she have to be so negative? Why now, when things were going so well between them? Why couldn’t she just pretend she was everything Marcel thought she was? Other girls did it. Other men loved girls that had been bad once.
Then the battering of her brain stopped and she did some self-talk. You are forgiven. Forgiven. Don’t look back. You know people that have gone through worse things than you have. Stop being such a child. Grow up. Act like the Christian you know you are. Forget it. Just forget your past.
Kyle pulled in a deep breath and shook off her misgivings. Nuisances. Just the evil one trying to pull you down, her conscience whispered. Get out there and be the person you know yourself to be now.
Marcel parked the car and came around for her. Smiling, she looked at him, grateful for his presence, stepped out of the car and walked, head high, into the church on his arm.
Kyle smiled at all the right times, chucked Bob and Cindy’s six month old baby under the chin, and handed in her music plan for Sunday. Bob and Cindy were the head worship leaders.