A Perfect Match. Deb Kastner
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Julia cringed as by the question itself. “I think I may surprise you.”
Lakeisha took him up on his boast. “This I’ve got to see.” She immediately began digging around in the Sunday school cubby for scissors and tape.
With an audible sigh, Julia moved to one of the boxes and pulled out the gift wrap. “You did this to yourself,” she reminded him, handing him a tube of baby-blue paper covered with big, fluffy white clouds and brown cows jumping over orange crescent moons.
Lakeisha placed the scissors and tape on the table, then retrieved a baby monitor in a rectangular box and set it before him.
“You’re not even going to challenge me?” he asked, with a wink at Julia. “How can I prove real men gift wrap if all you give me is a box?”
Julia laughed, the high, bell-toned chime like the ones that filled Zeke’s dreams. “Here. Try this one.” She shoved a stuffed monkey into his arms. It was brown and tan and held a half-peeled banana in one hand. “No more straight edges and square corners for you to deal with. But don’t squeeze the banana.”
Zeke, of course, squeezed the banana.
The monkey let out a screech worthy of its real-life jungle counterpart, and Zeke laughed. “That’s more like it. Now watch, ladies, and learn at the hands of a master.”
Lakeisha and Julia burst into laughter, and he waggled his eyebrows.
Without another word, he measured, cut, folded and taped with the accuracy of years of carpentry and the dedication of his loving mother’s early training.
The women watched, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He struggled not to grin. It served them right. And he had to admit he liked this, being the center of female attention, most particularly Julia’s.
“I beg your pardon, Zeke,” Lakeisha said as he finished. “I have misjudged your talent and ability with gift wrap.”
He held up his big hands. “It’s an easy mistake to make.”
“I wasn’t talking about your hands,” Lakeisha admitted.
“The hands of an artist,” Julia acknowledged softly, and Zeke stood a good two inches taller.
“You know,” Julia continued, “you’re just the sort of person I need for my planning committee. The special dinner is coming up, you know. Would you consider it?”
Zeke swallowed hard. He tried to force clumsy words through his dry throat, but nothing would come.
“You really should,” Lakeisha encouraged. “I certainly underestimated your…”
“Artistic skills?” he provided hoarsely.
“Gender,” Julia said with a laugh. “Don’t ask.”
“My gender,” Zeke repeated dumbly.
“You’re a guy,” Julia explained, rolling her eyes at her roommate and friend. “You know—all bulk, no brains.”
Zeke backed up a step and put a dramatic hand to his chest. “I’m wounded. Mortally wounded.”
Julia laughed. “Well, don’t take it too hard. Maybe Lakeisha has learned her lesson. Women can tote boxes. Men can wrap presents. There is no happily ever after.”
Julia’s words shocked Zeke far more than Lakeisha’s insinuations ever had. “What’s this? No happily ever after?”
“Julia insists that Prince Charming lives only in storybooks,” Lakeisha explained lightly, though the look she gave Julia was anything but light. “No white steeds, no shiny armor. Nothing.”
“She’s wrong,” Zeke responded without thinking. His angel didn’t believe in love? What kind of nonsense was this?
He whirled to her. Her golden hair swirled about her like a halo, and his breath caught before he could speak. He forced words through his tight throat. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Or confused.
He wanted to take her into his arms and prove it, but he could hardly act on those feelings. Nor could he leave it quite alone.
He reached out and gently swiped a thumb down her cheek. “You are wrong about love. And if it takes me forever, I’m going to prove it to you.”
Chapter Four
“What do you think, girl?” Zeke asked the dog wryly as he scrubbed a hand over her soft muzzle. “Am I a fool for hoping?”
Tip merely nuzzled into his hand, bumping his palm with her nose to indicate that, in her opinion, he wasn’t done scratching yet.
Zeke laughed and continued petting her with one hand, and squeezing the steering wheel with his other as he maneuvered his truck down the highway.
He was feeling introspective today. He had more free time on Saturday. Without work to keep his mind occupied, it was easy to get caught up wrestling with his thoughts. Having Tip with him helped him to not get bogged down thinking.
The more time he spent with Julia, the more he lost his focus. When she was around, there wasn’t room for anything else in his mind and heart.
If he was completely honest, he’d admit he was terrified out of his wits at what he was feeling. She made him feel such a hodgepodge of emotions he wanted to run away when he saw her, yet he was drawn to her with all his heart, every fiber of his being.
Was God in this?
That was the question that beleaguered him now. That, and the fact he just couldn’t shake the feeling Julia needed him somehow.
For one thing, she didn’t believe in happy endings.
He desperately wanted to know why, what had jaded her. He knew beyond a doubt she was a Christian, and had a personal relationship with Christ. That story ended well, didn’t it? And if it worked for the Creator, why not for His creations?
He flipped his blinker and moved his truck off the highway. He didn’t know what he could do for Julia, or what God would have him do for her. He cared for her, but he was hardly in a position to offer her any type of assistance or comfort.
He was determined. She’d done something for him no one else had ever done.
She’d looked past the carpenter and saw a man beneath. Hey—maybe that was the answer.
She’d asked him to sit on the planning committee for the quarterly special dinner the staff and volunteers at HeartBeat put on for the women currently in their care.
No one had ever asked him to sit on any kind of committee before.
He was the man people called to get the job done, not design the plan. He’d served a year’s worth of dinners for HeartBeat, filling in whenever he was needed and doing whatever needed doing.
He hadn’t been sure what to do with Julia’s invitation. He’d been surprised, and honored. He turned his truck back onto the highway, in the direction of Julia’s apartment. He knew where she lived. He’d made it his business to know, even if it was none of his business, technically speaking.
God help and bless him. His decision was made.
“Come on, Tip. Let’s go see Julia.”
“There are bound to be some dry times in a Christian’s life,” Julia muttered to herself, closing her Bible with an audible thump.
Maybe it was just that she was reading through the minor prophets.
Maybe it was just that she was distracted.
Zeke the Carpenter and Tip the Wonder Dog. Lakeisha pushing her to drop her Great Scheme and concentrate on true love, whatever that was.
And in the meantime, God felt far away, as if an invisible barrier had been erected between heaven