Avra's God (33 page)

Jesse circled his arm around her. Jesse’s
junior high sister arched dark brows. Kallie shrugged back. This
was weird—definitely weird—having Jesse treat her like a serious
girlfriend in front of his family and his whole church.

Kallie felt Jesse’s warmth, smelled Irish
Spring on his skin. In place of fear, safety surrounded her. They
stood and held a hymnal between them, the pressure of his hand
against her back, while their voices soared as one in worship. A
longing she’d never named was fulfilled. He took her hand during
his father’s prayer and slipped out of the pew as Rev. Koomer said,
“Amen.”

Jesse grinned at the congregation. “Bessie
Mae Abbot, Gladys Smith, Hector Brunch, Steve Sailor, Mrs. Stinson,
Mom, Dad—all my Sunday school teachers—can you believe I’m standing
up here?” Laughter rippled around the room as Jesse opened his
Bible.

Kallie sat transfixed as Jesse talked. He was
as comfortable in front of the congregation as he had been belting
out “
Ice Girl
” at Battle of the Bands. Instead of running
from
God, now he ran
with
God, stride for stride.
What had changed him? Jesse had been right—God
did
want him
to preach. That electricity Jesse had with a crowd was a gift from
God. Joy bubbled inside her, next to pride that he loved her.
Loved
her. She couldn’t think about that now.

When everyone had gone home and Jesse had
promised his father he’d lock up, Kallie followed Jesse into the
fellowship hall. They sat at the end of a long table at right
angles from each other under the florescent lights.

“So, let’s talk.” Jesse loosened his tie,
shrugged out of his sport coat, and threw it over a chair.

Her eyes moved over the stick-straight
chocolate hair, light brown eyes, freshly shaved chin, the white
T-shirt peeking from the open button of his dress shirt. She took a
deep breath. “Why did you send me away that night at Denny’s? It
cut deep, like my dad’s rejection all over again.”

Jesse took her hand. “That night you ran away
from me on the beach and told me about your dad, I vowed I’d never
hurt you like he did. I had to wait till I was sure I wouldn’t hurt
you. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Tears brimmed from her eyes. She wiped them
away with a knuckle. “Why didn’t you
tell
me that at
Denny’s?”

Jesse held his hands out helplessly. He
stood, pulled her into his arms, and held her. “Let’s take a walk
down by the river.”

Crossing the thick carpet of grass between
Riverside Drive and the water, she pulled her hand out of Jesse’s.
“All this touching makes me uncomfortable.”

“Is it touching in general you object to or
me in particular?” Jesse glanced at her in the light of a distant
streetlight.

Kallie folded her arms across her waist and
concentrated on keeping her high heels from slipping between the
planks of the tiny dock. Moonlight reflected up from the
breeze-ruffled water. “You.”

“You’re brutal.”

She smiled sweetly. “I know.”

“So, I repulse you?”

“No!” she said, too quickly. “I connected
with Zack physically—don’t give me that look—it wasn’t what you’re
thinking. The point is, I didn’t connect with him on any other
level. I’m already bonded to you—or was until six months ago—in
every way
but
physically. I’m afraid of you, Jess. You could
wipe me out.”

“I’m not your dad.” He leaned on the
two-by-four railing. “What more can I say? I waited until I was
sure. I love you. I think God is in this.”

“So, you’ve stopped running from God.”

“Yeah, and it’s your fault. You killed every
hope I had the day at the Beacon.” He began softly at first,
singing, “I was sittin’ all alone like Job on his ash heap, just me
and my bitterness, with nothing—nowhere to turn.” His voice gained
strength as he went. “Time to give it up, give it all up to you.
Time to put my hand in yours. I love you. I choose You.”

The words of faith spilled over Kallie,
washing away the dregs of her fear. His voice caressed her spirit,
and made her feel closer to him than she had been while in his
arms. “It’s beautiful. You were wrong about God. He rocks.”

Jesse’s smile reached deep into his eyes.

Kallie’s mood shifted; she spun away from him
and leaned her elbows on the rough wood. “You were crazy in love
with Tía. Your e-mails make me sound like a business
proposition.”

Jesse leaned on the railing beside her, his
arm touching hers. “
Crazy
is the operative word. I never
want to make a purely emotional decision again.”

“So, I’m a logical choice. I feel special.”
She swiveled her head toward him.

Jesse grabbed the back of his neck. “You’re
making me crazy right now.”

“You make it sound like you could be happy
with any number of girls.”

“Theoretically.”

“Ooooh! You are so irritating. This is
so
not working.” She crossed her arms tightly in front of
her.

“But you’re the only girl I’ve ever met who
can stand up to me. My sibs used to call me Little Hitler. You know
the worst about me and still believe I’ll succeed.” He pressed her
hand against his heart. “You’re the friend of the guy inside.”

His warm chest curved into her palm. She felt
the air come and go from his lungs, the beating of his pulse. Her
eyes searched his.

Jesse stepped closer, enfolding her in his
arms. Kallie’s hand stayed rooted to Jesse’s chest.

“Let me kiss you. I’m waiting for your
permission this time.”

She stared into his soul. Her thumb rubbed
the material of his shirt. His breath fanned her cheek. She gave a
small nod and lifted her chin. Jesse’s lips met hers. His arms
pulled her closer and she was lost in the kiss, returning it with
all the packed-away emotions they had shared.

When they parted Jesse looked dazed. “Uh, I
just changed my mind.” Jesse laughed. “One kiss, and I’m crazy in
love with you.”

She balled her fists on his chest. “This is
exactly what I was afraid of. I
like
kissing you.”

“Did you pray about whether God wants us
together?”

“Yeah.”

“What did He say?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!” Jesse said against her lips.

She forgot what was irritating her. She
forgot everything but Jesse’s lips on hers.

Kallie popped a perfectly browned marshmallow
into her mouth. “I love this.”

Avra leaned back against Cisco’s chest.
“Mmmm.”

Jesse strummed softly on his guitar in the
firelight. Waves sloshed against the sand nearby. A sliver moon
winked at piles of seaweed clumped along the shore.

Jesse strummed the opening chords to “I Love
You, I Choose You,” then added the lyrics. The others listened.

The second time through, Kallie’s harmony
wrapped around Jesse’s voice floating in the heavy salt air. Cisco
and Avra joined in the chorus. Their worship lifted toward God with
the smoke from their fire.

“It feels like church,” Cisco said. “The
worship—not the getting dressed-up part.”

Jesse laid his guitar in its case. “Who’s
connecting our generation with God? Who did it for us?”

“Avra,” Kallie, Cisco, and Jesse said in
unison.

Avra looked down at the blanket she was
sitting on, embarrassed. “I didn’t do anything but live my life—and
pray for you guys.” Avra dug her toes into the sand at the edge of
the blanket.

Jesse piled another piece of driftwood on the
fire. “What would a church for our generation look like?”

Cisco swept his arm around, taking in all of
them circled around the fire. “It would look like this.”

Kallie laughed. “Put me down for the
marshmallows.”

“Let’s do it,” Avra said. “Saturday nights on
the beach.”

“We’ll call it
The Beach,
” Jesse said.
“Invite whoever—”

“We’ll sing—” Kallie scooted closer to Jesse
and slipped her hand into his.

“We’ll tell our stories,” Cisco said. “Like
Kal and Jess did on the stadium bleachers.”

Jesse coughed. “Yeah, right, like I’m going
to do
that
again—”

“You can preach, then.” Avra looked smug.
“But you only get fifteen minutes.”

“And whoever wants to tell their stories,
can,” Kallie said.

“I’ll get those bongos off Geoff,” Cisco
said.

“I’ll bring pew Bibles, but we’ll have to
shake the sand out of them before Sunday morning,” Jesse said.

“Jess,” Avra said, “you’re going to have to
write some more worship songs.”

“Yeah.” Jesse grinned at her. “All those kids
from Beachin’ Willie’s are going to hear about Avra’s God.”

Avra faced Cisco as Pastor Jim spoke. The
deep brown in his eyes stirred with passion and love for her. She
trusted the man he’d become. The scent of gardenias surrounded
them.

She should be listening to Pastor Jim’s
wedding sermon, but her thoughts crowded out his words.

“You may kiss the bride.”

She heard
those
words. Mischief danced
in Cisco’s eyes as he bent toward her. It was a sweet, gentle kiss
that lingered with promise.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr.
and Mrs. Francisco Carter.”

Avra retrieved her bouquet from Kallie and
linked her arm through Cisco’s as the first notes of “Victory in
Jesus” sounded from the piano. Her voice joined Cisco’s, and all
the voices in the room, as she strode into her future, the slim
white dress floating against her skin.

Jesse winked at Kallie as they followed Cisco
and Avra up the aisle. He could feel the pressure of her fingers
gripping his arm through his coat sleeve. “He loved us ere we knew
Him and all our love is due Him...” Their eyes met as they sang
with the congregation. He leaned over, his lips brushing her ear.
“Marry me.”

The borrowed beach house huddled on the
moon-swept sand, miles from neon and noise. Cisco kicked the door
shut, closing out the surf and wind whispering through the
sawgrass. He set Avra down in the circle of his arms and smiled
into her eyes. His hands ran over the satin of her dress, trailing
fire along her body. “Mrs. Carter.” He sighed deeply. “At
last!”

For a long moment they just looked at each
other.

“I love you, Francisco Edward Carter.”

He crushed her to him. “I don’t deserve you.
God’s forgiveness is huge.”

Avra woke slowly. Her first conscious thought
was of feeling loved. Cisco’s body curled around hers; his warmth
ran the length of her. His arm lay across her waist. She slit her
eyes to morning sun spilling from a skylight. The pretty white
dress lay in a graceful heap beside the black and white of Cisco’s
clothes. She peered at him over her shoulder. His head was propped
on one elbow, and he was looking at her, smiling. His hair, dark
brown now from lack of sun, sprung out all over his head. She
twisted under his arm to face him. He moaned and pulled her
closer.

“Mornin’, sleepy face.”

Her eyes slid shut again. “Mmm. Beats waking
up to the garbage truck.”

THE END

Everyone needs someone who believes in them,
who thinks what they have to say is worth listening to, or in my
case, reading. We need someone with whom we can spout dumb things,
and not feel stupid. Someone who is always on our side. My husband,
Jim, has been that person for thirty-two years. I would never have
walked into my dreams without him.

Katie Marie Stout, 22, missionary to
Thailand, my favorite critique partner of all time—fell in love
with
Avra’s God
and championed it. Love you, Katie!

Thank you to James Knox who once upon a time
shared songs and some of the experiences fictionalized in this
book. We were two kids who tumbled into God in the same breath.

In a way,
Avra’s God
is a love letter
to the town of New Smyrna Beach that took in a sixteen-year-old and
made her one of their own. You are the place I and my characters
found home—my last shot at happy in childhood, and you pulled it
out. Thank you.

Ann Lee Miller earned a BA in creative
writing from Ashland (OH) University and writes full-time in
Phoenix, but left her heart in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, where she
grew up. She loves speaking to young adults and guest lectures on
writing at several Arizona colleges. When she isn’t writing or
muddling through some crisis—real or imagined—you’ll find her
hiking in the Superstition Mountains with her husband or meddling
in her kids’ lives.