Back to the Garden (7 page)

The phone rang and she gasped, her heart leaping to touch her tonsils. She’d phoned the church earlier. Pastor Tom was there, filling in for Adam for the weekend, and she’d explained she had some sort of stomach virus and couldn’t be there tonight.

Maybe this was him again, checking up on her? Or maybe it was Luke, calling to cancel? She’d very reluctantly given him her phone number, with strict instructions on when to call and not call, and what to say if Adam ever answered.
Please, God, don’t let it be Luke
, she prayed as she ran down the stairs and grabbed it off the hook on the wall.

“Wolfe residence, how may I help you?” Lily answered breathlessly, by rote. She was glad she had, because Adam’s voice crackled in the receiver.

“Lily, are you ok? Tom called me.” His voice was soft and concerned, smooth as ever, like velvet over steel. She felt like she was swallowing past her beating heart.

“Just a little bug, Daddy,” she replied, her voice small now. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow for service, I’m sure.”

She knew that even if she’d been really sick, she would have still had to go. She’d once had meningitis when she was six, and had fainted dead away on the pew a few minutes into the service, but no one had taken her to the hospital until it was over. Adam’s services often ran two to three hours.

“That’s my girl,” he said. “You put on your PJs and go straight to bed. Would a warm bath help?”

“It might.” She chewed nervously on her lower lip. “That’s a good idea, Daddy, thank you.”

“It’s not a surprise on a night like tonight,” he said darkly. “There are heathen everywhere, worshiping the God of demons, serving the Lord of the Dead. A devout Christian knows the true God is the God of the living, Lily.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She felt what her friend Amy called an “Adam-Bomb” coming on. She waited.

“The darkness of this night is everything He is not,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, deeper. “Death, demons, the spirit world, mysticism, to say nothing of the silly costumes and the begging for candy. Do not be tempted by the darkness. Luke told us, Lily, he spoke God’s word: ‘I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.’ The devil will do everything he can to tempt you tonight. His ways are cunning and deceptive. You must resist with all your strength!”

“Yes, Daddy,” Lily agreed quietly.

Luke, he’d said Luke! At the mention of the name, her eyes closed, and she could see Luke’s face, his blue eyes and that half-lidded lazy look he gave her which made her knees weak under her long skirts. It was making her knees weak now, just remembering.

“This is not one of His holy days,” Adam went on. “We reject pagan practices based on worship of the dead! You know there is only one Lord of the Dead, Lily, and that Lord is none other than Satan himself! We must pray for those unwitting sinners out there in their costumes, believing they are only making merriment on this evil night, because they are really celebrating the dead, and they do nothing but honor the Devil and invite him into their hearts!”

“Yes, Daddy, we pray for them,” she breathed, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, feeling a little faint, but still careful to smooth her skirt underneath her.

She knew she was hearing part of his sermon this weekend at the retreat. He was practicing—he often did that with her, using her as a sounding board, a congregation of one. There was no telling when Adam was going to decide to pontificate, but she’d learned she had to be ready, willing, and able to stop everything to listen. Most of the time, she didn’t really mind. He was an amazing preacher, with a dramatic flair and a way of finding the perfect scriptures, even in the moment, to fit any occasion.

“Listen to me, Lily, you get to bed and stay there tonight.” He’d stopped himself and turned his attention back to her. She loved when he did this, when he interrupted himself, realized she needed tending to in the midst of his discourse. He really did love her. She felt a twinge of guilt.

“I will be home soon to take care of you, I promise,” he said. “I’ll tuck you in and feed you soup and read to you.” It sounded heavenly. Now the twinge of guilt was turning into a bigger tug, hearing the real concern and compassion in his voice. He was always so kind to her when she was ill that she’d feigned sickness as much as she could after her mother died just so she could find her way onto his lap and into his big, strong arms.

“Thank you, Daddy. I will,” she said, adding softly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I have to run, I’m on the pay phone and it’s about to storm.” His voice seemed even further away. “Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you soon!”

“Goodbye, Daddy.” She replaced the receiver and swallowed hard. Then the doorbell rang and she didn’t have any more time to think or feel remorse. Her whole body responded like iron to a magnet:
Luke!

When she opened the door, there he was, in breeches and knee-high black boots, a patch over his eye, a sword at his side. The sight of him grinning on her porch was more than she’d ever dared to dream of, and the way his eyes lit up at the sight of her, sweeping her over appreciatively, was more than enough to banish the thought of her stepfather from her mind.

“Hey there Little Red Riding Hood... you sure are lookin’ good!” he exclaimed She flushed, but she didn’t get the reference to the 1960’s Sam The Sham And The Pharaohs song. Any musical reference would have perplexed her, really, no matter what the decade. The only music she listened to was classical or gospel, and that only selectively, so she didn’t recognize Luke’s “You’re everything that a big bad wolf could want. Owoooooooo!” either, but she thought it was endearing and funny, and she laughed.

She grabbed her little picnic basket—which also doubled tonight as her purse—

and locked the door on the way out. The air filling her lungs was night-cold and dark and breathing felt like swallowing black ice. Darkness enveloped them as they moved away from the house toward his waiting car, the only illumination sporadic porch lights and the eerie glow of jack o’lantern faces leading costumed children to neighboring doors.

Their porch light, she remembered, had only been on once on a Halloween night that she could remember, when Adam had decided to hand out tracts and preach to the trick or treaters who came to the door. Their house had been egged later that night, and Adam had never done that again.

Lily shivered, looking at the glowing face of a pumpkin shimmering on the porch across the way. They’d always been frightening to her, those disembodied heads, and this one, with its sharp teeth and narrowed eyes, seemed to both mock and menace her for her audacity in being out on this night. Luke’s hand pressed lightly into the small of her back as he gentlemanly swung the passenger door open for her and she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation.

Please God
, she sent another prayer heavenward.
Just this one night. One magical night. Is that too much to ask for?

Hope fluttered lightly in her belly as Luke pulled out of the driveway, and she smiled shyly at him, liking the slow, easy smile she got in return. How could God ever condemn her for this feeling, she wondered. It was like every light in the world turned on when he smiled at her. It couldn’t possibly be wrong. She slid across the seat closer to him, feigning cold, and he let her.

—

Lily glanced over Luke’s shoulder and saw Amy dancing with Chris, her witch’s hat dangling behind her on its elastic band, tangled in her dark blonde hair. Amy turned, sensing her, and smiled, winking.

Luke pulled her closer, his lean hardness against her full softness, the difference startling and thrilling her at once. His mouth was against her ear, singing low and softly to the song, “I can hear her heartbeat from a thousand miles, and the heavens open up every time she smiles...” She felt as if he were singing to her, for her, and she let herself melt into him. He shifted his weight, taking hers, finding all those places where they fit so easily together. Did everyone fit together like this? She wondered.

The room was dark, the music loud, and all around them there were people dressed as someone or something else. There were exotic costumes—when they’d first arrived, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the bare and pierced midriff of the girl dressed as a belly dancer. And there were strange ones. One boy was walking around with a lawn chair strapped on his head and his face painted pink—he said he was a piece of bubblegum. There were also scary or gory or just plain silly costumes.

She’d received compliment after compliment on her own costume, and she sensed many of the girls were jealous, but curious. The boys just stared, or raised their eyebrows. She didn’t know most of the kids, although of course she knew Amy, who lived three houses away and had been her best Barbie buddy since they were four.

She found herself smiling, remembering that although it had taken many, many pleading and cajoling sessions at Adam’s feet to even acquire one Barbie to her name, Amy’d had hundreds and was always willing to share!

She was the sheltered, home-schooled weirdo among them—she knew it and felt eyes on her. She found herself tongue-tied while they all talked easily, felt herself awkward while they flowed like water on the dance floor.

But Luke seemed to have eyes only for her, no matter how many girls had come up to them, laughed gaily, touched or squeezed his upper arm, or more daringly, his upper thigh—he looked back at Lily like it was their inside joke.

She remembered how he’d found her reading under her favorite shade tree at the park, how he’d smiled his liquid smile, plopped himself down next to her and started talking. So easy…he made everything easy. She could breathe more deeply when he was next to her.

How many times had he asked her out? She lost count. But here she was. He’d persisted, and here she was, pressed against him, his voice in her ear dancing her across a high school gym floor she’d never set foot on before in her life. The first of many firsts tonight, she thought…she hoped…she fantasized…letting her fingers curl into the blonde hair at the nape of his neck again and again.

The slow song ended, and she moved reluctantly away from him. Amy gestured, urging her back to their table, and they filed through like the world’s shortest parade of some mixed up fairy tale, witch, wizard and pirate with little red riding hood bringing up the rear. Lily went to sit, but Luke pulled her into his lap, and she squealed, delighted and embarrassed at the same time.

“You two are so cute together,” Amy remarked again, for probably the tenth time that night. “How come you don’t ever pull me into your lap like that anymore?” she nudged Chris, who rolled his eyes and did something, who knew what, under the table to make her squeal and her eyes widen.

Lily reached for one of the candy corns strewn on the tables for decoration, but Luke anticipated her, putting one between her lips. She kissed his fingers and smiled a thank you, chewing happily. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d known such sweetness.

“You sure do love those things,” Luke remarked, looking at her with a little bit of wonder. She sometimes felt as if she were some novelty for him, that every new thing he exposed her to somehow made him come alive, as if he were experiencing it for the first time as well. She both loved and loathed that feeling.

“Well how come you made me dress up like some old guy from Lord of the Rings just so we could be a matching set?” Chris quipped back to Amy. “The things we do for our women, I tell ya.”

Luke just smiled, his hand cupping and periodically squeezing Lily’s luscious hip. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck again, unable to resist those curls.

“Everyone knows a couple should come to a costume party as a matched pair,” Amy insisted.

“What is that, like some Dear Abby’s Halloween Etiquette Rule or something?” Chris snorted, plopping his pointed wizard hat into the middle of the table. “Hey, you two should match, then...you should have come as a wolf, Luke!”

Luke shrugged. “Think so?”

“I know the perfect costumes for you two...Adam and Eve!” Chris howled. Amy nudged him again, but he ignored her, leaning forward with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What was the first thing Adam said when he first saw Eve naked in the Garden of Eden?”

Lily recognized the beginning to a joke when she heard one. She braced herself. Amy nudged Chris again, harder this time, hissing. Luke just smiled lazily, still rubbing Lily’s hip and bottom.

“Stand back! I don’t know how big this thing gets!” Chris snorted laughter, delighted with himself.

Lily hid her embarrassed face against Luke’s neck. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about sex—well, at least as much as Amy had been willing to tell her about it—but it was all a great mixed-up mystery to her, sometimes embarrassing and shameful, sometimes urgently exciting, often both all at the same time.

“You are driving me to distraction,” Luke whispered into her ear, nuzzling her neck. Her eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation, glad her hair hid the reaction. “I want to take you home.”

“Now?” Lily whispered back. She wasn’t objecting, just asking.

“Yes,” was all he said.

“Luke...” His name in her mouth felt thick and full, filling her. She couldn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to ask. He simply took her.

They were out the door without another word, just smiles and nods to Amy and Chris. Amy continued to poke and prod Chris, sure it was his fault they were making an exit, but Lily was too shy to explain. The anticipatory tingling in her body which had begun the minute he touched her tonight was now a buzzing feeling like a chorus of angels singing through her whole being.

—

“I feel positively wolfish.” Luke confessed as Lily fumbled with her keys. She giggled as they tumbled into the house, and he pressed her back against the door.

“What big eyes you have,” Lily whispered, playing along and trying to distract herself from the feelings welling up in her. Fairy tales she knew well, as Adam had read her countless, and for her, there was nothing bloodier or scarier than fairy tales, except maybe bible stories.