More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (19 page)

“How about we start with the 1800’s Village?” she asked without really looking at him as she turned the map this way and that. “I think it’s that way.”

“Sounds good.”

With that, she folded the map and slid her hand back into his. When she looked up at him, sparkles emanated from her eyes. He loved that look. His smile had as much to do with the look and the feeling as anything.

“You lead,” he said, and the words sounded husky in his ears. It wasn’t his fault. She had that effect on him, and he suspected at that moment she always would.

“Oh, wow!”

Even Jake stopped short when they entered the inner sanctum of the museum. Towering above them was the exhibit extraordinaire— a life-size Tyrannosaurus Rex. Wow didn’t begin to describe it.

“It’s
huge.
” Liz walked forward without looking at anything other than the massive skeleton. “I had no idea.” She went right to the little, shiny black exhibit explanation as Jake had learned she always did. Once there, it was like she absorbed rather than just read.

He had learned to step behind her, shadow her, and pretend to read over her shoulder. She never even questioned it. After only moments, she exhaled.

“Fossils have been
found in a variety of rock formations dating to the upper Cretaceous Period, 67 to 65.5 million years ago,
” she read softly, and he picked up on just enough of it to know a few things to add to the conversation if she referenced it later.

The only thing he wished was that he could simply concentrate on her, on being with her, but making sure she didn’t suspect or catch on was too important.

“Wow,” she said again, stepping back to look up at the thing, but somehow neither of them had realized just how close they were to it. “Ah!” Her gasp sounded as she spun into his arms and away from the menacing teeth that were barely a few feet away. “Oh, my gosh. That thing scared me to death.”

Jake laughed, not minding at all. In fact, tucked next to him was exactly where it felt she had been made to be. He had heard that old, sappy saying about someone completing you. Until that very moment, he had never understood it. Now he did with utter perfection. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, pulling her even closer. “It won’t get you.”

Her gaze came up to his although she never moved from his embrace. “You sure?”

Captured in her eyes, his heart slid away from him. “I won’t let it.”

A moment, a smile, and she snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Good.”

He wrapped himself all the way around her, closed his eyes, and sighed the feeling into his soul. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right, so perfect. As they stepped away from the exhibit together, he looked up at the TRex and said a silent thank you. Somehow the TRex seemed to be smiling at them, and Jake wondered if he had worked his magic on just them or if there had been other couples who had stood here as they had— apart when they came, but together when they left.

All the way through the museum, amazed by one bit of history after another, they went. Liz couldn’t remember ever having so much fun in her life. Sure, it had taken him a little while more than she had expected to embrace the experience, but once he had, everything had gotten easier, natural in fact, as if they had been doing this kind of thing together their whole lives.

“Oh, this is it.” She led him into a large room and over to a huge case that spanned the whole of one wall. “This was on the website. Oh, wow.” Carefully she leaned toward the case which was Plexiglas and filled with miniature figurines— thousands and thousands of them. Houses, people, and in the middle, the Palace of Versailles. It was breathtaking.

“What— what is it?” he asked from right behind her, and she looked back at him in incomprehension. Her gaze traced up to the large lettering up on the wall.
The French Revolution.
However, she simply leaned back in.

“Versailles,” she said, taken with the intricate detail of the display. “See, down there is the guillotine. Up there is the Palace.”

“Versailles.” Jake let out a soft, slow breath as life opened up in front of him. He’d seen countless History Channel documentaries on the time period. It had captured his imagination ever since he was very young though he’d never known just why. Something about the desperation of a king, hell-bent on keeping his power and his wife hell-bent on enjoying everything as the kingdom crashed around them brought him back to the story repeatedly. So many people had lost their lives— cogs that were discarded as no more than obstacles to a power-hungry monarch. And yet, in the end, it was the people who had won, the people who overtook the rule of an unjust, selfish king. Good finally winning out in the face of utter greed and pure evil.

“Did you see this?” Liz asked, leaning in to see one of the streets.

Jake shadowed her movement, coming so close to her that he had to put his hand on her back to judge the distance between them as he leaned forward to see. “What?” It was the best space in life he had ever before inhabited. He glanced at her, captivated by her enthusiasm and passion.

“Look at them fighting. You can actually see the anger on that guard’s face.” She pointed into the case. “Look. He’s dragging a prisoner to the guillotine. Man, that would be a long walk.”

“They were protecting the king,” Jake said, pulled from her into the little scene in front of him. “Trying to stop the riots.” The amazing thing was, there were thousands and thousands of such tiny little scenes throughout the menagerie. A million stories just waiting to be told. “Do you think they believed it would ever end?”

“The Revolution?” she asked, looking back and up at him.

He nodded, taken with the details of each tiny figurine. “I’ve wondered about that, you know? Like the people in the World Wars. I mean, we know how they all worked out now, but in the middle of it, did they? Could they see how it would ever be okay again? I mean, how do you keep moving when evil seems to so have the upper hand? People lost their lives. Real people. Fathers, brothers. Mothers and sisters even. They’d come get you in the middle of the night, and that was just… it. No trial. Just ‘you’re guilty. Off with your head.’ How does a society go on like that? How do people not go insane? How do you keep living in the face of that kind of fear and grief?”

Liz had never considered the question and certainly not to the depths he obviously had. That scrambled together with the fact that his warm hand was heating through the base of her spine twisting and twining her thoughts and feelings until she couldn’t be sure which way was even up.

“A million stories,” he whispered next to her, his gaze settling on each little figure spread out in front of them. He sounded transported back to that time, like he wasn’t even still standing here with her anymore. “A million of them right there, waiting to be told.”

“Maybe the book is somewhere in one of those houses,” she whispered not to herself but to him as she leaned closer to him. It was why she had brought him, and as they stood so close together they were practically in the same space, she wanted him to know how close she felt to him, how close his soul was to hers. Like what was in his made a difference to hers.             

His gaze swung to her with confused concern. “The book? What book?”

“The
Treasure of Vincent St. Patrick
. It was written during the French Revolution, right?”

Shock split through Jake as his gaze snapped from her to the little scenes and back again. “R-right. But…”

She smiled, shrugged, and went back to the scenes. “I thought so.” Leaning even farther forward, she pointed to a set of figurines. “Maybe it’s in that house or that one over there.”

Jake followed her gaze down, his honing to the first house she indicated. The rest of life dropped away from him as unreality took over.

“Maybe Vincent St. Patrick is in there right now as the guards take the prisoners down the street. Maybe he’s in there writing,” she said, in barely a whisper. “What part do you think he’s writing right now?”

The book wasn’t even real. It wasn’t anywhere other than in his head, and yet…

“Look at that woman,” Liz said, pointing one out, and it was like they had ceased to be outside the little world but had rather entered into it. “Look, she’s screaming, and the kids there with her are crying. Maybe that’s their father, her husband, they are taking away.”

“They’re watching him being led away to his death.”

She exhaled. “I can’t even imagine.”

And yet, Jake could. It was like he was right there, with the woman. “He’s in this house.”

“Which one?”

He pointed to another just across and down the street from the horrific scene. “He can hear the woman’s screams. He knows her. Not close, but they’ve been neighbors for many years. The man was his friend.”

“What did he do? Why is he being taken?”

“Because he’s a dissident. He spoke out against the king. That’s what Vincent is writing— that the man’s only crime is speaking out against the rulers, and he knows if anyone ever finds this page, he too, will be put to death.”

“Is he alone in the world, or is his family there with him?”

Jake thought into the scene. “There is a family, but it’s not his. Still, he knows they too will be in danger if his writings ever come to light.”

“But how… how does this tie with Jasmine and our government? How could his book bring down what’s happening?”

“It exposes them. It explains what they are doing and where that leads.”

“To the guillotine?”

“To chaos.”

“Can she stop them?”

“She has to.” He shrugged with barely a movement. “She has to.”

Long after they left the museum and Liz was in bed, she relived what it was to stand there by him as he worked through his story. It felt like so much more than a story to her. It felt real, like he was simply relating the events from a parallel universe in exquisite, elaborate detail. As she rolled over and closed her eyes, she said a prayer for him and one for Jasmine that she would find the key to stop evil from winning once again.

Liz only wished that she had that much courage— the courage to stand up to evil and not let it win. But she wasn’t that brave. No, she was the kind that buckled the minute things got a little tough. Her thoughts slid to a time not so long before that she had done just that, and regret filled her as it always did when those thoughts came.

She flipped over and stared at the ceiling, bringing the blankets up under her arms. Guilt slid around her, and she brushed at the tears that had never, in three whole years, found a bottom. Why had she not done what she knew to be right back then? Why had she caved? Had it really made things any better? It didn’t feel like it then, and it sure didn’t now.

When she rolled to her side, the battle for her thoughts reached fever pitch as the tears rolled over each other and down her cheeks. She sniffed them back, but more simply replaced them. “I’m sorry, God. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” But how many I’m sorries would ever make what she had done all right? A million? Or more?

Or maybe she would say I’m sorry into infinity, and it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference. Her thoughts turned darker then, dragging her spirit down with them. What would he think of her if he knew? What would he say? Her heart jerked hard at that. She could see the look of disappointment and disgust on his face as if he was standing right there in front of her. Swiping at the tears, she thought into the future and then about their present.

Should she tell him now? Could she ever tell him? Might she just pretend it had never happened? But if they stayed together, he would find out eventually. If they stayed together... Right now that was a big if, but... She would have to tell him. Who else would? Not many knew, but a few did. Would they say anything? Surely not, but then again, one slip would shatter everything.
Trust me.
Her heart ached at the words she had spoken so blithely to him.
Trust me even as I lie right to your face. Trust me until I tell you who I really am. And then what?

She wanted to believe it would all work out if she owned up to her selfishness, but would it? There was no real way to know, no real way to see that point in the future and know he wouldn’t just trash her and them if he ever found out. More tears of pain slid down out of her eyes, soaking into her pillow. “God, what have I done?”

Monday night Jake all-but ran home, showered, changed, threw on some cologne, and was back out the door. All he wanted was to be with her, to feel her presence near him again and to know that once again the world made some sense. At one of the sidewalk venders, he stopped and bought a small batch of flowers. He wanted to give her the world like she had given him, but flowers would have to be enough for now.

Liz was still twisting on the thoughts of the night before as she concentrated on getting the orders right and delivered without spilling anything or making a disaster of work as well.

“Oh, boy, don’t look now, but Prince Charming just showed up,” Mia said, in barely disguised disgust when the bells jingled at just after seven.

It should have jumped with the sight, but Liz’s heart fell. He looked so very vulnerable and unsure, standing there with the brightly colored flowers in his hand.

“Oh, and look. He brought flowers.”

“Shh,” Liz warned her friend. She wished she could freshen up, but there was no time. Striding over to him, she smiled all of the uncertainty in her heart down. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, and his gaze fell to the flowers. “Um, these… these are for you.”

Wishing he hadn’t but grateful that he did, she took the flowers. “Thank you.” Putting her nose right in the middle of them, she breathed in their heavenly scent. “They’re beautiful.”

His smile said he was glad she liked them.

“Um, are you staying? Would you like a table?” What to do past that scattered from her.

“If you don’t mind.”

“No,” she said, and she found when she gazed into his eyes, it was the genuine, all-the-way-to-the-bottom-of-his-soul truth she found. “I don’t mind.”

An hour later, Jake was in the far corner, and it was more than clear that Mia was not happy about that.

“You should go make sure Prince Charming doesn’t need a refill.”

Liz turned to her friend, her back to him. “What is with you tonight? What do you have against him anyway? You’ve been hateful ever since he got here.”

“Well, excuse me for being concerned.” Mia stepped up toe-to-toe with her. “I just think you’d better take a good, long look before you leap with this one. You don’t have the best track record with handsome, mysterious guys, you know.”

The blow hit like a punch to the gut, and it took a moment for her to recover. “It’s not like that with Jake, Mia.”

“Oh, yeah? Then how is it?”

How to answer that was a mystery, and she couldn’t find the words for one second too long.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” Mia said, getting exactly the wrong idea.

“Look, for your information, we’re not sleeping together if that’s what you think,” Liz said in her own defense and his as well. “Jake’s not like that.”

“Yeah.” Mia laughed under her breath as she turned to wipe the counter.

“What? He’s not.” Then Liz caught what her friend wasn’t saying. “Are you saying I am? Gee, thanks, Mi. What a great thing for a friend to say.”

“Hey. I didn’t say anything. I just don’t want to see you hurt… like last time that’s all.”

Last time
. The words twisted in Liz’s gut. “You think I don’t know how bad that was? I was the one that lived through it, remember? You think I didn’t learn my lesson?” Tears slid up into her eyes once again.

“Look, darlin’,” Mia said far more kindly. “I know you learned, but that don’t mean he’s on the same page with it. Liz-honey, you’re young. You still have stars in your eyes about life, but guys… guys just take advantage of that. I want you to play this one smart, that’s all.”

“I’m trying to. We’re taking it really slow. I mean really slow. He’s only kissed me like twice, and besides that, I thought you wanted me to be with him.”

“Hello. That’s when he was a bird in the tree, not one in your hand.”

“Oh? So it’s okay to talk about getting it on with some guy as long as, you know, that’s in fantasyland, but when a guy really starts to like me and take an interest in me, then it’s ‘Oh, be careful. All guys are only after one thing.’”

Mia deflated. “Look, I’m sorry, Lizzie-girl. I only want what’s best for you. When you were looking, I thought finding Mr. Right would be that, but now…  I don’t know. I guess I see that this thing with Jake…  it might be more than just wow, isn’t he cute? I mean, you guys could get married and move to Jersey and set up house.”

Only then did Liz see why Mia was freaking out. She reached over and put her arm around her friend. “I promise, I’ll write every Christmas and twice on your birthday.”

Mia laughed as Liz pulled her into a hug. “You better.” She sniffed. Something Liz would never have thought possible. When they pulled away, Mia’s gaze stayed on the tiles at their feet. “And about what I said before…”

Liz knew. “Consider it forgotten. But believe me, we really
are
taking it slow. At this point we’re more like really, really good friends than anything else.”

With a nod, Mia backed up. “Okay. I don’t need the gory details.”

“They are hardly gory. We went to the library and the museum.”

“Ooo. Making time in the stacks, who would have guessed?”

Liz threw a rag at her friend. “Ugh. You’re hopeless.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Jake asked when she made it to his table for her break. He had seen the conflagration at the counter, and even though he couldn’t hear any of it, it was clear tempers had flared.

Liz sat down, looking incredibly tired. “Oh, it’s just Mia’s version of looking out for me.”

“She doesn’t like me much, huh?”

“I think it’s guys in general she doesn’t like much.”

“I thought she was married.”

“She is, but it’s not her she’s worried about.”

“Ah.” He considered saying more but decided to drop it. Pulling forward on the table, he searched for a new topic. “Did you make it to the Literacy Center today?”

A shake of her head and a sigh, and Liz closed her eyes. “No. I may try to get over there tomorrow.”

He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell just what. “So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Going home for the whole turkey-’til-you-drop experience?”

Slowly she shook her head again. “No, my parents are going out of town. No reason to go if they won’t be there.”

Then he began to understand. “So, are you going to a friend’s house or something? A relative or Mia’s?”

Again she shook her head. “No. It’ll just be me. Five whole days of just me. Yippee.”

“Oh.” Somehow he had thought she would be surrounded by a million relatives sitting around a piano singing. That she would be alone for Thanksgiving had never occurred to him. An idea slid into his heart. “Well, then how are you at cooking turkey?”

For the first time since she’d sat down, her gaze came over to his. He couldn’t read exactly what it said but surprise was part of it. “A turkey?”

“Well, I’ve never actually made turkey before, but how much harder can it be than cheese sandwiches, right?”

Strangled hope surfaced in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

His smile battled to get to his lips. “If you don’t mind.”

She smiled softly. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

“Okay, I’m thinking somebody needs to get this turkey,” Jake said Tuesday night during her break. “Do you want me to?”

“Do you really think we can eat a whole turkey? Just the two of us?”

He corkscrewed his mouth. “It’s not Thanksgiving without turkey.” Strangely that was still true although he had eaten tuna sandwiches for the last four.

“You’re serious about this.”

“Yes. Now what time do you get out tomorrow? I was thinking maybe I could get off a little early. I’ve worked extra shifts for everybody and their dog for four years now. Somebody somewhere owes me a couple hours. So I was thinking, maybe I could come by when you get out of class, and we could go shopping. Of course, I know you’ll have to be back for work.”

Liz shifted slightly in the chair. “Actually, I took off Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday before I knew Mom and Dad weren’t going to be around.”

Surprise jumped into him. “So you have the whole weekend off?”

She slid her hand up her arm. “Looks like it.”

A smile drifted over him. “Cool.”

Nothing looked right. Absolutely nothing in her closet. What does one wear to go Thanksgiving turkey shopping anyway? Her ripped jeans fit the best, but were they too casual or worse, too suggestive? The black pants looked like she was headed to church, which was also a problem she was trying to negotiate in this new existence she found herself living in. She’d always gone for Thanksgiving. At least the night before Thanksgiving if not that day.

But with him coming tonight and tomorrow, where did church fit into that? The day of their visit to the museum she had gotten up and made it early that morning, and that was a possibility as well, but what time was he planning to be at her place? How long did it take to cook a turkey? Would he leave after they ate? Or would he stay? And if he stayed, what in the world were they planning to do for the eternity of hours after that?

Granted, filling time with him had never been a problem in the past, but those were impromptu visits at best, not planned ones. Liz suddenly felt responsible for entertaining him, and that was as big of a problem as everything else. The knock sounded at the front door before she made a final decision on the clothing question. Frustration and panic clutched her, and she let out a yelp and then a growl. “Ugh. I’m so bad at this. You know that, right?”

She yanked a brown knit sweater up from the pile she had been creating on the floor and pulled it on as another knock sounded. “Coming!”  On the way out the door, she managed to get a little perfume and her faded jeans on and run the brush through her hair for three quick swipes, but that was going to have to be good enough. There was no time for more.

At the front door, she let out a hard breath and wrenched it open with the biggest fake smile ever. However, in one second, frantic and fake slipped away from her.

There he stood, leaning against her doorframe, looking at her with a wry smirk that made her heart slide through her shoes. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

“Now, would I do that? I was trying to get presentable.” She slid her fingers through her hair, wishing she’d taken more care with it. “Is that a problem?”