Swinging on a Star (17 page)

“Trust me, I’ve spent a lifetime loving myself.” He shook his head. “But I get the feeling that needs to change. I can’t just say I’m a Christian and not do anything. You know? For one thing, I’ll have to turn down the role I’ve just been offered in that next movie. Totally not the kind of message I want to send to people, now that I’m . . .” He looked at me and quirked a brow. “What is it I am again?”

“You could call it any number of things—born again or saved being at the top of the list,” D.J. said. “But I think I would just say you’re a Christian. You’re a believer in Christ.”

“Okay. I’m a Christian. Good enough.” Brock continued to pace, finally turning to me. “Bella, I have a lot of money.”

“Right. I know. I mean, well, I figured . . . I don’t really know anything about your finances.”

“I’m always giving to charities to make myself look good, but I’ll have to reconsider some of that. Saving the whales isn’t exactly the theme of my life. Helping people . . . now
that’s
more along the lines of what I’d like to do. How can I help people, Bella?” He took a seat on the sofa next to me with a pensive look on his face. “Where do I start?”

“Hang on a minute.” I flashed a smile. “Deep breath, Brock. You don’t have to figure out all of this in an instant.”

“You’re right.” He exhaled, but I could still see the worry lines etched on his brow.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m leaving soon, but I have so many questions. Could I call you . . . or D.J.? Would that be okay?”

“Of course. And don’t forget about Rob. Once he gets back from his honeymoon, I mean.” I grinned.

“Right, right.”

We spent the next couple of hours answering Brock’s questions, my heart racing all the while. At the end of it, he couldn’t seem to hold back his enthusiasm. The more he heard about living for Christ, the more he felt he needed— wanted—a project.

“There’s got to be something I can do.” He paced the living room, finally pausing to look at me. Snapping his fingers, he said, “I know!”

“What?” D.J. asked.

“It’s so obvious. I’ve met so many great people here on Galveston Island. And I can see that the island is still recovering after the storm. Maybe I could help.”

I grinned. “Great idea. It’s been quite a while, but some people are still not back in their homes.”

“I told Bella all about a guy I know on the west end,” D.J. said. “An older man whose home was almost destroyed. He’s a pastor, but his church building was completely obliterated. The congregation is meeting in a school right now.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Brock nodded. “I’ll build him a church. What kind of money are we talking here? One million? Two? I can make out a check today. Just let me know.”

D.J. laughed. “Brock, we’re talking about a small congregation here. Maybe a hundred people or so. And they already own the property. It just needs to be cleared and rebuilt. We’re probably talking two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and that would include cleanup. For that matter, if my company takes on the job, we can probably do it all for less than that. I’d like to contribute in some way too.”

Oh, my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. Now here was the man I loved! He would do just about anything to ensure that that pastor would get the thing he wanted most—a place to share the gospel.

“You’ve got it.” Brock nodded. “Who do I make the check out to?”

D.J. laughed again. “Before we get into all of that, why don’t I take you to meet Pastor Willy? I think you two are going to be great friends. He can fill you in. Sound good?”

Brock nodded. “Yes, and I guess we’d better take care of this today, since I fly out tomorrow.”

My heart twisted at his words. Brock Benson had become so much a part of our lives that I could hardly imagine him leaving, especially now.

We climbed into D.J.’s truck and headed to the west end of the island, where we found Willy Maddox sitting in the front room of his house, watching a televised sermon. He greeted us with a look of sheer delight, his smile bright against such beautiful dark skin. “Well, well . . . to what do I owe the honor, young man?”

“I’ve brought a friend who wants to meet you.”

“Have you now.” He turned to me, and I giggled.

“Technically, I’m not the one he brought to meet you, but I’m happy to be here, just the same.” Extending my hand, I made introductions. “I’m Bella, D.J.’s—”

“Oh, I know who you are, no doubt about that.” Willy laughed. “You’re the love of D.J.’s life.”

I felt my cheeks warm and snuggled against D.J.

“This boy can’t say enough about you, Bella.” Willy grinned. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. But who have we here?” He turned to Brock. “There’s something familiar about you.”

“The name is Brock Benson.” Brock grabbed the man’s hand and gave it an enthusiastic shake. “I’m from California.” “Well, hello, Brock Benson from California. What brings you out to the west end of Galveston Island today? And why are those people with the cameras following you?”

I turned back and looked through the open door, stunned to see that a news truck had pulled up in front of Willy’s house.

Brock groaned. “No way. Did either of you see them earlier?” “Nope.” I sighed. “But you know what? Let’s get them in on this. The more attention we can draw to the people in need on the island, the better, at least to my way of thinking.”

“But I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing.” Brock crossed his arms at his chest. “Does that sound dumb?”

“No. Not dumb at all. We don’t have to tell them you’re going to pay to rebuild the church.”

“W-what?” Willy stared at him, his eyes now very wide. “You’re going to pay to rebuild my church?”

“If you will let me, sir. It would be an honor.”

“Son, come and sit with me a minute. It’s important that we talk. I need to know why the Lord has laid this on your heart.”

The two of them sat on the sofa, and I took D.J. by the hand. “Ready to talk to the press?”

“I guess.” He sighed. “But I’m not very good at this.”

“Oh, you’ll do just fine.”

As we walked to the news van, a cameraman jumped out and began to film us. Strange, but in that moment I had the weirdest flashback of the night I’d been arrested. Was it really only two days ago? Thankfully, this guy looked pretty harmless, but the harried reporter who jumped out of the van behind him did not. He thrust a microphone in my face.

“So, what can you tell us about Brock Benson?” he asked. “What’s he doing out here on the west end of the island?”

I did my best to play it cool, hoping I could keep my voice steady. “Like so many of us, he is concerned about the welfare of those whose lives were touched by Hurricane Ike. Several of us are linking arms to do what we can.” I gestured to D.J. “But if you want to know about a real hero, you’ll have to talk to this guy right here.”

D.J.’s jaw grew tight, and I could read the fear in his eyes. Jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow, I added, “He really has a heart for people and is in the rebuilding business. So if you have any questions, he’s your guy.”

As those last words crossed my lips, I stared up at my cowboy, my knight in shining armor. He was indeed my guy. And I would love him no matter how many storms life threw our way.

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38
I Wish You Love

Less than twenty-four hours after their kiss-a-thon, Laz and Rosa announced their engagement to the family. Less than twenty-four hours after that, we had the whole thing planned out. They wanted the 1940s swing package, complete with a live swing band. Wow, was that ever going to be a fun one to coordinate!

But, December? Could I really get it done that quickly? It was already October, after all. Still, as Rosa was quick to tell me, when you’d waited fifty years for the man of your dreams, there was no point in waiting longer than necessary for the wedding night. She’d blushed at that revelation.

I spent the second Friday in October making plans for their big day. The menu? Italian food, of course. Though we’d argued against it, Laz and Rosa insisted they would prepare the food themselves. The locale? The wedding facility, naturally. But it would be transformed into a 1940s wonderland. I knew it would take a lot of work to pull off, but I figured that after all I’d been through, I was up for the task. Seemed the longer I worked at Club Wed, the more secure I felt.

Well, unless you counted that incident with the police. But I’d almost put all of that behind me. In fact, I’d done one better. I’d actually gotten in contact with my cellmate, Linda, and met her children. They would be coming to dinner one day soon. After that . . . who knew!

With the busyness of the wedding behind me, I was finally free to relax. Take it easy. Late afternoon I headed up to my room to take a nap before dinner.

Tucked under the covers, I reached down and patted Precious, who rolled over on her back for a tummy tickle. This raised that age-old question, the one that often plagued me in the night. What happened to one’s dog when one got married if, say, that dog was accustomed to snuggling under the covers at night? I sighed as I looked at the naughty little Yorkie-Poo. She might be a handful, but she was my handful. And if D.J. loved me, he had to love the dog, right?

I reached out to rub her little belly, and she made that contented sound I loved so much. See? She was a good girl!

Just then a knock sounded at the door, and Precious came flying off the bed, growling at the back of her throat, ready to save me from harm. If you could call a chat with my younger sister harm.

Sophia rolled her eyes as she came in the room. “You’ve got to do something about that dog, Bella.”

I picked up Precious and nuzzled her against my cheek as I sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Maybe tomorrow.

Or the day after that.

Sophia came in and stretched out on the bed, then let out a dramatic sigh.

“What is it, honey?” I asked.

“Laz and Rosa are getting married.”

“Right.”

“That’s just weird. I wonder which bedroom they’re going to move into.”

I hadn’t thought about that, to be quite honest. Things were moving so quickly, likely they hadn’t either. “Good question,” I said. “I wonder if they’re going to stay here at all, or if they’ll get their own place.”

Sophia sat straight up at this revelation. “No way! You don’t think they’d really do that, do you?”

“Maybe. They’re going to be honeymooners, you know.”

She shuddered. “That’s another thing. Can you picture . . . I mean, can you imagine . . . ?” She giggled, and I laughed in response.

“No. I can’t. I have a hard enough time imagining my own honeymoon night, let alone someone else’s, especially Laz and Rosa.”

“Me too.” She rolled over onto her stomach and stared at her nails. “I guess I’m not ever getting married.”

“Oh?”

“I hardly ever hear from Brock anymore. He’s only called me once since he left—and that was to ask my opinion about decorating that new after-school facility of his. He’s too busy saving the world to remember that I exist. So I’m destined to remain alone for the rest of my mortal life. Maybe I’ll become a nun.”

“But you’re not Catholic.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Maybe I could get a job on a cruise ship and sail the world. Put things behind me.”

“Don’t you get seasick?”

“Yeah.” Another sigh.

“I think it’s admirable that Brock’s starting the after-school facility. Don’t you?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m just being selfish, I guess.” A sigh erupted. “It sounds like a great place, and I’m sure the kids are great too. But he’s so busy that he doesn’t have time to call me anymore, and that stinks.”

“What about Tony?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“Does he call?”

Sophia shrugged. “Yeah. We’re going to the movies tonight. He’s a great guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Still, I have to wonder if I’ll ever get married.”

“Oh, I have a feeling you will. So don’t join the convent just yet. And I wouldn’t plan that cruise anytime soon either. I think you just need to take a deep breath and remember that God’s got your love life under control. No worries. He wants you to have your happily ever after.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

We both giggled at that one.

Sophia stretched out on the bed once again, looking a little dreamy-eyed. Even her voice took on a faraway sound. “It is fun to think about getting married, isn’t it? If I ever do, I’d like to have a traditional ceremony. Nothing too frilly. Maybe have the ceremony at the church, then have a small reception at the wedding facility. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you thought about your wedding day?”

“Have I thought about it?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Only since I was seven! Where were you?”

“Falling in love with all the wrong guys.”

I laughed. “Well, I’ve definitely given this some thought. Would you like to see the pictures I cut out of bridal magazines and the fabric samples I started collecting when I was thirteen?”

“Maybe later.” Sophia grinned.

“To answer your question, I’ve spent as much time thinking about the wedding as I have thinking about love itself.”

“What do you mean?”

I did my best to explain. “From the time I was a little girl, I’ve thought about what it would be like to fall in love. And we have plenty of examples in our family. Just look around you. We’re surrounded by love on every side.”

“I guess you’re right.” Sophia nodded. “Never thought about that before.”

“Take Mama and Pop. They have that ‘I’ll rub your back with mentholated ointment, you rub mine’ kind of love. Steady. Sure. The kind that says it’s okay to let your guard down and just be yourself.”

“I never thought about that before, but you’re right.” Sophia paused a moment, and I could tell she was thinking. “I love that kind of love. It’s so comfortable. So easy.”

“Yes, but we also have the ‘I’m too scared to tell you how I feel’ version with Rosa and Laz. It’s basically the same thing, only in reverse. They’ve been as uncomfortable as Mom and Pop have been comfortable, if that makes sense.”