smooth and a few inches lower than they should have been.
“Well, hello to you, too.” Trevor, in a shirt I’d bought him six Valentine’s ago and a pair of jeans fitted in all the right places, stood just beyond my face, licking his lips.
I shut my eyes as if this would all go away. “I am so sorry. I thought you were—That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Trevor stepped inside and kicked the door shut with one of his boots. “I’m glad it did. I’ve missed you, Dana. I mean really missed you.”
Run!
Doing a football shimmy I once saw on a horrible exercise video, I got away the best I could, though Trevor closed the distance with two strides.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I said in a pitiful voice. My chest heaved from the short run. I really needed to get back to the gym.
“We wrapped up early. Came to pick up the baby.”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore his lingering scent. I stared at Sierra snoozing on the couch behind me. Good thing I didn’t send her with Adrian or I’d have had to face Trevor alone. “Okay. Let me gather the baby’s things. I had, uh, planned to take her to church in the morning.”
As I dived into the hall closet for the baby bag, I decided to toss it to him on the way to the door.
Don’t look at him, whatever you do.
When I got back to the living room, Trevor was half out of his shirt. Obviously, he had plans, too. Flipping him the child’s bag in a pass worthy of the Super Bowl, I made for the door, jerked it open…and ran into Adrian’s chest.
He wasn’t smiling.
Trevor shrugged on his shirt and called to Sierra, now awake and blinking on the sofa. “Come on sweetie. Let’s go home.” He winked at Adrian. “Our work here is done.”
What I wouldn’t do for a quiet little Sunday.
Today was anything but. Instead of sunshine, angry clouds raged on outside my windows, clumps of cotton against the blue-gray sky. As freezing rain burst from the clouds, tears eased down my cheeks. I tiptoed past the couch where Adrian and Daddy slept. Shemika and Jericho were propped uncomfortably on two recliners. Holding hands. It’d been a long night for sure.
I paused and looked down on Adrian’s smooth head. My hand rested on his, pinching the bridge of his nose even in his sleep. Remembering the confusion with Trevor, I pulled away, grateful he wasn’t awake.
Or so I thought. He pulled my hand to his chest. I didn’t resist. A tear splashed on his forehead.
“I believe you,” he said, rising from the couch, and heading for the door. He pulled me along for the ride.
“I know how it must have looked.” I didn’t really. I know how it looked to me when Trevor had unbuttoned that shirt. I didn’t dare think how it might have looked to another man. Especially not Adrian, who had so many times removed himself from my presence so as not to get either one of us into more than we could handle. I’d spent most of the night crying in my room after the look he’d given me. Even Shemika seemed disappointed. But somehow during the night, some way, Adrian had changed his mind.
I smiled as we reached the door, thinking of Sandy, his late wife. What must it have been like to be married to this man? I’d always thought of Adrian in superhero terms, much as a teenager I’d dreamed of El Debarge or Prince—until I realized he was less than five feet tall. This was different. Grown up. Real. Jesus had changed things so much between us. “Thank you. For taking everybody out. For believing me.”
He nodded. “You met Trevor at my wedding, remember? I know his games.” He squeezed my hand and reached for the doorknob. “And I know you.”
How can you? I don’t know me.
I nodded, thankful Adrian hadn’t showed up any later. I’d learned early on in my walk with Christ that the place I felt strongest was often the place the enemy attacked first. I’d always expected war in my weaknesses, but it was my strengths that often brought me down.
Being single and celibate had come first on my list of Christian virtues. And allowing God to refine me had become my deepest prayer. Watching Adrian walk away from me, limping as though he’d been shot through the heart, I knew two birds had been killed with one stone this