The Color of Hope

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Friday, August 20





The door buzzer startled Libby from her work early Friday evening. She wasn’t expecting anyone and was inclined to ignore it—probably the boy from several units over selling something again—but then she heard, “Libby, you in there? Open up.”

Omar. He’d gone a week and a half without calling. Then Wednesday he’d left a voice mail, and again this morning, plus a handful of texts.

He knocked hard this time. “Libby, if you’re in there, open the door. I’m worried about you.”

She sighed, rising from the dining room table. In her duplex-style apartment, she had only two other neighbors close enough to hear, but they paid attention to everything. If she didn’t answer, they’d start calling and stopping by to make sure she was okay.

She opened the door and stood aside so he could enter. Might’ve been because she hadn’t seen him, but he looked more handsome than normal in beige walking shorts and a black polo shirt. She felt the adrenaline surge she always felt around him. There was never a doubt about that—she was attracted to him.

He stood within inches after she closed the door. “You don’t return my calls. I had to bang on the door to get you to answer. Is that where we are now?”

Libby frowned at him. “Excuse me? You’re the one who left the reunion with an attitude, acting like you didn’t want anything more to do with me.”

“You were wrong, Libby.” He was matter-of-fact. “You invited me to come, but only as a pawn in some game you were playing with Travis.”

“I wasn’t playing a game,” Libby said. “I was just . . . I don’t know what I was doing.” She looked at him. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.”

A brow went up. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said.

“What were you expecting? Why did you come?”

“Like I said, I was worried.” His voice was tender. “And you know I couldn’t stay mad at you.” He caressed her face. “I missed you.”

She moved around him, from the entryway to the dining area, her heart palpitating. This was the Friday night norm she’d been missing the last two weeks, she and Omar spending time together . . . spending the night together.

“Did you eat already?” he asked. “I almost brought some carryout, but I didn’t know if you’d be here. I can go back out and get us something.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I have leftovers from last night.”

“From where?”

“From here. I cooked.”

“You cooked?” His voice was full of doubt. He went straight to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “This here?” He pulled out a covered dish, put it on the counter, and took the top off. “It looks good. What is it?”

She felt proud. “A chicken and linguine casserole my aunt taught me how to make.” She smiled. “Turned out pretty good too.”

He smiled back. “Are you game for me to try it? I am starving, by the way.”

“Then how can I refuse?”

They prepared two plates, warmed them in the microwave, and took them to the dining room table. She let him take the first bite as she watched.

He pointed at the plate with his fork. “So you said your aunt made this?”

“I said I made it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He scooped another forkful. “It’s delicious, whether you made it or not. But if you really made it, I’m big impressed.”

Her head did a slight bow. “Thank you.”

Inside she was thrilled. Couldn’t wait to call Aunt Gwynn and tell her that her step-by-step directions—which for Libby were broken down to half-step by half-step—had actually worked. Beautifully.

They continued with the meal over small talk. Libby even mentioned her trip to New Jersey to see family, but without going into detail.

Omar gestured toward the other end of the table. “So what were you working on before I got here? You’ve got a lot of books over there.”

“Yeah. Bible, concordance, word study dictionary . . . I’m doing some digging. Learning about God, me, life . . .”

“What brought that on?”

“I think a lot of things jump-started it.” Libby had asked herself that question and didn’t know where to begin. “But the culmination came on that trip to Jersey. Long talks with my family, visiting their church . . . I feel like I’m on this expedition, trying to see what I find.”

“I think it’s cool to tap into your spiritual side.” He picked up their plates and carried them into the kitchen. “Maybe some of it’ll rub off on me.”

When he returned, he lifted her by the hand and looked into her eyes. “Why don’t I get us a glass of wine and we can relax in the bedroom, maybe watch a movie.” He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist. “And after the movie, I’ll let you know my other ideas for the night.”

Her skin tingled with a yes. She’d missed him. Maybe her feelings for him were more than she thought.

He kissed her, and she was intoxicated with the feeling it gave her . . . until her mind carried it through to her bedroom and waking up beside him tomorrow morning, and how that would make her feel. That wasn’t what she wanted, a momentary thrill that ultimately meant nothing. She couldn’t explain why. It just wasn’t. Not anymore.

“Omar, I can’t.”

He kissed the side of her lips. “Can’t what?”

She took a step back. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I understand if you’re tired.” He held her fingertips. “But you’ve still got to relax. What if we at least start the movie? If you fall asleep, you fall asleep.”

His words and his touch pulled her in again. She didn’t want to be alone. But was this the type of companionship she yearned for?

She took a big breath. If she didn’t do it right now, she wouldn’t do it.

Libby walked away from him to the door. “Omar, you have to go.”

His brow creased. “You’re saying I can’t even stay with you? I told you, Libby, I understand if you don’t want to—” He stopped. “Are you gaming me again? Some other guy is on his way over here?”

“No,” Libby said.

He came closer. “Then what’s going on? The way you kissed me, I know there’s still something there.”

“It’s this journey I’m on,” she said. “I want to be focused. If I let my heart and soul get distracted, I might miss what I’m really after, though I’m not even sure what that is.”

“If you want to know the truth, you seem confused.”

Libby smiled faintly. “I know. That’s my aim, to clear it up.” She opened the door.

“Call me when you’re done with all your digging.”

She nodded. “Bye, Omar.”

Libby returned to the table, heaving a heavy sigh. Turning back to where she was, she continued reading in the book of Romans. She’d always been fascinated watching legal arguments on Court TV. Who’d have thought that the apostle Paul making his case for the gospel could be as riveting?