And acceptance.

He looked away. "I thought you forgot that."

"I guess I did, until now."

As if released from a cage, he reached for my face with both hands and brought it to his. His kiss, though gentle, forced back my every fear, reinforced my every hope and threatened my decision not to use Dahlia's money to marry him.

He pushed himself away from me and licked his lips. "You know I'm down with the island wedding thing, but I'm not sure if I can handle another man footing the bill."

I pulled him back. "Ah. Control issues. I knew there was something wrong with you. What do you think about a small ceremony in the pastor's office at the end of the month? Surprise me with the details."

Adrian c.o.c.ked his headways and let a crooked grin rip across his face. "Now that sounds like a plan. I think I'll die if we go on like this much longer. I have my water heater set to freezing as it is."

"I want to laugh, but mine is probably set lower." Working with Adrian every day hadn't been easy.

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. He chuckled uneasily, leaning toward me again. "Don't be mistaken though. If you want to do the island thing, I'll have to set my pride aside. I'll marry you in a minute. Anytime. Anywhere." He patted his suit pocket. "I keep my Altoids ready."

I tried not to cry. How did G.o.d take all the broken pieces of my life and somehow make them into something, someone, so beautiful?

His lips brushed my cheek. "Just tell me again that you want to be my wife. When I get home tonight, I'll have this all messed up."

That made me giggle some. I had always been the one wondering, hoping, trying to figure out what was going on.... There was no more time for confusion or fear.

"Let me show you." I let all my fears go and leaned forward, tilting his chin down so as not to miss one inch of the mouth I'd been missing all this time. I laid a kiss on that man the likes of which I'd never felt. It wasn't long-I was too chicken-but it was long enough to convince him that I wasn't looking to be his buddy.

A silly grin stared back at me. "See, that's what I'm talking about. End of the month, you say?"

I nodded. He could be so funny sometimes.

Adrian wasn't laughing. "I know there's lots of water under our bridge, but I'm willing to swim through it to make a future for us." He grabbed my wrist, then let go. "Let's not go back, okay? Let's just be here, Dane. Right now."

I propped up on my elbows, considering his words. Not go forward or back? Be all here? What a concept. If only I could duct-tape my mind to the present. I mustered a smile. "My lipstick looks good on you."

It didn't deter him. "I hope so. I plan to wear it every day. So, what will you do with the money?"

"I have an idea, but it seems selfish."

He shook his head. "Dana, you feel guilty for going to bed at night. You almost died, okay? Don't be afraid to love yourself. Please don't, as you would say. How can you love me, if you don't love you?"

Daddy's fake snoring spewed into the hall. I ignored it. This was too taxing for me to divide my attention. Did I know how to love myself? It sounded so...wrong. "Isn't that un-Christian? We're supposed to die to ourselves and all that...."

Adrian nodded, setting me upright and pulling me to him. "Yes, we must die to self, Dane. But don't literally die. You've spent your life celebrating others. It's okay to do something special between you and the Lord. Why not take your girlfriends on a Sa.s.sy Sistah getaway?"

It was a great idea, but I had something else in mind. I squirmed, searching for a way to explain.

Understanding filled Adrian's eyes. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? Okay, I'm going to hush, as you ladies like to say. Tell me what you want and if you want me to help in any way."

I trembled with excitement and not only about my plans. Though we weren't married yet, Adrian's little power bursts had been on my prayer lists each day after work-alongside his prayers for my mood swings and wishy-washiness, I'm sure. "Okay, don't laugh, but...I think I want to do that 'Marry Your Maker' thing you came up with for the sales event. Like a wedding, but to Jesus-a sort of rededication. Do you think a cake would be too much?"

Adrian laughed. "Not if you want one. But don't get me started or I'll open that phone and order one. I'm staying out of this. I'll help with the errands, but the choices are up to you. I think I've done enough with the shop."

I frowned. "Well, I do appreciate what you've done with the shop, but..."

"It's too much, huh?" He looked like a building was about to fall on him.

What fool tells a man he's giving her too much? It seemed ridiculous, but if this marriage was going to work, we both had to be honest. "It's a little too much maybe. I know this is all old hat to you, but this is my first shot at a business. While I appreciate your help..."

He took off his gla.s.ses and set them on the table, then draped his arm around me. "I get it and I apologize. The marketing fever, it gets to me. But it is your shop. I mean that."

"I almost believe you." I ducked, but he caught me and kissed me. This getting married stuff was all right.

"Just think about what you like, what's fun for you. Remember how you used to send yourself roses for Valentine's and everyone thought they were from me?"

Now why did he have to go there? I punched his arm. "That was middle school! I just wanted some flowers, okay?"

He kissed my nose. "Yes, it is is okay. That's what I'm saying." okay. That's what I'm saying."

Plans for my celebration flitted across my mind. "What if I just took the money and paid everyone's way to Jamaica and had a simple ceremony on the beach?"

He closed his eyes, then opened them adding a toothy grin. "I think that-would be awesome. I have only one request."

My head inched upward as if trying to avoid a hook punch. Did he want to pick my dress? "What?"

"Can I be your man of honor? You'd have to promise not to hit me with the flowers of course-"

I kissed him silent. "No promises about the flowers, but I'd be blessed to have you stand up for me, first as my man of honor and then as my husband."

He kissed me back. "Promise?"

I dragged him to the door by his tie. "Promise."

As I padded down the hall to my room, my father's voice stabbed into the hall. "Well, Nella, you didn't live to see it, but I think those two are finally getting married. The pastor's office ain't the way I would go, but we'll take it, won't we? Yes. We'll take it."

With a chuckle, I dove into my bed, fully dressed on the outside and my heart bare within.

"This is so exciting. Just like that logo I drew."

"Pretty much." Tracey was such a hoot with her a.s.sociations, though this one wasn't too off base. "So can you two make it? I know it's short notice."

Her voice changed. "Both of us? Ryan, too? I was thinking just the girls. I'd love to get to know Austin better. I'm loving having her on the loop now. She's sweet."

I agreed, but sensed something else afoot.

Tracey continued. "Besides, I need to get away, maybe stay in Jamaica for the week? I can pay the extra-"

Find another scapegoat.

"What's wrong now? I thought things were better between you and Ryan. Did he do something?"

I could imagine her squirming, shifting the phone from ear to ear. "Did he do something? He's done nothing." She paused. "And everything! He shaves his face and leaves these hunks of hair everywhere. He washed his car with my face towels-"

Oh, no. "Not the pink ones?" I'd once used her yellow set to wipe up some spaghetti sauce and seen a side of Tracey I'd never known existed. One of my ears still pointed east as a result of the cuffing she gave me, with an oven mitt, no less.

"Yes. The pink towels...and the new yellows, too. He used those on his tires!" She half sobbed, half screamed the last part, while I felt for a seat. Roch.e.l.le had Jericho and Tracey had her towels. I knew better than to mess with either. Somehow Ryan hadn't picked up on his wife's affinity for linens. Should we have written him a memo about the untouchables?

"I, uh, well...I'm so sorry. But he's a guy, Tracey. They don't always think about these things."

"Oh, no, he's not a guy. Adrian is a guy. Ryan is a pig! You know what he did on our little 'light the fire' weekend, the one that was going to make everything better? Watched NASCAR and worked! We went to the beach one day. Then the cell phone that he promised not to bring suddenly appeared and started ringing. I was too ashamed to tell you guys."

I nodded my head, silently remembering the phone's prominent display on the few outings I'd had with Ryan. It was as if he'd been saying, "You're nice and all, but this phone here? She's my real woman. Didn't want there to be any confusion." And there wasn't. I'd figured out very quickly that neither Ryan nor his phone were the next big thing in my life. Why had Tracey taken until now to figure it out? Probably that whole not waiting till the wedding thing she'd divulged at her baby shower. Hard to believe that I was the sensible one for once. "Well, Tracey, you'll get used to it."

Somehow.

"I thought I would get used to it, but I can see now that I let that diamond and...other things cloud my judgment. I feel like I'm waking up from months of sleeping."

What a word picture. The phrase "I told you so" bounced around in my head, but I squelched it like the evil it was. That was the last thing she needed to hear. "Hey, it's not so bad. This is how it is for everybody at first."

Her voice perked up a bit. "Really?"

"Really." I hoped not. Until this conversation, I'd really been considering skipping my little dedication ceremony and getting married instead. We had all the paperwork done. The end of the month seemed years away. But listening to Tracey, I realized how difficult marriage could be if I tried to do it without being grounded in G.o.d. Adrian was a good man, but he was still a man. And G.o.d knows I can be a real piece of work myself. "It'll just take some getting used to. It's like Roch.e.l.le said in that devo yesterday-"

"That's the problem."

"What? Ch.e.l.le?"

"No-me. I've been deleting the devotionals, skipping my turn, not reading my Bible. It's like I'm having a showdown with Ryan...and G.o.d. I try to pray, but I just can't. I know He's going to tell me to let go of my anger and I don't want to! My husband is wrong!"

I took a long breath and ran my tongue over my lips, which still went numb from time to time. What a price anger had exacted in my life. Tracey's words made me cringe at first, but only because they could have once come from my own mouth. Even worse than her, I'd kept doing my "Jesus stuff"-church, Bible study, devotionals-and kept my anger, too.

"Tracey, believe it or not, I understand the angry frustrated thing. I do. But we both know that we can't stay here." When had she she become become we? we? "G.o.d doesn't want us to hold on to this stuff. It's poison. Go back in there and talk to your husband. Tell him calmly what you told me and pray on the rest. Let's just see what the Lord is going to do." "G.o.d doesn't want us to hold on to this stuff. It's poison. Go back in there and talk to your husband. Tell him calmly what you told me and pray on the rest. Let's just see what the Lord is going to do."

The Tracey I knew and loved responded from the other side of the receiver. "I love him. I really do. I just didn't figure it would be like this. I guess I haven't been exactly praying for him, either..."

"See? There you go. Just take a step. Sow a seed to righteousness. The next one might be easier to toss."

"Umph, umph, umph. Girl, you always know just what to say."

Sure do. Except to myself.

I stayed silent, knowing she'd talk it through. This listening thing was really cool if you could get the hang of it.

"I guess a trip to Jamaica won't hurt. I know I'm nearing the end of my pregnancy and I'm all crazy, too."

Nearing the end? Had it been that long? "Will you be okay to fly?"

"Sure. I've got a few weeks yet. My only problem was flying with him."

"You're too much. Now scoot, before Ryan thinks the phone has swallowed you." I really wanted to get off the phone so I could call Adrian. We talked a lot, now that we'd allowed ourselves to relax a little. Very little. It didn't take much to get us going. Still, I was starting to wish I hadn't invited everyone to Jamaica. More and more, I wanted to spend time with just Adrian. But without being married, he and I being alone on a beautiful beach pretty much wasn't going to happen. I closed my eyes. Maybe we could get married before we went and have that as a honeymoon. The phone beeped. "Tracey, you still there? I think that's Adrian."

She giggled. "I'm going. Pray for me, okay?"

I'd been praying since the day they announced their engagement. "Will do."

I pressed the b.u.t.ton and listened for Adrian's voice. There it was, real and smooth. Strong. He bid me good-night, told me he loved me and said a short prayer. He was exhausted, I could tell. I prayed, too, and we said our goodbyes. It was a simple thing, those few minutes at night, but they meant a lot. I pulled the headset off my ears and let it dangle around my shoulders, before dragging myself to the back bedroom to grab some bath fizzies just for me-pineapple, coconut and orange with a few drops of Vanilla Smella added in. And of course, one candle.

Island Wedding.

Peace.

It was a hard sell at first, especially since I could only pay for a few people and the whole church was still convinced I was going to marry Adrian anyway, but didn't want them to be there. Once I explained about my "Marrying My Maker" ceremony, my plans were being discussed and duplicated all over town.

And that was okay. Most women I knew had spent their lives caring for other people and never so much as lit a candle for themselves. I certainly wasn't any expert in this allowing-G.o.d-to-love-on-me thing, but it was time to learn, especially if Adrian's planning was anything near what he kept hinting at for our wedding. Roch.e.l.le thought I was unwise to let him plan it, but just doing this ceremony was driving me mad. He wanted to give me something and for once, I was going to allow myself to receive. For now, I had Jesus to get ready for.

I prepped myself with small wonders at first, fresh roses for my dinner table, tea with Austin on Mama's china, taking out my hair extensions and getting my own hair braided, with cowrie sh.e.l.ls in unexpected places.

Though I only had two weeks to plan, my ceremony of redemption and renewal came together so smooth even I couldn't believe it. All those travelogues from Adrian with notes in the margin didn't hurt, either. The sight of Seven Mile Beach took my breath away and from the looks of its dog-eared page, Adrian liked it, too. Some days I got overwhelmed with it all and considering canceling. How could I do such a frivolous thing? Whenever I doubted my worthiness, I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, You are bought with a price...a daughter of the King. You are bought with a price...a daughter of the King.

And so, I pressed on, sending out jasmine-scented linen notes written in Daddy's calligraphy to remind travelers where to be, and to remind Adrian that I loved him. The travel agency, familiar with vacation weddings, picked up the flowers and decorations, leaving me only with a dress to choose. I took my array of pastel sheaths on the rounds for my friends and family to see.

My sister picked pink. Roch.e.l.le, lime. Tracey used Photoshop to change the lemondrop-colored dress into a multicolored rose print. "Dana's Garden," she'd named the file. Adrian smiled, but said nothing. When we were alone, I asked him why he hadn't expressed a preference.

"They're all nice, but it's your choice."

"Uh-huh." He couldn't fool me that easily.

He shrugged. "Why not white?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I think you know exactly why not."

He shook his head. "See, that's your flesh talking. You're forgetting who you are. Who G.o.d is. It's your decision, but when you go back, consider trying on the white."

Though I'd decided against it, on a whim before I left the store empty-handed, I did try on something white. Adrian might have heard me screaming six blocks away. Forty pounds slimmer than I'd been in years, I still hadn't braved so much as a white towel, much less a straight dress. But this one with a gauzy jacket and bows at the hem was perfect. Just perfect.

It occurred to me that on the day I got saved, I'd found Trevor and Dahlia together and now I'd recommit again on a happy day, but one that found the two of them apart. I'd invited them both to the ceremony, even offered to pay their way-with their own money, don't you just love that? Though still in pastoral counseling and spending more time apart these days than together, they agreed, admitting that they wanted to reconnect with Jesus and makeover that day, as well. They only had one stipulation.

"Invite us to your wedding, too. And we'll do likewise."

I smiled, excited at the thought of keeping both promises.

The seating on the plane worked out with me next to Austin, her hubby across the way and Roch.e.l.le on the other side of him. I could see Adrian's head if I leaned down and to the right. We switched seats so Austin and Josh could be together, but Adrian let Roch.e.l.le stay next to me. He knew both of us all too well. She needed some girl time. Jericho, Daddy and Shemika were two rows in front of us discussing the Bradley birthing method or some such foolishness. Dad kept emphasizing that it was also known as the husband-coaching method of birth. I have to give it to him. He never lets up. Dahlia, Trevor and my niece were all together in first cla.s.s, looking too good for us to be mad at 'em. To my surprise, Jordan had showed up at the send-off with a packed bag and now sat three rows behind us. He'd insisted on coming to escort Roch.e.l.le down the aisle with the rest of Christ-maids or whatever they were. I was thankful to them both, knowing the tension between them.