“You don’t need to.” She stood. “I’ll be going with my parents.” Then she exited the room.
CHAPTER 26
She was such a child. She’d known that as she’d argued with Luc last weekend, part of her wanting to stop, while something else spurred her on. She’d known so much of what he’d said was true, but hadn’t wanted to face it. Like he’d said, she might be bold on the dance floor, and able to whip a non-dancing hockey player into a Patrick Swayze wannabe, but she couldn’t speak honestly with her parents or whip her own feelings into the right shape. And now he’d left on a weeklong road trip and she wouldn’t have the chance to speak to him face-to-face and deal with the strain that had crept up between them.
Her shoulders slumped as a few raindrops spattered on the office’s window. There was so much she needed to say to him, so much to confess. Like Dance Off’s official offer for her to be part of another season, and the tour. She couldn’t keep hiding things simply because she was worried he mightn’t like it. That was no way to be real in a relationship.
Luc might’ve departed on a road trip for warmer climes, but his words hadn’t left, rising and falling like waves on the sea. He’d been right, and she’d denied it. And she knew she needed God’s help to push past the years that had shaped her into being this way.
She leaned her head against the glass and closed her eyes. “Lord, I’m so sorry. I need Your help but I barely know what to ask. You know my family all like to tiptoe around the truth, but it’s not healthy, is it?”
Today’s morning Bible reading came to mind. Jesus cracking the whip at the sellers in the Temple. Some might view Jesus as meek and mild but there had been times when He’d been as bold as a lion. And while she could be bold in some areas, other areas—other people—had always made her second-guess what was right. How could she honor her parents and call out her father?
“Lord, give me wisdom to know what to say and when. And please bless Luc in all he’s doing. Help him know I still care. Amen.”
She probably didn’t need to pray that last one though. She could always call him, or send a text, or—
“Bailey?”
Her mom’s voice opened her eyes, and she turned to clasp her in a hug. “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be.”
“I finished my errands faster than I thought, and…” She peered at Bailey. “Honey? Is everything okay?”
She straightened at her mother’s voice. Pasted a smile on her—but no. Wasn’t this more of the pretending that Luc had said she often did? Maybe it was time to speak openly, honestly, and not just about right now but what had gone on before too.
“Actually, Mom, no.”
Her mom blinked, her automatic response whenever bad news dared pass the lips of her child, then she went into phase two: nervous hovering. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Bailey blew out a breath. If they were going to have this conversation, they needed to be somewhere they could be businesslike, and not get caught in sidetracks and emotion. “Mom, I would really like to ask you a few things, but not here.”
“Then where?”
“Can we—?” No, that was more of the same waffling type of conversation she’d always used. She needed to be honest, be direct, speak the truth. “I would like to go to the Coffee Haus.”
“Where you used to work?”
“Exactly. I haven’t been there for a while, but you know the coffee is good.”
“Then sure.”
She motioned to Poppy who was leading a gentle Pilates class for older ladies and walked with her mom the few blocks to the café. Max was behind the coffee machine, and welcomed her with a half-smile. “It’s our celebrity.”
Bailey introduced her mom, placed her order, and went to pay, but Max waved off her card. “I saw all the mentions, and I might’ve boasted a few times about how you two met here, so I feel like it’s only fair that you benefit from me benefitting off you.”
“God bless you.”
Max looked startled for a moment, unsurprising as Bailey had never really owned her faith with the staff here before. But even that was something she should’ve done long ago. Regrets chased her. She offered a smile, less big and fake, smaller but more genuine, and gestured for her mom to take a place on the comfy couch. This conversation was bound to get uncomfortable, so they might as well find what softness they could.
“What’s wrong, Bailey?”
Lord, please help me be honest. She swallowed. “I had an argument with Luc after we left you on Saturday night.”
“You never said anything on Sunday.”
Because she’d been trained to not tell the truth. But even that was a cop-out. She was nearly twenty-five, for goodness’ sake. It was time to stop acting like a child. “I didn’t say anything on Sunday because I get the feeling that Dad doesn’t like Luc.”
“Oh, darling, that’s not true.”
Bailey eyed her mother. “Isn’t it?”
“You know he’s concerned about you.”
“Do you like Luc?” She could high-five herself at being so bold.
“Of course I do.”
Her shoulders relaxed. But she needed to press on, say this while courage remained. “His tattoos don’t bother you? You’re not worried about him being too old?”
“Of course I’m not worried. He’s a lovely man, and very generous, too.”
“He was generous, but did you know that nobody in our family said thank you to him?”
“That can’t be right.”
“Maybe Rhett said something, but I didn’t hear him or anyone else say thank you for the tickets to the game or the dinner at his house.”
