Changing Her Heart (15 page)

“I tried, but he won't talk about it.”

“Well…” Bob turned to the side as he continued to pack up his drum set, so he couldn't actually see Randy as he was talking about him. He didn't want to tell Lacey anything Randy didn't want her to know, but he could tell Lacey what he saw from his own perspective, and then she could be her own judge and draw her own conclusions.

“I don't remember anything tragic, as you say, and I wouldn't say he had a bad childhood, but if there were ever two people who shouldn't have had kids, it was Randy's parents. Maybe he was an afterthought, I don't know. But he was always left alone so much and it ate at him. I guess you've learned that Randy is quite a social animal.”

“Yes. He seems to know people everywhere. And if he doesn't, he gets to know them quickly.”

“Yet, he was quiet as a kid. He would brood for
days when his parents forgot his birthday, which, unfortunately, was often. Nothing any of us could do made any difference. Mama used to throw huge birthday parties for him when he was with us on his birthday. Bigger than ours.” He smiled. “But none of us minded. We knew that a big party didn't make up for him being away from his family.”

“Maybe it was hard for them to call from wherever in the world they were. Communications were a lot different twenty years ago than they are today.”

Bob grinned. “Yeah. I think Randy has every electronic communications device known to man. Maybe that's why. Have you seen his cell phone?”

Lacey smiled back. “Of course.”

Bob's smile faded. “I tried to tell him that the first time, that they must have not had access to international long distance, or that it was too expensive, and he kind of went along with it, but the next year they forgot his birthday, too, and they were home that year. They actually forgot a lot. I don't know how. They also kept promising that one day they'd get him a dog, and they never did. I don't think Randy ever got over that. Why are you asking about Randy's drinking?”

“Because of yesterday.”

“He wasn't drunk. I heard that he had a bad reaction to some medication.”

“That may be true, but I know he was drinking. I smelled it.”

Bob's movements froze for a few seconds. “Really? I find that almost impossible to believe. It doesn't seem right.”

“I'm not lying.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, but it just doesn't make sense. You should have seen him when we were practicing. He was devastated that you wouldn't talk to him. I remember what he was like when he was hungover, even though it's been a number of years. He wasn't like that this morning. He's a little slow on the draw today, but otherwise he seemed fine.” Just so sad, which normally wasn't like Randy at all. For the first time, he hadn't seen Randy singing while the worship team was practicing before the service. Randy didn't know that Bob knew what he did up there, but the drums were on a platform, so he was a bit higher up than the rest of the worship team, and he could see better across the sanctuary and into the sound booth window.

It was very telling that Lacey didn't look any happier than Randy did.

“He was sick and everything last night.”

Bob shrugged his shoulders. “I would have expected that. He gets the worst motion sickness I've ever seen. As kids, and even in our teens, I can't count the times we all had to get off the bus and wait while Randy was sick. Some of the bus drivers knew us and let us on for free, but often we had to pay a
second fare midtrip. I know we shouldn't have, but when that happened we always made Randy pay us back out of his allowance.”

“That's awful.”

“We were kids and we didn't have much money. But he got us back. He was the first one to get his driver's license and a car, and he always made us pay for gas. Kids usually grow out of the motion sickness, but Randy never did.”

Bob smiled at the memories, but his smile quickly faded. “I also remember that he was the first of us to experiment with drinking, except his parents never caught him. Either that, or they couldn't be bothered enough to do anything about it. Looking back, I wonder if that's why he overdid it so much. He was just waiting for someone besides us guys to care enough to tell him to stop, and no one ever did.”

“That's so sad.”

“I don't know. He seems to have gotten his act together. It just took a while.”

Bob purposely didn't mention the death of Randy's friend on what was the last day that Randy ever had a drink. He didn't want Lacey to feel sorry for Randy. He just wanted Lacey to love Randy. Bob knew that Randy definitely loved Lacey.

Bob hadn't seen his friend so torn up since the one-year anniversary of Karl's death. Randy hadn't
turned back to drinking then, and Bob didn't think Randy would now.

“All I can say is that you should talk to him and listen to what he says. Randy is a really nice guy, and all of us think you're perfect for each other.”

“You do? You've been talking about us?”

He couldn't hold back his grin. “That's what friends are for. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish up. And speaking of Randy, here he comes.”

Lacey stiffened. “I, uh, think I should be going.”

She turned, dashed off the stage and disappeared through the main door.

Bob sighed. Maybe not today, but tomorrow was another day, especially when the two of them worked next door to each other.

He paused for a minute, and prayed for God's will to happen.

“W
hat's the matter, loverboy? Why so glum?”

Randy wanted to tell Carol mind her own business, but being miserable was no excuse to be rude.

“I just didn't have a very good weekend. So drop it, okay.” He started piling a new shipment of phones onto the shelves, probably pushing them harder than he needed to.

“Whoa! Take it easy! Want to talk about it?”

Not with Carol he didn't. “No. Why don't you just leave me alone?”

As usual, Carol didn't take the hint. She stepped in front of the shelf he was trying to stock. “What did you do?”

“I didn't do anything.”

“Are you sure? She must at least think you did something.”

“She thinks I was drinking again.”

“Oh.”

For one of those rare moments in her life, Carol was silent.

But not for long. “Well? Were you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why would she think you were?”

“I don't know.” Although he knew he'd been acting strange from the combination of the allergy and the migraine medications, something in hindsight he knew he never should have mixed, but he'd needed both at the time. He'd taken a risk, and it had backfired on him. He remembered waking up on the carpet in Lacey's hallway, and he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. But he did remember getting sick on the bus, and Lacey dragging him inside.

He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I do know why she would have thought that. But it wasn't what it looked like.”

“What did it look like?”

He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, forcing the words out, because saying them out loud forced him to admit it was true. “It looked like I was drunk. But I wasn't.”

He couldn't blame Lacey for thinking the way she did, especially after all she'd seen in her family.

“Did you tell her that?”

“Not at the time. I was pretty incoherent, and then
I was sick. And now she won't answer my phone calls. She left me a text message that she never wants to see me again.”

“But that's based on a misunderstanding, isn't it? Or were you really drinking? Even just a little?”

“Of course not,” he barked. “I told you that already. Why does everyone always think the worst of me?”

“Actually, no one really does. I think you just think they think that. Yikes, now I'm even beginning to sound like you! If the same thing happened to me, what would you tell me to do?”

“I'd tell you that life is too short and too fragile to give up because of misunderstandings. I'd tell you to stand up for yourself and go make it right.”

“Okay. Then do it. Go. I'll cover for you.”

“Pardon me?”

“You said she won't answer your phone calls, so that means you have to talk to her in person. I happen to know she's the only one in the store right now, so you have, as they say, a captive audience. Now go get 'er, tiger.”

“Someone else said that to me recently. I can't remember who.”

“Then that means we're right. Now go.”

“And do what?”

Carol laughed. “I know you. You'll think of something.”

Randy stepped outside the store, but instead of
going next door into Lacey's store, he stopped to think. What did he really want? He wanted more than just to absolve himself. He also wanted more than to tell Lacey that he loved her. He wanted the same thing he'd wanted when he was getting ready for Bob's wedding, and that was a wedding of his own.

His hand drifted to his back pocket, to his wallet, where he'd stashed the Valentine card he'd meant to give Lacey, then never did.

Despite the poem he'd written declaring his love, an out-of-season greeting card wasn't enough.

Instead of turning to go to Lacey's store, Randy turned the other way.

He meant to go to the jeweler's to get a new engagement ring brochure that wasn't creased, but his feet skidded to a halt in front of the men's specialty store. He'd wanted to impress Lacey in the rented tuxedo, but Bob's wedding was over and he'd taken it back. However, nothing was stopping him from getting another one. Maybe even something a little more fancy and special, to show her how special she was. She certainly deserved to be treated special, especially after he'd acted like such an idiot in front of her.

It was hard to find something he liked in his size that didn't need alterations, but before too long,
Randy was dressed in a full tuxedo, complete with tails and even a top hat for a final touch.

He walked into the jeweler's, picked up another brochure for a selection of engagement rings, waved at the manager and strode out.

Rather than take a chance with his allergies, instead of going to the florist, Randy's next stop was the craft store.

He didn't have a lot of time to search for what he wanted, so he walked straight to the counter. “I'd like a silk red rose, please. One of those good ones that looks real. I don't need a bag.”

The woman looked him up and down, taking in every inch of his rented finery. “Would you like me to snip the price tag off and tie a lace ribbon around it for you? That would look really nice.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Thanks.” He smiled, then hesitated. “Or do you think that might be overdoing it a little?”

Again, she looked at the tuxedo, then up at his top hat. “No, I don't think so. It would be perfect.”

In only a few minutes, Randy continued on. He made a short stop to rummage through his backpack in his own store, ignoring Carol as she stared at him. He paused for a second to calm his nerves then and walked to the entrance of Lacey's store.

Randy quickly scanned the interior. Relief flooded through him that currently there were no customers
in the store. Lacey's back was to the entrance as she took advantage of the lull to unpack a selection of panty hose from a box and sort them into the slots.

Somehow, the location for what he was about to do seemed fitting.

“I'll be right with you,” she said, turning her head as she spoke. “I just have to—”

At the sight of him, the box dropped to the floor. Packages of panty hose scattered around her feet.

Randy held the rose in front of him and tipped the top hat with his other hand as he approached her. “Hi, Lacey.”

Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. “What are you doing here like that?”

Randy smoothed down the lapel of the jacket. “I think that should be obvious. I came here to court you.”

Her eyes widened, and she scanned him from head to toe, from the top of his rented top hat, to the toes of his new leather shoes.

He reached into the inside breast pocket of the jacket, pulled out his portable CD player, set it on top of one of the racks and hit play.

Sounds of romantic music began to play softly.

Still holding the rose, he handed her the Valentine card.

“It's not Valentine's Day. It's not even close.”

“I know. But that doesn't change the fact that
those words come from my heart. I wrote that poem myself. For you.”

Lacey began to cough, then cleared her throat. Randy waited while she read the card. He could tell when she got to the part where he'd written “I'll love you forever” because she made a little gasp.

“We have to talk. I know what it looked like at the wedding, but I wasn't drunk at Bob's wedding. It was a bad mix of medications that I shouldn't have taken at the same time.”

Her eyes narrowed. “When you ran off, I checked the drink you left on the table. It was wine. I smelled it.”

Randy froze. “You did what?”

Her cheeks darkened, and she wouldn't look at him as she spoke. “You were acting so strange, and I saw you drinking an awful lot, so I checked out what was in your glass. It was wine. The real kind.”

“I was drinking the sparkling fruit juice all night. I usually don't let anyone put anything in my glass, but I do admit that I wasn't myself, and I let someone else top it up without paying attention. I took one mouthful, but I spit it out, then ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth.”

“You went to brush your teeth? In the middle of a wedding? Do you always carry a toothbrush?”

Randy squeezed his eyes shut for a couple of sec
onds. He had a feeling he was never going to hear the end of the one day he had a toothbrush in his pocket. If he ever did the same thing again, he vowed to himself that he would never tell anyone, for any reason.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said quietly, then cleared his throat. “It's a long story. But the point is that I didn't drink anything.”

“But you passed out on my floor. And you were sick. Although Bob told me that you still get motion sickness.”

Randy's cheeks burned. “I don't like people to know that. It's kind of embarrassing.”

“The point is that you passed out cold, lying on the floor. And then when I woke you up, you wrapped yourself around me and tried to kiss me.”

The burn in his cheeks extended to his ears. In the back of his mind, now that she mentioned it, he kind of remembered something. If not the actual experience, he remembered the overwhelming need to kiss her, and then it didn't happen.

“Then we must have been very close. You should have been able to smell alcohol on my breath. But you didn't.”

“No. All I could smell at the time was toothpaste. It was only a couple of seconds. All I know is that you were acting very drunk, and the glass you were drinking from contained alcohol. What am I supposed to think?”

Randy's hands fell to his sides. “There's a good reason for that. I have really severe allergies. That's why Bob and George didn't have any real flowers for the wedding. Everything was fake, including her bouquet. They did that for me. We'd made arrangements to go to a studio for the pictures, but the weather was so nice the photographer convinced everyone to go to the park. I didn't have anything on me, so I took someone else's allergy prescription. It got me over the hump, and I thought everything was going to be fine.”

“You forgot your medication, but you brought a toothbrush?”

Randy ignored that little aside. “Then at the wedding, the abrupt change of lighting when the video started, when I was already on the verge of a whopping headache, triggered a migraine.”

“One of my staff gets migraines. She's called in sick because of them. I've never had a headache so bad I've had to miss work.”

“A few people know about my allergies, but only Bob, Paul, Adrian and Bob's family knows about the migraines. I don't want anyone to know. I get what's called a ‘classic' migraine. First there's a flash of light, then I get a blind spot in my vision, which is surrounded by this glowing glare. I can't think of any better way to describe it. That quickly becomes a headache, and it escalates until it gets so bad I get
sick. Sometimes I can't even move. There is no cure, and no one really knows what causes them. I have these very expensive migraine meds that I take only in case of an emergency, or if it's so bad I want to die. I took one so I wouldn't ruin Bob's wedding. After all, I was the best man and MC. I was okay for a while, but it caught up with me, and you saw the end results.”

Lacey raised her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Randy! That's awful! I feel so sorry for you.”

Randy's face burned. “Don't. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I didn't want you to know at all.”

“Why not? Lots of people get migraines.”

“Because it's just one more weakness, and I have enough weaknesses.” He still held the rose in one hand, but he rammed his free hand into his pants pocket. “The drinking is bad enough, and I thought I'd been able to put it behind me. I do what I can to help others battle with it, but every once in a while, something comes back to haunt me. I know what it looked like, and I can see why you feel the way you do, so all I can do is to say that I'm telling the truth, and I'm asking you to believe me.” Randy sank down onto one knee, removed the top hat, pressed it over his heart and held the rose out toward Lacey. “And I want you to love me back, warts and all, the same way I love you. And that would be the forever kind of way. But first you have to trust me.”

“Trust you…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes, Lacey, this is what it's all about. Even if you love me the same way I love you, which I hope you do, what it all comes down to is trust. If you can't trust me then we have nothing, and I'll never bother you again. This has to be an all-or-nothing thing. What do you say?”

Randy's heart pounded so hard he felt lightheaded as he waited for her reply. It was a question he didn't want to ask, but that didn't change the fact that it was the only way. He couldn't be happy in a relationship knowing she didn't trust him, that she would always have doubts when something went wrong, because in life, sometimes things did go wrong. He needed her confidence, and needed to know that he would have her full support when he struggled with the problems life threw at him. He also knew Lacey couldn't be happy or comfortable over the long term if she was always worried that he was going to fall off the wagon.

“This is so hard. You have to understand what I've been through. The things I've seen. I can't live like that.”

“You won't have to live like that because I'm not like that. But what I say doesn't matter. You have to trust me, and trust that God is here, with us, and that He's always there to help. All we have to do is ask. I do that all the time.” In fact, he was doing that right now.

“Don't talk. Let me think.”

He expected her to say that she was going to need a few days, and he would have given her those few days. But instead of backing up, she stepped forward, accepted the rose and ran the fingers of her other hand over his cheek.

Randy closed his eyes and tipped his head, as if he could intensify the contact by leaning his face into her palm.