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Authors: Taryn A. Taylor

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BOOK: Mr. Wrong
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“It’s so cool, huh?”
Linda leaned against the wall next to her.

Sara
felt a little defensive of Rob, maybe because she’d been the one to get him to come to church in the first place. “As long as he joins because he knows it’s true, not because he likes someone.” Her voice was soft, but she tried to sound firm.

Linda frowned.
“What are you talking about?”

Sara
turned to make sure Rob didn’t hear. “I just mean, let him find his own testimony before you put him under your spell, okay.”

Linda raised her eyebrow.
“My spell? I think you give me too much credit.” She pulled away from Sara. “He’s different though. He really wants answers.” She looked back at Sara with a challenging look on her face. “And so what if I think he’s cute, too?” Linda walked away.

Sara
looked back, seeing Rob reading from the
Book of Mormon
with the missionaries. “I hope he wants them.”

She
turned, running into Carey.


Sara.”

She
stopped, but didn’t turn around. “What do you want?”

He hesitated
, bunching his fists and setting his jaw. “I still need your article before tomorrow.”

Sara
didn’t budge. She got paid very little for writing her Beatrice articles, but she did it mostly for the practical experience and elective credits. She turned around slowly. “Did you ever love Sue? Or was that just a sham?”

Carey’s serious face turned to sadness.
“I thought I did.” He shrugged looking a little lost. “I just thought I might love someone else too. And, I thought she might love me.” He stared into her eyes.

Sara
was stunned at the loss on his face. And, for a second, she wondered if it was all her fault.

Carey pushed his chin in the air
, coughing into his fist. “I need it emailed to me by eight a.m.”

 

Chapter 14

 

Bishop Archibald surveyed Sara’s institute class with his intense owl-like eyes. She loved him. He always packed his classes because of his depth of knowledge on all church related subjects and the individual interest he took in each student.

He’d spent
the last hour breaking down the banking situation in Kirtland, Ohio when the saints had lived there. He explained that when Joseph Adler and others had tried to secure their own banking charter, banks were failing all over the United States. “And what—my dear pupils,” Bishop Archibald said, looking over his glasses at the end of his nose, “did Brother Joseph say to Parley Pratt when he came to him and asked for forgiveness?” He scanned the room like a wise owl. Sara tried to read the homework quickly. Institute homework tended to be at the bottom of her pile. Now she was regretting it.

A student cleared his
throat. “It says here that Joseph frankly forgave him.”

Sara
looked up and saw Beau just to the side and behind her. How did she miss him, and why was he in this class?

“Exactly
, Brother Hennings. I knew you’d be a great addition to our class.” Bishop Archibald took off his glasses and walked to the other side of the room.

“I want to remind you that, at this time in church history, it was very difficult for the Prophet Joseph. He was under attack publicly and there was much contention in the church. And this was one of his most trusted friends. This was a man that Joseph trusted with his life. And he had betrayed him. What quality do you think Joseph possessed that gave him the capacity to forgive so easily?”

The class was quiet
for a minute.

“Love.”

Bishop Archibald smiled and his whole beard-filled face lit up. “Exactly. Thank you, Sister Jones.”

Beau spoke softly.
“But it wasn’t just any kind of love. It was Christ-like love.”

Bishop
Archibald looked at Beau with surprise on his face. “Yes, I do agree.” He paused. “And, what, exactly, do you think that is?”

“Well
. . .”

Sara
was amazed to see that Beau looked a little unsure of himself.

“I guess it is the kind of love that doesn’t have an ounce of pride.
The kind of love that forgives no matter what he thinks has been unjustly taken from him.” His voice was soft and thoughtful.

Sara
thought about her father being unjustly taken from her. At least, that’s how it felt. She’d never had a mother. And that was okay with her. But—she’d been feeling like he was being unfairly taken from her, too. Lately, on the edges of her thoughts, there was anger toward the Lord that she tried to push away.

B
ishop Archibald rubbed his beard slowly. He looked back to the book, and his eyes got watery. “The kind of love Brother Joseph possessed was indeed from the Lord.” He pointed up. “And now, look at the time, I leave you with one thought . . . do you have that kind of love for your fellow man? And, of course, woman?” He smiled at them all and nodded. “Until Thursday my brothers and sisters. Let’s have a closing prayer.”

Beau stepped past her desk.
“Ms. Fairbanks.”

Pulled from her thoughts she stared up at him.
When he was teaching her Entrepreneurship class he was totally polished, funny, and completely credible. He was an awesome professor. But now looking up into his blue eyes—she saw his vulnerable side. And she didn’t know what to say to him. “Professor Hennings.”

He walked
toward the door, and Bishop Archibald reached his hand out to him. “Beau—can we talk in my office for a minute? I didn’t get a chance to see you on Sunday.”

Beau nodded
, and Sara thought he looked a little nervous. “That would be great.”

**

Sara felt relieved as she got out of her car and walked toward her apartment. It was Friday, and she had the weekend to regroup. They’d only been back for two weeks, and she felt like she had two months’ worth of homework. She stepped into the apartment and knew, just by looking at Genova, what she was going to tell her.

“He didn’t.
” Sara put her hand out, demanding to see a ring on Genova’s finger.

Genov
a laughed and stuck out her hand like a little girl showing off her new piece of costume jewelry. Sara inspected the very small diamond on her friend’s finger. “It’s beautiful.” She hugged Genova to her. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Can you believe it?”
Genova pushed her hand out, gazing at it like it was four carats.

“Let me guess.”
Sara cupped her mouth like she had a megaphone. “He did it over the PA in Prexis Pasture.”

Genova
laughed. “No, silly. He was so sweet. When I walked in the apartment this afternoon he’d put together a pathway of roses, and he was down on his knee in front of a chocolate cake, my favorite, of course.” She put her hand to her chest dramatically. “Then he—,” her voice broke and her eyes got teary, “he told me he wanted to bake chocolate cakes for me for the rest of our lives.” Genova sobbed happily.

Sara
wrapped her arms around her. “That is awesome.” She could feel her friend’s happiness radiating off of her like waves of sonar energy piercing into her soul.

Genova
sniffed and pulled away. “We want a Christmas wedding.” Genova laughed and her eyes sparkled. “I can’t believe it, Sara. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.” She stopped abruptly and her smile got even wider. “You and Jonathon can have a double wedding with us.” She clapped her hands together excitedly.

“No.
” Sara shook her head back and forth quickly, resolved they would not even discuss that.

Genova
frowned and all the energy seemed to drain out of her. “You’ve always said it would most likely be Christmas, why not?” She looked like she would cry.

Sara
collapsed onto the couch. “Oh, it’s just . . . lately it’s been . . .” She stalled, not wanting to make her friend sad on such a happy occasion.

Genova
wiped her face and nodded in understanding. “It’ll work out, Sara. I know you’ve been worried lately. But Jonathon and you are meant to be together. I can feel it.” She hugged herself and spun in a circle dramatically. “Just like Kevin and I are meant to be together.”

Sara
smiled in agreement. “Absolutely.” She thought about Martha and Larry and the sad look on his face when Martha had talked about this same thing.

Sara
stood and hugged Genova, again. “I’m going to go get ready to watch Rob play tonight. I’m so totally excited for you guys.”

Genova
waved at her and picked up her phone. “Kevin is coming back; we already called our parents, but there are so many details to work out.” She turned toward the kitchen and put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom . . .”

Sara
’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was her brother Mark’s number. She flipped it open. “Hello.”

“You’ve got to come.
The doctor says it could be any time. Dad’s been asking for you.” His voice was rough. She could picture him pacing out in front of their house with the big rose bushes behind him.

Sara
inhaled, feeling the familiar fear grip her chest. “What’s happened?” She knew the situation was bad—it was always bad right now.

“They put him on morphine.
And you know when that happens it means the end is near. Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.
I’ll leave tomorrow morning. I’ll see you guys Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay.
Love you, sis.”

“Love you too.”
Sara sat on her bed to steady herself. She had known this was coming, but she realized that she wasn’t prepared—not really. She didn’t know how long she would have to be gone. She got a notebook and started making a list of everything she needed to pack and all the professors she needed to email.


Sara, is everything okay?” Genova stood in the doorway with her jacket on.

Blinking rapidly, she tried to contain the emotion in her voice.
“Umm. My brother called, they’re gathering the family.” Sara felt like a robot. She stood and got a bag from under her bed then opened her dresser and started throwing things into the bag.

Genova
sat down. “I’m sorry, what can I do?”

“Nothin
g, thanks.” Sara tried to think of the best way to be efficient right now. She opened her laptop. She needed to email her article for the paper too. She was relieved it was done. “I’ll leave in the morning. I just need to get things organized right now.” She turned back to her dresser, thinking she might need extra clothes if she stayed longer.


Sara,” Genova said, standing and touching her shoulder, “are you really okay?”

Sara
looked into her friend’s eyes, seeing pity and sadness. She pushed her hand away. “I’ll be fine.” There was no time for this. The semester had just started, and she needed to be able to focus. How would she keep her scholarship if she couldn’t focus?

Genova
sighed. “Sara, do you need to borrow some money?”

Money.
That was something that she hadn’t thought about. Her checking account with two hundred dollars in it. Maybe one of her brothers could give her a loan to get her through. “I’ll be okay.” She turned to Genova, not wanting all of this to weigh on her big day. “Really,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “It’s okay.” She pasted on a big smile. “Look, go do what you had planned; we’ll talk later.”

Genova
didn’t look convinced.

“Really, I have to get this stuff ready
; we’ll talk later.” She couldn’t take a heart-to-heart right now, she needed to focus.

“I’ll stay and help you.”
Genova took her jacket off.

“No.”
Sara walked Genova to the door. “I’m fine. I’ll see you in a little bit. Have fun.” Pushing her out, she closed the door quickly.

Her father
was an efficient person. He would want her to be efficient right now. She turned back to her computer and sent off her Beatrice article and a note to her professors, telling them the situation. He couldn’t die. She closed her eyes. He was her whole world. She pushed everything off of her bed and reached for the pillow. She tucked it into her face and sobbed.

 

Chapter 15

 

Beau banged the door with his fist. This was the address listed on the student directory he’d pulled up with his phone. He didn’t know why he was wasting his time coming over here. He only knew that he was unreasonably angered when Sara hadn’t shown up at the Cowboy.

He leaned against the door and banged a final time.
It was a Friday night, for crying out loud; she was either ignoring him or not at home.

The door whipped open
; Sara stood there. She looked like a zombie from a horror movie. Her hair was matted and her black makeup surrounded her eyes and leaked down into the creases on her nose. Her usually bright blue eyes were bloodshot. “You’re looking rested,” Beau quipped, sticking his foot into the door. “Rob was upset you weren’t there.”

BOOK: Mr. Wrong
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