Rooms - James L. Rubart [58]
The next moment his arms slid around the sides of her waist from behind and pulled her back gently into his chest. He nuzzled her hair away from her cheek and kissed her there like the first ray of morning sun.
She turned, and this time his kiss was on her lips. Warm. Tender. Lingering. A long embrace followed that wrapped around her like a waterfall of comfort, drowning out the sound of the ocean, the wind, and everything else in her world. She was home.
A moment later her tears spilled onto her cheeks. If only it could last.
CHAPTER 23
Over the next week Micah took Sarah on two mountain bike rides and out to dinner three times. They watched Singin’ in the Rain, Casablanca, and Pride & Prejudice in his media room, followed each time by a walk on the beach and kisses that probably would have made anyone watching blush. He talked with her for hours about the house, not everything but enough to clear his head and hear her always-wise insights.
They talked more about their plan to do the STP bike race together next summer and maybe a triathlon as well. They definitely would hit the slopes as soon as Mount Bachelor opened their full set of chairlifts.
“You’ll make me look so bad on the snow,” Micah said as they strolled through the soft sand.
“Yep, I sure will.” Sarah laughed, grabbed him around the waist, and pulled him to the ground. “I’m kidding, it’s only July. There’s five months for me to teach you the secrets of skiing before we hit the snow.”
Was he in love? Not sure. But he was definitely in heavy, heavy like.
Although Sarah seemed to feel the same, there were times he spotted sadness in her eyes. Or fear. He couldn’t tell which. Maybe both. When he asked about it, she said it was nothing. He knew it wasn’t. And it felt like the sadness was directed at him.
But overall, by the time next Wednesday rolled off the calendar, he felt at peace. Nothing strange had happened in the house, and Shannon assured him daily that RimSoft was under control.
Maybe his life had stopped to catch its breath. Even Archie’s letter was positive and intriguing, in a good way.
July 22, 1991
Dear Micah,
I feel compelled, at this point in our journey together, to give notice of a particular room within your home. It is priceless and beyond the confines and restrictions of imagination. It is a room truly too wonderful for me to attempt description.
There is no need to try in any case, as I believe after reading this letter, you will find it soon. Remember the purpose of man: To know God intimately and enjoy Him forever.
In awe of the King,
Archie
P.S. Psalm 16:11: “You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.”
Micah found the room just after seven o’clock that evening. The smell that came from under the door intoxicated him—a potent mixture of roses and apple trees in full bloom. Light streamed out from under the door and made the hallway dim by comparison.
There was no knob, so he reached out to push open the door. But before his hand touched the wood, he stopped. Heat or coolness—he couldn’t tell which—radiated off the door. He touched his finger to the wood and yanked it away. Was the door scorching or refreshingly cool?
He touched it again. Longer this time. It was cool, like an alpine lake on the hottest day of summer. Micah put his entire hand on the door, but he forgot to push as an overwhelming sensation engulfed him.
It felt like a waterfall bursting open in the middle of his soul, then racing to see which end of his body it would reach first. Neither won, as they tied in drenching him in a thundering wave of joy. He fell back from the door breathing hard.
Whatever was behind there could kill him. But he wasn’t sure he cared.
He eased forward, closed his eyes, placed his palm on the door again, and pushed. Once more wonder swept through him as the door moved inward, achingly slow. Then it stopped.