It had been months since anyone had treated Lizzy with kindness. Just when she was at the bitter end of herself, along came Thomas. A hot shower, clean hair, body scrub and shave, and countless hours of sleep made her feel new and alive again.
Hesitantly, she looked through Thomas’s sister’s clothes, finding several things that were beautifully made, attractively styled, and clean—something she hadn’t experienced in a long while. She carefully trimmed her own hair, put on makeup for the first time in months, brushed her teeth, and finally felt like a lady again. But then there was the problem of no shoes. Her feet were much longer than Thomas’s sisters. Her appreciation for his kindness outweighed the disappointment of having no suitable foot attire, so she slipped on her ripped tennis shoes and trudged up to the main house.
Lizzy’s knock was tentative. The look on Thomas’s face let her know he was stunned by her makeover. “I slept for so long, I figured you might be thinking I died or something,” she said with a soft giggle. “I took you up on your offer of borrowing your sister’s clothes.”
He continued to look her over, top to bottom, before finally fixating on her shoes. It was his turn to chuckle. “Wow, are you the same Lizzy I know?” he teased. “Must be. She had a hole in her sneaker too.” Both nervously laughed. “Won’t you come in?”
“Yeah, about that . . .” Lizzy began. “I doubt your sister wears a size thirteen shoe.” At just under six feet, Lizzy was only a couple of inches shorter than Thomas. “I’m guessing your sister is about five-seven or five-eight. Her clothes actually fit me pretty well.” She paused, noticing Thomas was working intently on something at the kitchen table. “Am I interrupting?” The Bible and several other commentaries, along with a number of worksheets, were spread out all over the place.
“No interruption,” Thomas said. “I’m just working on a little study that I can do anytime. And you’re right. I was starting to get a little worried about you. Can I make you a latte?”
“Oh, that sounds really good,” Lizzy responded, looking around the place. “If you’re having one yourself, that is.” The interior of the home was tastefully built and decorated. She wondered if Thomas had a wife who decorated it. The kitchen was spacious with every modern convenience. Sleek granite countertops were dotted with cobalt blue, providing bursts of color. The various shades of pastel blue veined within the granite gave it an ocean-like quality, providing movement and accentuating the dark, oil-rubbed cabinets, which had been treated to look antique. A black wrought-iron rack over the island was filled with copper pots that played nicely off the ribbed copper range hood. The more she looked, the more impressed she became with the home’s composition.
While Thomas fussed around with the espresso machine, he motioned to a stool pulled up to the island. “Your wife did a lovely job with your home,” Lizzy said, making polite conversation. “Will I have a chance to meet her today?”
With his back turned to Lizzy, he replied plainly, “No wife. She left me about eight years ago. Couldn’t take my behavior and moved out. ’Course, I discovered I couldn’t take my behavior either.” He stood and walked across the kitchen, clearly feeling exposed and looking for a reason to change the subject. “Can I get you some sugar for your latte?”
“Just a spoonful, thanks. I’m sorry about your wife,” Lizzy added, hoping to revive the conversation. “Your home just looks so put together. Did you design it yourself?”
“I did,” Thomas replied. “But I’m an architect, so I’m supposed to be able to do this. In my line of work, we see so many options to choose from. It was hard to know what I’d want for myself. Speaking of things we might want for ourselves, were you comfortable in the guesthouse?”
“Yes, thank you,” Lizzy said with gratitude in her voice. “The weather feels like it’s changing, so I’ll get these clothes washed and put away and be on my way tomorrow. You’ll never know how good it feels to be human again. I’m grateful that you took me in overnight.”
“Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute,” Thomas interrupted. “Not so fast. Who said anything about taking off again?”
“Well, I assumed . . . You said this was just until the weather cleared, so I was going to get out of your way, that’s all,” Lizzy reasoned.
Thomas paused, choosing his words carefully. “Lizzy, there was a time in my life, about eight years ago in fact, where I was a worthless drunk who’d do almost anything for my next drink. My wife left me, my business was failing, and my friends couldn’t stand to be around me. All I cared about was whiskey. I’m an alcoholic. By God’s grace, and only His grace, I’ve been sober for the last seven years, three months, and eighteen days. If it hadn’t been for my business partner, I’d be living on the streets too. He put me in a rehab program out of town, in the middle of nowhere, where they locked us in our rooms at night until we dried out. Then and only then were we put in situations to test us. We had to earn their trust and work our way back into society. There wasn’t much society in the wilderness. But they had a chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous there and invited in all the recovering alcoholics from nearby towns.
“During the Twelve Step program, I met God. Without imposing my beliefs on you, Him filling the ‘hole in my soul’ was the only thing keeping me from taking the next drink. AA helped me establish a plan, and I was finally able to start a new life.” Thomas paused for effect. “Now, I don’t know what all you’re going through, but because of AA I can look past all the dirt, grime, and obvious hurt within you and see your true essence: a beautiful woman with a regal bearing who isn’t like all the other miscreants you’ve been shepherding. You come from somewhere. And you’ve been brought up right. I’m not interested in what you’ve been through; I’m interested in knowing if you’ve got a plan to get out of where you are. You are welcome to stay here as long as you make a plan and stick to it. If you falter, you’re gone.”
The caffeine in the latte was having its way with her. Lizzy excused herself to the powder room. The temptation to open the medicine cabinet was too great. But as slowly as she’d opened it, she closed the door to study the face staring back at her—a face she no longer recognized.
What have I done to myself? she thought. Better yet, what am I doing looking in this kind man’s medicine cabinet? Only yesterday I allowed Thomas in. He was kind enough to take me here just before I froze to death, and now I’m looking for drugs again? After the horrible withdrawal I recently went through? Really? And what am I going to do to get out of this hole I’m in? As Thomas said, I need to make a plan. A tear escaped from her eye and rolled down to the corner of her mouth.
She’d fallen so far.
Lizzy straightened herself and prepared to walk back into battle. Resolute, she’d conquer this thing before someone committed her to rehabilitation—or worse, she died. She asked for another latte while at the same time, admitting to Thomas she had just rummaged through his medicine cabinet. Her tears were genuine. Lizzy had finally come to the end of herself—right before she told him everything.
~
Two days after he’d shared the story of his untimely demise into the bottle, Lizzy brought him a handwritten, detailed plan of how she planned to turn her life around. Thomas was prepared. Seeing her all dressed up and looking human again made him smile, with the exception of those dirty tennis shoes with her toe sticking out of a hole. Prepared for this sight, he handed her a new pair of ballet flats with a bow on top he’d had shipped overnight. They were ECCOs, a brand he knew would save her pained feet. She laughed.
“What’s so funny,” Thomas dead-panned. “If you’re gonna dress for success, you gotta get rid of those sneakers.
She quickly pulled off the old sneakers and tossed them aside, then slid her feet into the butter-soft leather flats. As she did a strut across the room, a folded piece of paper fell out of her pocket.
“What’s that there?” Thomas asked.
Lizzy went to the kitchen table and unfolded the paper, explaining her plan for finding employment, paying rent for the guesthouse, buying groceries, and slowly starting to replace her wardrobe. She knew she was too ragged to start up her modeling career again, but figured worst-case scenario would be cleaning dishes over at the IHOP. She had a small budget designed, ready to start implementing the next day if he approved.
Deep in thought, Thomas sat there listening while rubbing his chin. Finally, he said, “This looks good, but you don’t have a means of transportation. What would you think of coming to work for me? We have some light clerical work like making copies, distributing the mail, making coffee—things like that. It wouldn’t pay much, but it’d bring in more than working at the IHOP. And you could ride back and forth with me. What do you think?” Secretly, he hoped she’d accept so he could keep an eye on her recovery.
“Well, I don’t know much about you, and nothing of your business, but you were kind enough to take me in. So if you’ll have me, yes. I’d like to start in the morning, if possible,” she replied. “I’ll work hard. I promise.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “By the way, my real name is Elizabeth. I think it’s time to reclaim that girl who wants to be found.”
Thomas smiled and said, “Elizabeth, I’m so happy to know you.”
At 7:00 a.m. the next morning, they pulled out of the driveway. Elizabeth wasn’t prepared for the enormity of Thomas’s firm. Everman & Associates Architects had about forty architects divided into both a residential design firm and a commercial side. Fifteen other people, including two interior designers and a structural engineer, supported the architects. The sleek, modern steel and glass building was accented with brick and timber, giving the firm a highly stylized “club” vibe that was inviting yet extremely professional.
“Denise,” Thomas began, “this is Elizabeth Lawson. She’s a friend who is going to help us out with some office clerical duties. Elizabeth, this is Denise, our office manager. She’ll set you up, take care of all the paperwork, and introduce you to the team here. Follow her lead, and come see me at the end of the day when she’s finished training you.”
And with that, Thomas vanished.
~
A month later the two had settled into a nice rhythm of working hard all day and then dragging home after dark. Elizabeth turned out to be a valued asset. She worked diligently, was polite and kind to everyone, and handled tasks with efficiency and reliability. With her first paycheck, she had her hair cut into a stylish bob—something different to chase away the “old Lizzy.” No one had the slightest inkling she’d once been homeless.
Invariably, when Denise’s workday was finished, Thomas still had two or three hours left in his day. So as not to bother him, Elizabeth would wander into the design studio to put up samples, rearrange catalogs, clean off the work tables, and vacuum the floors. The interior designers loved walking into the clean and organized studio every day, and Elizabeth loved her after-hours time playing with the colors, textures, and fabrics. The gift she’d been given with the work done during her years in fashion design and modeling was finally finding a home in the Everman design studio.
~
During architect presentations made to clients, Thomas began to notice how crisp and stylish the sample boards had become. Unusual and intriguing combinations of colors, materials, and textures were delighting clients and drawing additional business to the firm. National design awards given to Everman & Associates were growing his practice exponentially.
When Thomas pressed the designers in his design studio about what was making the difference, the obvious fidgeting let him know something was afoot. “What do you mean you’re not sure how you’re doing what you’re doing?” he asked incredulously. “Did the fairy godmother appear in the middle of the night with some secret sauce or something? This work is incredible.”
“Mr. Everman,” Elaine, the lead designer began, “we’d love to take the credit for all of this, but you’re sorta right about the fairy-godmother thing. I’ve never said anything to you about it, but when we come back to the office every morning, we’ve noticed various new designs, materials, and unusual color combinations leaning against our desks. Kind of like project vision boards. Honestly, they’re amazing and bring a creativity that we’ve been lacking around here. We haven’t been able to figure out who is doing this. Assumed it was a project you might be in on. So I told the girls to just ride the wave. I hope that’s okay,” she finished in a small, timid voice.
“I certainly don’t have anything to do with it,” Thomas bellowed. “I agree though. These designs are fantastic. But if you’re telling me your team isn’t responsible for this new look, I can’t very well reward you for your efforts. We’ve got to figure out where all of this is coming from. I’m fearful one day this creativity will go away. Elaine, call IT and have them install a small, nondescript camera in here so we can watch for after-hours activity.”
~
When confronted, Elizabeth immediately teared up. “Thomas, I’m so sorry,” she pleaded. Like a dog that’d been whipped too often, she cowered in the corner of the passenger seat.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Thomas soothed. He reached across and placed his hand on her arm. “Elizabeth, this isn’t a good thing; this is a great thing! Not only am I thrilled with the initiative you’ve taken, you’ve made yourself indispensable to the firm. This means a lot more money for you because I don’t need those other two girls now; I just need more of you. By the way, can I loop you into a meeting I’ve got next week with a new client out of New York?”
His touch was electric, and his words encouraging. For only a brief second, Elizabeth wondered if there might be something there. Can two horribly flawed people actually create a good life together? she wondered. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“Heavens, no! Quite the opposite. I could kiss you I’m so proud of—” He froze, realizing his embarrassing outburst. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate. Will you forgive me?” he said in the humblest of voices.
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow while focusing her baby blues at him and said, “Only if you’ll make good on your promise,” she teased. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed, and suddenly that sounds better than that first breakfast you bought me at IHOP.”
Thomas laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to. It’s just that I never …”
Not wanting to be too forward, Elizabeth nonetheless took the initiative and leaned over to kiss him while they were stopped at a red light. “Thank you for taking a chance on me,” was all she said as she settled back into her seat.
~
Despite a steady stream of encouragement, and lots more kissing, Elizabeth couldn’t seem to relax around Thomas. He wasn’t pushing her for anything more than an occasional kiss. In fact, he was pushing her toward a deeper relationship with the same God who’d helped him climb out of his ditch years ago. She’d been horribly burned by Trevor’s abuse and realized she had trust issues.
“You still okay with stepping into my ten o’clock with the couple out of New York?” Thomas asked on their way to work.
Knowing her workload had dramatically increased now that she was in high demand at the office, she hedged her bet just a bit. “I’ll try and be there right at ten o’clock. Please don’t fuss at me if I’m a minute or two late.”
He chuckled. “Still worried about trying to please the boss?”
“No. He’s a pushover,” Elizabeth teased back. “Instead, I’m trying hard to keep up with all of the demands that I suddenly have in the office.”
~
As predicted, Elizabeth was late. Denise was low on coffee, and Othell had a question on a material she’d spec’d for one of his jobs. Once she had satisfied all questions, she breezed into the conference room, juggling a cup of coffee in one hand and Othell’s spec sheet in the other.
“Oh, there she is now,” Thomas’s smooth voice said, heralding her arrival. Everyone stood. “I’d like to introduce you Elizabeth Lawson, the designer I was telling you about.”
Elizabeth almost spewed coffee all over the conference room table. Thomas was in the process of introducing her to Melinda and Edgar Stanhope—her aunt and uncle! She hadn’t seen them in years. It had been Uncle Edgar who was looking for her shortly after she’d started living on the streets.
Freezing for a brief second, Elizabeth weighed her options. She hadn’t wanted to be found. Yet Uncle Edgar was her flesh and blood, her father’s brother. He didn’t seem to recognize her all grown up.
What to do?
Thomas sensed the awkwardness. “Elizabeth, is everything all right?”
Suddenly, all her walls crumbled. The lies and deceit caused by her former addiction must now be faced, and running away had to fully stop. Thomas had helped her understand that with Jesus Christ, she was a new creation. The old had passed away. Elizabeth had been found by love. She had a new life, a new beginning, and was working feverishly on a new love, although Thomas didn’t quite know it yet.
“Thomas,” Elizabeth purred, “you never told me that your New York client was in fact my father’s brother. Hello, Uncle Edgar and Aunt Melinda.”
A prodigal, her aunt and uncle welcomed her back with open arms. They couldn’t have been happier to finally have found their niece. Following the excitement of an unexpected reunion, Edgar put on a long face and shared the news of the death of his brother and his wife, her parents, in a horrible plane crash. Elizabeth wept uncontrollably. Thomas folded her into his arms doing his best to console her. It was only then that Uncle Edgar hesitated before telling her that he’d been looking for her because she’d inherited an enormous trust fund.
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