Happenstance

By Tammy Mentzer Brown

Happenstance follows the ins and outs of young adults who make decisions that determine the fates of their hearts, at that moment in time.
Lori returns home after one year of college, certain that age no longer presents an obstacle to pursuing Branson, the older gentleman she met the previous summer. Unexpected circumstances and moral roadblocks taint the possibilities and expose Lori's own immaturity, both spiritually and emotionally. Unable to find her definition of the perfect man, Lori moves her focus from guys to her career before entering into another relationship, complicated by its own set of challenges.
All seems lost until a chance encounter introduces her to the girl that holds the key to her happiness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645367611

Book preview

Altogether

About the Author

An avid nature lover, Tammy enjoys hiking, biking, and fishing, especially in the beautiful mountains of Tennessee. Her favorite pastime is curling up by the fire with a cup of coffee and getting lost in a good book, not stopping until it is finished.

About the Book

Happenstance follows the ins and outs of young adults who make decisions that determine the fates of their hearts, at that moment in time.

Lori returns home after one year of college, certain that age no longer presents an obstacle to pursuing Branson, the older gentleman she met the previous summer. Unexpected circumstances and moral roadblocks taint the possibilities and expose Lori's own immaturity, both spiritually and emotionally. Unable to find her definition of the perfect man, Lori moves her focus from guys to her career before entering into another relationship, complicated by its own set of challenges.

All seems lost until a chance encounter introduces her to the girl that holds the key to her happiness.

Dedication

The book is dedicated to Patrick Brown, my husband and my partner. Thank you for always setting the example of love and patience, and believing in us. I love you more than words can ever express and I thank God for you each and every day!

Copyright Information ©

Tammy Mentzer Brown (2019)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Brown, Tammy Mentzer

Happenstance

ISBN 9781645367611 (ePub e-book)

The main category of the book — Young Adult Fiction / Romance / Clean & Wholesome

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019909674

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 28th Floor

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgement

Special thanks to Heather Baruch, Julia Brown, Lauren Brown, Andrea Dietz, Vicki Dietz, Tammy Harmon, Bailey Roberts, Christine Sandlin, and Samantha Wade for the many hours of reviewing and giving feedback. And a special thank you to the readers. I do hope you enjoy this book!

Prologue

Upon returning home from her first year of college, Lori was sure she had matured enough to court the young man (six years her senior) that she had met the summer before. It was now time for him, Branson, to hear her out; their age no longer presented a barrier. All Lori knew was that none of the boys she met in college measured up to the man he was.

This book asks the question: how many times will happenstance allow two people to decide their own fate? Is there such a thing as love at first sight? What if circumstances do not allow us to follow our feelings through? Is there a second or third chance? In today’s Christian culture, what are the questions so many of our young people encounter? Also, what are the religious convictions that they have to deal with?

Many people have loved and lost. Some never even get started. Some never know a partnership kind of love at all. One which is experienced as trustworthy and stable, like only a true friend can provide, both compatible and fulfilling in the most intimate way. This was the type of love Lori wanted to experience. This story shows that when we do know that kind of love, when we get that first encounter, sometimes chance meetings are not enough, and sometimes, how deeply we love can win out amidst the most trying of circumstances. In fact, fate may actually play a bigger part than what we give it credit for.

Chapter 1

Stalker Known to Me

I’d once accepted it as fact. Life was a thing of fate, of predetermined and inevitable outcomes. I believed that once you came to this understanding, life quickly ran out of surprises, mine having run out a long time ago. At least that is what I thought until I walked right into one. It was a balmy night in early June, and yet the air wasn’t quite the muggy Valley River humidity that I had become accustomed to. Instead, there was a light chilly breeze blowing southeast. Traditionally, a breeze of this nature in the heat of June cautioned of a summer thunderstorm; so, I scanned around, trying to pay attention to the sway of the trees and the yard flags fiercely flapping, hoping to catch a glimpse of something familiar; all the while laughing to myself and thinking of how my emotions were on their own little whirlwind, hair whipping against my face and shoulders.

With one year of college and its blossoming independence, I longed for a little familiarity to find balance within myself. While I was never one to shy away from change, sometimes even going so far as to seek it out, there was a sense of longing burning within me which desired familiarity, one that could give me a sense of stability. Thus, came my return home. The community seemingly frozen in time, retained an atmosphere that glistened with crystal clear springs, as well as strapping oaks and maples of a luscious green accent which attributed to the balance of rain and sun our community had received so far this year. Overhead, they seemed to dance about me with a song of rustling leaves, welcoming me home. The aroma of lake water, not too far away, and the honeysuckle and wisteria scattered along the fence lines of neighborhood backyards also added to the sensual enjoyment of my walk; seeming to remind me of what was left behind, those things that I could count on to not change. While the familiarity was there to rely on, I had a much deeper hope for coming home this summer, a certain guy I had dearly missed. While the well-known surroundings provided me with a sense of peace and security that I imagine fills most homesick souls, it also helped to affirm and create within me high hopes for an enchanted summer.

University had brought a huge change in my life, at no small cost. Earning a full ride to a more advanced school, I was able to get out of my hometown of limited futures, to work towards my passion for art. College provided me opportunities for growth beyond the academic world. As I understood, it was the ideal time for personal development into the young woman I was meant to become. I myself was not one of the rapidly maturing students that experienced this change. My character traits seemed to ring true, underdeveloped, and unsure. Some would call me fun loving and kind, while others called me naïve and a dreamer. Regardless of how one described my personality, one trait that always stood out a little stronger than the rest was my love for and ability to learn. Because my personality did not indulge in the independence found within the college realm, college in and of itself had proved to not be the most promising year. I discovered that independence and feeling grown up could not be fulfilled in all areas of college life, like that which I felt in the romantic relationship’s department. It was not for lack of trying, mind you, but a lack of worthy contestants. In my mind, the bar was simply set too high by another, a mere memory of last summer. This memory wasn’t just tall, dark, and handsome. This impossible standard was set by one who was kind and respectful, mature and driven. Makes sense, looking back, that I didn’t find another one like him.

Branson was six years my senior. He stood 6’1" tall and had short brown hair that was in a constant messy state of almost shaggy. He had hazel eyes that could hold a deep sea of thought yet revealed wisdom that long surpassed his years. His jaw could cut like a knife, yet it held the compassion of a friend. His shoulders were set high and were broad, built for the manual labor of his every day, also holding the past of play-saving catches and against-the-clock tosses reminiscing his years as a shortstop. While I cannot attest to his six pack personally, the silhouette he showcased in a t-shirt definitely left room for the imagination to conjure up an image of one. And though his boot cut denims hid it well, the flex of his hips as he walked showcased legs of his athletic days which had definitely not gone to waste. His looks, though, weren’t the part that kept me looking back. What I found even more appealing, unmatched by the others, was his southern gentleman soul.

Age wasn’t a barrier to me at the time, but I knew my parents would never go for their high school daughter dating an older man. While he was cautiously observed by the parents of impressionable young ladies, like my own I’m sure, to me he was just Branson, a gentleman I was lucky enough to get to know last summer. Although, last summer I wasn’t sure he could even see that possibility. In my mind, this year, our age shouldn’t present any obstacle at all. I, too, realized he was not like the other guys I had met this past year away from home. His southern gentleman’s charm produced a gentle spirit and held a sense of confidence and genuineness when he spoke.

That is why this time home meant more than a quick drive past the local library or visit to the local coffee shop. It meant more to me than my senses of anything familiar being met. Not to downplay the importance of the sights and places of familiarity, which I was longing for and which gave me a reason and time to relax (goodness knows I needed this), but the fond memories from childhood did seem to bring me back to a simpler time, a time where every decision I made wasn’t going to have an impact on my life, just an impact on that moment. Thus, that, in and of itself, brought over me a comfortable feeling. There was a small sense of excitement, almost like I could return to that again, but I knew to separate dream from reality.

As I neared the end of the subdivision, I was starting to feel a little chilly and had forgotten to bring a cardigan, so I turned to head back from where I had just come. The air was crisp, with a light breeze hinting that cooler weather was on the way (hence the reason for the summer storm), so I began increasing the speed of my steps as I headed back home.

Looking as I went, I noticed the streets of the neighborhood were lined with ornate iron park lamps, providing warm illumination to feel safe as I walked alone. Eventually, my steps led me away from the light, to a familiar path back behind the neighborhood clubhouse, on a walking trail surrounded by dogwood and oak trees, and rhododendrons that seemed to bloom all summer.

So, what now Lori? asked the voice inside my head.

I don’t know, responded the other voice, just to admit to myself what was plainly obvious.

My thoughts took me back to the first time I met Branson. We were both volunteering at a Juvenile Huntington’s walk. I was there trying to help raise money and awareness for the cause, which affected a cousin of mine gravely. Branson was there because he had a heart for just about anything that would help our community, and his family had the resources to support many causes. Juvenile Huntington’s is a disease which has a life sentence, once diagnosed. And since so little time of a person’s life can be spent in this very progressive disease, brain cell deterioration, active research is hard to achieve long term.

Participation in the walk was very important to me. It wasn’t just another way to be healthy or social, but it was personal. It seemed to be all I could do anymore to help Cindy. I felt that it gave me a sense of purpose in attacking the ailing affects it was having on her. The walks’ proceeds benefited the research still needed to help find a cure, and I understood the necessity of this. See, Cindy, my cousin, was just like me and she was my best friend and playmate as we grew up together. Only one year separated us when we were seven, but now each year physically made that age gap even larger than what it was supposed to be. We hunted Easter Eggs together, jumped rope, and played with our stuffed animals. She was as able to learn quickly, like I could in her younger days. Up until age seven, she read and wrote, sang, played sports, and could do miscellaneous activities with great coordination. Then suddenly, things were noticeably different. At age seven, she could no longer tie her own shoes or zip her pants. She progressed backwards in her behaviors by stumbling as she walked, accidentally running into things or breaking them by knocking them over, and she eventually began having grand mal seizures. I remember one time we were notified that she had been taken to the ER for what her parents believed to be a cold. She had a fever and did not feel well. They discovered she was throwing up, but unable to project it out of her body, like most do, because her muscles were too weak and the vomit made it no further than her lungs. They suctioned the liquids out that night at the hospital and put her on an antibiotic as well as a relief breathing machine to help her through that illness, but it was still an eye opener for me—to realize no one is promised a healthy life, and we cannot take things we enjoy doing for granted. This, in turn, caused me to make two very important decisions for coping internally as an outcome of that experience. First, get involved with organizations that help raise money and awareness for that cause. Second, never take anything for granted, which meant, in my mind, never settling. I didn’t realize at the time, but when one thinks about it, Cindy could be attributed to the reason I met Branson in the first place. Cindy is still with us and has beaten the 10 years fatal statistic that most children experience, but her body is taking a beating. I am not sure how much time we have left, but for me, the love we share has taught me the most about what to expect in a relationship.

Cindy… I shrugged my head and turned my thoughts towards Branson yet wishing I could quit thinking of him too. Yet the two of them caused me to recollect memories of the meet at the registration table.

Branson and I had both been assigned to the check-in table where we would check off participants, hand them their race bibs (or runner ID numbers), take monies, etc. It was during this time I discovered he was not at all like the other guys I had been around. He was very responsible in the way he viewed his future. He had his dreams but kept a close eye on reality. He appeared to really want to make a difference with what he did and felt that he could. He did not come across arrogant at all but instead, passionate in a modest kind of way. Plus, he was not a free loader. He wanted to work and make his own way. As I will explain later, he could have lived off of his dad’s reputation, but that was not his desire at all, which explains one of the major reasons I found myself so attracted to him. He seemed to understand what he wanted out of his future and how to get it.

Another attractive trait I found in Branson was how considerate and kind he was towards me. Branson never talked over me. He did not interrupt me, nor speak down to me like I was a child, despite the age difference. In fact, he was genuinely interested in my dreams and goals. We even spoke about faith and the impact it held in each of our lives. I will never be able to explain how an older man could so comfortably engage with a younger lady, yet I imagine the make-up of hormones can easily be traced back to early days when age was no barrier. It was harmless, for he never made a move beyond conversation, but it was enough to cement in my mind expectations of what could be from a male companion.

Branson and I spent the day greeting others and spending our down time talking about the community, including some of the changes and lack thereof. Before the walk ended, we discovered too many similar interests to let this be the only time we would meet. I discovered that some of his family’s dearest friends, Abe and Ellie, who owned the local Dairy Queen, were good friends with my parents as well. After several days of paling around, Branson and I grew closer. One day