changed the subject before the interrogation could begin.
“So, how are Matt and Aaron doing?” I asked, referring to the Timmons’ sons. Matt had dated Annie regularly. Mine wasn’t the only pain from that accident south of Atlanta.
“They’re good,” Ernie said. “Matt’s at Georgia, thinking about pharmacy and Aaron’s a sophomore at Belue High. He talks about seminary.”
“You’ve got to stop him!” I said, panic creeping into my voice, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “Look what it’s done to you!” Everyone laughed. That was a relief, too, believe me. I congratulated myself for steering the conversation away from Ruth VanderKellen and last year’s first snowfall, but I knew Jan would come back around to it, circling, looking for clues about the state of my heart, preparing to minister to me like some theological vulture.
We continued to creep along. An old Buick approached us and went on by, the driver raising two fingers from the steering wheel. Another Iowa greeting. The sound of his chains making a steady chink-chink-chink sound.
Ernie leaned over and looked at me. “Was that chains I just heard?”
“Oh, yeah. They work in this stuff.”
“Do they leave them on all winter?”
“Nah, just for weather like this. When the streets get cleared later, they’ll take them off again. Useful in this kind of storm. By the way, remember Arvid ?”
Jan said, “Yes, the guy pretending to be dead in The Grain o’ Truth.”
“That’s his house over there on your right. You can hardly see it, though, the yellow one with the wrought iron fence.”
The Timmons looked. The Pendergast mansion was barely visible. The storm was turning into a whopper and I was glad to see it, but I preferred to see it from a warm room with a pint of dark ale or glass of wine in my hand, a roaring fire in the fireplace turning into glowing coals later, the pattern true love takes over time. I slowed to thirty miles an hour and tapped the brakes. No sliding. Good.
“She didn’t come back, did she?” Jan asked.
It was easier to talk as I drove the truck into the teeth of what might now be a blizzard. I could not risk eye contact, and I realized, once again, that the Lord does provide what we need at the proper time. In this case, the need to keep my eyes on the road instead of Jan’s face. I didn’t think I could look into her dark eyes and keep a grip, so I wasn’t going to risk it. I hunched forward a little, pretending that it helped me see better into the snowstorm. If we were driving at night, that would help. But we were close to a total white-out, so leaning closer to the steering wheel proved no advantage. Except socially. The wind howled and lightly rocked the truck.
“Thomas?” Jan again. I was going to have to deal with it, something I knew would come up when the Timmons thanked me for agreeing with them for me to host Thanksgiving.
“Alright, I know when I’m cornered,” I said. Jan squeezed my arm. “There are three, three-word phrases that have great impact on me. One makes my mouth go dry, elevates my blood pressure, and makes me weep in agony.” I went quiet. Several seconds passed.
Ernie broke the silence inside the cabin of the truck. “Alright, I’ll bite. What three words are those? ‘Pizza without meat’?”
“Close, very close.” More silence.
“Thomas.” This from Jan. “No more of this. I know what you’re doing, and you know I can be as determined about something as Gotcha. So give it up. What three words cause you pain and fear?”
“The ones that state, ‘some assembly required.’”
Both Timmons laughed, but briefly.
I went on. “There are three more that are definitely better, especially spoken by a woman to me. I’m talking about the simple phrase, ‘I love you,’ and I’ve been blessed to have heard it for years before it stopped.”
“I love you, Thomas,” Jan said softly.
“Thank you, Jan, but I’m not talking about agape love, necessarily.
“So, how are Matt and Aaron doing?” I asked, referring to the Timmons’ sons. Matt had dated Annie regularly. Mine wasn’t the only pain from that accident south of Atlanta.
“They’re good,” Ernie said. “Matt’s at Georgia, thinking about pharmacy and Aaron’s a sophomore at Belue High. He talks about seminary.”
“You’ve got to stop him!” I said, panic creeping into my voice, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “Look what it’s done to you!” Everyone laughed. That was a relief, too, believe me. I congratulated myself for steering the conversation away from Ruth VanderKellen and last year’s first snowfall, but I knew Jan would come back around to it, circling, looking for clues about the state of my heart, preparing to minister to me like some theological vulture.
We continued to creep along. An old Buick approached us and went on by, the driver raising two fingers from the steering wheel. Another Iowa greeting. The sound of his chains making a steady chink-chink-chink sound.
Ernie leaned over and looked at me. “Was that chains I just heard?”
“Oh, yeah. They work in this stuff.”
“Do they leave them on all winter?”
“Nah, just for weather like this. When the streets get cleared later, they’ll take them off again. Useful in this kind of storm. By the way, remember Arvid ?”
Jan said, “Yes, the guy pretending to be dead in The Grain o’ Truth.”
“That’s his house over there on your right. You can hardly see it, though, the yellow one with the wrought iron fence.”
The Timmons looked. The Pendergast mansion was barely visible. The storm was turning into a whopper and I was glad to see it, but I preferred to see it from a warm room with a pint of dark ale or glass of wine in my hand, a roaring fire in the fireplace turning into glowing coals later, the pattern true love takes over time. I slowed to thirty miles an hour and tapped the brakes. No sliding. Good.
“She didn’t come back, did she?” Jan asked.
It was easier to talk as I drove the truck into the teeth of what might now be a blizzard. I could not risk eye contact, and I realized, once again, that the Lord does provide what we need at the proper time. In this case, the need to keep my eyes on the road instead of Jan’s face. I didn’t think I could look into her dark eyes and keep a grip, so I wasn’t going to risk it. I hunched forward a little, pretending that it helped me see better into the snowstorm. If we were driving at night, that would help. But we were close to a total white-out, so leaning closer to the steering wheel proved no advantage. Except socially. The wind howled and lightly rocked the truck.
“Thomas?” Jan again. I was going to have to deal with it, something I knew would come up when the Timmons thanked me for agreeing with them for me to host Thanksgiving.
“Alright, I know when I’m cornered,” I said. Jan squeezed my arm. “There are three, three-word phrases that have great impact on me. One makes my mouth go dry, elevates my blood pressure, and makes me weep in agony.” I went quiet. Several seconds passed.
Ernie broke the silence inside the cabin of the truck. “Alright, I’ll bite. What three words are those? ‘Pizza without meat’?”
“Close, very close.” More silence.
“Thomas.” This from Jan. “No more of this. I know what you’re doing, and you know I can be as determined about something as Gotcha. So give it up. What three words cause you pain and fear?”
“The ones that state, ‘some assembly required.’”
Both Timmons laughed, but briefly.
I went on. “There are three more that are definitely better, especially spoken by a woman to me. I’m talking about the simple phrase, ‘I love you,’ and I’ve been blessed to have heard it for years before it stopped.”
“I love you, Thomas,” Jan said softly.
“Thank you, Jan, but I’m not talking about agape love, necessarily.
Similar Books
