utter my thanks.
The front room was empty save my grandfather. He sat in the middle of the tufted sofa provided for guests and residents alike. The TV was off, and he held no book in his hands, but he stared straight ahead. Curious, I followed his gaze to the stark white wall.
“Poppy?”
My voice had no effect on his line of vision, so I stepped directly in front of him.
He didn’t look up.
I squatted to be eye level with him, but he seemed to look right through me.
“Poppy.” I placed my hand on his knee.
He blinked and focused on my face. I smiled.
“Evelyn?”
My smile faltered at my mom’s name. I forced it back in place.
“No, Poppy. It’s me, Rebekah.”
“Rebekah?”
I nodded and blinked back traitorous tears.
“Where’s Evelyn?”
“Poppy, Mom—Evelyn—died a long time ago. Remember?” Please remember, Poppy.
He closed his eyes tight and leaned his head back. When he opened them again, resignation showed in their depths.
“I remember. How could I forget?” His fingers brushed my cheek. “And I could never forget you, my Rebekah Anne.”
Time was running out. Its tick, tock, tick, tock clanged in my ear.
Lisa, please hurry!
***
Luke
One would think I’d be nervous as I sat next to Lisa and waited for the call to go through, but I wasn’t. There was a peace I couldn’t explain about my decision, except to say that it was the peace of knowing I’d made the right choice. I would choose to love Becky. And with time, she’d love me in return. My pulse raced, but it was more from anticipation than anxiety.
“Becky?” Lisa smiled. “Hey, I was just calling to let you know The Isaac Project was a success.”
Lisa’s gaze caught mine, and her smile grew. This girl must have been a handful for her parents growing up. Sam was a lucky guy.
“He’s perfect.” She winked at me. Good thing I wasn’t the blushing type.
“In fact, he’s right here, so I’ll go ahead and let you talk to him.”
Lisa offered me the phone with a little nod of encouragement.
There wasn’t any script or past experience, personal or otherwise, to help me know what to say. One of Sam’s corny Christian pickup lines wouldn’t work in this situation. Although, truthfully, I didn’t know how they had worked in any situation.
“Hey, Becky. My name is Luke Masterson.” I ran a hand over my head. “How’re you doing?” Was that what you said to the girl you’ve agreed to marry?
No chipper response. No “I’m fine, thank you, and how are you?” No nothing. Just dead silence returned my greeting. Rocky start.
I tried again. “How’s your grandfather?”
“Umm…yeah…uh…hi. I’m hanging in there, and so is Poppy, thanks for asking. We both have our good days and bad days, but that’s to be expected.”
Her voice was like a river in autumn. The waters had since receded from the deluge of spring rains and snowmelt from warmer weather. Where the river had once playfully rolled over rocks and fearlessly leaped over clefts, it now trickled sedately on its course, more focused on its destination than the joy of the journey. Had her voice had always been like—like an autumn river? Or had it once contained the playfulness of spring before some jerk broke her heart?
“That’s good to hear. I’ve been praying for you.”
“Thank you.”
This conversation was awkward at best. What else was I supposed to say? The dead space actual felt painful. Thankfully, I was saved by the voice on the other end of the line.
“Is what Lisa said true?” she asked with a hint of shyness. Her vulnerability stirred a protectiveness inside me. It was a good thing Becky’s cheating ex-boyfriend wasn’t there right then, because I would’ve been tempted to use his face as my next punching bag.
“If you’ll have me, then I’d be proud to be your husband.” I was a little shocked to discover how completely true that statement was. Not twenty-four hours earlier I’d been close to
The front room was empty save my grandfather. He sat in the middle of the tufted sofa provided for guests and residents alike. The TV was off, and he held no book in his hands, but he stared straight ahead. Curious, I followed his gaze to the stark white wall.
“Poppy?”
My voice had no effect on his line of vision, so I stepped directly in front of him.
He didn’t look up.
I squatted to be eye level with him, but he seemed to look right through me.
“Poppy.” I placed my hand on his knee.
He blinked and focused on my face. I smiled.
“Evelyn?”
My smile faltered at my mom’s name. I forced it back in place.
“No, Poppy. It’s me, Rebekah.”
“Rebekah?”
I nodded and blinked back traitorous tears.
“Where’s Evelyn?”
“Poppy, Mom—Evelyn—died a long time ago. Remember?” Please remember, Poppy.
He closed his eyes tight and leaned his head back. When he opened them again, resignation showed in their depths.
“I remember. How could I forget?” His fingers brushed my cheek. “And I could never forget you, my Rebekah Anne.”
Time was running out. Its tick, tock, tick, tock clanged in my ear.
Lisa, please hurry!
***
Luke
One would think I’d be nervous as I sat next to Lisa and waited for the call to go through, but I wasn’t. There was a peace I couldn’t explain about my decision, except to say that it was the peace of knowing I’d made the right choice. I would choose to love Becky. And with time, she’d love me in return. My pulse raced, but it was more from anticipation than anxiety.
“Becky?” Lisa smiled. “Hey, I was just calling to let you know The Isaac Project was a success.”
Lisa’s gaze caught mine, and her smile grew. This girl must have been a handful for her parents growing up. Sam was a lucky guy.
“He’s perfect.” She winked at me. Good thing I wasn’t the blushing type.
“In fact, he’s right here, so I’ll go ahead and let you talk to him.”
Lisa offered me the phone with a little nod of encouragement.
There wasn’t any script or past experience, personal or otherwise, to help me know what to say. One of Sam’s corny Christian pickup lines wouldn’t work in this situation. Although, truthfully, I didn’t know how they had worked in any situation.
“Hey, Becky. My name is Luke Masterson.” I ran a hand over my head. “How’re you doing?” Was that what you said to the girl you’ve agreed to marry?
No chipper response. No “I’m fine, thank you, and how are you?” No nothing. Just dead silence returned my greeting. Rocky start.
I tried again. “How’s your grandfather?”
“Umm…yeah…uh…hi. I’m hanging in there, and so is Poppy, thanks for asking. We both have our good days and bad days, but that’s to be expected.”
Her voice was like a river in autumn. The waters had since receded from the deluge of spring rains and snowmelt from warmer weather. Where the river had once playfully rolled over rocks and fearlessly leaped over clefts, it now trickled sedately on its course, more focused on its destination than the joy of the journey. Had her voice had always been like—like an autumn river? Or had it once contained the playfulness of spring before some jerk broke her heart?
“That’s good to hear. I’ve been praying for you.”
“Thank you.”
This conversation was awkward at best. What else was I supposed to say? The dead space actual felt painful. Thankfully, I was saved by the voice on the other end of the line.
“Is what Lisa said true?” she asked with a hint of shyness. Her vulnerability stirred a protectiveness inside me. It was a good thing Becky’s cheating ex-boyfriend wasn’t there right then, because I would’ve been tempted to use his face as my next punching bag.
“If you’ll have me, then I’d be proud to be your husband.” I was a little shocked to discover how completely true that statement was. Not twenty-four hours earlier I’d been close to
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