she alternated between not caring and wanting her absence to be felt. Then she’d pray and ask God to forgive her for feeling that way.
“Ready to go?” Mama asked.
“Sure.”
They walked to the hospital garage and climbed into her parents’ GMC.
Mama and Daddy were quiet on the drive home. When they were about five minutes away, Indigo brought up a concern that had been worrying her for a couple of weeks now.
“What do you want me to do about grad school?”
Mama shifted in the front passenger seat and turned toward Indigo. “What do you mean? You’re still leaving after the wedding, aren’t you? I thought that you and Brian had discussed it and agreed.”
Indigo tried to gauge by her mother’s expression what she was thinking and feeling, but Mama had always been a master at masking her emotions. That skill had contributed to her ability to hide her alcoholism for so long. She’d never been loud and nasty, but shutting down and withdrawing from the family every chance she got over a period of years had caused just as much pain.
“We’ve discussed it, but I would say the issue is still on the table,” Indigo said. “I’m still struggling with what to do, given the glaucoma diagnosis. I just don’t know. Should I still try to go?”
“Why are you asking us?” Daddy piped up. “You’re all set to go, with a partial scholarship and all, and you’ve wanted to go for a long time. Why give up now? Dr. Woodman said this surgery should work.”
“But what if it doesn’t and I’ve wasted all that money and time?”
Mama peered at Indigo. “When did you start letting fear dictate your path? Haven’t we taught you that life is a series of what-ifs? Are you going to let your dreams go based on a possibility that things might not work out as planned, when there’s a strong chance that they will? Have you talked to God about it?”
Well, yes—she had prayed. She had pleaded.
Mama could read the answer in Indigo’s eyes. “Have you been listening?” she asked gently. “When you do that, you’ll know what to do. We’ve been saving money for your education since you were a baby, Indigo, even before you came to live with us. It was already earmarked, so don’t get all caught up in that. If you go and you spend it, you will have still learned something and had experiences that God wanted you to have, regardless of what may happen down the road.”
Indigo closed her eyes and laid her head back on the seat. Mama was right. Why should she stop pushing forward now, when only God knew what the future held?
If she chose to attend grad school, though, Brian would have to wait for them to live together as husband and wife. She wasn’t sure how she would broach that conversation, especially since the last time they talked, she hadn’t balked at his plan for her to join him in Pensacola after their wedding.
That led to another unsettling question—would he agree to a long-distance marriage?
20
O n most nights, Brian couldn’t purge the scene from his mind.
It had been over three years since that romantic liaison, but every time he remembered it, he felt ashamed. His thoughts would float between that pivotal evening and his routine date with Indigo the next day.
She had no clue, and for that, he had been thankful. Nothing was worth losing her. Nothing.
Life was so regimented at OCS that he had not had much time to think about anything but memorizing rules and regulations and barking the required responses to his drill sergeant and commanding officer.
When he wasn’t running or swimming or completing some other physical training activity, he was cramming material on engineering and naval equipment into his brain. He prayed daily to master every challenge so he wouldn’t get rolled back to another class. That would mean an additional three months here and would throw off plans for his wedding. Indigo would jump on the excuse to move to New York.
In his first few weeks here, Brian had been
“Ready to go?” Mama asked.
“Sure.”
They walked to the hospital garage and climbed into her parents’ GMC.
Mama and Daddy were quiet on the drive home. When they were about five minutes away, Indigo brought up a concern that had been worrying her for a couple of weeks now.
“What do you want me to do about grad school?”
Mama shifted in the front passenger seat and turned toward Indigo. “What do you mean? You’re still leaving after the wedding, aren’t you? I thought that you and Brian had discussed it and agreed.”
Indigo tried to gauge by her mother’s expression what she was thinking and feeling, but Mama had always been a master at masking her emotions. That skill had contributed to her ability to hide her alcoholism for so long. She’d never been loud and nasty, but shutting down and withdrawing from the family every chance she got over a period of years had caused just as much pain.
“We’ve discussed it, but I would say the issue is still on the table,” Indigo said. “I’m still struggling with what to do, given the glaucoma diagnosis. I just don’t know. Should I still try to go?”
“Why are you asking us?” Daddy piped up. “You’re all set to go, with a partial scholarship and all, and you’ve wanted to go for a long time. Why give up now? Dr. Woodman said this surgery should work.”
“But what if it doesn’t and I’ve wasted all that money and time?”
Mama peered at Indigo. “When did you start letting fear dictate your path? Haven’t we taught you that life is a series of what-ifs? Are you going to let your dreams go based on a possibility that things might not work out as planned, when there’s a strong chance that they will? Have you talked to God about it?”
Well, yes—she had prayed. She had pleaded.
Mama could read the answer in Indigo’s eyes. “Have you been listening?” she asked gently. “When you do that, you’ll know what to do. We’ve been saving money for your education since you were a baby, Indigo, even before you came to live with us. It was already earmarked, so don’t get all caught up in that. If you go and you spend it, you will have still learned something and had experiences that God wanted you to have, regardless of what may happen down the road.”
Indigo closed her eyes and laid her head back on the seat. Mama was right. Why should she stop pushing forward now, when only God knew what the future held?
If she chose to attend grad school, though, Brian would have to wait for them to live together as husband and wife. She wasn’t sure how she would broach that conversation, especially since the last time they talked, she hadn’t balked at his plan for her to join him in Pensacola after their wedding.
That led to another unsettling question—would he agree to a long-distance marriage?
20
O n most nights, Brian couldn’t purge the scene from his mind.
It had been over three years since that romantic liaison, but every time he remembered it, he felt ashamed. His thoughts would float between that pivotal evening and his routine date with Indigo the next day.
She had no clue, and for that, he had been thankful. Nothing was worth losing her. Nothing.
Life was so regimented at OCS that he had not had much time to think about anything but memorizing rules and regulations and barking the required responses to his drill sergeant and commanding officer.
When he wasn’t running or swimming or completing some other physical training activity, he was cramming material on engineering and naval equipment into his brain. He prayed daily to master every challenge so he wouldn’t get rolled back to another class. That would mean an additional three months here and would throw off plans for his wedding. Indigo would jump on the excuse to move to New York.
In his first few weeks here, Brian had been
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