I sighed and rubbed my neck. “After we talked yesterday, and you mentioned your church, I started thinking about how my parents used to take me to church. I loved Sunday school, and it just hit me that she’s missing all of that.” I sat down in one of the tiny chairs. “I think sometimes…I think they just get overwhelmed. I mean with the speech therapy and occupational and physical and equine and—”
“It becomes easy to assume she can’t.”
For the first time since coming home, her words rang true inside me, like someone had strummed a harp. Which was stupid, considering Jessie was the one who had nearly driven me insane. And yet, for some reason, this was the first time I felt like someone truly understood all the frustration that had been welling up inside of me. And all I could do was nod.
Jessie knelt at Jade’s side and began to pick up the blocks. “Help me clean up, kiddo, and then we’ll go get something to eat.”
“No spinach,” Jade said decidedly.
Jessie laughed. “There might be some good food there, but we’ll need to go quickly before that’s all that’s left.”
“You have lunch here?” I asked as she closed the room and led us back down the hall.
“We have a potluck on every fifth Sunday of the month,” she said as we turned into a larger hall, which was now crowded as everyone moved in the same direction. Then her eyes lit up. “Mrs. Walker!”
A plump elderly lady in a bright blue blouse with a matching bandana turned around. She smiled and waited until we’d caught up. Jessie quickly made introductions. Mrs. Walker, it turned out, would be Jade’s Sunday school teacher. And no sooner had we been introduced than she took Jade’s hand and leaned down.
“I have to get my cookies from the kitchen still,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling. “Want to be my helper?”
I was about to explain that Jade didn’t like going with strangers when Jade did the unthinkable and nodded. I watched, open-mouthed, as she let the woman lead her down the hall. Jade didn’t even look back.
“Should I be worried?” I asked, only half-joking.
But Jessie laughed. “I told you, she’s a special education teacher. She’s just got a way with kids. Now come on, let’s get something to eat.”
After we’d made our way through the line, with me glancing nervously back at Jade about a dozen times, Jessie led us into the fellowship hall. Most of the seats were filled by now, so we sat on the dais at the front of the room where we could see Jade as she sat next to Mrs. Walker.
“Talking to Amy?”
“Huh?” I asked, shoving my phone back in my pocket.
Jessie gave me a knowing smile. “You’ve checked your phone every thirty seconds since we left the sanctuary. What’s up?”
“Meh.” I dug into the pile of barbeque chicken on my plate. “I’m just waiting for an answer. She’s probably busy.”
Jessie nodded, but the curiosity stayed in her eyes. “I see.”
Huffing, I picked up a roll and turned it over a few times. I could ask her. When I wasn’t torturing her and she wasn’t made at me, she was quite capable of being nice and sympathetic. And we were friendly enough now that I doubted she’d tease. Not that Jessie really needed to know all the goings-on between me and my fiancée. But after yesterday, I suddenly wanted someone to talk to. Someone to assure me I wasn’t being a crazy, obsessed, stalker-type fiancé. And since she seemed the only one who understood my fears about Jade, maybe she would understand them about this.
“You’re a woman,” I said slowly.
She snorted, nearly spitting her food out. “Last I checked,” she chuckled, wiping her face with a napkin when she’d swallowed.
I laughed, too. “You know what I mean. I just…I’m trying to understand whether or not…”
“Just spit it out, Allen.”
Amy would kill me if she knew I’d asked another woman this question. But she wasn’t answering mine, so…
“Is it normal for an engaged woman to not pick a wedding date?”
She looked at me for a moment before her big, green eyes widened. And I felt rather sick as understanding filled her face and she looked down at her plate.
“Well,” she said, toying with her serving of mac and cheese. “I mean, there are a lot of factors that go into planning a wedding. Venue, work schedules, family schedules, cost, dress, cake, catering…” Her voice trailed off. And she still wasn’t looking at me.
“Isn’t it normal for most people, though, to have like…a few dates? Or even a month picked out?” I pressed.
She shrugged slightly then sighed. “Every circumstance is different. But I guess that might seem a bit…unusual.” Her green eyes flicked up to mine. “Why? What’s going on?”
