"Yes. They're four."
"Does your husband work in the shop too?"
She blinked, looking at her hands holding the wick without really seeing it.
She took a breath and looked up. "My husband was a marine who was killed in a training accident before he even knew I was pregnant with the twins."
"I see. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Yeah. I am too. Sometimes I wonder what in the world God is thinking. Actually, sometimes I have a hard time forgiving the Lord for allowing that to happen to me. You know? He's supposed to be good. Leaving two little boys to grow up without their father doesn't seem to be very good to me."
She had lowered her voice so her boys wouldn't hear her talking like that. She didn't want them to be mad at God. She didn't want them to blame Him either, although... who else was there to blame? If God really was all powerful, then he could've kept Cam from dying. And he didn't.
There was no other way to look at that other than that was not good.
"I've found that sometimes the things I think are the worst things that could possibly happen to me turn out to be some of the best. Not to belittle or make insignificant your loss. Just more of a defense ofGod, I guess."
"Yeah. You can defend God if you want to. I suppose He deserves it, but I guess there's just no way you can look me straight in the eye and tell me that those boys should not have a dad."
"Of course I wouldn't say that. But there are instances all through the Bible where bad things happen, and God worked good out of them. I guess the first thing that comes to mind is David and Bathsheba. That was a really, really bad thing. No one could say that adultery was good. That murder is good. And yet, Bathsheba was the mother of Solomon, who was the wisest man who ever lived. So God did work good out of it. It just wasn't the way we thought it should look, you know?"
She didn't say anything. She could definitely relate to Bathsheba, losing her husband in war no less. Although, Cam had not been deliberately killed. It had been an accident, no question. She looked down. He couldn't have chosen a better, more relatable story.
"So where do you think the good has happened?" she asked, working a little more slowly than she normally did, because she was thinking too. Had she missed an angle?
"I don't know. Your story isn’t over yet, is it?"
"No, I suppose it's not. But isn't it best for a child to have both mother and father?"
"And maybe there will be a father in the picture at some point."
"Well, he's gonna have to come here and court me here, because I don't have time to go running around trying to find someone."
"Maybe you'll find someone at church."
"Hardly. There really aren't any eligible men under sixty. And... I'm not robbing the nursing home just to give my kids a dad."
Chapter 5
Mark stood still. It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he was available, eligible, and unmarried, but... he wasn't trying to come on to her in any way. He had just come to visit her as one of his congregants. He'd also been told that he needed to talk to her about the candles for the candlelight service. And then somehow they got to talking about marriage and men and who was eligible in the church, and there was a part of him that was inside, jumping up and down with his hand raised, shouting, "Me, me!" But... that was part of the problem. It was like a teacher marrying a student. He couldn't court someone in his congregation. He was supposed to be their shepherd, not their lover.
Plus, he wanted to marry someone who was interested in helping him with the church. It was a huge responsibility, and churches normally expected the pastor's wife to run Bible studies and organize meals for shut-ins and sick people, and pitch in wherever she can, and he would hope that she would go along on visitation with him, particularly if he were visiting ladies in the hospital, and to console wives and mothers alongside him. To be his helpmate.
This lady was obviously a business owner.
"I suppose you already know I'm Mark Stevens. It's good to meet you," he said, holding his hand out and realizing belatedly he didn't even know her name.
"My name is Olivia Winters. And it's good to meet you too. Nice change of subject, by the way," she said, laughing a little, like he'd done it on purpose. Maybe he had. He was feeling a little spooked, and didn't know what to say, because there technically was an eligible man in the church now.
"It's not easy to be a business owner," he said, not really digging for information, but just trying to get to know her a little.
"It wasn't my plan. But I guess we've already established the fact that I'm bitter against God and I shouldn't be."
"It wasn't your plan?" he asked, ignoring what she said about being bitter. He couldn't blame her. He didn't understand why God moved the way He did, worked the way He did, or why some people suffered tragedy after tragedy while it seemed like others led a charmed life. He couldn't say that he thought it was fair. And he definitely couldn't say that she shouldn't be bitter. He knew that she shouldn't, but he had no right to tell her. He hadn't lost a spouse.
"No. This was just a hobby. I love it. I really love coming up with different scents."
"The baked bread scent that you gave me was amazing. I was totally fooled into thinking that there was warm, homemade bread with melted butter on it somewhere in my house, but alas, it was just a candle."
