“Sure, bring someone along if you want.” He shrugs.
We carry on talking for a while, but my mind won’t stop buzzing. Now I just need to see if I can get Lizzie to come on Friday, too. I know she’s only around for another three weeks, though. I don’t know if Belgium will put a spanner in the works… but that’s not my concern. I can just introduce them and see if it works out. It’s up to God, anyway.
Marc and his family are all gone, so I’ll have to pop by later to see if Lizzie would be up for it.
As I get into the car to head home with Maria, I tell her my plan.
“Did you get to meet Lizzie?” I ask her.
She nods. “I did. She’s a sweetheart. Very bubbly and funny.”
“I thought the same. I’m going to invite her to come with us for dinner with Nate on Friday.” I glance over at Maria to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes light up with mischief—that look I know means she’s about to get excited. “That’s a great idea! Oh I do love playing a little bit of matchmaking.”
“I don’t know that Nate caught on though. It was very casual for him, so maybe he’s thinking I’m just bringing a friend.”
She swats at the air, as if brushing away my thoughts. “Ah, he’ll see her and talk with her, and he won’t see her as just… ‘someone we invited to dinner,’” she air quotes.
“I’m going to stop by later at Marc’s house and invite her to come along,” I say, glancing at her again.
“Great, you should go after dinner.”
“Perfect.”
We head out for the rest of the day, enjoying Sunday, and after dinner I head over to Marc’s house.
Their house is a little bit out in the countryside, which explains all the tropical trees around it. It’s a beautiful spot for a farm—blue shutters, a front porch lined with hanging plants (a testament to Gleide’s love of greenery), and banana trees to the side.
I stroll up to the blue door and catch a waft of something that smells like chicken coming from an open window. They might just be starting dinner soon.
I knock on the door, and Lizzie opens it.
“Hi, Lizzie!” I say, probably a little too overexcited.
“Hey, Pastor. How’s it going?” she asks conversationally.
Marc appears behind her. “Hey Pastor. What a nice surprise to see you. You want to come in?”
I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel nervous—and oddly hopeful. Maybe because I just met her a few hours ago and I’m already trying to play matchmaker?
“Actually, no. I was hoping to chat with Lizzie.” I hesitate. How do I phrase this? “Maria and I were thinking of doing a sort of farewell dinner for you since you’re leaving soon. A friend from church invited us to try a restaurant on Friday—it’s set up like an Italian castle.”
That sounded clumsier than I intended.
She raises an eyebrow. “So… you want me to crash a dinner someone invited you to and turn it into my farewell party?”
“What’s going on here, Pastor?” he asks, narrowing his eyes with that teasing edge. He’s the kind of man who can throw back a big, hearty laugh one second—and the next, make you think twice about crossing him. “Are you planning to parade my daughter down a catwalk for men?”
Why am I sweating? I know Marc’s joking, probably just teasing—but still, my stomach twists into little knots, and I can’t shake the nerves rising in me.
I laugh awkwardly. “Uh… sort of?”
Lizzie jumps back in. “Well, why not?”
Marc and I both look at her.
“Yeah?” I ask, grinning.
