“Because you don’t know if I’m a nice girl—right?”
“I have a feeling you’re the nicest girl.”
Her cheeks dusted pink, and she chewed her lip. When she looked up, there was a storm of painful clouds in her eyes. His heart yearned to be a harbor of peace where she could leave the clouds behind. But that wasn’t the type of marriage they had. He couldn’t hold her in his arms and whisper words of assurance in her ear or kiss away her sorrows.
“I was your typical suburban child. I have a brother and a sister—they’re both out of state and deep into their own lives. I was raised with Jesus from day one. My parents are in Africa on a mission for as long as they can be. They love the work.” Her eyes unfocused as she looked inward. “I was a shy girl—except in church. I loved to sing in the choir.” In a blink, she was right back in this room. “I can’t lead music or play the organ. Shoot. You weren’t looking for a choir director, were you?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got that covered.”
She sagged with exaggerated relief.
He swallowed back telling her about his guitar and love for music. Even though he thought she’d be supportive, it was such a big part of who he was that he wasn’t ready to share it with her yet. That was okay. Even if she never sang in front of anyone, he’d be happy just to know she appreciated music.
“Anyway, skip a few years. I worked, but I wasn’t happy there. So, when I saw your ad, I answered it. And here we are.” She spread her hands wide and then dropped them quickly.
That was a good start—and a base for a lot of questions. “Okay. Lightning round Q and A.”
She sat up taller.
“Did you walk or ride the bus to school?” he asked.
“Neither—we carpooled. You?”
“Bus. Favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Salted caramel.”
“Mint chocolate chip,” he said without waiting for her to ask. “Have you ever been in love?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. He waited, but she didn’t pop out an answer. A breath later, she gathered up the used napkins and stuffed them into the garbage under the sink. She didn’t look at him, and the fun that they’d bantered between them now hid in one of the clean cupboards.
He kicked himself for throwing in that question. It had popped into his head, and he hadn’t filtered until it was too late.
“Thank you for a wonderful night. I think I’m tired. I’m going to make up a bed.”
The heaviness of the unanswered question was a gulf between them that he didn’t know how to cross. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not you.” She put her hands in her back pockets. “It’s been a big day.”
Her words did little to assuage his worry that he’d messed up—on their wedding day.
She headed for the small hallway that led to the two bedrooms. “Did you have a preference?” She pointed in both directions at the same time.
“Take the one on the right.” It was the master, and she’d have her own bathroom for privacy. “We have a meeting with the board at eight tomorrow morning.”
Her eyes rounded. “Do I need to do anything?”
“No. They want to meet you is all. Introduce themselves.”
She nodded and then yawned. “I can handle that.”
There was no doubt in his mind that she could. She’d be gracious and beautiful and kind—everything a pastor’s wife should be and more.
“Good night.” She walked out of sight, and a few seconds later, he heard the bedroom door shut.
He sat at the table for a few minutes. Realizing that they had over half a pizza left, he shut the lid and shoved the whole thing in the fridge.
By not answering the question about having been in love, she had answered. Who was this man? How could he have been so stupid as to let her go? And why did the memories of it haunt her? Was she still in love?
