What did I think was going to happen when we were alone in the car? It wasn’t like we were going to make out with Ruthie in the backseat.
“You should go see if Kevin or your dad need anything to drink.”
“Is he really coming to dinner on Saturday, too?”
“Yes. I thought it’d be a good chance for you to try out a new dinner recipe and maybe show off your baking skills for dessert.”
Okay, but did Mr. Roberts need to be here while I did that?
Then I remembered that his girls were at camp, and concluded the congregation was probably taking turns hosting him for dinner.
But we had plenty of parishioners. Why the heck did we get him for three nights?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jessica
I hadn’t summoned the courage last night to ask Mama why we were feeding Mr. Roberts three times this week.
It turned out, I didn’t have to.
On the way to work the next morning, Mama quietly said, “Elder Roberts is a nice man, don’t you think?”
Is she serious? He’d been rude and inappropriate all through dinner.
I wanted to remind her she’d hidden out in the kitchen, cleaning the coffee pot, to avoid being in the same room as him. I knew I wasn’t being very Christian with my judgment, but I didn’t want to lie either, so I simply replied, “I’m sure losing Mrs. Roberts was hard on their whole family.”
“Yeah, they’ve had a rough time. But now the girls are getting ready to go away to college in a few months, and he’s going to be alone.”
“Oh, is that why you’ve been inviting him to dinner?”
Mama hesitated before replying, “Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“He approached your dad and I last week. He’s—” She paused, took a deep breath, and started again. “He’s willing to marry you and raise Ruthie as his own child.”
I’m sorry—what the heck did you just say?
I blinked my eyes as I tried to make sense of her words. It felt like all my blood rushed to my feet and there was a humming in my ears that hadn’t been there ten seconds ago.
Did she just say something about marrying Mr. Roberts?
I was glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, or I might have lost it right there in the front seat of the Cadillac.
Finally, my brain could form a sentence. “Mama, no. I couldn’t—”
She quickly interrupted, and it was clear she and Papa had talked a lot about this. “No one else is going to marry you, Jess. Kevin is willing to look past your sins. He said he’d even have more children with you.”
The thought of making those children with Mr. Roberts made my skin crawl, so I remained mute.
“And I think he would be kind enough to you and Ruth.”
Kind enough?
Just what I was looking for in a husband and father to my children—“kindenough.”
“Mama—no. He’syourage. I don’t want to marry an old man—no offense.”
