“I just wondered. If something happened to him, would you still want to stay in 1861?”
“He’s not going to die,” I told her, my voice raised with fear masquerading as irritation. I forced myself to lower it. “Besides, there are other reasons to stay in 1861. I could do a lot of good during the war years, and when it’s over, there will be reconstruction.”
She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, in a gentle voice, “Do you ever get scared?”
“Of what?”
“Saying good-bye ... forever?”
Her question pulled the top off the well of emotions and fear I tried to keep closed. Something akin to panic clawed at my throat, but then I was reminded of Mama and Daddy in 1941, and the feeling eased. They had taught me that I could trust God’s plan for my life, even if it didn’t feel like things were under control. “Every day of my life, but I take consolation in the fact that my marked parents walked a similar path and they’re happy. Mama said she grieved for her loved ones in 1775 for a long time, but over the years, the grieving eased, and she can think fondly of those she lost without the bitter sadness. I hope it will be the same for me, though I dread the grief.”
Delilah put her arm through mine and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about losing me, since you’re staying in 2001.”
I smiled, though it was a sad smile. “What if I don’t, Delilah? Will you be angry with me for the rest of your life?”
She shook her head, her own sadness pulling down her lips. “No. I know you have a lot to live for in your other paths. People you love and things you care about. But I can’t imagine life without my best friend.”
My parents’ house was up ahead, and I took a deep breath to pull myself out of the melancholy that had dragged me down. Mom and Dad had no idea what I was facing, and I wasn’t going to tell them. Either I’d stay in 2001 and they’d never know I was contemplating different paths, or my body would die here, and they would have no idea I’d chosen a different life than this one. It was a strange reality, but I had been trying to prepare myself for sixty years—a lifetime for some people.
In moments like this, I had to turn my prayers heavenward, hoping God was listening as I asked Him to guide my steps when I wasn’t sure which way to go. When the mind He gave me couldn’t comprehend the choices He set before me.
We walked up the brick steps from the public sidewalk and followed the path to the front door. My parents’ house was enormous, and my mother had made many updates and alterations over the years. It was a gray-painted brick with a bright-red front door and white trim. Lush landscaping encircled the home and courtyard in back, making it almost impossible to see from the street. Inside, almost all the fabric and built-ins were a shade of white, with white walls and white trim. Dark wood tables and accents added relief to the white. It was a very elegant and impressive home, if a bit uncomfortable. Mom often met with clients at the house, and she needed it to be a showpiece.
“I used to be scared to come to your house when I was a kid,” Delilah said. “I was always afraid I’d wreck something.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I’m still afraid I’m going to break something. But don’t tell your mom.”
I laughed as I opened the front door and entered the cool hall, greeting the housekeeper who was stationed at the door.
There were already voices filtering out from the back of the house where the kitchen, dining room, and family rooms were located.
“How many people are going to be here?” Delilah asked as we handed our jackets to the housekeeper. Delilah wore askirt and shirt she’d made herself with a lawn of black-and-white polka dots and small orange and purple flowers scattered throughout.
“I have no idea. But my mom never disappoints.” She had a vast array of friends from all walks of life and liked to intermingle them whenever possible. I had been at dinner parties that included dignitaries from around the world—as well as the little old lady who lived next door.
My heels tapped against the dark wood floor as we walked down the hallway. A delicious aroma wafted out of the kitchen, and the sound of tinkling laughter floated on the air.
At least a dozen people were mingling in the family room. Dad stood near the gas fireplace, which was lit, speaking to two men with turbans. Mom was near the French doors, which led out into the beautiful courtyard, speaking to a man and woman I’d never met before.
But it was Seth Wallace, sitting on the sofa with a woman from church, who caught my attention and made me pause.
“What is it?” Delilah whispered next to me.
“Seth.”
“Where?” Her voice held an excitement I hadn’t yet mustered. “Oh, there. What’s wrong?”
“He asked me out again, but I told him I wasn’t ready to get involved right now—at least, not until January.”
“So? Having dinner at your parents’ house isn’t ‘getting involved.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “It’s a nice surprise, if you ask me.”
“I wonder if it was my mom or dad’s idea. Mom’s been trying to hook me up with someone for months now.”
“They just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You know what I mean.”
Mom noticed us, and her face lit up. She excused herself from the couple she was speaking to and made her way over.She was as elegant and well-presented as her home. Her short brown hair was perfectly styled, her slacks had a defined crease, and her blouse was flowing and simple.
