Joanne Sawyer
Introduction
It sometimes happens that two strangers would meet and suddenly feel like they’ve known each other all their lives. It’s a bone-deep feeling, strange and overwhelming, and often it is dismissed by those who experience it.
For Lucy Bright and Charles Ambrose, two people of deep religious faith, this feeling that struck them upon meeting as teenagers was not something to fear and try to forget, but something to marvel at and explore. But they’d both been young and inexperienced then, and though they would have been willing to hold on to this chance and even fight for it if they had to, neither of them knew how.
And so they parted ways, and for five long years, they didn’t see each other again. Until the day when, unlooked for, they crossed each other’s paths.
Seeing this for what it was: God’s gift to them, a second chance to grab at what they could have together and make things right, the young pair would let nothing hinder them this time… even if the obstacle happened to be their own families...
The Dining Hall...
Lucy and her family were preparing to sit on their table when another party entered the dining hall. Almost every one of Lucy’s company that were facing the door glanced in that direction, but none of them were arrested by any sight that met their eyes.
None of them recognized anybody. None received a jolt of electricity when a pair of eyes from that other party met their own. And none saw a similar instant of recognition bloom on that other person’s face. None, that is, except Lucy, who remained half-standing, half-crouching over her seat while everyone else around her got comfortable.
“Anything wrong, Lucinda?” said her mother, seeing her state. The question caused whatever it was that had been tying Lucy’s attention in a tight hold to snap. She looked around at her table.
“I…” she began. “I thought I saw…”
“Helena?” someone interrupted. All of them, including Lucy, turned their heads towards a middle-aged woman walking slowly toward them, body bent forward just so, to give the illusion that she was a floor down and staring up at them, as if looking at people from below could actually help one recognize them any better when all you’ll see are their chins. “Heavens me—Helena!”
“Margaret…” Lucy’s mother, whom the woman had been addressing, muttered uncertainly. Then her eyes widened a bit and she rose from her chair saying, “Margaret. Goodness—I almost didn’t recognize you—you look fabulous!”
“I know! That’s what I’d been thinking about you too!” Margaret replied as she circled to where Lucy’s mother stood to give her a kiss and a hug, belying the dubiously insulting ring to both their words. She looked down at Lucy’s father. “And Rick of course! Well? Any time now, old fellow!” she said with a good-natured laugh.
“Rick, the camp!” Helena hissed at her husband, beyond mortified at his lapse, but everyone heard her anyway. Lucy saw her fourteen year old brother bend his head and bite his lips between his knuckles. A quiet chuckle escaped his throat and that of a cousin his age when Rick’s eyes widened as he too pushed himself off the table, the movement so abrupt his chair grated loudly against the stone floor.
“I’m sorry!” he said, frantic. “Of course. Oh, how could I forget. Oh, this is embarrassing. Margaret.”
But Margaret only gave a trilling laugh. “Well, the last time we saw each other,” she said, “we all had stringy hair and haven’t bathed properly for two weeks. Of course you wouldn’t recognize me at once—I almost didn’t, I really almost didn’t. Excuse me, please—Noah!” Margaret called, looking over her shoulder and making her voice carry to the other end of the large room where her own party was now seated. “Come, come!” She gave a wide, swiping gesture with her arm. “It’s them—I told you it’s them. Come greet them.”
The man in his fifties that she was talking to looked at his companion, a much younger man, and then the two of them glanced at Margaret. Her husband, Noah, sighed as he stood. The young man who could only be his son followed suit, though much more quietly. He seemed subdued, and there was something in the way he moved that told of a great reluctance… or a great and terribly contained anticipation.
No. To anyone else it would seem like the former. Only Lucy recognized the message in that young man’s body for what it was. It was also coursing through her veins as she remained standing, facing the newcomers, never taking her eyes off the face of the young man as he drew nearer and nearer, all the while keeping his gaze politely over everyone’s shoulders.
But then, as he and his father drew so near there was only a yard left to traverse, the young man’s gaze flicked sideways, quickly—there and gone again—to meet Lucy’s stare. She flinched and barely managed not to look away by reflex. Seeing this from the corner of his eyes, the man shifted his gaze nonchalantly, as if that was the most natural thing for him to do, to meet Lucy’s stare again—fully this time. When he’d stopped walking a step beside his mother and Lucy was still staring resolutely back at him, he smiled and was the first to look away.
He smiled.
He smiled. That was already more than everything they’ve ever shared before. Smiling now too, Lucy finally lifted her gaze from the man’s face.
“I told them,” Margaret had been saying, “as soon as we stepped through the door, ‘Why, don’t I know that woman? Oh, but from where?’ And then I saw your husband and then it hit me, and I told Noah, but he was like you, couldn’t even recall what I was talking about, but I was sure, and so I came to you and—ah, here they are now. Noah! It’s Helena and Rick from that camp in Iowa—do you remember? Oh—how many years ago was it?”
“Yes, of course. It’s five years ago now, hon,” Noah said, stepping forward to shake the said people’s hands. “You remember our son, Charleston?” he told the other couple, gesturing at the young man.
Charleston smiled again, but it was all politeness now, nothing more of what Lucy had glimpsed there earlier. “Mr. and Mrs. Bright, it’s good to see you.”
“Oh, this young man turned out fine, didn’t he?” said Rick, shaking Charleston’s hand.
“Charlie, is it?” Helena asked.
The young man smiled courteously. “It’s Charles, ma’am.”
“Ah—and is this sweet little Lucy now?” Margaret chimed. Everyone turned to look at the older woman and Lucy, who were sharing an embrace. Over his mother’s shoulder, Lucy met Charles’ eyes and blushed slightly.
“And Adrian, our son,” said Helena, not quite pointing but graciously trailing her fingers towards Lucy’s brother, who stood a bit nervously and nodded.
“Ma’am. Sirs.”
“And these are our extended family,” Helena continued, indicating the rest of Lucy’s party consisting of two pairs of aunts and uncles and three cousins, all younger than her, who all gave well-mannered nods, even the youngest, a girl of only six. “We’re here to celebrate Lucy’s birthday—she turns twenty-one today, can you believe it? Everyone, this is the Ambrose family.”
“Happy birthday, my dear,” said Noah warmly before giving his regards to the rest of the table.
“Oh—happy birthday, Lucy!” Margaret rejoined, touching her palms gently to Lucy’s cheeks, “Hmm—what a special age, twenty-one…” she mused, then she too turned her attention to everyone else.
As the rest of their assemblage continued to exchange pleasantries, Charles and Lucy were forgotten on the outskirts.
Charles didn’t step closer or otherwise move, but the space between them felt like it was shrinking. It was as if an invisible cone had manifested around them, and beyond this barrier nothing else existed.
There was only a young man and a young woman, gazing into one another’s eyes in fathomless recognition.
Charles said, “Lucy.”
Lucy swallowed and replied, “Charles,” her voice barely a whisper.
He smiled and finally approached. When he was only a foot away, he leaned down. Lucy saw what he was meaning to do and she had had time enough to
dodge it, if she’d wished. She didn’t. She wished the exact opposite. She wished this. Charles kissed her on the cheek.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
It was only a brief kiss. A chaste kiss. Just his lips brushing against Lucy’s skin in the merest instant, but for its effect, he might as well kissed her on the mouth.
Lucy’s heart began pumping so wildly she could hear its pounding echoing all throughout her ribcage. Blood heated up her face, her chest. It heated up her everything. She thanked the Lord that most of her body was turned and hidden away from her family’s view. She could only guess what anyone might read in her carriage alone.
The kiss itself was brief, but Charles didn’t immediately draw his face away. He leaned several centimeters further to whisper in Lucy’s ear, “If it had been my birthday and I saw you, I’d think it was God’s Own gift to me.”
This was the first real exchange they were having, and it was as if they were both making up for all those times they might have spoken to each other but didn’t—Lucy too went straight to the heart of all that needed to be said.
“It is my birthday. And it is God’s gift. To both of us.”
Charles stepped back and established proper distance again, but he didn’t take his eyes off Lucy’s flushed face. He roamed his gaze around it, drinking her in. Drinking all of her in.
Lucy did the same. As God was her witness, she could do nothing less...
Relaxed Nonchalance...
The very young and very innocent Lucinda Bright met Charleston Ambrose back when they were sixteen and seventeen respectively, at a camp in Iowa where both their families went to for a summer camping trip.
It had been instant attraction between them. Their gazes landed on each other across a whole stretch of clearing, and a link was forged that proved itself to be nigh unbreakable. Lucy had had some crushes before that—and perhaps it had only been the novelty of the place or the mystique of the idea—but she had never felt anything quite like this for anyone.
Her heart would jump at her throat at a mere glimpse of a tall, lanky form, neatly trimmed brown hair that fell to thick brows, eyes the color of moss. And when Charles was near or was looking at her from afar, her body heats up in places—starting from her chest, up to her shoulders and arms—while another heat, quite separate, would begin pooling deep in her belly.
Once, during a rare time when many separate groups decided to have a meal together on the big camp’s widest clearing, Charles had had occasion to lean past her in order to reach for something, and part of his broad chest was barely a centimeter away from Lucy’s torso. The heat was so instantaneous that when she drew breath for the shock of it, she found she couldn't let it out again.
Lucy had always thought it was an exaggeration when people describe something as having affected them so intensely, it stopped their breathing. But there, at that moment, when the hot air coming out of Charles’ very skin and past his shirt was mingling with the warmth her own body was also giving off, she found out that it actually does happen…
A feeling envelopes you, so quick and powerful you didn’t know what was coming until it was happening, and the next thing was you forget how to breathe. If this was what charged but otherwise empty air did to her, what would happen if they touched skin to skin?
As she thought that, Lucy got herself to look up. Charles had leaned away, but for a full second the side of his face drew so near to Lucy’s eyes that she was able to see—the expression on his face was one of relaxed nonchalance, he didn't even glance at her—but there, on the lobe of his ear, a sign that she was not alone in feeling this: it was hopelessly red, more red than any ear had any right to be without tomatoes rising up to have a say about it.
Lucy didn’t know what to do with this discovery. The two of them had never even talked to each other beyond a polite nod or hello. Mostly they’d been too shy to even look into each other’s eyes without a real reason.
It would probably have been easier if they’d been friends. If they’d become more than strangers before they found out what close proximity does to both of their bodies, then… then what would have stop them from finding out just how far its influence extended?
There was only one place it could possibly have led, though Lucy didn’t know much about that beyond the basics. She’d never felt desire before. She had no real idea about what would happen if she and Charles had been close enough to want to find out what this was… together.
That summer trip ended on a very sad note. Lucy and Charles had never quite gotten past the stealing-glances phase, and during the last night, after Charles had gathered enough courage to sit beside her in front of the camp’s bonfire with the obvious intention of talking to her, Lucy froze up so terribly that she couldn’t even get herself to turn to him as a signal that she was only waiting for him to begin.
Instead, she’d remained staring so resolutely at the fire anyone would think this was her first time seeing one and that, as far as she was concerned, nothing else existed. She stared like she was enthralled by it, but was also mortally afraid of it, or why would her legs tremble a great deal even as she tried to hug it to stillness?
Charles had not seen how Lucy shook, or if he had he attributed the reason to something else. He had turned his face away and, just as resolutely as Lucy, stared in that direction for the rest of the night.
But he didn’t get up and leave her.
No, they stayed that way for many minutes, sitting without talking, as close as they could ever get now to each other.
Until all the families that shared that last night returned to their tents, one by one, they sat together. Just two sullen teenagers, determined to have none of the others’ merriment. For how could they have celebrated? They were too busy drowning in torment.
It’s a wonder that they’d never once drawn attention to themselves, to the invisible but palpable something between them, not just on that night but from the moment they first laid eyes on each other.
It’s a wonder that nobody can see it now, this intense fire that for years had lain dormant, blazing fully into life the moment the master and mistress that lit it reunited to stoke it once again.
On the last possible moment that they could’ve gotten away with being locked inside a world of their own, Lucy and Charles regained their self-possession and something of their common sense too. They summoned a polite smile for everyone else’s benefit and subtly let themselves back into the general proceedings, just as if they’d never left.
It didn’t matter at all that they weren’t looking at each other now—the other person was only an arm’s reach away if ever they were attacked by doubts that this was really happening. In any case, the heat that was still coursing in waves through the physical distance they must set between them was enough of a reminder. For the time being.
“Actually, we are celebrating too,” Margaret was saying. Without taking her gaze off of her listeners, she reached a hand behind her and it landed perfectly on one of her son’s broad shoulders. “Charleston here has just graduated magna cum laude in Molecular Biology and he’s being offered a scholarship in three of the top medical schools in the country. He’s simply wonderful, and God is gracious. I was so happy, I even told our pastor—I told him, ‘Just you wait now, Father, when our boy’s a doctor, this whole parish will want for no quality medical attention. Charleston shall lend you his time and expertise at absolutely no cost.’ And you won’t believe this, but our pastor told me, he said, ‘Pride is a sin, my daughter, but in this case I believe you are simply telling the truth. Your son has a good, God-fearing heart in him. I have no worries on his behalf.’ Oh, you can just imagine how my heart swelled at his words.”
None of them had to imagine anything because Margaret was suddenly daubing at her eyes—so overcome was she with happiness. Noah gave a small but unmistakably indulgent smile at his wife before clapping his son on his other shoulder.
“You will forgive our effusiveness, I’m sure,” Noah sa
id, beaming apologetically at them all. “Rare it is that any child lives up to some of his parents’ expectations. When yours live up to all of them, it’s…” Unable to find a good enough word, he merely shook his head.
Lucy’s father rejoined with, “Oh, not at all, please. Noah, Margaret—we understand. We understand perfectly. Don’t we, darling?”
“That is great news indeed, Charles,” replied Helena, her eyes crinkling and also tearing a bit, in solidarity with Margaret’s. “Congratulations.”
Charles smiled a bit shyly and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He was being properly gracious and humble about it all, but one glance at his ear told Lucy that this affected him more than he showed—it was hopelessly red. She turned away and hid a smile behind her hand.
Confirming that Charles was highly intelligent was well and good, and she already knew he was a good son from back when they first met. What set Lucy’s heart to pounding again was how… how cute she thought Charles was behaving, so uncomfortable with being the center of attention. Suddenly it all felt too much, though not in a bad way. She thought she had already fallen long ago, so what was this happening to her now?
How much deeper, exactly, does this pit she had flung herself to go?
More importantly… should she dare to find out?
At That Moment...
“Madams, Sirs?” the floor manager himself appeared by their table. Almost half of the people around it had simply been standing in talk for several minutes, and no waiter could successfully find an opening to even approach them with the menus let alone ask for their orders. “If you would like to merge your parties, I believe we may be of service and accommodate it. Would this be agreeable?”
“Well, what do you say?” said Rick jovially to the other couple. “Come on, then! Let’s celebrate together.”
“Oh, yes, please,” added his wife. “Do join us.”
Margaret looked at her husband with moist eyes. “Noah?”
“Why don’t we ask our celebrants?” Noah said. “Both of them?”
All eyes then alternated between Charles and Lucy. Lucy thought it would be doubly foolish to look at Charles at that moment, but she felt his gaze on her and so she turned too. He was smiling at her with nothing but politeness, but with those ears he couldn’t possibly fool her. He was nervous about this game of detachment they were playing, but he looked like he was enjoying it too. Especially since Lucy was nearly hopeless at it.
“I think Lucy should decide,” said Charles. “It is her special day.”
“Oh, no, please,” Lucy replied at once, blushing prettily, her eyes wide when she was not blinking at Charles. “I’ll have other birthdays, but yours is… it’s an achievement truly worth celebrating, Charles. It’s… I think it’s very remarkable. O-of course, we don’t wish to intrude if you wish to celebrate as a family, but… please know you’re more than welcome to join us.”
Even as she was speaking, Lucy wasn’t sure for whose benefit her words were. Certainly not for Charles’. He already knew what Lucy thought, already knew what she wanted. For starters, she wanted for them to never part as strangers again. This was another chance God Himself had given them. She was determined not to lose it without a fight.
After confirming with his parents that it would really be alright, Charles agreed to join their party and share both their celebrations. The waiters went to work at once, expanding the space they occupied and placing more chairs and table settings.
When they were all seated—the Ambrose family at the makeshift space at one end of the now very long table, the son in between the parents—the waiters could finally hand over the menus and wait for their orders.
“Speaking of children who aren’t disappointments…” Rick began as he let his extended brood order first.
“Rick,” his wife said in admonition, not liking his wording.
“Oh, you know what I mean, darling. Well, our Lucy doesn’t have all that—” Rick gestured at Charles, at nothing in particular and everything at once “—under her belt, though I’m sure come graduation time next year we’ll be pleasantly surprised with a thing or two.”
He winked at his daughter who smiled, albeit nervously, and said, “Dad.”
“But I’m a simple man,” Rick went on. “And small things make me happy. Most fathers would start growing bald after their daughters reach a certain age, but I—I never had a problem with my Lucy, not one. She’s got good grades at school, keeps good friends—she spends most of her free time volunteering at our church, and the rest she spends at home, just reading the hours away—and not with trash novels or magazines either. She reads textbooks. She claims they’re fun. Well, and who am I to slam?” Rick said with a chuckle before taking a sip of water, then he became serious. “I count ourselves very fortunate that our Lucinda doesn’t ‘go out’, or party, or drink, or do any of those ‘experiments’ children today are so enamored of, God forgive their souls.”
Rick made the sign of the cross and his wife echoed him. The rest soon followed, even the people farther away at the table who hadn’t known what it was for. Some of the younger ones looked around, thinking their food had arrived when the waiter hadn’t even finished taking all their orders yet.
“Well,” Helena said with a wry smile. “While I’m not discounting any of that, I for one am beginning to despair that Lucy would ever find a husband. She has absolutely no interest in such things. Boys would come calling at our house now and again, and we wouldn’t have grumbled too much about her getting to know any of them better as long as it’s a decent fellow, but it’s Lucy herself who turns them down. Sends them all home politely, not even fifteen minutes in.” Helena shook her head at Lucy, looking torn.
“Eh, but what of it?” said Rick in his daughter’s defense. “She’s too young for that anyway. Really, darling.”
Helena looked at her husband patiently but not resignedly, and it was easy to tell this was an old argument. “We were twenty-two when we married, dear. Right out of college.”
All of a sudden, a smile bloomed on Rick’s face as he looked at Helena. “Eh, but we couldn’t wait, could we?” he said, to his wife’s mortification and to the amusement of the rest of the table who were following the conversation.
“Oh, come, come, Helena,” said Margaret, wiping at her eyes again, this time of tears born of mirth. “Your Lucy is a pretty girl, I’m sure she wouldn’t have a problem on that score, when the time comes. What do you think, son?” She turned to Charles. “Don’t you think Lucy is pretty?”
This was such an unexpected turn in the conversation that the participants stilled for a moment. And then—almost as one entity—they all turned to look at Charles. He was the one most shocked by the question, and for once he couldn’t find it in him to feign anything.
Lifting his gaze to meet Lucy’s, Charles said, “I think she’s very beautiful.”
It wasn’t just the words that made the others’ silence stretch on. It was the redness that was seeping from his lobes and down to his neck, making it flush visibly. And perhaps the answering bloom in Lucy’s cheeks as well.
In a whisper that carried over half of the table, Lucy’s cousin whispered to her brother, “Why are they blushing?” Adrian, being more in tune with his surroundings, elbowed the other young man in the rib—hard.
There was only one thing this looked like, and it was perfectly natural and even understandable that two attractive people of their age, who’ve known each other previously and haven’t seen each other in a while, would develop a crush on each other. For some reason that none of them could wrap their minds around to, however, both Lucy’s and Charles’ parents felt something like alarm over this—what they thought of as a new development.
She’s our only daughter, floated in the minds of Helena and especially of Rick, in an attempt to explain and justify their reaction to themselves.
He’s our only child, Margaret thought in a similar fashion and for much the same reason. Only Noah recogni
zed what was between the two people for what it was, and his only objection was that they were both too young.
Awkwardness compounded all their embarrassment, so the sudden appearance of the waiter over their end of the table was a godsend. Their attention now turned to choosing their meal—or seemingly so. The older women were determined to wipe the incident clean from their minds while the men turned the fact over for practicality’s sake. They thought they needed to prepare for eventualities.
Lucy, meanwhile, was lost in a confusing world of thrill and fear. Charles could barely stop himself from stealing a glance at her whenever the urge took him, which was often. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, but even if this were only a dream or an illusion, he was determined to never snap out of it...
The Next Summer...
Charleston didn’t truly understand what hit him—not five years ago, and somehow even less now.
At school he’d been the kind of student who made friends with like-minded people but mostly kept to himself. He was quiet and detached from the rest, just doing his work, giving more than what was expected of him, and at home he did what he thought most young people his age did, which was immerse himself in television shows, movies, books, or video games.
His friends used to tease him about this—that was not what most people his age did, they said. Most of them thought about the opposite sex and how they could get the opposite sex to like them, usually one in particular of whatever gender fit their bill. They spend their time on their phones or on the Internet, or hung around places with lots of people, all for that end.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed how some of the girls look at you?” one of his friends had said.
He hadn’t known how to answer. Yes, he did notice, but he thought that that was normal too, that it happened to everyone. It came as a surprise to him to learn that some of the smart girls he hung around with used to have a crush on him but had long since given up because of his general obtuseness in such matters. It came as an even greater surprise that some of the girls who liked him yet didn’t eventually become his friend thought he was gay.
He himself had begun to wonder about this peculiarity of his—why hadn’t he ever liked a girl before? It wasn’t because he was gay, he knew, because he’d never liked a boy either, but that didn’t make him feel better at all. There must be a good reason for this.
Finally, Charles approached his father for advice.
Noah had smiled—indeed, he seemed like he wanted to laugh at his son—and said that he understood what he was trying to say. He’d been the same when he was Charles’ age. He was nearly thirty, Noah revealed, before he knew what it was to like, and eventually to love, someone. It took his meeting Charles’ mother for this to happen.
“I think it’s because deep in our souls, we are albatrosses,” Noah mused, to the confusion and embarrassment of his son. “We may roam the skies with so many others of our kind, but in the end there is only one mate out there for us.” He patted Charles genially on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, my boy. I’m sure you’ll find her. In time.”
And he did.
The very next summer, Charles met Lucy.
But he’d been young, and awkward, and stupid. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing most of the time. The feeling in his chest whenever he thought of her—never mind when she was nearby—always rushed to his brain and reduced his intelligence to zero.
He didn’t know enough then to consider the prospect of regret. He only knew that he can’t let her know him if he was going to be like that. In the end, when he’d finally straightened himself up enough not to be too much of an embarrassment to himself, Lucy was no longer interested, if she ever was.
She was so bright and pretty, poised all the time even when she would laugh without reservations, which happened a lot. She always had a kind word for everyone, and anyone she meets doesn’t go without an acknowledgment of some kind.
Charles of the leaded tongue had been no exception. Though he could only nod in return, she always had a smile for him when they saw each other. He looked forward to those moments, minute after minute, day after day.
At the restaurant, after their food had arrived, most of the party had relaxed enough to resume their lighthearted banter. Lucy and Charles joined in, and in taking care not to pay each other any more attention than they would the rest, they made it even more obvious how much aware they were of each other, how much they occupied one another’s thoughts.
When Lucy’s cake arrived and it was time for everyone to sing her a happy birthday, almost everyone could guess what she might be wishing about as she closed her eyes and blew out her candles. As she released her hold on her blonde hair, drew her head up and opened her eyes, the first sight she sought out was Charles’ face.
It wasn’t even done on purpose, it was only the only act that made sense to her at that moment, and the only one her body could’ve done. Charles’ answer had been a wide, unabashed, and nigh unapologetic smile—just as if he believed this was a matter of course.
Confusion shooting up to the sky, their parents were forced to not deny what they were seeing any longer. Especially as their son’s smile and their daughter’s glowing look reminded all of them of a special day in their lives, when they said their marriage vows before the eyes of God, and the women had looked as happy and hopeful for the future, and the men emanated the same satisfaction and pride over what they could now call their own.
“Is there something…” Helena began. She cleared her throat and looked to the others, who one way or another gave the sign for her to continue. “Is there something you two would like to tell us?”
“Like when you planned on admitting you’ve been keeping contact with each other all these years, perhaps?” Rick interjected, much less calmly than his spouse. Margaret nodded vigorously, having arrived at the same conclusion.
“But…” Lucy began. She and Charles turned towards each other. “We haven’t. This is the first time we’ve seen each other since the camp. The same as everyone.”
Charles smiled again, still looking only at Lucy. “Which isn’t to say I haven’t thought about seeking you out all this time,” he revealed, making everyone’s jaw drop, even Lucy’s. “But I had a feeling I’d see you again, no matter what. God has plans for all of us, doesn’t He? I trusted that you were included in His plans for me.”
A sort of reverential awe fell over the company at Charles’ words. They weren’t only romantic, they also displayed the same kind of faith that most of them aspired to and admired in others. Whatever else their parents thought, he had already won admirers from the other people at their table.
“This is the first I am hearing of this…” said Margaret weakly. Her husband left his chair, walked to stand beside hers, and placed his arms around her. She leaned against him for physical and emotional support. Then she was in tears again. “I’ve never known you to like anyone. But I am glad it’s because you’ve been waiting for a special girl instead of… because you see I was starting to… well, I was concerned that you were—” she dropped her voice “—homosexual.”
“Which wouldn’t have been a bad thing at all, right, hon?” Noah was quick to make clear. “We do not condone such prejudice, correct?”
Margaret raised her head and nodded at once. “Why, yes, of course. No we do not. My concern was for ever having grandchildren, you know, if my son was…” Margaret cleared her throat and averted her eyes, judging it best not to finish that sentence at all.
Charles sighed fondly at his mother, then threw a wry smile Lucy’s way. She responded by hiding a small smile behind her hand, because what she truly wanted to do was to laugh at and with him. A moment later, that feeling was replaced by surprise, slight dread, and a very, very welcome warmth and giddiness.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bright,” Charles said, looking solemnly at each of Lucy’s parents in turn. “I would like to ask your permission to court your daughter. I promise to alway
s treat her well, and I would show her all the honor and respect she deserves, from today until the Lord sees it fit for us to part.”
At a complete loss, Helena and Rick looked at each other. What began as a simple twenty-first birthday celebration now truly marked the end of their eldest’s childhood. Here was a young man they both liked, from a family they both respected, and he was essentially asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage. With someone like Charles, courtship was only a part of that greater, daunting, but ever significant whole.
Joy bloomed in Helena’s chest, erasing all her fears and doubts. She wanted everything for her daughter—a proper Christian upbringing, a good education, and someday a career that she cherished—but she wanted this too. She wanted Lucy to know love, the kind of bliss one could only experience with a partner who loved you in return and knew you well because they seemed to speak to your very soul.
Beside Helena, her husband was beginning to tear up. She reached for his hand, knowing he was utterly reluctant to address the issue. But in the end, Rick bravely said, “We’ll leave it to Lucy, shall we? Whatever she decides, that’s what we want too.”
“Well, darling?” prodded Helena, barely managing to hold her excitement.
“Do you accept our son’s court?” Noah said, eyes crinkling warmly at the sides as he waited for Lucy’s answer.
“Oh, sweetie, say yes,” Margaret interjected, deeply in suspense.
With the most beautiful smile anyone who knew her had ever seen on her face, Lucy locked gazes with Charles and said clearly for everyone to hear: “Yes. I do.”
Epilogue
“You’re kidding,” the teenage boy said. Beside her, the older teenage girl rolled her eyes and pretended boredom, but there was no mistaking the wistfulness in her eyes. Their adolescent youngest sister was more honest in her reaction. She sighed and alternated adoring gazes at her parents, who were seated at the other side of the table. “That’s really how you guys first became a couple? And at this restaurant?”
The boy punctuated that question by looking around dubiously at the large room, with its high ceiling and ornate gold cornices. The attractive middle-aged couple followed suit, but with fondness and humor, each remembering the events of that day as they told it to their children.
“Don’t be stupid,” said their eldest to her brother. “Of course they edited and condensed it and made it all sound pretty.”
“Hmm, well yes, we did,” Lucy replied, smiling. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t all true. Besides, we could hardly tell you all the details.” She laughed and her husband joined in.
As they looked at each other’s eyes, all their shared history passed between them, and they were thankful to the Lord and grateful that they were never in twenty years disappointed in one another. All that promise they felt when they’d just met was still being fulfilled.
“So then,” said Charles, briskly addressing their children. “We told you we could tell this story in under an hour and we have. Guess that means we won, right? We get to pick the desert and where we would go after this.”
Another rolled eyes from their teenaged girl, a “whatever” from their boy, and a serious, enthusiastic “Yes!” from their youngest was what they got for an answer. Lucy reached out to pat her youngest’s head as she turned towards her husband.
“You are a terrible parent,” she told him, punctuating that with a kiss.
“Hey, I’m not the one who keeps bringing them to our parents’ homes. What do you think they would end up doing with this lot except ruin them for us?”
“Actually, I was hoping for them to take the kids on a camping trip.”
Dissolving in a fit of giggles, the married couple who was more in love with each other than ever drew long-suffering sighs from their older off-springs and another wistful one from the younger. All was perfect in the world God Himself had planned for them...
Giving The Best Of Me...
Christian Romance: Heaven on Earth... [4 Beautiful Christian Romance Stories] Page 3
