Jen sat, running her finger over the edge of the placemat. Silk? Couldn’t be. Who would use silk placemats? What if something dripped on them?
David winked and strode away, disappearing through a doorway that must be the kitchen. Jen looked out the window at the cars making their way toward the mall, maybe to shop or see a movie, typical Saturday night things. Dusk was already falling. Lights were coming on. From up here, it almost looked peaceful.
“It’s a great view. I get distracted by it, sometimes, when I’m supposed to be working.”
Jen jumped, her heart racing, and not all from surprise. Just his proximity was enough to send her pulse into overdrive. “I can imagine.” She accepted the water and took a long drink. “Thanks.”
David set a plate holding two stuffed portabella mushrooms in the center of the table before sitting across from her and stretching out his hand. “Can we pray?”
“Of course.” Jen wrapped her fingers around his—how could something be electrifying and comforting at the same time?—and bowed her head.
“Dear Jesus, thank you for Jen. Thank you for making her the amazing woman that she is and for bringing her into my life. Bless our time together. Let words we say and the things we think bring you honor and glory. Thank you for the meal we’re about to eat, bless it to our bodies. Amen.” He squeezed her hand before letting go.
One corner of Jen’s mouth curved up. His prayer had eased something inside her. It was unconventional—at least in her mind. Who prayed like that for the person they were sitting with? And yet, it had made her feel special. Cherished. She’d analyze it later. “Those look amazing.”
Using two forks as makeshift tongs, he lifted one mushroom and placed it on her plate, then repeated the action for his own. “Thanks. Did you see the season where there were two cowboys competing?”
“Mmm. I think so. There was the girl from Alaska on that one, too, right?”
David chuckled. “That’s the one. These mushrooms were on one of the episodes, though I forget which one. I’ve always liked portabellas though, so I knew I had to try them. They never posted the recipe, but I’ve played around a little and this is the most successful result.”
Flavors exploded in her mouth as she took a bite. “You came up with this on your own? No recipe?”
He shrugged. “I re-watched it a few times, listening to what they said they were doing and taking notes. You like it?”
“A lot. You have a recipe?”
“I do. And, given the right incentive, I might share it with you.”
Incentive? Given the sparkle in his eyes, he was teasing. But still. “Yeah? What’d you have in mind?”
“Hold that thought. I think our main course just buzzed.” David stood and disappeared back into the kitchen. Accompanied by the rustling and banging in the kitchen, Jen finished her mushroom. It really was very good. Before long, he returned with two plates of food. “Here we go. Chicken Cordon Blue with asparagus and a parsnip puree.”
“Fancy.” Jen leaned closer and sniffed the artfully decorated blob of what appeared to be slightly runnier than usual mashed potatoes. “I don’t know that I’ve ever had a parsnip before. What is it?”
“It looks like a white carrot, but the taste is sharp and, I don’t know, tangy? Try it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. There’s no clean plate club here, I promise.”
Jen chuckled. “Good to know. Do you cook this fancy for all your friends?”
“I...really only cook for my family. And even then, not often. Special occasions, you know?”
He didn’t do this all the time? That made this something special. A date. She’d already figured it was a date, but not a capital D date. She looked down at the food, her mouth watering. She dipped the tines of her fork into the parsnips and tasted them. “Huh. Not what I was expecting. But good.”
He grinned and started cutting into his chicken. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You really don’t do this for everyone?”
He shook his head.
“Well, thanks.”
“Any time. I mean it.” He held her gaze. “I’d like to make this a habit.”
Heat crawled across her cheeks. “Why?”
David set his knife and fork down, a frown etched into his features. “Why do you say that?”
Jen drew her eyebrows together. “Say what?”
“When I say something about wanting to spend time with you, or how much I like you, you ask why.”
She winced. She said it aloud. “I thought I kept that internal. Sorry.”
“Even if you didn’t say it, you thought it. So my question stands. Why?”
She shrugged. How could she explain it? “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Try? I’d really like to know.”
Her appetite evaporated and she nudged her plate away, crossing her arms on the table. “I guess I don’t understand why anyone would think I matter. I’m just me. I’m not a particularly amazing programmer, or team lead, or, well, anything. I’m average. I don’t have a marvelous figure, I’m not beautiful. There’s nothing about me that’s special.”
David reached across the table and pried one of her hands loose, clasping it in his own. “I promise you, none of that is the truth. You wouldn’t be a team lead—or even still on the team as a programmer—if you weren’t good at it. I know Jenisse. She runs a tight ship and doesn’t suffer fools gladly. For her to put you in a team lead position on any project, let alone one with customer contact? It means she thinks very highly of you. And she’s a good judge of character and ability. The rest? So much of that is in the eye of the beholder and this beholder, these eyes? They say you’re wrong.”
Jen looked away, turning to stare out the window. Headlights glowed like diamonds on the road below, their edges blurring as her eyes filled will tears. She blinked rapidly. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the night by crying.
His fingers tightened on hers. “So when I say I want to spend time with you? It’s because I think you’re beautiful, intelligent, interesting, and fun to be around. And I wish there was a way to convince you to believe me.”
Jen stared up at the ceiling. Tribble was snoring at her feet, but that wasn’t what kept her awake. David’s words echoed in her mind. Would they be loud enough to erase the other words from so many different people that said the opposite? Her head knew he was probably right. Her heart was a different matter. Though they’d always insisted otherwise, she knew her parents regretted not having more children. She wasn’t enough for them. Would she be if she was different somehow? Or was it a simple matter of quantity?
She sighed. Her parents loved her. That wasn’t a question. And her team at work liked, maybe even respected, her.
So why couldn’t she accept that? Believe it? Why did the doubts creep in, crippling her?
David said he liked her. He’d said more than that, but it boiled down to the same thing. And if someone like him could say it and mean it...maybe it was time she figured out how to believe it.
Jen fidgeted with her purse as she waited. The church secretary periodically looked up from whatever it was she was typing and smiled, but otherwise seemed content not to make conversation. Not that Jen wanted to make conversation. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure she even wanted to be here. She ran her hand over the upholstery of the chair. How could something look so comfortable and yet fail on every point? It was the scratchiest, hardest chair she’d ever sat in. Maybe it kept people from coming and hanging out in the office. But who’d do that?
Pastor Paul Brown’s office door opened and he poked his head out. His gaze landed on her. “Jennifer? Sorry to keep you waiting, come on in.”
She took a deep breath and stood, willing her heart to quit racing. This was just the pastor. He always seemed friendly. Hopefully that would prove to be the case. She managed a weak smile. “No problem. Thanks for seeing me.”
Paul closed the door. The window that took up the majority
of the top half of it would let anyone who wanted to see in, but it would at least muffle their conversation from the general waiting area. He gestured to the two chairs arranged conversationally in the corner of his office. “Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Jen eyed the chairs as she sat. They looked the same as the ones in the waiting area. Well, at least it would keep the meeting short. She swallowed and wound her fingers together to keep them still. “I’m not sure how to start. I...” She paused and searched for words. Better, probably, to just spit it out. “I struggle with depression.”
Paul nodded. “So many people do. Are you on medication?”
“Yes. But lately it hasn’t been helping like it used to and...is it because I’m lacking somehow? In faith?”
“No.” Paul leaned forward, his expression earnest. “Depression isn’t an indicator for a lack of faith any more than another disease is. But for whatever reason, Satan is really good at convincing Christians that depression is purely a spiritual problem. I’m not saying there can’t be a spiritual component to it—obviously that’s true of any circumstance. But we have to, at some point, fall back on God’s sovereignty, and ask Him to use us and our particular situation for His glory.”
Use depression for His glory? “How would that even happen?”
Paul chuckled. “That’s a big question that I’m not sure I can answer. But if depression draws you closer to Christ, then that’s certainly going to be one way. Beyond that? You never know who’s going to see you walk through something and be impacted by it.”
Jen nodded. That made sense. Sort of. “So...I’m not a failure as a Christian for needing medication? For probably needing to get my doctor to increase my dose?”
“No.”
That’s it? A simple no? Where was the lecture about how maybe she should wait and trust God to get her through? Or to pray harder for healing? She smiled, her eyes filling with tears. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Can we pray?”
Jen bowed her head and let the pastor’s words wash over her. They brought a peace that had been missing—though she hadn’t realized it until it was back. A tear slipped down her cheek. She’d call her doctor on her way in to work. And then she’d call David and see if she could pick up lunch. She was running late, which she’d expected and was why she’d left Tribble at her parent’s house for the day, but some things—some people—were worth making the time for. David was one of them.
David hid his phone under the conference table and checked his messages. The ten-minute meeting was heading into its second hour. At this rate, he wasn’t going to be out before his one o’clock meeting started. Forget having the time to try and convince Jen to go grab lunch with him. Even running across the street to Mia’s was looking iffy at this point.
While the presenter droned on, he tapped out a few quick replies to emails then opened his texts. Jen. He smiled. This was the first time she’d sought him out. Maybe their conversation on Saturday had gotten through. He checked the time. Maybe he could squeeze food in, especially since she was bringing it with her. He tapped back a reply and shot up a quick prayer that the meeting would be over by the time he told her. The last thing he wanted to do was stand her up. Talk about undoing all the work you’d put into something.
“Did you have anything to add, David?”
He started and looked up. “No. I think you covered it.”
One of his colleagues snickered but Kurt nodded as his cell phone began to ring. “Great, then I think we’re set. That’ll be all.”
“Nice recovery.” Martin elbowed David in the ribs as he brushed past.
“Thanks.” David collected his laptop and coffee mug and aimed for the door before Kurt could think of something to add to his workload. Thankfully, Kurt’s phone call had engrossed the man in the conversation. Lunch with Jen was looking more and more possible.
Back in his office, David hooked his laptop back up to the monitor and scrolled through the email that had accumulated over the last twenty minutes. Why did people send so much email? Was it impossible to just get up, walk down the hall, and ask someone? Most of the questions had been answered. So that was good. But he needed to get the team lead position filled. Fast. The applicant he’d thought was going to be the internal transfer he needed had backed out at the last minute. And now, Stephen was gone, so handoff wasn’t going to happen. Whoever they brought in was going to get dumped in the deep end and forced to swim. Which wasn’t a bad way to test their mettle, even if it was going to be rocky for the first couple of weeks. Now they just needed someone to take the job. He needed to check in with Min, see if he was serious about changing jobs. The brief conversation he’d had with Kurt about the possibility of hiring his brother-in-law had gone well, so if Min wanted the job, David could basically guarantee it was his.
He tapped out an email to Min and another to his contact in HR.
“Hey. You ready to eat?” Jen stood in his doorway, a plastic bag in her hand and two big drinks hugged close by her other arm.
David checked the time and hit send. “Absolutely. Would you mind eating here? I have a one o’clock that I can’t miss.”
“Sure.”
David crossed to the round table by his whiteboards. He pushed a pile of proposal research and status reports out of the way and pulled out one of the four chairs before reaching for the drinks. “Here. Let me help.”
Once he’d taken the drinks, Jen shook her arm and set the bag on the table. “Those are cold. I got sandwiches, hope that’s okay?”
“Sounds great.” David waited for her to sit before doing so himself. He wanted to ask what prompted the lunch, but he didn’t want to make it weird. He cleared his throat. “You’re just getting in?”
“Yeah, well, about thirty minutes ago, but yeah. I stopped at the church to see Pastor Brown.” Jen glanced over her shoulder then got up and shut the door to his office before returning to her seat.
David’s eyebrows lifted. “Everything okay?”
“Sort of. I take anti-depressants, and lately they don’t seem to be doing such a great job. It took my mom, and you, pointing it out for me to realize how bad it was getting. Again.”
David nodded. So his sister had been right. She always had been smart.
Jen narrowed her eyes. “You’re not surprised.”
“My sister struggles with depression. Has for a long time. She pointed out to me that there were some similarities.”
“Was that before Saturday, or after?”
“Before.”
Jen was silent for several long seconds. David looked down at his sandwich and began to unwrap it. Should he not have told her? He wasn’t going to lie though. She took a deep breath. “Knowing that, or I guess suspecting it, you still said that you wanted to know me better? To spend time with me?”
He put the sandwich down and cocked his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Jen blinked rapidly. “Because no one’s ever chosen me like that. Warts and all. Usually it sends people—guys—running.”
“Then they’re idiots.”
She laughed. The sound was strained and watery, but there was still a hint of humor in it. “Okay. Then...if you’re not an idiot, does that mean we’re dating? Like a couple? Exclusive?”
He couldn’t stop the grin as he reached over to take one of her hands, as much to stop the nervous twisting of her fingers as to sate the desire to touch her. “I’d like that, if you would.”
She nodded.
“Then that’s that.” He brought her fingers to his lips and, holding her gaze, kissed them. Sparks flew between them. David longed for the taste of her lips, but his office was the wrong place for that. “The Pastor helped you with that?”
Jen giggled, an almost desperate sound, and tugged her hand free. As she unwrapped her own sandwich, she broke eye-contact. “No. I wanted to know if it was me, something wrong with me. Obviously it’s something wrong with me, but my faith?”
David�
�s heart ached for her. Ji had struggled with the same questions. He remembered listening to her sob while her parents and the elders from the church met with her in the living room after he was supposed to be in bed. At the time, they’d been convinced that there was, in fact, something wrong with her spiritually. “And?”
“He said it’s no different than any other illness. That God can heal me, but He might not. And that what’s important is that I trust and seek Him and get the help I need.”
David breathed a silent prayer of thanks for this pastor who he barely knew. It made him appreciate the church even more than he already did. “That’s good.”
She nodded and cleared her throat. “You should probably eat if you’re going to be on time to your meeting.”
He glanced at the time on his phone and nodded. “One quick thing, if I can backtrack a little?”
“Yeah?”
“Since you’re my girlfriend now, will you come to a wedding with me this weekend for Valentine’s Day?”
My girlfriend. The words had echoed in his head all afternoon. Could they be any more middle school? She’d said yes without batting an eye, but she must think he was an idiot. Girlfriend. He shook his head and texted Colin that he did, in fact, have a plus one coming after all. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. Knowing Colin, he’d make it work.
He frowned at his phone. Girlfriend. That meant he should text her—or call—right? Not that he had anything to say. His afternoon had been a fairly typical one and she couldn’t possibly be interested in hearing about it. He snickered as his phone began to ring, Jen’s face filling the screen. Maybe she was interested after all.
“I was just thinking about you.” David settled back against the arm of the couch and stretched his legs out, his sock-clad feet crossed at the ankle.
There was a smile in her voice. “That’s handy. Good things, I hope?”
“Always.” Maybe that was a tiny lie. He’d certainly had his share of doubts and questions, and he wasn’t ruling out the possibility of their return. But that was what happened in a relationship, wasn’t it? And when it did, you worked through it, prayed through it, and focused on the positive.
A Handful of Hope Page 11
