“Your secret’s safe with me.” He backed out of the parking space, shifted into drive, and reached over to take her hand. “I’m sorry the week got so busy. I hoped we’d be able to have lunch yesterday. Did you have a good time last night with Amy and Sara?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I’m not sure Amy’s going to want to hang out with us again. Especially if Paige and Rebecca aren’t there. Sara...needs prayer. That’s all I can think to say.”
“What’s going on?” David glanced over before changing lanes.
“She’s never made a big secret out of the fact that she isn’t as committed to abstinence as I am.” A blush stole over her cheeks and she cleared her throat. “But I never expected her to really follow through on it. And she acts like it’s no big deal. So she’s giving Amy a hard time.”
David frowned. “That’s rough. What’s her reasoning?”
“It’s not realistic in today’s culture.” Jen shook her head. “So I asked her if I could start stealing. After all, people back in Biblical times didn’t have as much as we do, so it made sense that we shouldn’t steal. But now...it’s less realistic. Right?”
David snickered. “How’d that go over?”
“About as well as you think. I got the annoyed, ‘It’s not the same thing and you know it’ defense. And okay, it isn’t, but it’s close enough. You can’t cherry pick what you believe in the Bible. You either take it all or you don’t.” Jen’s hands, which had been gesturing wildly, flopped into her lap. “It’s so frustrating.”
“You’re right. She needs prayer. I’m not sure there’s much else you can do if she’s not willing to listen to rational thought.” David turned into his parent’s driveway and turned off the car. “Here we are. Ready?”
Jen took a deep breath. “Ready as I’m going to be, I think.”
“That was delicious, Mrs. Pak. Thank you.” Jen folded her napkin and set it on her empty plate. In addition to the food being good, the conversation had been pleasant. Less awkward, in fact, than her lunch with David and Ji had been. It was clear Mrs. Pak loved her son. And that David was a little bit of a mama’s boy. Since it didn’t appear to be extreme, it was kind of cute. “Can I help with the dishes?”
Mrs. Pak grinned but shook her head. “No. I have it. Why don’t you and David go sit on the deck. There are enough hints of spring in the air that it should be pleasant. I’ll bring out some coffee. You drink coffee?”
Jen nodded.
Mrs. Pak made a shooing motion. “Then go, sit.”
“Dinner was good, Mom. Thanks.” David shook his head and pushed away from the table, extending his hand to Jen.
Ji looked at her husband. “Feel like some air?”
“Oh. I could use a hand in the kitchen, Ji. Min, you too.” Mrs. Pak jerked her head toward the doorway.
Ji snickered as she stood and began collecting plates from the table.
Jen took David’s hand and followed him through the living room and out the sliding door onto the deck.
“So?” David settled on the gliding rocker and tugged her hand so she sat beside him.
“They’re nice. And dinner really was amazing. You eat like that all the time when you come over?”
He chuckled. “The menu varies. My dad loves to grill, so when the weather’s nice, he’ll do ribs and burgers.”
“Ribs and burgers? Really?”
David nodded. “It’s not always Korean barbecue. Though that happens, too. We like all kinds of food around here.”
Grasshoppers jumped in her belly. “Did I do okay?”
He squeezed her hand. “You did great. You were you, which is all you needed to be.”
She fought the denial that tried to push its way out of her mouth. What did he see in her? She didn’t mind—in fact, it left her warm. Could she believe it? Trust him?
“Coffee.” Mrs. Pak came out with a tray holding two steaming mugs, a sugar bowl and a pitcher of cream. She set it on the table near the glider and rested a hand on Jen’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming. I enjoyed meeting you. I hope it won’t be the last time you’re here.”
“Thank you. I feel the same.” Jen smiled.
Approval shone in the older woman’s eyes. “I’ll leave you to your coffee.”
She disappeared back inside and David chuckled and slid his arm around her shoulders. “That’s the seal of approval right there. She wouldn’t leave us alone if she didn’t like you. Or she’d send Dad out here to casually check on us.”
She’d passed. Apparently, with flying colors. When was the last time she’d done that? Jen leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
David turned, his lips meeting hers. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes and her hand moved to his cheek, the tiniest bit of stubble rubbing against her palm. The rest of the world faded from her awareness, leaving just the two of them and their kiss.
Jen’s mom opened the door. Her eyes widened and a smile worked its way across her lips. “Baby. It’s so good to see you. What brings you by? Come in.”
Jen stepped into the house and let Tribble down. The dog yipped and tore off. Her father’s laugh echoed out from the den. “Well, dad’s happy now. I hadn’t seen you in a while. And—even though we’ve still been talking on the phone, I wanted to apologize for the last time you came over. I handled it badly.”
“Oh, baby.” Her mom pulled Jen into her arms. “I owe you an apology, too. I know better than to try and throw your depression in your face. But it makes me so mad. Not that you’re depressed—that’s not your fault—but I don’t like to see you hurting, struggling, and I’m helpless to do anything about it. If I could fix it for you, I would. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do.” Jen eased out of her mom’s hug. Honestly, the fact that her mother would fix it was part of the problem. Sometimes she needed that space to try and fix it herself. On the flip side, she could be better about asking for help when she needed it. She didn’t have to try and do it all on her own. “Let’s go see how many treats dad’s given Tribble.”
With a laugh, Jen’s mom headed toward the den. “You didn’t feed her, did you?”
“I gave her breakfast, but maybe she’ll skip dinner.”
“Skip dinner?” Jen’s dad frowned and rubbed Tribble’s head. “Such a mean mommy you have, threatening to starve you to death.”
Jen chuckled. “Missing one meal, especially after all the treats I know you’re going to give her, will not have her wasting away. The vet said she needs to lose three pounds anyway. She’s getting chubby.”
“She’s not. She’s perfect. Aren’t you?” Dad hugged the dog to his chest, eliciting a yip and frantic face licking. “It’s nice to see you, too, though. What brings you by?”
“Can’t I just drop by?” Jen settled onto the couch.
“Sure, you can. But you usually don’t. Isn’t Sunday lunch with friends?” Her dad let go of Tribble and the dog moved to his lap, turning a circle before settling in.
“Yeah. And we had a quick lunch, but everyone was headed in different directions after, so I swung by for Trib and came here. I didn’t want to spend the afternoon at home by myself.” She’d thought about it, but the walls had started closing in almost immediately. Before the familiar heaviness could settle over her and the tapes of all the things that were wrong with her could start replaying in her mind, she’d grabbed the dog and run for her car. At the time, she hadn’t had a destination, but before long, her parent’s house had been the obvious choice. The new dose of her medication helped—a lot—but maybe there was no perfect dose that would get her to a place where she was like everyone else.
“Well. I can turn this off and we can play a game, if you want?”
“You don’t have to do that, Dad, unless you want to.” Jen leaned back. The basketball game didn’t hold a lot of interest, but her dad enjoyed it.
“How’s your puzzle coming along?” Her mother perched on the edge of her dad’s recliner and began petting Tribble.
&nbs
p; Jen smiled. She and David had made some progress together. But it still was likely to take her the best part of the year. “It’s going. The edges are done, and I’m starting to see some of the picture take shape. It’s just good that I don’t have a burning desire to host a dinner party anytime soon.”
Her mother laughed. “The day you hold a dinner party, I’ll...I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be spectacular.”
“It could happen.” Maybe. Okay, probably not. Jen cleared her throat. “Anyway, you’d mentioned wanting to meet David. Did you still want to do that?”
Her parents stilled and exchanged a look. Her mother spoke first. “You’re still seeing him?”
Jen nodded.
“And?”
Jen hunched her shoulders at her father’s question. “And what?”
He angled his head to the side. “It’s serious?”
“Getting there. I like him a lot. And he...he likes me. He understands the depression.”
“He has it too?” Her mother frowned.
“No. His sister has struggled with it though. Most of her life. So he’s...amazing.”
Dad nodded. “Then I’d like to meet him, yes.”
“Me, too. Do you want to bring him over for dinner? Or we could go out? Probably better to go out. I’m not going to win any cooking awards. We all know that.” Her mother laughed.
“You’re a good cook, Mom. I’m fine with whatever.”
“Let’s go out. That way your mother doesn’t have to get all worked up about what to make and all that.”
Her mother grinned. “You know me too well. Choose a place and let us know when to meet you. We’ll be there.”
“Okay. You’re gonna like him.” They had to. He was too important for them not to.
“I already do, baby.” Her mother reached over and patted her leg. “Now. Basketball or board game?”
“Hey—have a couple of minutes?” David poked his head in Jen’s office then frowned and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”
Jen rubbed her eyes and pushed away from her monitor. How did he see her so clearly when no one else noticed a thing? She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just one of those days.”
He scooted around her desk and perched on its edge, taking her face in his hands. “I’m sorry. Can I...can I pray for you?”
She blinked. Her chest tightened and hot tears formed behind her eyes. “You’d do that?”
“I already do. Just this time would be in person.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers before bowing his head. “Heavenly Father, Jen is one of Your precious daughters and I ask that You would fill her with the tangible knowledge of Your love. Give her peace and comfort and the strength to get through today. Jesus, we ask that You would take her depression from her, but if that’s not Your will, we ask that You would surround her with people who understand and will walk alongside her through this trial. In Your name we pray, amen.”
“Amen.” Jen sniffled as a tear wormed its way down her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Any idea why today’s so hard?”
She shook her head. If she knew, she’d do something about it. But the wall descended whenever it wanted to. Or so it seemed. Things had been a little better as her new dose built up. And then today—wham—it was back. The heaviness that covered her entire body, the chanting litany of reasons why she’d never be enough, the desperate urge to crawl into bed, pull a pillow over her head, and never resurface. But she’d made herself get up and she’d made it to work. Maybe she wasn’t as productive as a normal day, but she could fake it with the best of them. She forced a smile. “Did you have a reason you stopped by?”
He blinked. “Mostly I wanted to say hello. It’s been busy again this week and I missed you.”
Jen stared at her hands. She’s missed him, too, but had convinced herself—or nearly had, at least—that she’d been imagining his feelings for her.
He tipped her chin up and held her gaze. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Are you going to make me beg?”
“Beg? For what?”
He shook his head. “You didn’t miss me?”
She grinned. “I did. I...it’s not silly?”
David shrugged. “I’m not the best person to ask, seeing as how I have a vested interest in your answer, but I’m going to go with no. It’s not silly.”
Jen hunched her shoulders. Had she ever missed someone when she knew she’d see them on the weekend? None of her previous boyfriends came to mind. Was this...could she be in love with him? It was too soon. Even if it wasn’t, she’d keep it to herself. “Okay.”
“Even if it is? We can be silly together.” David winked and leaned forward to press a brief kiss to her lips, following with another on the tip of her nose. “I should get back upstairs. There’s a meeting in...” he glanced at his watch and groaned “six minutes. Call you tonight?”
She nodded. “I’d like that. Thanks. For coming down. For praying. For all of it.”
“My pleasure.”
David skimmed through the email in his personal account. He rarely checked it. His friends and family knew to send something to his work email if they needed him to see it. Or they texted him. That was always better. Most of the email was spam or suggestions of women who might be a good match from the online dating site he’d signed up with. He really should go in and delete that account. What had possessed him to do it in the first place? Desperation. Coupled with a terrible first date. But they were past that now and almost to the place where they could laugh about it.
But he wasn’t taking Jen to Shirlington again anytime soon. Just in case.
Could he log in on his phone and just take care of it? He opened the web browser and entered the URL. Download their app? No, thank you. He didn’t need to download an app just to delete an account and then have to delete the app. He’d take care of it when he had a minute with his laptop. As it was—his gaze flicked to the clock—he needed to jump in the car and start heading to Jen’s. Showing up late to the restaurant where they were meeting her parents was not the impression he wanted to make.
Traffic was about what he expected on a Saturday evening. Not light, but not terrible. He found a parking spot near Jen’s apartment and was shifting into park when she stepped out and pulled the door closed behind her. She hurried to his car and wrenched open the passenger side.
“Hi. I’m nervous. I was pacing and driving Tribble up a wall, so when I saw you pull in, I figured I’d let her off the hook and just come out. That’s okay, right?”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s fine. This isn’t a big deal. It’s dinner. Unless you know of some reason why your parents wouldn’t like me?”
Jen’s laugh bordered on shrill. “No. Of course not. You’re amazing. I’m sure they’ll love you. It’s just that I haven’t really brought many guys to meet them. Not guys that matter. They’ve met guys I know, obviously. When I was in high school, I had friends over all the time. But this is different.”
He smiled and kissed her knuckles as warmth spread through him. He was amazing and mattered to her. Even knowing it was early to be trotting out the “L” word didn’t stop him from hungering to hear it. And say it. Of course, it wasn’t as if there was a schedule somewhere he could print out that told him how long to wait. They’d been seeing each other almost daily since the beginning of the year. It was nearly March. Did the fact that they worked together—and therefore could have lunch together frequently—change anything? He bit back a sigh. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about this. “Where are we meeting again?”
“That went well, I think.” David ran his knuckles lightly down Jen’s cheek as they stood by her apartment door. “Is your dad always so funny, or was he trying to ease tension?”
Jen fumbled her keys. “A little of both, I think. Do you want to come in? I could make some tea? I don’t have decaf or I’d offer coffee.”
“Okay.” He didn’t want t
ea. But he also wasn’t ready to put an end to their evening. They’d had dinner and dessert in record time for a Saturday night. And their server had clearly been in a hurry to turn the table, so they hadn’t lingered. Which had them back at Jen’s before seven-thirty. He followed her in and pushed the door closed before tucking his hands into his pockets. It was that or reach for her and kiss her like he’d been imagining all evening. And that wasn’t a particularly productive train of thought to encourage.
Tribble bounded from the kitchen and stood, quivering, at the sliding glass door. Jen followed on her heels. “I need to let her out for a minute. Wanna come? Or you can wait here. We won’t be long.”
David reached out and took her hand. “I’ll come. It’s a nice night.”
They stood on the patio while Tribble frolicked in the grass and did her business. It wasn’t cold, but February wasn’t leaving without one last little bite of winter in the air.
Jen leaned against him. “It’s getting cold. Hurry, Trib.”
He slipped his arm around her and tugged her closer. “But the moon is amazing. Look at it.”
She lifted her face to the sky where the nearly-full orb glowed silver. “Oh, it’s lovely.”
“You’re lovely.”
Pink spilled across her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say when you say that.”
He leaned in and brushed a kiss over her lips. “That’s okay.”
Tribble dashed over and began yipping while running circles around their ankles. Jen laughed. “I think she’s ready to go in.”
David chuckled. “Looks like it.”
Back in Jen’s living room, David sat while Jen took Tribble into the kitchen for a treat and to get the tea. When she came back, she set two steaming mugs on the coffee table and settled next to him. “What now? Want to see if there’s a movie on?”
A movie was a good idea. Wasn’t it? He’d have to keep in mind that they were both headed to church in the morning. And they needed to be able to go with a clean conscience. He could do that. “Sure. But before we do that, can I ask you something?”
A Handful of Hope Page 14
