Aglow

by Michelle Pennington

  Aglow

  By Michelle Pennington

  Chapter 1

  Where the Love Light Gleams

  Dusk was falling and the curling ribbon of the old, familiar highway began to glow as drivers turned on their lights. Because it was the Christmas season, the ordinary sight took on a festive magic. The red and white lights glimmered like crystal beads, strung in a garland around the southern Missouri hills. As she saw it, Ashley felt warm tingles of happiness for the first time in weeks. She embraced the feeling, eager to shake off the depression that plagued her.

  Her drive home for Christmas at the end of every fall semester had always been more enjoyable than this. Anticipation usually brightened the long trip, but it had eluded her this year. She’d tried to cheer up by listening to festive music and thinking about all the delights awaiting her, but it hadn’t helped. No matter how hard she’d concentrated, her thoughts had always reverted to the source of her misery.

  The dull ache that had clung to her the last few weeks was different than anything she’d ever experienced. It was bizarre to be depressed at a time when she should be feeling proud, or at the very least, relieved. After nine semesters at the University of Utah, she had her bachelor’s degree in biology and had graduated at the top of her program. But now she stood at a crossroad in her life with no clue where she wanted to go. The bitter truth was that she would have a lonely path, no matter what she chose to do. Her scholastic achievements and uncertain future highlighted the void in her life.

  Ashley possessed a very logical mind and she approached every decision methodically. Her roommate had enjoyed teasing her by changing her last name from Wright to Always-Right. But when it came to guys, she was always wrong. All of her friends had fallen in love and married through the years, but even surrounded by thousands of good Mormon boys, she had not been similarly blessed. Resentment clouded her ability to have faith that she would someday find the happiness she yearned for.

  After barely surviving her chubby high school years, Ashley had gone to college with a tender but hopeful heart. Determined to improve herself, she had dieted, exercised, and tried to become more outgoing. She had been successful to some degree, and had often dated through the years.

  Then last summer, she had been thrilled when Derek Jorgenson had asked her out. She’d frequently seen him at church, but had considered him to be out of her league. Derek received more than his fair share of female attention, so Ashley had been surprised to realize at a family home evening activity that he was flirting with her. She had been flattered and had responded with naïve enthusiasm. On their few dates, he had overwhelmed her with compliments and attention. It wasn’t surprising that she had fallen hard for him, and she’d believed that he had fallen for her too.

  Unfortunately, she realized too late that Derek was the kind of guy who enjoyed the attention and homage he got from girls, but moved on before it got too serious. With no warning, she had gone to church one Sunday and found him sitting next to a skinny blond she didn’t know. His arm was around her on the back of the pew and the girl was playing with his tie in a possessive way that was unmistakable.

  How she’d made it through church or the weeks that followed, she didn’t know. It had been painful and humiliating for her, but somehow she’d survived it. In the end, Derek had done more damage to her self-esteem than her heart. Because of her insecurities, Ashley had wondered if she would ever meet a man that she’d be willing to risk her heart and peace of mind for.

  Then, on Thanksgiving, she had. For one golden day she had glimpsed what love could be. Rather than give her hope however, the whole experience taunted her with how unlikely it was that she would ever find love. Her eyes blurred as she thought of him again, and she impatiently rubbed the tears from her eyes.

  “Why did I have to meet him? I mean, really, why?”

  As she spoke the words, they hung bitterly around her, waiting for an answer that wouldn’t come. But Ashley couldn’t allow herself to follow that train of thought further, so she turned on the radio and scanned the local stations until she found one playing Christmas songs.

  In her abstraction, she hadn’t noticed how close she was to home until she saw a sign that read, “Historic Forest View, Next Three Exits.” It was a large, artistic billboard with scrolled antique lettering, not a sign from the Highway Department. It was paid for by the city’s board of tourism. Both the sign and the board were new, and Ashley had wondered ever since they’d put it up what was historic about her home town. She knew it benefitted the antique and hospitality businesses however, so she didn’t blame them too much.

  Forest View lay in a valley along the route of a new highway that went to Branson, Missouri. Branson was a popular tourist destination in the area and the flood of tourists flocking there year round was beginning to benefit the small town. Businesses that catered to these tourists had sprung up like weeds and the population had seen a sudden and unprecedented boom. The billboards advertising hotels and bed and breakfasts were unsightly, but Ashley was thankful that Forest View had so far managed to retain most of its charm.

  Anticipation at last began to build within her as she crested a hill and caught a glimpse to her right of the little valley all lit up and welcoming. “Jingle Bells” began to play on the radio, so she turned it up and pushed her problems to the back of her mind.

  Ashley took the exit that would take her through town, even though it wasn’t the shortest way to her parent’s house. She wanted to see the old downtown area where she knew the weathered buildings and old streets would be bright with Christmas lights and decorations. The lights that were strung from lamppost to lamppost across Main Street were the same old fashioned Christmas lights she remembered from her childhood. Many of the bulbs were burned out, but somehow that only made it more nostalgic. An enormous tree strung with white lights glowed in the square. The golden star on top seemed to be guiding her home.

  Soon she turned onto the road that wound slowly up a hill to where her parents lived. The houses that she passed along the way were also strung with lights and they seemed to twinkle a welcome at her as she went by. The familiar tones of Bing Crosby singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” began to play, and Ashley laughed at the perfect timing. It was like a scene from a movie, complete with a soundtrack, as she rounded the last curve and pulled into her parents’ driveway.

  Their house was a two-story red brick home that stood solidly under a cluster of pine trees. An extravagant amount of Christmas lights outlined the roof, the windows, and the railing of the porch. There were also lights on the trees, bushes and fence as well, making her parents’ yard look like a beautiful, glowing fairyland.

  She sat amazed for a moment, trying to take it all in. She hadn’t seen such a display at her parents’ house since before her father’s back injury three years ago. Her brother Shawn had come home from his mission this year however, so she figured that her mom had somehow coerced him into putting up her lights. “He must have enjoyed that,” Ashley thought. She’d have to remember to tease him about it.

  She got out of the car as the front door opened and her mom came out through a stream of light to welcome her. Her dad and her brother Shawn followed close behind. They all talked at once, hugging her and pelting her with questions. She clung to her mom for a moment, finding the peace that always came in the familiar warmth and scent of her embrace.

  Then realizing that her Dad and Shawn were gathering up her things to bring inside, she turned to help them. “Don’t worry about your stuff,” her mom said, stopping her. “The men can get it. You’ve got to be exhausted after driving all day.” Her mom put an arm around her and guided her up the front steps. “I expected you long before now. What took you so long?” her Mom asked. Without pausing to let Ashley a
nswer, she continued, “I was going to call you, but I don’t like you talking on your cell phone when you’re driving.”

  Ashley felt rude going inside without her dad and Shawn so she paused on the porch to wait for them as she answered. “I’m sorry. I should have called you when I stopped for gas. Traffic was heavier than I expected and it rained all the way across Kansas so it took me longer than I expected.”

  “Well, you got here safe,” her mom consoled her. When the men had carried the luggage inside, her mom ushered her into the house behind them and asked, “Do you want something to eat?”

  Ashley stood in the foyer and looked around at the decorations and poinsettias that her mom always put there. The relief of being home overwhelmed her. She threw her arms around her Mom and hugged her close to hide the tears slipping down her cheeks.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” her mom asked, lifting Ashley’s face with firm hands and wiping away the tears.

  Ashley couldn’t stand her mom’s scrutiny or her concern right then so she said, “Nothing. I’m just so glad to be here.”

  “I’ll bet. Well, I’ve been keeping dinner warm for you, and I was just about to make some fudge.”

  Not long after 9:00 a.m. the next morning, the bright glow of sunshine finally penetrated Ashley’s closed eyelids. She tried to turn away from the window and drift back into the comfortable oblivion of sleep, but the need to go to the bathroom made that impossible. Groaning but resigned, she finally gave in and flung off the covers. Expecting to face the arctic climate of her dorm room, it surprised her to feel the warm air around her. Her eyes weren't quite able to focus yet, but the faint whir of the heater and the plush carpet beneath her feet prodded her drowsy brain into remembering where she was. The realization flooded over her that dorm life, with its cold musty air and clammy, commercial carpets, was finally over. She also realized that the yummy smell wafting around the room meant that her mom was cooking breakfast.

  She hurried to the bathroom, but didn’t bother to shower or change before going downstairs. The luxury of wearing an old T-shirt and flannel pajama pants beyond her room was a definite bonus of being home. She did consider redoing her ponytail since there were strands of hair falling out of it and flying all around her face, but she pushed them impatiently behind her ears.

  The living room was deserted, but there was a fire burning in the fireplace. As she crossed through the living room and foyer to the kitchen, she could hear the busy sounds of her mom loading the dishwasher. The kitchen faced east like her bedroom did, so she had to squint her still bleary eyes to keep from being blinded in the sunny room. As she gingerly tried to open them all the way, her mom said, “Good morning, honey. Would you like some French toast?”

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  Her mom laughed and turned to put a few slices of egg sodden bread on a griddle. Ashley couldn’t help but smile as she watched her mom with her softly rounded figure and graying hair cheerfully fixing breakfast, even though it was clear she’d already made it for the rest of the family earlier. Nothing made her mom happier than nurturing someone, and Ashley was happy to be nurtured.

  She sat with a leg tucked under her on one of the tall kitchen stools at the counter, the other leg gently swinging in unconscious rhythm with the ticking of the kitchen clock. She glanced around at the familiar knickknacks and blue gingham curtains. It felt good to be settling in again indefinitely. She hadn’t paid much attention to the comforts of home at Thanksgiving, being much too distracted by… “Darn,” she said out loud before she realized it. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that?

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh, nothing, Mom. Don’t worry about it. Just a stray thought.”

  Her mom looked like she would have liked to dig to the bottom of it, but she shrugged and changed the subject. She began talking about when Ashley’s oldest brother, Keith, was due to arrive with his family, and everything that needed to be done before they arrived. Ashley welcomed the turn of conversation because the last thing she wanted to do was talk about what was wrong with her.

  When her breakfast was put down in front of her, she slathered it with butter and syrup, repressing her guilt over the calories, and dug in.

  “Take it easy honey, it isn’t going anywhere,” her mom teased her.

  “It’s so good. You have no idea. I’ve been living off energy bars and vitamin water for too long.”

  “Well why in the world didn’t you eat a better breakfast than that?”

  “Oh that wasn’t just breakfast. It was almost every meal. I didn’t have time for much more with all my projects and tests, and it was better than fast food and candy bars.”

  “No wonder you’re looking so thin.”

  “Don’t talk like it’s a bad thing, Mom. And don’t go trying to fatten me up either. The last thing I need right now is too gain all that weight back.”

  Ashley saw her mom’s expression and knew exactly what she was thinking. Their conversation teetered on the verge of one they’d had a hundred times. She knew that her mom thought that her obsession over her weight was ridiculous, but Ashley couldn’t relax about it.

  She had always been self-conscious around her stick figure friends because nature had cursed her with more than her fair share of curves. She was actually pretty pleased with the way she looked at the moment, but she would probably always be curvier than she wanted. Why couldn’t she have been born in the days when her type of figure would have been in style? Ah, this was the same pointless discussion she’d had with herself since she was sixteen.

  She concentrated on her breakfast, promising herself to eat better after this one indulgence, but paused a moment to look up at her Mom. “Let’s not do much today, Mom. After the last few weeks, it would be wonderful to be lazy all day.”

  “You’re just burned out from school. Give it some time and you’ll be as full of plans as ever.”

  “I doubt it. I’ve got to figure out what to do with my life, but I can’t seem to make any decisions. To be honest, I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Then don’t. Things have a way of sorting themselves out.”

  Ashley shrugged and looked down at her plate as she stirred streams of syrup and melted butter into swirling patterns with her fork. She’d heard her mom say that many times before, but it seemed unlikely that her future would roll out before her like a red carpet leading to happiness.

  “Sometimes I wish I was still a little girl. Growing up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Ashley said, almost to herself.

  “It’s got its benefits too, don’t forget.”

  “Like what, for example?”

  “Like being a wife and mother.”

  Ouch. And just like that, her mom got to the crux of the matter. “Do you think I don’t want that Mom? I do, more than anything. I had expected to meet the man of my dreams and be married by now. All my friends are, but I guess I’m not the kind of girl that guys go for.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You aren’t still upset over Derek are you?”

  “No, not over him particularly. I’m just bummed because it’s starting to look like I’ll never find the right guy for me, you know?”

  She looked up and saw her mom glance anxiously at the clock. “Are you late for something, Mom? Don’t worry about me. I’ll wash these dishes and straighten up for you.”

  “No, no. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t you think you should go and get dressed for the day?”

  “I will eventually.” Ashley saw her mom reaching for her dishes so she quickly gathered them herself and went to the sink.

  “Let me get those,” her mom objected. “Run on upstairs and shower. It will cheer you up.”

  “Cheer me up? Honestly, mom, I’m fine. I’m happier this morning than I’ve been for a while.”

  “But…”

  “And I’ve got all day remember? I might not even get dressed at all.” Ashley took her dishes over to the sink. The dishwasher was running, but
her mom had hot dishwater in the sink so she plunged her plate and fork into the foamy suds. Puffs of white bubbles flew in all directions, and she swished the dishrag over the smooth surface of her plate.

  “Who needs men anyway?” she asked her mom, returning to their conversation as she searched for her fork in the sudsy water. It wasn’t her mom who answered however.

  “Surely we’re good for something?”

  Ashley spun around as she heard the deep voice. She recognized it instantly, but her brain couldn’t make sense of it. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw who was standing in her mom’s kitchen, casually leaning over the counter, as if he belonged there. A stream of suds ran from the dishrag in her hand, down her arm, and finally off her elbow to the floor. She never even noticed it however because her whole attention was focused on Mark Ellison.

  He raised his eyebrows, but his brown eyes were twinkling merrily as if he found her surprise amusing. After a few seconds, Ashley realized that her mouth was hanging open and closed it firmly. She stood stunned while her mom greeted him as though there were nothing earth shattering happening, which she could have assured her that there was.

  “Good morning, Mark. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. I’ve been talking to Ashley and I lost track of time. Did you ring the doorbell?”

  “I ran into your husband outside and he told me to come on in.”

  “Oh, I didn't know Charles was out there. The kids aren’t here yet, but I’m sure you won’t mind waiting a little bit. Ashley just got up,” her mom pointed out.

  It was an unnecessary statement, to say the least. Ashley realized with horror that Mark was studying her from head to foot, taking in the full glory of her crumpled pajamas and bed head. She longed to sink into the floor and be hidden from his curious eyes.

  “So I see. Good morning, Ashley,” Mark said, shining the full force of his fatally attractive smile at her. She almost didn’t hear his next words because her focus was riveted on the dimples on either side of his mouth. “How was the drive?”