The Color of Hope

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Saturday, September 25





Libby had on her event-planning hat, taking notes at her client’s kitchen table. “Intimate setting . . . festive yet elegant . . . evening time frame . . .” She looked up. “How many people?”

Janelle did a slow shrug. “That’s where we’re stuck.”

Libby set down her pen. “The number affects size and type of venue, as well as other aspects. You brought me all the way out here, and you have no idea how many you’re inviting?”

“All the way out here?” Janelle said. “Driving forty minutes to see family is a big inconvenience for you now? Wow.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Libby said. “But I came because you asked me to help plan your wedding—” She stopped. “That’s why you asked, isn’t it? Not just because I haven’t been here in a while.” Libby looked at her. “You’re not even ready to plan your wedding.”

“You’re right,” Janelle said. “You haven’t been here in more than a month, and I was concerned. I knew you’d come if I asked for help with wedding plans. But you’re wrong on the last count—I am ready to plan, if i can figure out the number.”

“Okay.” Libby picked up her pen again. “What do you two envision in your heart of hearts?”

“What we envisioned at first was small, just Kory and me and the kids.”

“Why not go with that?”

“I tossed it out there, but I got all kinds of grief from family.” She sighed. “So we decided we should invite more family. How much more is the question.”

The pen went down again. “Jan, I know they mean well. I’d love to celebrate with you too. But this is a second marriage for you both, and you should give yourself permission to start it off the way you want to. Don’t make plans based on what other people say.”

“That’s good advice.” Janelle gave an apologetic shrug. “But now I do feel like I wasted your time, because I should share this with Kory and see if he wants to revisit the ‘just us’ ceremony idea.”

“No problem.” Libby got up. “Just let me know when you’re ready to move forward.” She rummaged in her purse for the car keys.

“You’re leaving?”

She heard a jingle and pulled them out. “Yeah, I’m heading back.”

“But you know everybody will want to see you. They should be back shortly.”

Libby hadn’t told her, but the fact that they were all at an away football game had played a factor in her deciding to come. She had planned all along to be gone before they returned. She looped her purse on her shoulder. “Just tell them I missed them, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Libby . . .” Janelle’s eyes showed concern. “Why don’t you want to spend time with us? What’s going on? You must be seeing someone.”

Libby shook her head. “I haven’t gone this long without seeing anyone in a long time.”

“Work keeping you busy?”

Libby shrugged. “Had an event last night, but no busier than usual.”

“Is it me, then? Did I do something?”

The question stopped Libby. She had distanced herself on purpose, but she didn’t want Janelle to think she was somehow to blame.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” She sat back down. “I’m just”—she searched for the right word—“driven right now. It’s hard to explain. I’m working through some things, and to be honest, if I’m in Hope Springs it gets complicated. So . . .”

Janelle stared at her. “That totally made no sense to me. Working through what things?”

Libby hesitated. “Working through . . . the Bible.”

Her cousin’s entire countenance changed. “Are you serious? That’s awesome, Libby. How did that happen?”

“See, that’s why Hope Springs makes it complicated—one of the reasons, anyway. I don’t need you asking a bunch of questions or assuming it means this or that. This is personal for me.”

“So . . . I can’t even know how it happened?”

Libby wasn’t sure she wanted to say, but she’d started in now. “Kinda began on a weekend I spent with Aunt Gwynn, Keisha, and Aunt Floretta.”

“What?” Janelle looked as if she couldn’t find the words. “You planned a trip to New Jersey and didn’t tell me? You spent time with Aunt Gwynn . . . and didn’t tell me? When was this?”

“Over a month ago,” Libby said. “It was spontaneous, and surreal. The entire weekend, the conversation, the meals, even little impromptu things seemed meant for me, at just the right time.” She caught herself. “I know I’m not making sense again.”

“Actually, now you’re making perfect sense. It was God.”

“I can’t quibble with that.” Libby rose from her seat again. “But on that note—before you ask more questions—I’ve got to go.” She headed for the door.

Janelle followed. “I won’t ask anything right now. But I’m really excited for you. I can tell you’re in a different place.”

They walked together to Libby’s car as a caravan of cars came toward them. Stephanie and Lindell parked first, followed by Todd, Becca, and their kids. Kory had apparently driven Dee, Tiffany, and Daniel. And parking next to them was Marcus, with Charley, Travis—and Trina. Everyone in the crew had on Hope Springs Tigers shirts or at least royal blue and gold.

Stephanie came toward her. “Libby’s in Hope Springs? And trying to sneak off before we got back? What’s up?” She hugged her.

“I was here on business.” Sounded nice and official. “Helping Janelle with wedding plans. But I couldn’t stay long.”

“Hey, stranger.” Becca gave her a warm hug. “We’ve had a change of season since you were here last.”

“I know. I’m terrible.”

Trina came over next, chatting it up in her Hope Springs football shirt. Did Travis get that for her?

Libby gave a quick glance in his direction. He was the only one who hadn’t joined them. Looked like he was searching for something in the car. More like stalling.

“I’d better be going,” Libby said.

“You should stay,” Todd said. “We’re about to put some hot dogs and burgers on the grill.”

Libby felt strangely out of place. Is this what things were like now? Trina was a regular part of the circle?

“Thanks, Todd,” she said, “but I can’t.” She smiled. “Maybe next time.”

A quick round of good-byes ensued, and the crew moved inside both houses.

Janelle lagged behind. “He thinks it’s better this way,” she said, “if he gives you your space.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for Travis.” Libby opened her door and got in. “He didn’t speak. So what.”

Janelle leaned into the car. “Have you thought of telling him about this journey you’re on?”

She frowned. “No. Why would I? I don’t keep him apprised of my life.”

“But I know he prays for you,” Janelle said. “I really think he’d want to know.”

“That’s funny. His actions just showed the exact opposite.” Libby started the car. “I’m not telling him where I am, and I don’t want you to either.”

Janelle didn’t move.

“Yes?” Libby said.

“I’m praying.”

Any other time, Libby would’ve tossed the comment away as cliché. But in this moment, it meant something to her. “Thank you,” she said.

Libby drove away, trying not to wrestle with the image of Travis and Trina. Why should she? They were a couple. And given Travis’s age and desire to marry, they likely had a clear trajectory.

She played it out in her mind . . . Travis married. Travis in his boyhood home with a wife. Travis at New Jerusalem with a first lady. The Travis she’d known for more than thirty years, with whom she’d always had a special connection in one way or another . . . committed to someone else.