The Color of Hope

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX





We’ve been here before.

That was Libby’s first thought as she and Travis lowered themselves into the swing on the back porch. Nearly a year ago, when they’d gotten back in touch after more than a decade, they’d hashed out past grievances in this very spot.

The swing swayed slowly back and forth as they stared in different directions. It was still light out, but cloudy and semi-cool, the intermittent rain having ushered in a slight breeze.

Hunched over, forearms on his thighs, Travis glanced at her. “Why didn’t you tell me about the change in your life? Before now, that is.”

She stared at the slats on the porch. “It was personal for me. I was on a journey, reading the Bible, studying other resources . . . I didn’t want any interference.”

He looked away, out into the yard. “Interference . . . that’s what I would’ve been?” He turned back to her. “We talked about this, Libby, at the reunion. Talked about committing your life to Jesus, but at the time you weren’t ready. I told you I’d be praying for you, and I have. Then you have this big spiritual awakening”—he gestured with his hands—“and I get to find out weeks later in a group announcement?”

“Is something wrong with that?”

Travis raised himself slightly. “If you want to know the truth, I’m a little hurt by it. I thought we had something more special than that.”

“Why?” Libby gave him a bewildered look. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t be friends. Why would you think I owed you anything?”

“And why did I say we shouldn’t be friends? It was because I had feelings for you I couldn’t act on because you weren’t walking with the Lord. Then you start walking with the Lord . . .” He looked away, frustrated. “A phone call would’ve been nice.”

“Every time I see you, you look rather happy with Trina,” Libby said. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of that.”

He looked back at her. “Now Trina’s the excuse?”

“Trina’s the reality.”

He got up, sending the swing out of rhythm. Walking to the edge of the porch, he sighed and looked up into the clouds. After a long moment, he said, “I’m sorry.”

He turned around. “I made this about me. Instead of focusing on why you didn’t tell me, I should’ve been rejoicing with you.” He leaned against the porch rail. “Like I said, I’ve been praying, and I thank God that He drew you that way. The little you described is awesome. I love that you dug in the way you did. It’s like . . . you discovered the treasure.”

“That’s exactly what it was like,” Libby said. “I grew up hearing Bible verses, but suddenly they came alive to me, and they were like treasures.” Her eyes brightened. “I remember reading in the gospel of John—and I can’t remember exactly how it’s said—but it was about becoming a child of God, and it said being born, not of blood . . .” She stared off, trying to remember.

“Or of the will of the flesh,” Travis said, “or of the will of man . . .”

Libby finished it. “But of God.” She said it with awe. “How many times have I heard that? But that time, I was, like, wow . . . that’s what being born again is all about. When God does it. Then all these other verses about being ‘recreated’ came at me—like the verses in I John about being born of God.” Libby stopped. “I could go on and on. It was so good.”

Travis was staring at her. “I’m standing here thinking that all these years I’ve known you, we’ve never once had a conversation like this.”

Libby reflected on that. “I told Aunt Gwynn that my heart had been broken from the one relationship that was meaningful to me. But as I think about it, it’s like you said. We weren’t having conversations like this. So I wonder what I thought was so meaningful about it.”

“I don’t think it’s so hard to figure out.” He joined her again on the swing. “There was always a spark between us—sometimes nearing explosion—and also a deep affection and caring. It wasn’t grounded in the right things, true. But the special connection has always been there.”

She didn’t know if she wanted to know, but she had to ask. “You think . . . still?”

“I know still.”

“But like I said, Trina is your reality now, and—”

“Libby, look around. Do you see Trina?”

He paused for her answer, but she only looked down.

“I actually invited her here today.”

Curious, Libby turned back toward him.

“Janelle invited me to dinner after church. Trina was also at church, and they’re friends, so Janelle said I could feel free to invite her too. And I did, but she said no.”

“Why?”

“She said she saw the dynamic last week when you were leaving and everyone but me went to greet you. She said that wasn’t like me, and that I wasn’t myself afterward—just like after we saw you at Mama Jay’s.” He paused. “I was really sorry about that, by the way.”

Libby simply let him continue.

“So she asked me pointedly if there was romantic history between us, which opened up a long conversation that ended with her saying I didn’t feel the same connection with her that she felt for me.” He hesitated, looking at nothing in particular. “She said I still had feelings for you.”

“What did you say?”

“I couldn’t say anything. I knew she was right. But I thought to myself, Great. I’ll never have a serious relationship if I can’t get over these feelings I have for a woman I can’t be with.”

“It makes sense to me now,” Libby said. “We were in two different worlds. I was still in darkness. You were in the light.” The magnitude of it all struck her. “I understand why you couldn’t be with me.”

Travis stared at her for long seconds. “But that’s not the case anymore.”

Libby felt his words deep in her heart, and at the same time, her mind was poised to reject them.

“Travis, I’m not the woman you deserve. You changed right after college, but I’ve had another ten years of living in ways that . . . well, weren’t pleasing to God. You need a woman who’s—”

“What, perfect?” he said. “She doesn’t exist. And if she did, she wouldn’t want me because I’m not perfect. What matters is we’ve both been changed by the grace of God.” His gaze penetrated. “You are more than I deserve. Just the thought that God would give me the one person I’ve been crazy about my entire life.”

“Really?”

“Are you kidding? I was crazy about you when we were running around in this very backyard, and you were telling me to stop bugging you.”

“Yeah, literally.” Libby laughed faintly. “Chasing me with those stupid worms.”

He took her hand. “Come here.”

“Where are we going?”

He led her down the steps and into the yard.

“But the grass is wet, Travis.”

“You’ll live.”

They walked beyond the main backyard over to a clearing and stopped at the water tower.

“Remember this?” he said.

Her mind traveled back in time. “That night you found me during hide-and-seek, and per the rules—rules you boys had changed up—the one seeking could pick one person they found and kiss them.”

“And I picked you. But you would only let me kiss you on your hand. Like this.” He was holding her hand still and lifted it, kissing the back.

Goose bumps danced up Libby’s arm. “I’m pretty sure it didn’t give me that feeling, though.”

“You don’t think so?” He kissed the inside of her hand.

“No. I’m certain.”

He put his arms around her and brought her close, gazing into her eyes. “I’m just wondering if you have that same aversion to a real kiss right now.”

She could feel his heart beating against hers. “It’s not like we’ve never had a real kiss.”

“But like our conversation, I think this will be more meaningful too.”

His lips brushed hers, and as the kiss deepened, she knew it was true. This kiss was more meaningful than any they’d had—because it was much more than a kiss. For the first time, she sensed hope and promise between them. She didn’t know where it would lead, nor did she fear where it would lead. Another first . . . she would trust God with the outcome.