“He’s not back yet.”
“Ah, yes. He went to pick up the award.” Verna nodded, then winced.
Hope’s heart twisted. “You’re hurting.”
“Just a bit. Would you mind repositioning my pillow?” Verna asked. “It seems to have slipped.”
“Of course.” Hope leaned over her aunt and made the adjustment.
“Why the tears?” Verna asked in a low voice.
Too late, Hope realized that bending close to adjust the pillow had given her aunt a good view of her reddened eyes. “I’m just tired.”
Worry furrowed Verna’s brows. “What’s wrong?”
Hope averted her gaze and took several long strides toward the door. “I’ll get you some Advil.”
She’d almost reached the door when Verna’s voice sliced the air. “Not one more step, Hope Anne.”
Her aunt’s use of her middle name had her skidding to a stop. Hope turned and strove for a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“My pain isn’t in my shoulder, it’s in my heart.” Verna’s gaze softened with compassion. “Tell me what’s wrong, honey. We’ve always been able to talk about things that matter. I know John matters to you.”
Heaving a resigned sigh, Hope crossed to her aunt’s bedside. “I love John, but I don’t see how we can be together.”
Verna patted a spot on the bed. “Tell me why you feel that way.”
After grabbing a tissue, Hope sat and did as her aunt requested.
Verna listened attentively, without commenting, until Hope stopped, not knowing how to make her position any clearer.
“Did you ask John why he gave the woman twenty dollars?”
Hope shrugged. “Does the why matter?”
“Oh, dearest . . .”
She bristled at the underlying hint of reproach in the words. “Our tab was eight dollars. The service was mediocre at best.”
“Do you know how John’s mother supported the two of them after his dad took off?”
“He told me she worked a lot of part-time jobs.”
“She was primarily a waitress.” Verna’s eyes took on a distant look. “Caroline worked extremely hard to provide for her and her son.”
A tight band encircled Hope’s chest. “You think John left such a generous tip because his mother once waited tables?”
“It’s possible.”
“He should have told me,” she insisted. “He—”
Hope’s voice trailed off. He had tried to tell her. She’d just been too stubborn to listen. She recalled his words and the accusation in his eyes—You think you have all the answers, but you don’t.
Though shame flooded her, fear remained, like a pebble in her shoe she couldn’t ignore.
“I’m scared.” Her laugh held a desperate quality. “I’m terrified of staying with John and building a life with him and then regretting it. I don’t want the kind of life my parents had. I’d rather be alone. I started to make a pros and cons list while you were sleep—”
“Have you prayed?”
Hope chuckled. “I’ve prayed so much I’m sure God is sick of hearing my voice.”
“Have you tried quiet?”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“When you’re confronted with a problem, your first impulse is to make a list of pertinent factors so you can arrive at a logical solution. Correct?”
Hope nodded.
“I’m suggesting you try a different approach.” Verna met Hope’s confused gaze with a steady one of her own. “Forget the lists. Make room for God’s presence by being still. Trust in Him. He will guide you down the right path.”
Hope opened her mouth, but shut it without speaking.
“We listen and wait.” Verna’s bony hand curved around hers in a comforting gesture as they sat in the quiet, the only sound the steady tick-tick-tick of the old clock.
Hope wasn’t sure how long she sat there, listening in the silence. And it was in the silence she understood that instead of accepting all the ways she and John were so perfectly matched, instead of admiring him for being a generous, thoughtful man, she’d looked for reasons their relationship wouldn’t work.
He’d given her no reason to fear or doubt him—unless you counted a generous tip—yet she’d continued to worry. Worse yet, she’d withheld her love. She’d refused to tell him she loved him even though she did . . . totally, completely, desperately.
Hope looked at her aunt’s sweet face and thought of Verna and her Tommy. They hadn’t been given the opportunity to build a life together. She and John had that chance.
It was time to commit to her marriage, to John, and to the life they would build together. Full in. No second guesses, just faith. The rightness of the decision brought both joy and peace.
Hope continued to sit motionless in the silence until she heard Verna’s soft snore. Only then did Hope slip down the hall to her bedroom, to the small drawer in her jewelry box.
John had made her keep the ring. She’d told him she wouldn’t put it on until she knew she loved him and was ready to be his wife for eternity.
Hope slipped the band on her finger.