“Matthew cares about you, Cory. I know he does. He would do anything for you.”
“I’m scared to trust him, Kelsey. He lied to me.”
Kelsey shrugged as she considered what Cory said. “I think he was trying to protect you. That’s all. Maybe it wasn’t right, but I don’t think it was so wrong.” Kelsey leaned forward, her gaze intent. “Don’t give up on him. I know you care deeply for each other.”
They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
Kelsey got up to answer it, then turned to Cory.
“Some guy is here with a parcel for you.” Kelsey stepped aside.
A man in a uniform entered. “Cory Luciuk?” he said, glancing at his clipboard and then at her.
“That’s me.”
“Parcel delivery.” He handed Cory the clipboard indicating where to sign. Kelsey already had the parcel and had set it on her desk.
“Who is this from?” Cory asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
“It says—” the man tilted the clipboard “—Matthew. That’s all.”
Cory swallowed, her breath quickening.
He ripped a sheet off, folded it in half and handed it to her before leaving.
Kelsey picked up the parcel wrapped in brown paper and held it out to her. “Open it, girl.”
Hesitantly, she took it, wondering what it could be. It was a large box, but not heavy. She gave it a tentative shake, puzzled.
“Cory, quit this. Open it already.” Kelsey handed her a pair of scissors.
Carefully, Cory cut away the brown paper, surprised to find another layer of bright, colored wrapping paper beneath that.
“It looks too pretty to unwrap,” she said, almost breathless. It looked festive and promising.
Her heart’s rhythm changed, and for a moment, she held the box in her hands, testing its weight and surprised at how clammy her palms were. With delicate precision, she peeled the tape off, careful not to rip the shiny paper.
For a moment, she was a child, delaying the pleasure and letting anticipation linger. Then, just before she peeled back the paper, her fingers trembled to her dismay.
Other images came to mind. The same feeling of anticipation, the sense of wonder mingled with curiosity. And then, the letdown.
For a brief moment, she didn’t dare unwrap it further—she wanted to avoid the hollow drop of disappointment.
Then, as if in defiance of the memories, she shoved the paper back to reveal a box. With still-shaking fingers, she lifted the lid. Cory gasped her pleasure.
The most exquisite doll she had ever seen lay nestled in layers of tissue paper. Deep-green eyes fringed with thick eyelashes stared back from a delicate face. The doll’s lips were slightly pouted and painted a shiny red, her cheeks delicately blushed. Shiny auburn curls framed her face, held back on one side with a cluster of cream-colored, silk rosebuds.
Her dress was deep-green velvet and trimmed with the same silk roses, delicate lace and the narrowest of ribbon. She wore stockings and a pair of patent leather shoes complete with tiny buckles.
“Oh, Cory. She’s gorgeous,” Kelsey breathed. Cory heard her puzzlement.
A doll wasn’t the kind of gift a man gives a woman important to him.
“What does it mean?” Kelsey asked.
As Cory held the box, she knew exactly what Matthew was trying to say. Her heart fluttered as she thought of the implications.
“There’s something else inside,” Kelsey said.
Cory saw it, too, and pulled out the envelope. Ripping it open, she pulled out a card decorated with flowers.
Slowly, she opened the card and began to read it out loud.
“Dear Cory,” she read, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I was afraid to tell you about the will. I let you down. I’m sorry. I can’t promise to never let you down again, but I can promise to try not to. I love you.”
New tears welled up in her eyes as she read his words.
Carefully, she closed the card and slipped it back into the envelope, sniffing. Kelsey handed her a tissue, and she wiped the tears away and blew her nose.
“Why don’t you go home?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
Cory looked up at her friend. “At home, I get to listen to my mother saying she was right all along about Matthew. About men. That they are not to be trusted. It’s so hard to hear, and when I’m with her, I wonder if I’m being fooled again.”
“Then listen to me—your friend. I know you love Matthew, and I know he loves you. Let go of your mistrust and what your stepfather has done. He is just one man. Trust that maybe God wants to give you something good. You’re allowed to take things when they’re given to you. You just have to remember who the giver is.”
Cory wanted to believe her friend, and took comfort from the conviction in Kelsey’s voice. In that moment, she realized how few times in her life she had allowed herself to take. To receive.
Holding the box close to her, Cory stood.
“And maybe when you’re home,” Kelsey continued, “you might want to give that poor, suffering man a call.” Kelsey balled up the paper and shook her head. “You could ask him, from me, why a doll?”
Despite her sorrow, Cory laughed. “I’ll tell you sometime.” Then she gave Kelsey a one-armed hug. “Thanks. You’re a true friend.”
“My only concern is for you, Cory. You know that. Let yourself be happy.”
Cory thought of what Kelsey told her as she got into her car and set the doll on the seat beside her. She drove away from the restaurant and, on a whim, took a detour past the park where Matthew had met her for the first time.
She got out and walked to the picnic table where she had heard Zeke Smith was dead. That he was no longer a part of her and her mother’s lives.
How much had changed since that day, she thought, looking around.
She lowered her head into her hands and began to pray. She didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. So she simply opened her heart to God, let Him understand what she felt. Her confusion. Her fear.
I know Your love is perfect, she prayed. I know You want to give. Teach me to trust Matthew enough to take from him. Teach me to receive.
God’s love was perfect, untainted by human emotions, and she let that love heal her.,
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but this time they were tears of healing.
She let the moment cleanse her and then, standing from the picnic bench, she knew what she had to do.
Chapter Fifteen
“Is Cory there?” Matthew asked when Kelsey answered the phone.
He had just returned from Edmonton and checked in at the office. He was exhausted, but all he wanted to do was see Cory.
“She just left.” Kelsey paused a moment. “She got your package, by the way. I don’t know if this is how lawyers go courting, but where I come from, flowers is usually the way to go.”
“What did she say?”
“You made her cry, and you made her smile.”
Matthew’s heart contracted at that.
“She also said she knew what it meant.” Kelsey snorted. “Honestly, you two have the strangest courtship going.”
“Was she happy at all?”
“Matthew, that poor woman is eating her heart out for you. Only she’s scared to admit it. Why don’t you mosey on over to her house and talk to her yourself?”
“I just might do that. Thanks a lot.” He set the phone down, glancing at the clock. It was early to call it a day, but what he wanted to do rated above setting up a will for Lainie and Anthony Jesperson.
He paused, then went back to the phone. He had to know before he went.
He punched in the numbers, praying as he did. Praying that Cory would listen.
Each ring of the phone increased his own trepidation. Then finally...
“Hello.”
Strange that only one mundane word from her could create that funny breathless feeling in him.
“This is
Matthew,” he said, leaning back against the desk for support.
Silence.
“Please don’t hang up. Please let me talk to you.”
“I won’t hang up,” she whispered.
“Cory, honey. I’m sorry. Again.” He laughed a humorless laugh as he clutched the phone. “I should have told you about that other will, but I was scared.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m as human as the next guy in love, Cory. I was afraid that you would get angry.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
He smiled at that. For the first time in two days, he felt a glimmer of hope. “I should have told you.”
“It didn’t change anything, did it? Waiting to tell me.”
“It wasn’t fair. I let you hope. Every time I heard you talk about the money from the will, I felt sick. It was wrong.”
“Well, I’m over it. I should have known better.”
He paused, wondering. “Did you get my parcel?”
“Oh, Matthew, she’s so beautiful.” He heard her draw in a slow breath. “Not just because it was a present...but because I know what you were trying to say.”
“I didn’t know how else to say it. I want to give you everything that’s in my power to give you—” He stopped, surprised at the hitch in his own voice, unable to tell her what she meant to him. “I’d like to come over.”
“Please. Please come over.”
“I’ll be right there.”
He waited for her to hang up, but he could still hear her breathing. “You have to hang up,” he said.
She laughed. “I remember Deirdre doing this with her boyfriend. I always thought it was silly.”
“It is,” he agreed.
“Then you hang up first. Otherwise, you can’t come over.”
This time, he laughed. With a deep, slow sigh, he laid the phone in its cradle, sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks, and pushed away from his desk.
He caught his coat from the back of the chair and slipped it on, tightened the knot on his tie, ran a hand over his usually unruly hair. Sending up another prayer, he stepped out of the office.
“I’m gone for the afternoon,” he told his secretary.
Even though he had just got back half an hour ago, she gave an understanding nod and added a cheeky grin. As if she knew exactly what was going on.
Life in a small town, he thought, but at the same time tried to imagine himself doing this at his father’s office: “Billable hours, son. It’s all about billable hours.”
No Dad, it isn’t, he thought as he got into his car and drove to the house of the woman he loved.
As he left, Matthew’s heart pounded. Though he had opened himself up to Cory, he couldn’t help feeling uncertain, unsure of how he would be greeted by Cory and her mother.
“What is the matter with you, Cory?” Joyce asked as she came into the living room and saw Cory’s flushed face.
“Matthew’s coming,” Cory called out just before she ducked into the bedroom. Running to her closet, she riffled through the clothes. What should she wear? Not enough time to think about that, she had to get her hair decent.
She ran across the hallway to the bathroom, pulled out her curling iron, and plugged it in.
“Goodness, girl, what’s gotten into you? I thought you weren’t seeing him anymore.”
Joyce stood in the doorway of the bathroom, frowning as Cory pulled out hairbrushes, some hair spray, and her meager supply of makeup.
Cory looked up at her mother, aware of her disapproval. She stopped.
“I really care for him, Mother.”
“Even after what he did?” Joyce’s voice rang with disapproval.
“He didn’t really do anything, now did he? It was Zeke who did everything.” As she spoke, it was as if everything about her and Matthew’s past and present realigned itself in her mind, in her life. “Even when they defended him, it was Zeke who chased us, who hounded you for visits. It was Zeke who did it all.”
“They didn’t have to help.”
“If they didn’t do it, someone else would have. Who knows where we might have been then?” Cory pulled the elastic from her hair and began vigorously brushing her hair, anticipation and excitement making her awkward.
Joyce pursed her lips in reproach, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. “So now he’ll come here and sweep you off your feet and you’ll leave.”
Cory stopped what she was doing. Then, as realization dawned, she dropped her brush on the counter and took her mother in her arms. “Mom, please don’t think that. I haven’t left you. I wouldn’t leave you now.”
Joyce held herself rigid, looking straight ahead.
Cory rubbed her mother’s shoulders, her arms, as if trying to convince her with actions as well. “Mom, everything I’ve ever done has been for you. All the work, the decisions—everything. Today, I want to think about me. Me and Matthew.” It sounded selfish, but she knew she had to be firm. “He means so much to me.”
“You can say that? After not telling you the truth about that other will? Letting you keep thinking Zeke was trying to make things right?”
Cory shook her head. “I want to talk to him about that, but I think he did that because he was afraid.” She was aware that she perfectly echoed Kelsey’s words. “Not telling me about that second will didn’t change anything.”
“He was the one who thought you should take what Zeke was offering. Even though you didn’t trust it. He let you hope.”
“Matthew didn’t know about Zeke. Didn’t know what he was really like. He knows now.”
“Just because you told him?” Joyce pulled back from her daughter, her expression pleading. “Please don’t fall for the same thing I did, Cory. Don’t let a man hurt you like Zeke hurt me. I know what love can do to a person. How it can blind you and make you unaware of anything else.”
“Matthew told me he loves me, Mom.” Cory smiled at the memory. “Right now, I have to trust him. Because that’s what love is about—taking chances.”
Joyce sniffed lightly. Blinking, she faced her daughter, as if recognizing that she wasn’t swaying her. “Then you’ll have to take them on your own,” she said as she turned and left the room.
A support had been pulled away from Cory. It would have been so much easier to see Matthew, knowing that her mother accepted her choice.
She looked in the mirror and quickly brushed her hair. She was ready, she thought, and went to the living room.
Twenty minutes later, she looked out the window. Surely Matthew should have been here by now? She walked to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. The sharp peal of the doorbell made Cory jump.
“I’ll get it,” she called out, fairly flying down the hallway. She swung around the door frame into the living room and skidded to a halt just before the front entrance. Taking a calming breath, fingers fluttering over her hair, she stepped into the entrance and opened the door.
Matthew stood framed in the opening, smiling a bemused smile and holding a bouquet of flowers. “Hi, there,” he said.
She felt as if she had to swallow to breathe. His voice, his face. So familiar to her. So dear. He had come.
“Hi, yourself,” she breathed, holding on to the edge of the door for support.
“I missed you.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her, then lowered it. “Can I come in?”
She hesitated, thinking about her mother, but stifled that reaction. Matthew was here. He cared for her. Her mother would have to accept that.
“Is Joyce home? I’d like to talk to her, too.”
Cory nodded, swallowing down a knot of concern as she stepped aside for him. As they walked into the kitchen, Cory’s mind raced: What would her mother say to him? How would she react?
As if her thoughts had conjured her up, her mother entered the kitchen.
“Hello, Matthew,” she said, voice cool and aloof. For a moment, Cory saw the Joyce that Matthew and Clifton had faced a number of times across the courtroom.
> “Hello, Mrs. Luciuk,” he said. He handed her the flowers. For a moment, Cory thought her mother wouldn’t take them, but finally, she reached for them.
“Thank you, and thank you for using my previous married name,” she said, her tone prim. She set the flowers aside, and then sat on a nearby chair. “I heard that the will you promised us was legitimate is false,” Joyce said.
Cory inwardly groaned. Trust her mother to get to the point.
“It was an honest mistake,” Matthew said, slipping his hands in the back pockets of his blue jeans.
“Do lawyers make honest mistakes?” Joyce returned.
“I fully understand why you’re upset,” Matthew said, sliding a quick glance Cory’s way. “It came as a shock to me and my father as well, considering we were the ones to draw up Zeke’s original will. I promise you that we are contesting it.”
Joyce held up a hand. “You don’t need to on my account. But if Cory is willing for you to take care of it...” her voice trailed off, and Cory could see, in spite of her bluster, that she was tired.
“I’ll do whatever I can for Cory,” Matthew said.
The conviction in his voice warmed Cory’s heart and eased her concerns. No matter what her mother may think, she was positive Matthew would do what he said.
Then he turned to her and took her hand, smiling at her. “She means the world to me.”
A moment of silence followed this declaration, and Cory didn’t know what to say. So she clung to his hand, returning his smile with her heart full.
“Before I talk to her myself,” Matthew said, drawing her close as he turned back to Joyce, “I want to ask for your blessing. I’m going to ask Cory to marry me.”
Joyce’s eyes narrowed, and Cory sent up a quick prayer. Please, Lord, don’t let my mother mess this up.
“Is this what you want, Cory?” was all her mother asked.
“You know how I feel about Matthew,” Cory returned, her voice sure. “I hope he knows how I feel about him,” she said, her smile broadening as she caught Matthew’s bright gaze.
“I hope you can trust him,” was all Joyce said.
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