The Forgiving Hour

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “She’s a Christian, of course. We’ve been attending the singles’ class together at church.” He leaned back in his chair. “But not for long. We’ll have to start going to the class for married couples after July fourth. That’s the date we’ve picked for the wedding. We had to wait for you to get back from Seattle but didn’t want to put it off too long after that.”

  Claire couldn’t think of what to say. She was confused and disturbed, and it was more than because it had happened so fast. What was wrong?

  I’m jealous of her!

  The realization horrified Claire. But she knew it was true. She was jealous. Not because Dakota loved Sara. Not because he wanted to marry the girl. No, she was jealous because Sara was a believer, and now Claire would miss all those deep biblical discussions with Dakota that she’d been anticipating. He would be sharing all that with his bride instead.

  Which was as it should be.

  “Mom? I thought you’d be glad for me.”

  Father, forgive me.

  She rose from her chair and went to give him a hug. “I am glad for you. Really I am. You just caught me by surprise. If you love this girl, I know I will, too, just like you said.”

  Sara was in bed when the phone rang. She knew it would be Dakota, and she answered it quickly.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he said in a voice that sent chills right up her back. “Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

  “It’s okay. I knew you’d call as soon as you were able.” She nestled down into her pillow and closed her eyes, envisioning him in her mind. “How was the drive?”

  “Uneventful.”

  “The best kind. How’s your mother?”

  “Great. I told her all about you. You know, that you’re pretty and smart and sweet and perfect and —”

  “And older?”

  “Yep, told her you’re almost ready for a walker, you’re so old. She can’t wait to meet you. She’s thinking the two of you might take some sort of geriatric aerobic class together.”

  “Very funny, Conway.” She chuckled, loving his teasing, loving the tenderness in his voice.

  “I showed her that photo of us with the church youth group when we took them sledding, but you’re half hidden behind the McGrath kid. Guess we need to get some good pictures taken of us.”

  “And what did she think about our rush to the altar?”

  “She thinks it’s great as long as we love each other.”

  Sara wondered if that was true. How would she feel if she were in his mother’s place? She wasn’t sure.

  “Mom says she’ll be back home by May, so July’s no problem at all. Think you could order the wedding invitations tomorrow on your lunch hour?”

  “The white and purple ones?”

  “Those were my favorites, but you get whatever you like best.”

  “They’re my favorites too. That’s what I’ll order.”

  “Hey, there’s something I didn’t tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  His voice deepened. “I love you.”

  “Mmm.” She shivered with pleasure. “I love you too.”

  “Wish you were here.”

  “Me too.”

  “Bet you could still catch a flight up. We could wait for the weekend to go over to Victoria. How about it?”

  “I can’t get away, Dakota. You know that.”

  Soft laughter came across the telephone wire. “Yeah, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “It’s nice to be wanted. I’m glad you keep trying.” She sighed in contentment.

  “You sound tired. I’d better let you get some sleep.”

  She was reluctant to say good night, but he was right. She was tired, and it was late.

  “Dream about me?” he suggested.

  “Probably.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow night from Victoria.”

  “I’ll be here.” Waiting, just as I was tonight. “I miss you.”

  “Me too.”

  “Night.”

  “Night.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  “You too.”

  Silence, then, “We don’t seem to be hanging up.”

  She laughed. “I noticed.”

  “I didn’t know I’d miss you this much.”

  “I didn’t know Seattle would seem so far away.”

  “Are you sure you can’t —”

  “Dakota, don’t ask again.”

  He sighed. “Okay, I won’t. I love you.”

  “And I, you.”

  “You know what, sweetheart?”

  “We sound like bad movie dialogue?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

  “Say good night, Dakota.”

  “Good night. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Good night.” Reluctantly, she placed the receiver in its cradle, breaking the connection.

  Still smiling, warmed by the memory of the sound of his voice, she rolled to her side.

  Thank You, Lord. I know I don’t deserve him, but I’m so grateful You brought us together.

  Dakota and Claire celebrated her forty-second birthday in Victoria, British Columbia, with high tea at the Empress Hotel. On Friday they visited Butchart Gardens where the azaleas, tulips, and daffodils were a visual springtime delight. They spent hours and hours on Saturday poking around the Royal British Columbia Museum. And they talked and talked and talked. About all sorts of things, but mostly about Sara — or so it seemed to Claire.

  On Sunday they returned to Seattle where they attended an evening church service; the experience of sitting beside her son and worshiping God in song and prayer was every bit as special as she’d known it would be. It was also a bittersweet experience, because she was aware of the many years she’d missed doing this very thing.

  Monday morning arrived before she was ready for it.

  As she watched Dakota toss his duffel bag into the back of the Jeep, she realized anew that she would never again be as important in her son’s life. Soon he would be a husband. Eventually, he would be a father. These were all good things. All part of the natural order of life.

  Knowing that didn’t help much.

  Dakota turned around. “I had a great time, Mom.” He embraced her, hugging tightly.

  “So did I.” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ll be home in six weeks. Less if we’re lucky.”

  “I know.” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “Tell Sara that I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “I will.”

  “Dakota …”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “I’m terribly proud of you.”

  “Ditto.”

  “I wish …” Again she let her voice trail into silence.

  He seemed to understand. “Yeah.” He kissed her again, this time on the cheek. “I know.”

  Oh, this was silly. She’d never had any patience with clingy mothers who didn’t know when to release their children.

  She patted his shoulder, returned his kiss, and then took a step backward. “You’d better get going. You have a long drive ahead of you. Call me when you get to Boise.”

  “I will.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I love you, Mom.”

  She stepped onto the sidewalk and watched as he started his Jeep, backed out of the parking space and, with a wave, drove away. Even after he’d disappeared from view, she remained standing there, feeling that wretched sense of loss.

  Feeling old.

  I’m not old, she silently argued as she headed for her condo. Forty-two isn’t old. Women are still having babies at my age, for crying out loud. I’m not old.

  But she wasn’t young either. She wasn’t in that first blush of youth when the world lay before her, filled with possibilities. She could hardly remember what it was like to be in love with someone the way Dakota was
in love with his Sara.

  She thought of Kevin. What would it be like to fall in love with him? To be loved by him?

  God, why does everything have to be so confusing? My feelings are all mixed up. I don’t know which way to turn.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “So how was your visit with Dakota?” Kevin asked when he saw Claire in the office the next morning. He almost added that he’d missed her while she was in Victoria but knew he mustn’t, even though she’d been on his mind constantly. The time just wasn’t right.

  “Wonderful, but too brief.” She clicked the Save icon with her computer mouse, then turned to look at him. “He’s engaged to be married.”

  “Were you expecting this?”

  “No, I wasn’t. He met the young woman after I left Boise. He never said a word about her when we talked by phone. I suppose he was afraid I’d think he was rushing headlong into something.” She shrugged. “I guess I do. At least a little.” Softly, she continued, “He seems to be very much in love, and Dakota isn’t the reckless, impetuous sort. Sometimes I’ve even thought he was too levelheaded for his own good.”

  Kevin stepped into her office. On this floor of the building it was the only finished room, and it was complete with carpet, window coverings, and framed prints. It was furnished with a bookcase and filing cabinets, desk and computer, and everything else Claire needed to do her job. Personal touches — a photo of Dakota and a chubby angel figurine — added warmth to the room.

  Kevin sat down on a chair opposite her, as he’d done often in the past weeks. “What are you feeling right now?”

  “Lonely,” she answered with absolute frankness. “I feel lonely.”

  “That’s understandable.” He wished he could take her in his arms and offer comfort. But he knew he couldn’t do that either.

  “Is it?” she asked.

  “I think so. I’ve seen my nieces and nephews grow up, move out, get married, and start families. And I’ve seen what it was like for their parents. They’ve invested so much of themselves for so many years, trying to raise decent kids who’ll become decent, independent adults. And all of a sudden, that’s what they are. Independent adults. I’m sure I’d feel lonely in your shoes too.”

  She looked away from him, toward the window. He could tell she was lost somewhere in the past, and he let her be.

  Jesus, isn’t it possible for us to be together now? She needs me.

  In its time, beloved.

  Alone. Claire didn’t want to feel alone.

  But when she looked at Kevin again, she found herself asking something she hadn’t meant to. “Have you ever wanted to get married again?”

  He answered without hesitation. “Yes, I’ve thought I would. I’ve been waiting for the right woman and for the right time.”

  Waiting for the right woman … Obviously, he thought he hadn’t met her yet.

  She looked at her computer screen, smarting from his answer and not wanting his all-too-observant eyes to notice.

  “Claire?”

  She bit the inside of her lip, trying her best not to make a fool of herself.

  “Look at me.”

  She didn’t want to, but she did.

  “God has made everything appropriate in its time.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He looked at her with patience and tenderness. “I’m talking about you. And me. I’m talking about us.”

  Her chest tightened. Us? Her breathing grew shallow. “What about us?”

  “I wouldn’t be honest if I pretended I didn’t care for you. I do care.”

  What do you mean, care?

  “I’m not oblivious to what’s been happening between us. I think there’s a chance for more than friendship. Much more. And I think you feel it too.”

  She couldn’t believe it. Was he really saying this?

  “I’ve been praying about us, seeking God’s will, and I think I finally understand what He’s telling me.” Kevin paused, his gaze thoughtful, his expression compassionate. Finally, in a soft voice, he continued, “This isn’t the time for us. Not yet.”

  The wind went out of her sails.

  “He wants us to wait.”

  “Wait for what, Kevin?”

  “It isn’t our season.”

  He was rejecting her, and he was blaming it on God. How like a man!

  “There’s something you have to do in Boise. I don’t know what it is, but it’s important. It’s something you have to deal with before your heart will truly be ready to love again.”

  He was giving her the brush-off, telling her to go home, and he was using God as an excuse.

  Angry, wounded, agitated, she rose from her chair and went to the window. “Who said anything about love? Unlike my son, I’m not the type to fall for someone in a matter of weeks. I’ve never wanted anything more from you than friendship.”

  “I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  “It takes more than something like this to hurt me. I can assure you of that.”

  “Claire?” He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Surprised that she hadn’t heard his approach, she turned. The way he looked at her was nearly her undoing. She didn’t want his pity.

  “Hear me out. Please.”

  She didn’t want to listen. She wanted him to leave her alone. “I can’t imagine what more there is for you to say.”

  “Have you ever watched an artist painting a landscape in oils? While he’s working, while you’re standing up close to the canvas, it doesn’t look like much at all. Just splashes of color that don’t have much purpose or connection with reality. But when he’s finished, when he adds those last brush strokes, and we step back to look, we can see what he had in mind all the time. And it’s beautiful.”

  “What has that to do with our … friendship?”

  “I’m telling you God has a plan for our lives, and when He’s done with this particular landscape, it’s going to be wonderful and perfect. “We’ll be able to see His hand in all of it. He’s creating something beautiful between us. I believe it with all my heart. Be willing to wait, Claire.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Please wait,” he whispered, his breath warm on her skin. Then he turned and walked out of the office.

  She spun toward the window, fighting tears, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, wanting to escape the crushed feeling in her chest.

  I’ve been waiting all my life. Why do I have to wait some more? Why do You want me to be alone, God? Why?

  The night after he returned to Boise, Dakota took Sara out to dinner. They ate at his favorite Italian restaurant, but he wouldn’t remember later what he’d ordered or how the food tasted. He was too busy staring at her, drinking in every little detail of her — the dazzle of her smile, the sound of her laughter, the glitter of joy in her eyes, the perfection of her mouth, the gleam of candlelight reflected in her glorious hair. He hadn’t expected to miss her so much. It was only a week since he’d seen her, but it felt more like a year.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her, for about the fifteenth time.

  She laughed, then said, “So are you.”

  “No, I mean it. I’ve never known anyone as beautiful as you are.”

  “Except you. You’re more beautiful.” She laid a hand over her heart. “Especially in here.”

  “What I am is blessed.” He leaned forward. “Did you order those wedding invitations yet?”

  “Yes. Why? Did you change your mind about the color or verse?”

  “Neither of those. I was thinking we should move the date up.”

  “To when?”

  “Next week be too soon? We could drive down to Winnemucca and be married in a matter of hours.”

  Her laughter was as beautiful as she was.

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “I take it that’s a no.”

  Still smiling, Sara took hold of his hand. “Mr. Conway, since this is the only wedding either one of us is going to have, I want to do it right. No rushing, no mat
ter how eager the bride and groom. The full church wedding with all the trimmings.”

  It’s what he wanted too. Still …

  “You wouldn’t believe how many things there are to do before we’ll be ready. Besides, my mom would kill me if I deprived her of fussing over each and every detail. Trust me, I know. She’s in seventh heaven right now.”

  “I don’t guess my mom would be too thrilled either if we just up and eloped.” He shrugged. “But it would be sort of romantic, wouldn’t it?”

  She lowered her voice. “Yes, it would. Everything you do is romantic. You always make me feel special.”

  “It’s only because you are special. I thank God every night for bringing you into my life.” He squeezed her hand.

  “It is rather like a miracle, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. A miracle.”

  They sat in silence for a long while, oblivious to the crowded restaurant sounds all around them, both of them recalling the moment they’d met.

  Some would have called that day in the airport merely a coincidence. Just a chance meeting.

  Dakota and Sara knew better.

  Submit therefore to God.

  Claire removed her reading glasses and dropped them on top of her Bible. She covered her face with her hands while resting her elbows on the table.

  Submit therefore to God.

  She felt as if He was trying to tell her something in this verse, but she didn’t know what. Everything was confused and jumbled.

  “I don’t understand, Lord.”

  And those who know My name will put their trust in Me.

  I do trust You. But I want to understand what’s going on.

  Was she being punished for something? Her son was about to get married, and she was all alone at forty-two.

  The only man I’ve been interested in at all in years believes You don’t want us together. And he’s going to do what he thinks You’re telling him, no matter what I say.

  She raked the fingers of both hands through her hair, brooding because she was stuck in Seattle until her work was done. She was going to have to face Kevin’s rejection every single day, over and over again.

  He says it’s all part of some perfect plan, but it doesn’t seem very perfect to me. She looked toward the ceiling. “I’m trying to live right.” She raised her voice. “What more do You want from me? When do I get a break?”