Janelle checked the makeshift buffet table and saw the baked beans running low. She brought the aluminum pan into the kitchen, scooped several ladles from an even bigger pan into that one, and brought it back as people waited in line in the Sanders dining room. She decided the desserts could use replenishing as well, and headed back to the kitchen to slice more red velvet and lemon cake.
Libby cut her off on the way. “What exactly are you doing?”
Janelle walked around her. “Serving.”
“Yeah. For like, the last two hours.” Libby followed her into the kitchen. “You haven’t even eaten yet.”
Janelle grabbed a stack of Styrofoam dessert plates and a knife and began slicing. “Why are you worried about whether I’ve eaten? I’m not that hungry.”
“Really? On the way to the funeral you said you were starving and should’ve eaten something before we left. Now you’ve morphed into your mom and Aunt Gladys, making sure everyone else is well fed.” She put her hand to Janelle’s so she’d stop slicing. “Why are you trying to avoid Kory?”
Their teenage cousin Jackie happened into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
“Hey, Jackie,” Janelle said, “I need your help a minute. Could you start taking these plates to the buffet table?”
Jackie didn’t appear thrilled at the interruption, but she carted off three plates.
Janelle finally looked at Libby again. “Why would I need to avoid Kory? If you hadn’t noticed, there are lots of people here, and I thought it’d be nice to help.”
“By slicing more cake? Al and I have been keeping Kory company in the family room, and I know he’s been waiting for you to come in there. I think you’re just—”
“Janelle?” Her mom walked into the kitchen. “Why is Jackie putting more cake on the table? There’s plenty. Don’t slice up any more, baby, so we can keep it fresh.”
Libby made an I-told-you-so face.
“Well, I heard someone say the decaf was running low, so I can get that—”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Kory. Janelle turned to face him. He had changed out of his suit and into a pair of jeans. “No problem. Did you need something?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.” He glanced at Estelle and Libby and came a little closer to Janelle. “We’re about to leave in a few. Wondered if maybe we could take a walk, talk a little.”
“Oh.” Janelle remembered the walk they took down the same country road years ago as if it were yesterday. She looked about the kitchen. “I don’t know. I was just about to—”
“I got it,” Libby said. “Glad to serve.” She flashed a smile.
Janelle narrowed her eyes at her, then turned to Kory. “Okay, let me get my jacket.”
He opened the screen door for her, and they stepped out into the night. Activity swirled between both houses under well-lit grounds—people eating outdoors in the back, kids running to and fro. Janelle stopped and looked toward the swing set that was about as old as she was. Sara Ann was doing triple duty, giving a light shove to Tiffany, Claire, and Dee, Kory’s daughter, all of whom were giggling wildly.
“Mom, Mom, look at us!”
“Wow, Tiffy!” she said. “You all are sailing straight for the moon!”
“Higher, Miss Sara Ann, higher!”
Sara Ann was laughing. “I don’t want you to fall out!”
“We’re not leaving yet, are we, Dad?” Dee said.
Kory shook his head. “Not yet, sweetheart. You’ve got a few minutes.”
“Aw, Dad, that’s all?” Dee yelled, kicking higher.
Kory smiled. “Enjoy it!”
Janelle and Kory started a slow walk up the road in silence, away from the bright lights into the darkened blue sky. She held her arms against the cool temperature as the two of them fell into step.
“I’m glad Dee’s having a nice time,” she said finally.
“Me too. She was eating beside me, and your daughter asked if she’d like to sit with the girls.” Kory looked at her. “Tiffany’s a special girl.”
“Thank you.” Janelle stared at the quiet road ahead of them. “Libby said your wife left, Kory. What happened?”
Kory was staring ahead as well. “We were associates in litigation at a large law firm in Chicago. That’s how we met. A bunch of us went up for partner the same year, but the economy had tanked, and we knew they wouldn’t promote everybody. But I had worked hard, done well, even brought in some clients. Everyone assumed I’d make it for sure. Shelley had done well, but she hadn’t yet developed any business for the firm.” He took a breath. “She was promoted. I wasn’t.”
They took a few steps in silence before Kory continued.
“Then the rumors started about her seeing a senior partner in litigation, who was also married. She denied it . . . until she announced last New Year’s Eve that she was leaving to move in with him.”
“Wow. Just like that? What about Dee?”
“Shelley said it made more sense for Dee to stay with me. I was the one who basically took care of her.” He sighed. “That was the hardest part—convincing Dee her mother loved her even though she left.”
Janelle looked at him. “That’s so sad, Kory. What did you say when she dropped all this on you?”
“I didn’t know what to say at first. I was hurt and angry, couldn’t stand the sight of her. I felt like I never really knew her.” He kept walking, looking into the night. “I was ready to cut my losses and be done. But in the midst of all that I focused on God again.” He glanced at her. “Nothing like heartbreak to lead you back to God. I’d neglected Him all the years I’d been working toward partner. Anyway, it was hard because I knew He was telling me to forgive her and try and reconcile. And that’s what I did. Even asked if she’d move with me to North Carolina so we could start over.” He retreated into his thoughts a moment. “She said there was nothing we could do. The marriage was over.”
Janelle took a moment to think through what he’d said. “So what’s the status now?”
“She wasted no time getting an attorney to draft a separation agreement. On New Year’s Eve it’ll be a year. After that she can file for divorce.”
“Will you contest it?”
“No. I’ve tried to talk to her every step of the way—seemed like God wouldn’t leave me alone unless I did.” His sigh let her know how hard that was. “Nothing like your wife rejecting you over and over to keep you humble.”
“I’m sorry, Kory. I know this was nowhere near what you envisioned for your marriage.”
He stopped and turned to her with a curious look. “Are you saying that because you remember?”
Her brow creased, but it took only a minute for his question to register. “That’s not why I said it, but I do remember. We were standing in about this same spot. You started that silly discussion of what your marriage would be like.”
He had a near-smile. “Oh, it was silly?”
She continued walking. “That’s the best word for it. Let’s see . . . you and your wife would have breakfast in bed every morning—I guess it would just magically appear.”
“We’d train the kids to bring it to us.”
“Oh. Okay. All arguments would be decided by a flip of a coin in order to end quickly. And because you’re particular about having a clean house, you would assume all cleaning chores in exchange for a limitless basketball and football watching license.”
“College and professional.”
“Well, of course.”
“I said what my wife would be like too . . . Too bad I didn’t stick to it.” He muttered the last part.
“I remember. Beautiful and on fire for Jesus.”
“But I was flirting.”
Janelle frowned. “Flirting?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I meant it . . . much as I could’ve meant anything at eighteen. But I said it because you were beautiful and on fire for Jesus.”
She didn’t know how to respond, but her stomach did, with a tiny flip.
Kory paused in front of her, hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t think you remembered that night.”
“How could I forget, Kory?”
“I thought you had. Or at least it didn’t mean much to you, since you stopped returning my calls.”
“I stopped returning calls? You were the one who stopped calling. I left messages with your roommate and never heard from you.”
“I never got any messages.”
Janelle stared at him in disbelief. “I replayed that weekend in my mind so many times. The walks, the conversation. It was like our souls connected. Then we went off to college, and when I didn’t hear from you after the first month, I almost thought I’d imagined it.”
Kory looked into her eyes. “You didn’t imagine it. I think we were standing in this exact spot when we kissed good-bye. I’d never felt what I felt with you that weekend.”
Janelle’s breath caught. The wind grazed her face, and their stare lingered long enough for her to remember vividly every second of that kiss. She turned and started back. “It was a lifetime ago. We were kids.”
“True.” They kept a slow pace. “But even now, it’s nice to know it meant something to you too.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Then you showed up years later with Shelley.” Janelle tried to hold her tongue, but she had to say this much. “That was interesting. She didn’t seem excited to be here.”
“No. She didn’t want to come. Kevin invited us because Leslie was doing her ballet routine in the family talent show. We’d never seen her perform, and she kept asking if we’d be there. I couldn’t say no.” He watched a stray cat that had appeared from nowhere and fallen in step with them. “But we only stayed Saturday night because Shelley wanted to get back.”
“It was just as well.” Janelle didn’t mind admitting it now. “It was weird seeing you. I couldn’t help it; my heart reacted, and I basically spent the evening avoiding you.”
“Like today.” Kory glanced sideways at her. “Does that mean your heart reacted when you saw me today?”
If he only knew what was happening inside this very second. When she didn’t respond, he pulled her to a stop.
“Janelle?”
She allowed a brief glance. “Maybe. A little.” She started walking again. “But it doesn’t mean anything. I’m still processing life without David. You’re processing life without Shelley. We don’t need to go back sixteen years and process that too.” She sealed it with the refrain she’d been playing in her head. “Anyway, I’ll be gone after Christmas. So it’s kind of like that first summer all over again.”
“It’s nothing like that first summer, Janelle. You said it yourself. We were kids. And technology was primitive compared to now. We can call, text, Skype. We can be friends.” The darkness ebbed as they neared the houses. He paused in the shadows. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a friend.”
She dared to look into his eyes, knowing that on this beautiful late December night with this handsome man—a man her heart knew well—she could easily be drawn in.
“I’ll be honest with you,” she said. “I’d love for us to be able to build a friendship. But it can’t be anything more. Personally, I’m not ready. And God could do a miracle in Shelley’s heart and bring you two back together”—she didn’t miss the look on his face—“well, He could.” She looked into his eyes. “But, yeah. I could use a friend too.”
He extended his arms, and Janelle moved inside them.
“Merry Christmas, friend,” he said.
She closed her eyes, remembering his embrace. “Merry Christmas, friend.”