Chapter Twenty-Six
John turned off his truck and climbed out.
Lori was walking across her front lawn—which was littered with boxes of zucchini—a distressed look on her face.
Concerned, he crossed to her. “Lori, what’s wrong?”
Apparently speechless, she motioned to four boxes of zucchini on her lawn.
“What happened?”
“Serena and I built a stand—and someone stole it!” she wailed. “And then they left me their zucchini.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
He pulled her into his arms and she clung to him. “It took us two hours to build that stand. Serena even painted the word ‘free’ on the front of it.”
“So someone took the free stand and left their zucchini for you?” He couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s hilarious.”
She pulled loose from his embrace, apparently offended, but he still couldn’t stop laughing.
“This is zucchini season, honey. It’s a war zone. There is no Geneva convention for gardeners.”
She started to smile. “I suppose, given enough time, even I may laugh at this.”
“I hope so. Otherwise, you may have to go to garden therapy or something.”
She snorted. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
He grinned and touched her chin. “But you’re smiling.”
She nodded. “So maybe you’re funnier than I think you are.”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get rid of this stuff.”
“How? You almost got me arrested doorbell ditching.”
“Let’s drive it to the shelter. They can feed homeless people some of those zucchini tacos.”
It took them thirty minutes to drop off the boxes. As he drove toward her house, Lori touched his arm. “Would you drive back up in the canyon so I can see the leaves again? Please?”
Hiding his delight, he nodded and turned toward the canyon. It was too early for sunset, but he was heartened by the fact that she wanted to go back where they’d had such an intimate conversation before.
When he parked, she stayed on her side of the truck. He didn’t reach for her hand. Not yet. He’d let her make the moves tonight so he didn’t spook her back into “just friends” mode.
“I love the vivid colors up here.”
“I have to ask you. Are the leaves on the trees in New York black or something?”
She shot him a look that clearly asked, “Are you crazy?”
“I mean, that’s all I see you wear, so I was just wondering,” he teased. “Maybe New York is a black-and-white state, all one-dimensional.”
She snorted. He loved her little snort. It was a delicate thing, more like a little sneeze. She used it when she was trying to indicate her disdain or disgust, but he thought it was cute. In fact, he liked to see if he could provoke a snort.
“New York has lots of beautifully colored trees,” she said defensively. “And I wear lots of other colors.”
He chuckled and motioned toward her outfit. “Prove it.”
She looked down at her T-shirt, shorts, and sandals—all black—and pulled a face at him. “I have other colors at home.”
“Prove it,” he repeated.
“Back in New York, I have a closet full of colorful clothes.”
He laughed at the indignant look on her face. “Whatever.”
“Are you prejudiced against the color black?”
“Not at all. It looks ravishingly gorgeous on you.”
She snorted again. “You are so full of it.”
He smiled. He’d succeeded in getting another cute little snort. “You’re probably right.”
She turned back to the leaves, gazing out the windshield, and they sat in silence again. Finally, she said, “Do you ever wonder how God invented colors?”
“I’ve wondered if we helped.”
“If we did, then I helped invent the color—”
“Black?” he teased.
“Nope. I helped invent red. It’s my favorite.”
“Shush your pretty mouth before someone hears you! Don’t ever say that around these parts.”
“Why?”
“Up here, it’s got to be USU blue, not U of U red. You could get seriously hurt talking like that. Think of your safety, girl.”
“Girl, huh?” She snorted again. “I remember when I turned twelve, my father bought me a dozen red balloons.” She paused and shook her head. “I haven’t thought about that forever. He tied my present to the balloons.”
He was glad her voice didn’t hold any bitterness at the moment. “What was the present?”
“Another locket to hang on the necklace from Grandpa Scott.”
“Do you still have it?” he asked.
“It had pictures of him and my mom in it. After he left, I put it in my mother’s jewelry box.”
She didn’t say more, and he didn’t push.
After long moments, she turned to him. “John, do you think it’s possible for people to change? Really change?”
At the wistful sound in her voice, he started to reach for her hand, then stopped himself. “Yes. I do. Very much so.”
She sighed. “Can we get out of the truck for awhile?”
Feeling very tender toward her, he said, “Sure.”
She opened the door. He joined her in front of the truck.
“I feel like I could stay here forever, looking at this scene. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. Just like I feel peaceful around you, and when I’m in church.”
Just like he felt warm and happy when he was around her.
That emotion began to swell within his heart. An emotion he’d never felt before—never recognized as being possible—spread through him, filling him, body and soul, with warmth and light and . . . love.
Finally, he knew without a doubt.
He was in love with Lori. A soul mate, love-nearly-at-first-sight, eternal kind of love.
Is it time? he prayed silently. Right now?
Yes. The answer whispered through his soul.
He was confused. She hasn’t regained her testimony. The impression of peace came again, stronger, as if the testimony would come.
What if I scare her off again?
The whispering voice brought peace to his heart. It is time.
He’d learned on his mission that if the Spirit said the time was right to say something, it meant the other person was ready to hear it. He prayed that was the case with Lori.
Turning to her, he dropped to one knee and took her hand.
“Lori, I love you with all my heart.” His voice shook with the emotion flooding his senses. “Will you marry me?”
~
Stunned, Lori said, “I thought we were just friends.”
“You know we’ve both felt more for each other than that from the beginning,” John said, still on one knee, both his hands warm around hers.
Her heart ached. She wanted to marry John with all her heart, but she couldn’t. Not when he wanted children so much and she couldn’t give them to him.
He stood, still holding her hands in his. “Lori, you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known. When I’m around you, I’m a complete person. When I’m around you, I want to be my best. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t know if I can survive without you. You have become as necessary to me as the very air I breathe. I need you. I love you.”
Her love for John swelled until it burned against her eyes. As the tears spilled onto her cheeks—tears of love, of joy, of pain—the truth of her feelings escaped in a whisper. “I love you, too.”
“Then marry me. We’ll be good together.”
“I . . . can’t.” She could hear the anguish in her voice.
He pulled her into his arms and she fit perfectly, as if she’d always been meant to nestle there, sheltered and loved.
“You are the woman of my dreams. You are everything I’ve been searching for . . . forever.”
He wiped a tear away from her cheek, gently.
“I can’t be who you want, John.”
“You don’t understand, Lori. You are already exactly who I want, just the way you are.”
She had never wanted anything more in her life.
I can have him if I say yes.
The thought exploded within her.
She could have him.
In that moment, she wanted more than anything to be with John. She wanted to marry him. To spend her life with him.
She couldn’t walk away from him. Not from everything she’d always wanted.
Her mother had said Lori needed to tell him about her infertility, but as she looked into his beautiful blue eyes and saw the love there, she realized she could never say the words. If she did, she might see that love fade. He might leave her. And she couldn’t deal with that.
She could say yes . . . and pretend she’d never known about her infertility.
Gentle as love, John raised her face toward him. “Please marry me, Lori.”
“Yes,” she said, joy filling her as she made her decision. “Yes, I will.”
He picked her up and swung her around, hugging her tightly, laughing happily. Then he set her down and kissed her, gently at first, and then more hungrily.
She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back.
She’d waited for so long for someone to truly love. For someone to truly love her.
Perhaps someday God would forgive her for not telling John something that would bring him so much pain down the road.
Perhaps someday she’d forgive herself.