How does it come about that out of the bitterness of life sweet fruit is picked by groaning and weeping and sighing and mourning?

Saint Augustine

Chapter Twenty-Four

Twila

Rosa greets us as we walk into Ellyn’s. “Ah, you two came back. Where your mama at, Chica?”

“She’s at a conference for a few days.”

“Good for her. You keep the doctor company, Si?”

I nod.

“Rosa, we don’t have a reservation. Is that a problem?”

“No, Doctor, not for you. We busy, but not too busy. Only on Friday and Saturday are we too busy. Sunday, all the tourists already go home.”

We follow Rosa to a corner table near the window. Once we’re seated, Rosa leans in close to Miles. “I tell Ellyn you here.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Rosa.”

When I called and told Miles I’d like to try eating together again, I also told him I’d like to go to Ellyn’s again too, if that was okay. “I know her and I like it there. It feels sort of safe, you know?” I doubted he would mind.

I was right.

I look at the menu. “Hey, look! Ellyn added one of the vegan recipes we talked about a few days ago.”

“Great. I’ll try it. What about you?”

I pretend to read the rest of the menu. “Maybe.”

“Twila, we’re not here just to eat. I’m here to listen too.”

I look back at him. “Yeah. Thanks. It’s just . . . like, hard.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “After I said I’d do this, it . . . triggered Ed, my eating disorder, again.” I close the menu. “It’s like, I’m getting better, but then sometimes I’m not. But I saw my counselor and we talked about it.”

“Was that helpful?”

“Sort of.”

He nods.

I see Ellyn come out of the kitchen and look over at us. She starts to come our way, but then she stops. Miles has his back to her so he can’t see her. I wave her over and she starts our way again.

“Hi, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re not. We wanted to see you.”

Miles stands up and puts his arm around Ellyn’s shoulders and gives her a squeeze—just like he does with me. Then he stands back and smiles at her. “How are things in the kitchen?”

“They’re good.”

“It smells great, as always.”

“Thanks. You two are a nice surprise.” Ellyn looks at me. “Did you notice the new vegan dish on the menu?”

I nod. “Yeah, you did it.”

“With your help, girly. It’s necessary in this area, I realize. Even Patterson’s Pub has a veggie burger on their menu.”

I nod.

“So, honey, are you . . . okay here?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll probably order the new dish, but . . . you know, I might take it home and eat it.”

“You do whatever’s best for you.”

Ellyn turns back to Miles. “And how are you?”

“No complaints. I have a lovely dinner companion and one of the area’s best chefs in the kitchen.”

Ellyn smiles at him and I see something in the way she looks at him that’s different than the way she looks at other people.

“I need to get back to the kitchen.” She bends down and gives me a hug and then smiles again at Miles before going back to work.

Miles sits back down after watching her walk away.

“So, you really like her, right?”

Miles looks toward the kitchen again and then he runs his hand through his hair. “Well, gal . . . yes, I really like her.”

“She’s pretty likeable.”

After the waiter brings our meals, Miles looks at me and holds out his hand across the table. “Let me pray over this.”

I hesitate, but then I reach out and take his hand.

“Heavenly Father, I thank You for the gift of the food that sustains us. Thank You for Your presence at the table with us. Lord, I also thank You for Twila and her heart for You. May Your will be done here as it is in heaven. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”

I bowed my head while he prayed, and when he’s done I open my eyes but keep my head down.

“Twila?”

I nod without looking up. “I . . . I wish . . .” I take a deep breath and then wipe my eyes with my napkin. “I wish my . . . dad . . . loved God. Like, you know . . . the way . . . you do.” I glance up at Miles and then look back down.

“Gal . . .”

I look up again.

“I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through with your dad. Your mom has shared some of it. I know I can never replace him, but I want you to know that I’m here for you—for whatever you need.”

I wipe my eyes again. And again.

“I care about you, Twila.”

I nod. That’s all I can do. I wipe my eyes yet again. “Um . . .” I stand up. “I’m going . . .” I point toward the restroom. I walk across the café with my head down and go into the restroom and then into a stall. I can’t stop the tears. I mean, I really can’t stop them. I stand in the stall with the door closed. I pull paper from the roll and wipe my eyes and blow my nose. And I cry some more.

The emotions come . . . things I haven’t let myself feel. Feelings I’ve starved. The feelings Ed helped me avoid. The emptiness is huge and black and aches, but like, now . . .

It aches to be filled.

For the first time ever . . . I get that. Instead of starving it, I can . . . risk . . . filling it. Like, with food, but also with love.

God’s love.

His love through the people who are in my life—my mom, Miles, Ellyn.

They don’t replace my dad, but I’m beginning to understand that God . . . well, He’s enough.

More than enough.

And that makes me cry even more.

The house of my soul is too small for You to come to it. May it be enlarged by You. It is in ruins: restore it.