“Do you ever regret it, Mom?” Amy dropped into a chair at her parent’s kitchen table.

Marisa looked up from chopping vegetables. “Regret what?”

“Me. Do you ever regret having me?”

Her mother’s knife stilled. She set it down and wiped her hands on the front of her apron. “What brings this on, Honey? Are you...?”

“No. Gosh no, Mom. Why would you even think that?” Amy hugged her arms to her chest. “I was just wondering.”

Marisa shook her head. “You were wondering because...?”

She sighed. There had never been any point in trying to get something past her mom. Why would she think it’d work now? “There are these kids at school. Zach thinks they should get married after they graduate. Well, that’s what Jamal wants too, apparently. Maybe even Rhiann, though she’s stuck on the whole HGTV wedding frenzy thing, so thinks they can’t afford it. I just see so much lost potential.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot up. Amy winced. If only she could recall those last words. “Lost potential? Is that what you see when you look at me? Someone who isn’t living up to their potential?”

“No, Mom, I didn’t...”

“Devon! Get in here.” Marisa’s eyes blazed.

Devon hurried in from the living room. “What happened? Who’s hurt?”

Marisa pointed her chef’s knife at Amy. “Your daughter’s about to be. You tell him, Amy. You tell him what you just asked me.”

“I...”

“I’ll tell you. She wanted to know if I regretted her. Regretted you and our marriage. If I understood how I was the embodiment of so much lost potential. That’s what she said.”

“Amy.” Devon shook his head.

“No, Dad, it wasn’t like that. I just...”

“Wasn’t like that? What was it like then, exactly?” Her mother bent back to chopping, the knife moving furiously against the cutting board.

Amy sighed, hunching her shoulders under her father’s measured gaze and the daggers that shot from her mother’s eyes when she looked up from the vegetables. She told her father about Jamal and Rhiann. She squirmed as the seconds ticked by, the silence only punctuated by her mother’s frantic chopping.

“We were older than these two are. Not much, but enough that perhaps it makes a tiny difference. We did talk about adoption. Your grandparents were very much in favor of the idea, though they were torn on how to go about it. Your Aunt Belinda hadn’t had any children yet, and my parents thought we should give you to her.”

Amy grimaced.

Her father laughed. Even her mother cracked a tiny smile.

“Yes. That was, essentially, our reaction as well. Though now, you must admit, being a mother has mellowed her.”

“That’s mellow?” Amy clapped her hand over her mouth.

Marisa chuckled and set down her knife. “You have no idea.”

Amy tried to picture Aunt Belinda more uptight and controlling than she was and came up blank. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do we regret you? Never. Not for one tiny moment since you were born. And when we weren’t able to have more children? It made you even more precious than you already were.” Devon pulled Marisa to his side and reached across the table to grasp Amy’s hand. “It hasn’t always been easy. But no marriage is. Marriage is choosing to love someone every day, no matter how you feel at the time.”

Amy blinked back tears that burned in her eyes. “I might’ve heard something like that recently.”

Marisa studied her daughter then gave a sharp nod. “He’s a smart man. You should keep him.”

Amy hugged the wall of the foyer in Zach’s church and looked around, eyes wide. How had she forgotten how crowded it was? She should have let him know she was coming. Or called Paige or something. Butterflies zoomed around in her stomach. What if he wasn’t happy to see her? She stood on her tiptoes. Maybe she should just...no, she was staying. She’d march into the sanctuary, find her way to where they’d sat, and pray that Zach and his friends were creatures of habit. She could do this.

Taking a deep breath, she wiggled through the crowd, skirting the clumps of people who chatted in loose circles and the other clumps of folks who were just as clearly uncomfortable with the enormous crowd as she was. She darted in the first door to the sanctuary and scanned the pews. Why had she not noticed how big this place was? Because she’d only had eyes for Zach, that’s why. He could distract her just by breathing. That couldn’t be normal—or healthy—could it?

A snatch of cornflower blue caught her eye. She turned. Where...there it was. That shirt. It was his favorite, the one he only wore on parent-teacher conference days. She skirted one section of pews, keeping her eyes on the shirt, and slammed into a solid wall of...she looked up, heat stealing across her cheeks. “Hi, Ben.”

“Amy? Hey. Did Zach know you were coming?”

She shook her head. “I was going to surprise him. When I got here, I remembered how big your church is.”

Ben chuckled. “I guess it’s good you bumped into me.”

“Literally.” She peeked around him. “I thought I had my eye on him...where’d he go?”

Ben turned and pointed to the back pew where Zach, who was not wearing his favorite shirt, laughed with Rebecca and Jackson. “We’re back there. I was heading up to try and catch Pastor Brown before we start.”

“Go. I can find them now. Thanks.” She flashed a smile. At least she hadn’t sneaked up on the guy in the blue shirt and done something embarrassing. Close call. She wiggled through the crowd and side-stepped down the pew. “Is this seat taken?”

Surprise flashed across Zach’s face, but it was quickly replaced with a grin. “It is now. What brings you out this way?”

“I missed you.” Amy swallowed. That was not what she’d meant to say. She had this whole little speech prepared and...it’s like Shakespeare always said, the truth will out. Or something like that.

“I missed you, too. You done being mad at me?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really mad at you. Just...can we have lunch after the service?”

Zach slid his arm around her shoulders. “Of course. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I didn’t mean to break up your lunch plans.” Amy pulled her lower lip between her teeth. It wasn’t as if the rest of them couldn’t hear what she had to say. It wasn’t a secret. Her parents had been busy with the abstinence ‘til marriage teaching circuit locally all through her formative years. Maybe that had helped with her dating problem in high school. Not many guys were going to ask out the girl whose parents would quickly remind you that she was the reason they got married so quickly after meeting. Which made them sound mean, and that wasn’t the case. They were just honest. To a fault.

“Nah. It’s all good. They’ll probably be discussing Ben and Rebecca’s elopement plans, anyway, and I’ve already heard the details enough that I’m ready for a little break.”

“Really? They’re going through with it? I didn’t figure Ben would agree.”

Zach shrugged. “He wants to do whatever makes Rebecca happy. His parents are localish, so getting them there isn’t too major of a problem. We all agreed we’d show up wherever they said to go. And this gets her parents there, without them suspecting and without her mom planning some huge shindig. Seems like a win all around.”

Yeah, for everyone except Rebecca’s parents. “Won’t they be mad?”

“Rebecca’s folks?” Zach shook his head. “She says no, and I guess she’d understand the dynamic. She and Ben had a, let’s go with challenging, road to the altar, if you recall. After the hurt her dad put her through using her as an example when he was just getting started speaking...I think Rebecca wants to do what she can to keep her personal life separate from her dad’s ministry. Just to be safe. So...if they eloped without her parents there, maybe it’d be a different story. I guess Rebecca figures since there’ll be guests and a wedding party, albeit small on both counts, her mom’ll come around. And even if they have a big reception in Texas later, it’ll never be the circus her mom was trying to plan for the actual event.”

That made sense. Mostly. But was there really anything wrong with wanting a celebration of your marriage?

“How do you feel about Afghan food? I’m told there’s a great little authentic place close by. I can never find anyone willing to try it out.”

“Sure. I’ll follow you.”

He frowned. “Why don’t you ride with me? I promise it’s close. I’ll drop you back for your car when we’re finished?”

“Yeah, okay.” She grinned and slipped her hand in his. “Lead the way.”

A crisp November wind cut through her coat as they left the building and angled across the parking lot. Zach tugged his jacket closed with one hand and lengthened his stride. Amy jogged to keep up. He held open the passenger door, shutting it as soon as she was in, nearly catching the tail of her coat. She watched him hurry around the car, his breath misting in the air.

“Maybe it’ll turn to winter after all.” Zach rubbed his hands together then started the car. “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is this week.”

“I know. Do you have plans?” Her parents always had a houseful, but one more wouldn’t hurt. At least they weren’t heading out to relatives this year, though a long weekend on the beach wouldn’t be a bad thing. But that’d mean a long weekend away from Zach, too.

“Paige is doing a big meal for everyone and their families at the restaurant. It’s closed, but that was easier than trying to find someone’s house to squeeze into. You wanna come? Your parents could come, too...”

“I’ll ask, but they’ve probably already invited half the neighborhood to their house. That’s kind of their thing.” She shrugged. “At least when we’re not off to visit family.”

“I should’ve thought to ask sooner. I’m probably going to head to Bread of Heaven and help Rebecca and Ben serve the evening meal. Paige set her family and friend thing up for lunch so that anyone who wanted to help out downtown would be able to.” He steered into a parking space. “Here we are.”

Her parents usually set everything up to be dinner rather than lunch. Had they ever considered helping at Bread of Heaven? There were many families in the neighborhood who relied on B of H for at least one meal a week, or pantry restocking. She’d have to mention it to them. Maybe it was too late for this year, but it’d be good to keep in mind for the future. She pointed to the gyro platter.

Zach grinned. “That’s what I always get, too. Go grab a table, I’ll be right there.”

Amy found an empty table by the windows under the faux awning that took up half the seating area. Middle Eastern music streamed through the speakers and poster-sized photos of Afghanistan—at least she assumed that’s where it was—decorated the walls.

“They’ll be right out.” Zach slid a canned soda across the table to her and grabbed her hand. “I’m so glad you came out today.”

“Me too.” Amy took a deep breath. “I feel like I spend a lot of time apologizing to you. And I need to do it again. My parents got married because they were pregnant with me. They were twenty. They met on a Spring Break mission trip. I...they’ve never said anything that would make me question that they would’ve ended up together eventually. But I still have always felt like I forced the issue. Mom quit school, Dad changed majors to something he could finish faster. And there were a lot of hard years.”

“Oh.” Zach squeezed her hand before letting go and popping the top of his drink. “That...makes a lot of sense. Did you tell your folks about Jamal and Rhiann?”

She laughed as she opened her own can and related the conversation. “Which is why I’m here. If getting married is the best thing for them, then I’ll absolutely do what I can to help them see that. Though it sounds like Jamal’s already thought it through.”

“I think Rhiann has too, honestly. She’s just stuck on needing that big party. Do you—did your parents have a big wedding?”

Amy shook her head and leaned back as a server brought their food. “Nope. They wore church clothes to the court house. Grandma took pictures. They had a big twenty-fifth anniversary party. Mom bought a lovely gown and they renewed their vows. It was really nice.”

Zach took her hand again. “Can we bless the food?”

“Of course.” Amy closed her eyes, her anxiety fading as Zach prayed for their meal and their time together.

“Do you think your parents would talk to them? Maybe even take them on in a mentoring capacity?” Zach dumped the two containers of tzatziki over his sliced lamb and squeezed the edges of the pita closed, lifting the enormous gyro for a bite.

Amy watched as juice dribbled down his chin. Maybe she’d use the knife and fork approach. She dotted her meat with the sauce. “That’s...an incredible idea. I’ll ask them. Do you think Jamal and Rhiann would go for it?”

Zach shrugged. “Dunno. But it’s worth finding out.”

Amy nodded, studying his face. How had such an amazing man fallen in love with her?

“What? Do I have sauce all over me?” Zach swiped a napkin over his mouth.

She shook her head. “No. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

His mouth quirked up. “That’s pretty convenient for me, since the feeling’s mutual. Can you stay for a bit after lunch or do you need to get back?”

“I can stay.” She’d stay forever if he asked.