35

RICHARD STEPPED UP TO THE PULPIT. “I have an announcement.”

The murmur of conversation settled. Perla looked around to see that some of the folks who came out for the church vote were still attending. Maybe they were hoping for a little more drama, or maybe it was the way Richard had stepped up his sermons lately. Perla wasn’t one to critique a preacher—goodness knows it was a hard job—but something had changed in Richard over the last few months. The season of Lent had been filled with meaningful—and useful—sermons. She was looking forward to Easter this year even more than usual.

“I have good news. The elders have met and talked with members of the congregation and we are in agreement. Laurel Mountain Church will stay right where it is.”

There was a smattering of applause, and Perla felt happiness radiating off Ella, who was seated beside her. Or maybe that was because Seth was seated on the other side of her granddaughter. Regardless, she found Ella’s hand and squeezed it—with her right hand nonetheless.

“But there’s more,” Richard said, sounding like one of those TV ads. “We’ve closed on the downtown property and will be using it for Wednesday night Bible study, a new youth group, and a women’s group in the evenings. During the day, it will be leased to Wee Care Day Care to provide childcare services. As part of the arrangement there will be five scholarship slots at the day-care center, which will go to needy families in Wise.”

This time the applause was downright enthusiastic. Perla thought she might have even heard a whistle from Seth’s general direction. Yes indeed, God always had something wonderful up His sleeve. All a person had to do was wait for it.

What Ella had come to think of as the usual crowd gathered at her parents’ house after church for Sunday dinner. Mom and Dad, of course, Gran, Will and Laura with Ginny, who was the star every week, and now Seth. Keith came unless Kristen was in town. The two of them were spending more and more time together, and he’d even brought her to church twice. Kristen confided to Ella that there had been a definite change in the man—a good one. The developer had given his blessing to the courtship between Tara and Richard, claiming the pastor kept his creative daughter grounded.

Ella slid into her seat beside Seth and held out her arms to take Ginny from Laura, who was more than happy to eat a meal with both hands free for once. Cuddling the child in her arms, Ella felt a degree of contentment she wouldn’t have thought possible two years ago when she was engaged to the wrong man and much too worried about what everyone thought of her.

Seth smoothed his hand over Ginny’s downy hair and gave Ella one of his heart-melting smiles. It occurred to Ella that she would marry this man tomorrow if he asked. He was everything she’d been looking for without even knowing it. She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek while Ginny squirmed. Then they said grace and dug into another wonderful meal.

Easter came early that year, the first Sunday in April. Ella wasn’t sure how long she and Seth had been dating. Was it since he took her on the tour of the hunting preserve back in November or since their lunch at the pizza parlor? It didn’t really matter. The main thing was that they were dating, and the time they spent together made Ella realize how much energy it had taken to be with the wrong person. Spending time with Seth was almost effortless, especially as she became more confident that his attraction was to her and not just to her family.

“I was hoping you’d let me escort you to Easter services,” Seth said as they strolled through the pasture on a sunny day at the end of March. “Good Friday and Easter Sunday, if you’re up for it. I expect you planned to go with your family, but I’d be honored if you’d let me pick you up and take you.”

Ella was charmed that he would even ask. “I’d love to. And of course you’ll have to come to dinner after church Sunday and do your part to put a dent in the feast Mom’s planning.”

“Is Will going to be there?”

“He’d better be, unless he wants to deal with Mom.”

“Oh well, I guess I’ll come anyway.” Seth laughed. “Seriously, I can’t think of anything I’d like better than to sit in church with my sweetheart followed by some of the best cooking in the county.”

Ella laughed too, and it felt like birds singing.

Seth picked her up at dusk for the Good Friday service. He wore khakis and a soft chamois shirt open at the collar. Ella was amazed at how appealing chamois could look on a man.

“Why do they call it good when it’s the saddest service of the year?” she asked as Seth opened the door of his truck for her.

“Actually I’ve been reading up on the Lenten season,” he said, sliding behind the wheel. “It might be a variation on ‘God’s Friday,’ but I think it’s mostly because as terrible as Christ’s death was, it’s the best thing that ever happened to mankind.” He gave Ella’s hand a squeeze before starting the engine and driving them to church.

During the service, Ella was surprised to feel a lump in her throat and tears prickling her eyes. The pulpit had a black cloth over it, and the cross mounted high on the front wall was draped with a black swag. There were no candles, no bright lights, and just before they left, Richard turned out even the few dim lights, leaving them in total darkness. Ella felt a sob rise in her throat, but swallowed it down, telling herself she was being silly. Of course this was sad, but she knew how it all turned out. She knew Jesus rose again and all was well not only for Him, but for her. Like Seth said, all of this was a good thing. So why did she want to hang her head and cry?

Seth dropped Ella off at her front door. He seemed touched by the service. It had been a quiet ride home. He hugged her and kissed her cheek. Ella shivered, and he rubbed her shoulders through her baby-blue sweater.

“I’ll see you Sunday morning,” he said, and his words sounded like a promise.

Feeling the need for quiet, Ella grabbed a windbreaker from the coatrack and headed back out to walk and clear her head. She ignored the chill creeping up her spine from the hem of her coat as she scuffed along the gravel road, head down, puzzling over how the Good Friday service had affected her this year. Maybe it was experiencing it with Seth. She didn’t try to put too many labels on their relationship, but what she felt was deeper and more meaningful than anything she’d experienced before.

Of course, the story of the crucifixion and death of Jesus was difficult to hear. He’d been beaten, tortured, taunted, and denied by the people He loved most. It was truly awful what He went through, but hey, He was God, right? Wholly God and wholly man. So while it must have been painful, He knew it would be okay in the end. It wasn’t like a regular person going through all that.

Then Ella remembered the part of the story in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus’s agony became so great that His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground as He begged God to let Him off the hook. That was the man talking, right? Any man would prefer not to be tortured and crucified. But again He knew it would be okay, so why was Jesus so distraught?

Occasionally when Ella prayed, ideas popped into her head that were so wonderful and so to the point, she could only conclude they came straight from God. She had never heard Him speak in an audible voice, but she thought of those times as God speaking to her. On this night, as she circled back toward the house and the brilliance of the porch light, she thought she heard an actual voice.

Whirling around, Ella peered into the dark, but couldn’t see anything. The moonlight made the world look frosted, and if anyone were close enough for her to hear them speak, she would surely be able to see them. Then she heard it again, but this time she was certain the voice was welling up from the depths of her own fear and insecurity.

“Father, why have you forsaken me?”

Like kindling catching fire, Ella finally understood. Jesus hadn’t asked to be spared the desertion of his friends, the unjust accusations of others, the beating, the torture, or even death. He dreaded separation from His Father. Now that she’d gotten into the habit of talking to God, Ella couldn’t imagine what she did before. How had she hammered out problems? How had she found peace in difficult situations? How had she known what to do? Well, obviously, she hadn’t.

And here was Jesus—not simply praying to God, but knowing God, being God. Talk about close communication, about the deepest possible understanding. And that was severed utterly with nothing but the hope that Sunday morning would dawn. Going to the cross had been the greatest leap of faith of all time.

Tears washed over Ella’s cheeks. For the first time in her life she thought she understood what it was Jesus had done. What it was God had arranged for the benefit of all mankind. And she was broken.

On Sunday morning, Ella hesitated before putting on her Easter finery. Was she showing off? Did it look like she cared more about how she looked than what Easter was all about? She thought about Friday night and the moment when she realized what it was Jesus had sacrificed for her. No, she decided, this was a celebration and she should wear her very best.

Seth arrived right on time. Ella admired his gray slacks with a pale blue shirt and a tie that had . . . pink stripes.

He saw her eyeing the tie. “The clerk at the store said it was just the thing for Easter Sunday.” He shrugged. “So I bought it.”

“It’s perfect.” Ella reached out and adjusted the knot, then smoothed the tie down. Touching him like that felt good, sort of proprietary. Seth smiled as though he liked it, too.

The service was gorgeous, and Ella wished she were wearing an evening gown, a tiara, or maybe the crown jewels—nothing would be too fine this morning. There were a few ladies wearing hats, and they looked grand dotting the packed pews like a watercolor painting all in pastels. Ella longed to make a quilt hanging of it.

Seth held Ella’s hand through most of the service, wrapping it in both of his when they prayed. Ella realized Seth was the first boyfriend she’d ever worshiped with. Maybe if she and Mark . . . well, that didn’t matter now. She looked at Seth out of the corner of her eye. He was so attentive to the service, and his face was lit up like . . . like it was when he looked at her sometimes. She shivered, and he tucked her arm closer to his side.

After church they all headed back to the farmhouse, where Mom served a ham studded with pineapple and maraschino cherries. Ella scooped Ginny into her arms, looked around the table, and was humbled and abashed by what she saw.

The day Gran had her first stroke, she’d come home partly out of duty and partly to escape Mark. She might have even had some notion of fulfilling her dream of moving back—which had come true, but certainly not in the way she imagined it. Now here she was surrounded by her family as well as people who would have been strangers two years ago. Keith sat at the end of the table next to her father, deep in conversation about spring gobbler season. Richard and Tara chatted with Will and Laura. Ella thought she heard something about a double date now that the Easter season was ending. Gran, Aunt Sadie, and Mom had gotten a letter from Delilah’s niece, inviting them all down for a birthday party, so they were making plans for a mother-daughter beach trip that would include Ella.

Seth rubbed Ella’s shoulder, and she handed Ginny off to Mom. She counted all the well-loved faces around the table and realized there were eleven adults, the same as the number of apostles who rejoiced when Jesus rose on the third day.

Ella thought about how Jesus told His followers again and again that He would be back. But they didn’t understand. Ella sympathized with them. She might have a knack for understanding people, yet she knew how easy it was to miss hearing God’s voice when blinded by the world.

She thought about how she’d run away from Mark, using her grandmother’s illness as an excuse. How Aunt Sadie pretended not to care who her father was for fear she might hurt those she loved most. How Gran spent sixty years carrying Arthur Morgan’s secret because she thought it might do more harm than good. They’d all robbed themselves of peace because they didn’t have faith in one another. Because they didn’t trust the truth.

After they ate, Seth motioned for Ella to follow him into the living room, where she settled on the sofa. Seth sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. It was so perfect, Ella almost panicked. What if she were focused on the wrong thing again? What if Seth distracted her from what was really important?

She laughed under her breath. No wonder the disciples had such a hard time. They were human, too. She rested her head on Seth’s shoulder and sighed. Gran came into the room and slipped into an armchair with admirable grace for a woman her age who’d suffered two strokes. Ella realized her grandmother was still beautiful and wondered if she might not find love again, as well.

Gran picked up a stack of books on the coffee table and sorted through them. “Ah-ha. I think this belonged to you . . . and Will,” she said, holding up a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit that was newer than her own back at the little gray house.

She flipped it open and smiled, smoothing the page, then began to read. She could do so smoothly now, with only a little hesitation.

“‘Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the j-joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be . . . ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’”

Gran closed the book and pressed it to her heart. “I felt so very shabby after Sadie was born—ugly even. But your grandfather . . . in-invited me to be Real.” She paused, and Ella thought it was one of those moments when she’d lost the next word. But then Gran smiled, the right side of her mouth lifting almost as high as the left. “No, that’s not right. God invited the two of us to be Real together, to know each other through Him.” She looked at Seth’s hand on Ella’s arm, and Ella’s head resting on Seth’s shoulder. “There’s nothing better.”

Gran stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Laura said I could give Ginny her bottle, and I’m thinking that’s almost as close to heaven as I can get here on earth.” She reached out and cupped Ella’s cheek, smiled, and left the room.

Seth sat forward and faced Ella. “Your dad and I talked last week.”

Ella was thinking about the lines Gran read, about being Real, so she just nodded. Seth and Dad talked all the time, and she’d learned not to be jealous, finally trusting that Seth loved her for herself more than for her family.

Seth slid off the sofa and got down on one knee. He took Ella’s hand and got her full attention. She felt her pulse begin to do crazier things than usual.

“It may be too soon, and if it is, say so. But I’m really hoping . . . what I mean to say is . . . will you? Will you?” He swallowed convulsively, and Ella held her breath. “I know you had a bad experience before, but I’m really hoping you’ll be my . . . wife.”

Ella remembered when Mark asked her to marry him. He’d thrown the idea out on the spur of the moment. “Hey, what if we got married?” Thinking back on it now, she realized he’d never actually asked her. He’d just wondered what if . . . ? And now she thought she had a pretty good idea what would have happened if they’d gotten married. She shuddered, then realized she was keeping Seth waiting.

“Are you sure it’s me you want?” she asked with a sly smile.

He moved to sit beside her and pulled a ring box out of his pocket. “I’ve been praying about it pretty much since you got after me for tearing down the chicken house. For a long time.” He grinned. “Well, it felt like a long time—I had the notion God was telling me to wait. But here lately . . .” He flipped open the box to expose a sapphire and diamond ring. “I feel like I have the go-ahead.”

Ella looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing but hope and love there. Speechless, she nodded her head because she couldn’t form the words she wanted. She thought this must be how Gran felt when she’d had her strokes—overflowing with emotion and unable to utter a single coherent word.

But Seth knew. He understood her perfectly. He eased the ring out of its velvet slot and slipped it onto Ella’s left hand where it fit like suddenly recognizing you’re on the road home.