Page 25 of When Love Is Lost and Found

"Can you please call me Elizabeth?"

"Yes, I promise."

***

When I step out the back door, I breathe in the evening air and close my eyes, appreciating the cool breeze caressing my skin.

The backyard and garden are well-lit and inviting. Despite my mind racing, I sit on one of the benches and try to unwind. Knowing that this family has welcomed me with open arms is a humbling realization. There are still good people in this world, and God brought them to me.

God. I've been so mad at Him for what happened to Jimmy. Everyone else in the accident walked away except him. It's hard not to be selfish and wish he had been the one to live, even if it meant someone else had to die. My mind immediately goes to Jon. Was Jon close enough that day to be in danger? Why did Jimmy have to die, Lord? Why?

The footsteps I hear heading toward me quickly snap me out of my pensive mood.

"Hi," says Jon, with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Hi."

"Can I join you?"

I scoot over on the bench to make room for him.

"Did Noah go to bed?" I ask.

"Yes. I almost fell asleep next to him."

"So it's not just me?" I laugh, thinking of the state Jon found me in last night.

"No," he says, "I think it's the mattress. It's like sleeping on a cloud."

"Your parents?"

"They're both upstairs. They always retire early. Mom reads in bed while Dad watches television, and now he's enjoying it even more with the new television and remote control."

"Is Noah excited about the trip to New York?"

"Oh my gosh, yes. It's all he could talk about tonight."

"It was very nice of your parents to include me in their plans."

"Why wouldn't they? I don't know if you realize this, but my parents love you."

"You think so?" I ask, smiling.

"One thing about my parents is that neither one of them has a fake bone in their body. They don't pretend just for the sake of convenience or to get along. They're direct and honest to a fault."

"I like that," I say.

"They're also protective, and so am I."

When he doesn't elaborate, I glance at him, expecting him to finish his train of thought.

"God, it's so hard to look at you," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like your eyes have supernatural powers so strong that you're able to look deep into my soul."

"And what do you think I see?" I ask, still looking at him.

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