Page 108 of To Belong Together
“It’s not the most stressful part of the job.”
“What is?”
“Staying on top once you get there. Keeping people’s interest.”
Boy, could she relate.
They continued packing in silence. All the dishes she was working on needed to be wrapped, so John filled three boxes and emptied most of the lower cabinets before she finished the one. When she tucked in the last bowl, she closed the box, stacked the ones he’d finished, and helped load the last plastic food containers into his box.
She ran tape over the seam. “That’s enough for tonight. There’s no rush.”
He settled against the counter, watching as she stacked the box with the others. “You got quiet.”
She lined up the box with the one below it, as if she was concerned it would fall. Really, it was herself falling for John that worried her. “So did you.”
“Not unusual in my case.”
She busied herself by scanning the kitchen. “Just sounds like a tough business.”
He shrugged, pushing away from the counter. “God’s got it. We’ll enjoy Awestruck while we can, but only eternity is forever.”
Was that a healthy way to look at things, or a set-up for tragedy? She’d enjoyed her father while he’d been alive, and now she’d been blown to bits by his death. Eternity should be more of a comfort than it was. Dad had been a believer, but she missed him so much now.
Why did saying goodbye have to be so hard? She couldn’t set herself up for that kind of pain again.
If she’d lost Dad, she could lose anyone.
She’d always end up alone eventually.
John stepped closer and touched her arm. “Those tears better not be for Awestruck.”
She shook her head because she didn’t trust her voice. Her continued refusal to make eye contact bordered on ridiculous, given he stood directly before her, but she persisted. “It’s about being alone.”
He ran his fingers up and down on her shoulders as he bent his head to ensure eye contact. “You’re not alone.”
The tingling in her arms spread to her core, urging her to believe him. She wouldn’t be feeling like this if she were alone, that was certain. How did she feel both attraction and despair at the same time? “Iwillbe alone. Nothing lasts.”
“You sound like Ecclesiastes.”
She didn’t mean to stare into his eyes, but he studied her so intently. Was he really that intrigued by whatever he saw?
“Yeah. Well …” She dropped her gaze, catching a glimpse of his gentle smile on her way down and away.
With his good hand, he squeezed her arm. “Even Ecclesiastes says to enjoy life.”
“How? When I know it’ll end badly?” She sounded pathetic, and she knew it. She stared at his elbow, at the wing of an eagle rounding the curve of his arm, soaring near the tips of the pines.
He rested light fingers against her neck and with his thumb wiped away the latest tear. When she blinked another one onto the other side, he got that one too, holding her face in both hands, probably as tenderly as he could considering the cast. “Life doesn’t end with the grave.”
“Sometimes happiness doesn’t even last that long.” Her and John, for example.
He leaned closer, and she expected a hug. Instead, he kissed her forehead. Then, she got the hug she’d predicted, except now she was buzzing over the kiss, regretting that she was such a mess that he’d pressed it to her forehead instead of her lips.
John prayed.He prayed for self-control, because that had been a near-miss, and the soft scent of her hair wasn’t making this any easier. He prayed for comfort for Erin, because that was what he ought to focus on. He prayed for peace and truth. For God’s love to light the darkness.
In the throes of her loss, she remained vulnerable. Off limits. The most he could do was encourage her.
He rubbed her back. “This world is passing away, but God is with us, and He gives us gifts to enjoy here too.”
