Ruth Scofield - In God's Own Time

As needy as his body sometimes felt, Kelsey couldn’t bring himself to engage in a casual affair, either. He didn’t want to, couldn’t think of making love in a careless, meaningless fashion with someone who meant little to him—something he’d be ashamed for his kids to know.

But Meg Lawrence wasn’t just anybody. She was…

Well, she was Meg!

Kelsey made a turn around the darkened room before finally lowering himself into the big chair. He leaned his head back, his thoughts and emotions in a swirl.

Dee Dee had been the love of his youth, and he wasn’t ready to leave her memory behind yet. Or ever.

Besides that, any woman who came into his life would have to realize he was already on overflow as he tried to balance his and his children’s lives right now. Who—what woman in her right mind—would want to marry him with five little rowdies to curtail?

And what would she get out of it? His affection? He wasn’t sure, other than his own physical needs, if he had any love left to offer a woman.

But Meg would know all that without any explanation, his heart murmured. She had been so much a part of them all those first years. Asking Meg to marry him would be like asking a part of himself to come home.

Stunned at that sudden thought, he rose to pace the room once more. The children’s voices drifted to him through the open windows; he should call them in to bed. Instead, he leaned on the window sash and listened to the night sounds, wondering about the new thoughts and growing excitement noting through his system.

Slow down, he told himself. Just because Lissa and Aimee want it to happen doesn’t mean it will. Or should.

He had to think about this logically. Why would Meg even consider giving up her career? A highly successful one, according to Audrey Lawrence. If Audrey could be entirely believed, Meg was the star player in her firm. Audrey exaggerated sometimes, but still—

Could he ask Meg to give that up? Where would he find the unmitigated gall?

He circled the room again, picking up and putting down an industry magazine on raising beef cattle, finally turned on the corner lamp over his computer, knowing he had to update his files, stared at the pile of unfolded laundry on the couch and once more listened to the distant voices of his children. He should urge them to bed soon.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to rob them of all their childhood; he’d let them stay up a little longer and sleep late tomorrow. Even though he couldn’t

He’d have to leave Lissa in charge again while he worked. He’d tried part-time housekeepers, which was all he could afford. At the beginning of the summer he’d let go of the last one.

Yes, and the house showed constant neglect, with the laundry always behind, and too many meals of hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and frozen pizza. And Lissa and Aimee had less freedom to be teens all the time. Though he thought he could hold off his worry about Aimee a little while longer, Lissa already talked of the school’s homecoming dance this fall, and he hadn’t a clue how to parent a girl child who’d reached the age of raging hormones and daily temptations.

Furthermore the house needed a coat of paint, his south fence should’ve been replaced last year, and Thad had barely passed fifth grade math. He hadn’t the time to coach him no matter how he stretched his day. Phillip…he felt decidedly guilty about his second son; Phillip was so quiet most of the time he was scarcely noticed. That couldn’t be good.

The children cried out for a mother. He wanted a wife.

The more Kelsey tried to shake the idea of asking Meg to marry him, to come and make harmony from his chaotic days, to share with him the raising of his needful children, the more the idea mushroomed.

And he knew he’d likely get little rest until he had an answer from Meg.

He finally rang the back door cowbell, three shakes, signaling the kids that it was bedtime, and set his mind to catch up with his accounting before midnight.

But he knew he was going to do it. Ask Meg.

Lord, where do I find the courage? he prayed.

He laughed, suddenly, a little harshly. Why he even bothered the Lord, Kelsey didn’t know. God had better things to do than to listen to Kelsey’s grumbles or hopes and desires. He’d found that out a long time ago. He’d have to figure out where to find courage on his own.

But where?

On Saturday, Jack, Kathy and their kids left. Meg had enjoyed their company, enjoyed her brother’s banter and her sister-in-law’s practical approach to Audrey’s sometimes unreasonable demands, but she understood their need to return home.

Audrey saved her obvious relief at their leaving until the last goodbye had been waved.

“How wonderful to have a little peace and quiet restored,” she uttered, sinking into her favorite wing chair. “I just don’t know how much longer I could have stood the daily racket.”

“Now, Mom, you said yourself you enjoyed teaching Sara and Andy how to play those simple piano songs. And you liked having Jack hovering about.”

“Yes, but children are so tiring nonetheless.”

Meg grinned at her mother as she fluffed up a cross-stitched pillow. “And you thrive on telling them stories of when you were their age, and about Jack and me.”

“I suppose. But they’re so hard on my antiques.”

“Think of it as giving your furniture more character,” Meg teased, picking up a dust cloth. “Three generations on Grandma Hicks’s dining chairs becoming four.”

“Sara did show a remarkable interest in my old china, didn’t she? And the cut glass bowls from Aunt Katherine.”

“Yep.” Meg held one of her mother’s favorite china figurines up to the light, dusting it lightly. She’d seen dozens of collections in England and had added to her mother’s each Christmas. “You might just have found your next heir to the family treasures, Mom.”

“I guess I should think about it.” Audrey rose and gazed tenderly at the things in her curio cabinet. “What with my weak heart, I should think about a will, too. To decide what Sara might want and little Andrew. I don’t suppose you’ll ever have children now.”

A quick sharp jab invaded Meg’s dreamy state. Why couldn’t she? Thirty-two wasn’t too old.

Thirty-two. How long was she going to wait before putting that dream forever on the shelf? If she’d wanted only a child, she could’ve married Clive.

She’d been steadfastly refusing to think about the discussion with Lissa and Aimee the whole morning. Refusing to want what they’d offered. Or rather, overriding the surge of hope it gave her. It wasn’t…wise…to entertain such hope. Her heart might prove to be more fragile than her mother’s.

Meg carefully replaced all the figurines in the curio cabinet, closed the door, folded the dust cloth and turned her teasing back on high.

“Weak heart, phooey Dr Collins says you’re stronger than you know, if you’ll only give up the invalid act. You just need to eat properly and get more exercise.”

“Oh, Dr. Collins. He doesn’t know everything,” Audrey said with a sniff. She pointed to a figurine on a corner table. “Don’t miss that one, Meg.”

“Don’t avoid the issue, Mom.”

“Oh, exercise.” Her mother dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “I can’t imagine myself joining one of those public gym clubs.”

“Well, think of joining the walking club, then. I hear there’s a group of older people from the various churches that make the half-mile circle around the downtown shops every morning,” she said, reminding her mother of the growing popularity of the activity. “Then they have morning coffee together.

“Some of those people even make the round four or five times. Paul Lumbar—” Meg casually threw in the name of the handsome older man all the single church women over fifty had been buzzing about lately “—mentioned it the other day when he called.”