Ruth Scofield - In God's Own Time

Meg rose and turned her back. “C’mon, girls.” She hung an arm around each of the older girls’ shoulders as she steered them toward a late-model brown compact car. “Lissa, I think you’d look fabulous in something green to match your eyes.”

Lissa looked back at him as though to ask, Is it okay to leave Heather? He nodded her on.

Meg captured the exchange, then turned a quizzical gaze his way. The expression smote his conscience; he guessed he did ask too much of his oldest girl. She’d been stuck taking care of Heather for most of the summer.

Meg resumed her escort. “And, Aimee, you’d look darling in one of those denim outfits. The boys, now—What’ll we get the boys?”

Meg tossed her hair and looked at him over her shoulder with a conspiratorial smile. “See you whenever, Kels Don’t expect us early.”

“Bye, Dad,” Lissa barely remembered to say. Aimee didn’t bother to look back at all.

“No-o-o…” Heather cried. “Lissa…don’t leave me.” Heather launched herself forward.

Lissa stopped and turned just in time to catch her little sister. “Dad?”

Her gaze entreated him to do something. Kelsey thrust out his chin in guilt. He’d really been careless to let too much responsibility land on Lissa’s shoulders. She was losing her childhood altogether too soon. “Don’t worry, Lissa. Heather can go with me.”

“I wanna go with Lissa,” Heather protested.

“Does that mean you want to go shopping with us?” Meg asked, emphasizing us so the child would understand who was in charge of the outing.

“Uh-huh.”

“All right. We’d love for you to join us.” Meg tipped her head, engaging the child’s full attention. “But, Heather, this is a grown-up girls day. We’re going to have lots of fun, but not the kind of fun that babies like. So what do you think?”

Heather considered her for a long moment. “I’m not a baby!”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. You had me worried there for a minute. I really didn’t want to leave you behind. Shall we go now?”

The girls scrambled to get into the brown compact Meg gave him a last wave. And a wink.

She’d handled his daughter very well—certainly better than he did sometimes. Linda Burroughs would have advocated a spanking with tight-lipped disapproval.

“Okay, I reckon that’s settled,” Kelsey said, hoping his relief was well hidden. Somehow, though, he expected Meg knew all about it. Her smile was too angelic.

“Where are we going, Aunt Meg?” Lissa asked from the adjoining front seat as they left the outskirts of Sedalia. Heather had been remarkably quiet next to Aimee in the back.

“Well, I hear there’s an outlet mall near Odessa now. Ever been there?”

“Uh-uh,” Lissa replied.

“Let’s check it out, then. Okay?”

“Whoopee,” squealed Aimee. “Sydney Burroughs thinks she’s so cool ‘cause she’s been there three times this year.”

The Burroughs family again. Meg wondered just how close Linda and Kelsey had grown. But if they were, why hadn’t Linda taken Lissa and Aimee along with her sometime?

“Some people like shopping a lot more than others,” Meg commented. “It’s like a hobby. And with only two people in the family, they probably have more time for it. Perhaps Sydney and her mom shop because they haven’t much else to do. Did you ever think that maybe Sydney is really lonely without her Dad? I’m sure her mother is.”

“Yeah, but that’s no excuse for Sydney to act so dorky. We lost our mom…” Lissa’s voice held a well of sadness. “That’s just as bad.”

Meg felt her throat clog, and she reached out to pat Lissa’s hand. “Yes…yes, it is. But Sydney has only herself and her mother. The five of you children are so lucky, so blessed—you have each other. And your dad is super special.”

“D’you really think Dad’s special, Aunt Meg?”

Meg glanced at Lissa. Lissa’s bright gaze held hope and a subdued excitement, wiping out the sadness Meg’d heard in her voice a moment before.

“I certainly do.” Meg was so used to hiding behind a friend-ship-only facade where Kelsey was concerned that the words came naturally. “Why, we’ve been friends for eons, and I missed both your parents a whole bunch when I moved abroad.”

That was the unvarnished truth Meg had missed both Dee Dee and Kelsey like crazy, yet she’d missed Kelsey more. Much, much more. But she’d never confessed her deepest feelings to anyone but God, trusting Him to help her through her heartbreak, and in those first months alone in a foreign country she’d done so regularly. Slowly, she’d felt better knowing she’d made the right choice in leaving her hometown. Leaving behind a love she could never see fulfilled.

Yet even while content that she’d done what she must, the idea of never seeing Kelsey again, even as a friend, had left a hole in her the size of the Grand Canyon. She’d filled that hole with long hours of study and hard work. Her business success had been very rewarding. Still, it had taken her a long time not to yearn after Kelsey daily.

After all this time she felt as though she might be suffering a setback. A huge one. She was in the strange position of comforting Kelsey’s children, and she found the exercise satisfying. Very happily satisfying.

“Anyway, I suspect your friend Sydney is very lonely being an only child,” she told the girls.

“Yeah, and Sydney was really jealous last Christmas when we got your package from England, Aunt Meg,” Aimee said with a touch of glee

Meg cleared her throat of the laughter that threatened. “Aimee, I don’t think we’re aiming to put Sydney’s nose out of joint, are we?”

“I guess not. It’s just that I get tired of Sydney being a pest about how much she gets to do,” Aimee said with a sigh. “Shopping, movies, doing stuff in Kansas City. The lake, too. Her uncle owns a place and invites them down all the time.”

“Well, after today, you can tell her you’ve been to the shopping mall, as well,” Meg remarked by way of consolation.

“What’s a nose out of—that word—what do you mean?” Heather asked, at last indicating she didn’t plan to sulk all day. Thank goodness, Meg thought.

“Oh, it’s just an old expression my grandmother used to use.” Meg glanced into the rearview mirror at the back seat, but all she could see was the top of the child’s curly hair. “Heather, did you know your mom and I had the same grandmother?”

“You did?”

“Yep. Grandma Hicks. She and Grandpa had a farm, too, when I was little. Dee Dee and I loved visiting her. She always made us laugh.”

During the rest of the drive, Meg told the girls stories about Dee Dee and herself at their age, painting pictures of their mother and other family members long gone. They shopped until very late before driving home, happily tired.

A field of black walnut trees came almost to the edge of the long gravel drive to the farmhouse. Meg recalled that Kelsey had planted them the year Lissa was born, claiming they’d help to pay for college one day. Soybeans occupied the opposite field.

They passed the once-white weathered barn before they reached the old cottage-style house in a small, grassy clearing. Separate garages lined up in the rear, having been built at different times and connected by a roofed enclosure which held the lawn tractor and other tools.

Two dogs ran up barking, as Meg shut off the engine.

“Hush, Charlie Brown,” Lissa instructed what appeared to be a mixed breed as she got out of the car, scolding and pushing the brown nose away. The small golden spaniel investigated Meg’s door.

At the commotion, Thad and Phillip spilled out of the house with Kelsey right behind them.