Ruth Scofield - In God's Own Time

“The big city has ruined you!” he said in mock horror.

“That’s right. I’ve forgotten any rural connections I once might’ve yearned for.”

“Poor baby!” He threw an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side in a display of fondness she’d long missed. Funny…no other man had ever affected her the way Kelsey did. She loved his banter, felt young and appreciated under his bigbrother attitude. Yet she’d always hungered to know what his lips felt like in a lover’s embrace.

“Did you hear that, kids?” he called as they reached the back porch, letting his arm drop. “Aunt Meg is suffering from malnutrition.”

“What’s that?” Heather asked, piling chips on her plate.

“It’s starving till you die,” replied Phillip, already munching on a hot dog. “Dad, can we get the marshmallows?”

“Lissa’s getting them,” said Aimee, handing Meg a paper plate filled with a hot dog and beans. “C’mon, Aunt Meg. After we eat, we’ll teach you how to roast marshmallows on the grill.”

“Starving? Didn’t anybody feed you supper before?” Heather asked, her feathery brows drawn with perplexity.

“Your Dad’s just teasing, honey. I’ve been taking care of myself perfectly well.” Meg slid onto the picnic bench, and Kelsey followed.

“Uh-huh,” Kelsey said with a snort as he squirted mustard from a squeeze bottle onto her wiener before doing his own. “Taking care of yourself? All you’ve had for nurturing are tall buildings, harsh concrete and high fashion with nothing to keep you company but that dry, lifeless stuff of crunching numbers. You’ve been deprived of your roots, Meggie. How have you survived without a little earthy visit now and again to feel alive?”

“Oh…I’ve managed.” She bit into her dog. More than managed, if he only knew. She had a side to her that he’d never known.

True, Meg had missed considerably Missouri’s rolling hills, Ozark Mountains, the rivers and easy accessibility to green open spaces, but she’d discovered in herself a rare talent for growing a different kind of crop than what Kelsey produced. Money. Lots of it. Heaps of it.

As she silently munched, listening to the children’s exchanges, observing Kelsey’s gentle rule over the table, she thought about her career. It did surprise her.…

Meg had a gift for investment banking. She understood it, the industry talked to her. Her ability to recognize good—even fabulous—investments could only have come from the good Lord, Himself, she thought, because she seemed to be the only one in her family to have it. Jack, following their father’s lead, had gone into law, but rather than settle for a small-town existence, he’d taken his degree into the St. Louis corporate world. He did fine for himself and his family, but Meg knew her brother wasn’t into making a fortune.

No one knew just how large her own investment portfolio and bank accounts had grown, either. It wasn’t something her family discussed as a rule, other than her mother occasionally asking if she was making ends meet all right. Meg hadn’t flaunted her ability, Clive knew, but only because they worked so closely together

But as for a connection with the land, the kind her grandparents had known, and as Kelsey did…no, that hadn’t been her path. It might have been if Kelsey—

Meg drew a sharp breath and let it out slowly. It was time to go home! Spending time with Kelsey and the kids was making her loopy. Wonderful and miserable at the same tume.

Meg stared at the children, now shuffling for a space around the charcoal embers, with marshmallows stuck onto the long ends of their sticks. It would be so easy to become too attached to them. To suffer heartbreak all over again when she had to leave.

“Lissa,” she said suddenly, “why don’t you walk me to the car. I really need to get going.”

“Sure, Aunt Meg.”

“So soon?” Kelsey said. “I’d hoped we could talk after the kids went to bed.”

“Some other time, Kelsey. I promised I’d be home to tuck Mom in.”

“Of course.” Did she detect real disappointment in her refusal to stay longer?

“Well, thanks,” he said. “Thanks for spending the day hauling my daughters around—and for all the clothes and things. Kids?”

Five young voices made a chorus of various responses.

“You’re very welcome. We did have fun, didn’t we, girls?” Meg said, smiling. “We shall do it again sometime.”

She said good-night, and Lissa fell into step as they walked to her car. The fourteen-year-old was quiet.

“Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss with me, Lissa?”

“No, not really…”

“Mmm…”

“It’s just that I don’t have anyone to talk to about grown-up stuff.”

The night sounds had begun; crickets chirped and mosquitos buzzed. A soft breeze whispered through the oaks by the house.

“There’s always your Dad.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes he’s too busy and he doesn’t…well, he tries, but—”

“A girl needs another woman, I suppose Is that it?”

“Uh-huh. But not just any woman! Once he suggested I should talk to Sydney’s mom, can you imagine?”

Meg hesitated a moment before answering. If Kelsey were thinking of Linda in those terms, it wouldn’t help matters if she fostered more dissatisfaction in the girls. “Lissa, I don’t remember Linda Burroughs very well. What is it you don’t like about her?”

“Only everything!”

“Oh-oh. That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. She criticizes all the time and thinks she knows all about how I feel when she doesn’t. And she thinks I should wear the same kind of dorky clothes Sydney wears I couldn’t stand it if Dad got, you know, seriously serious about her ”

“Well, perhaps you should tell your dad how you feel about Linda.”

“I ‘spose so, but it’s hard to find time without the other kids around. And sometimes Dad’s just not in the mood, you know? Then there’s always so much to do! I mean—” Lissa bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Aunt Meg. I don’t mean to complain so much, but—”

Meg made a shocked sound. “Oh, my, my, my! Here I thought I’d met the perfect teenager.”

Lissa erupted in the desired giggles, and Meg joined her.

“I’m serious, Aunt Meg.”

“It’s all right, Lissa. I’m not kidding, either. No one expects you to be perfect. Even though I thought you were when you were little.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m so glad you’re home. I always remember good times with you. And Mom and Dad always talked about you with lots of love and stuff—you know?”

“Yeah…” Meg’s heart turned over She remembered, all right.

“So, Aunt Meg, I was wondering if—that is, Aimee and I talked it over, and we thought maybe you might be tired of—of living on your own?”

“What do you mean, on my own?”

“Well, maybe you’ve come home to stay?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Lissa. I have a great job that I like very much, and I don’t think my mother will need me after a few weeks. I’d just get in her way and make her nervous.”

“Not that. I mean. .Aimee and I thought…we’d hoped—”

Lissa stood very still and held her breath, a peculiar expression fluttering over her face.

“Lissa? What is it, hon?”

“Aunt Meg, would you marry my dad?”

Meg sucked in air, wondering if the fragrance of the honeysuckle vines resting against the old board fence next to her car could cause hallucinations. Surely she hadn’t heard right.

“Um, Lissa…”

“Please, Aunt Meg, just listen. Please? I’m seriously serious.”

“Well, I—” She swallowed hard.