Hidden Blessings Read online

  She could see the bike from the stairs. “You didn’t tell me it was pink and purple,” Kendra said. “Those were my favorite colors as a girl.”

  “For real?”

  Kendra took a step at a time. “Totally. But it looks so big. Are you sure you can handle a bike that big?”

  Brooklyn paused on the stair, hand in Kendra’s. “You’re kidding, right? I’m next to the next to the next tallest girl in my class.”

  Kendra chuckled. “Next to the next to the next? How do you know? Did you all line up to see?”

  “Yes!”

  At the bottom stair Kendra moved to observe the bike, but something flickered in her peripheral vision. She looked left—and saw red candles of various heights and widths ablaze on the dining room table and dozens of red roses. Her heart slipped completely out of rhythm.

  “What’s going on?”

  Lance appeared from inside the dining room.

  “Brooklyn, did you know about—” Kendra turned, and the bike was there, but Brooklyn was gone. “Where did she go?”

  Lance didn’t respond.

  “What is going on?” Kendra asked again. She wasn’t sure she could hear if he told her, for the pounding in her chest.

  He extended his hand, and she walked slowly toward him, taking it.

  Inside the dining room, she could see three giant poster boards like ones he’d blown up before, facing backward. He led her to the one on the far right and, without a word, turned it around.

  “This is beautiful,” Kendra said. The lights were dimmed, but she could see clearly. “Is this the Missouri River?”

  He nodded.

  The shot was a close-up of the waters, with the sun setting behind clouds in the distance.

  “You took this?”

  He nodded again.

  “When?”

  “Last Friday.”

  Only now did Kendra notice a caption near the bottom. She bent a little to read it.

  Many waters cannot quench love, Nor will rivers overflow it . . .

  —SONG OF SOLOMON 8:7

  She looked at him, heart pounding all the more.

  Lance didn’t say a word. He led her to the next and turned it around.

  She gasped softly at a gorgeous picture of an open field with wild purple and yellow flowers and a glimpse of sun overhead. “You took this the same day?”

  Lance nodded.

  She went straight for the caption this time.

  Enjoy life with the woman whom you love all the days of your fleeting life which He has given to you under the sun . . .

  —ECCLESIASTES 9:9

  “Lance . . .” Kendra read it again and took in the picture, mesmerized.

  He wouldn’t let her linger. He led her to the third and turned it.

  Kendra had to figure out what it was. Outdoor shot. Close-up of an old, yellow, wooden chair in a grove of trees. And on the chair, it looked like . . . a ring?

  She was shaking as she bent to read.

  Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her.

  —EPHESIANS 5:25

  “Lance, what is—”

  She turned around and stared in disbelief. Lance was on one knee.

  He took a ring out of a box.

  “Lance, what are you doing?” Kendra said. “You can’t. We can’t . . .”

  “Kendra Woods, will you marry me?”

  “Nooo . . .” Tears spilled from her eyes.

  He stood, wiping them with a finger. “Is that your answer? You don’t want to marry me?”

  “I’m saying we can’t. You can’t . . . marry me.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “What kind of marriage would that be? I can’t be the kind of wife you need. I can’t even be your wife for very long.”

  “That verse from Ecclesiastes says it all for me.” His voice was soothing. “Your life and my life are fleeting. I want to enjoy life with the woman I love all the days that God gives us.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Kendra said. “You can’t ‘enjoy life’ with me.”

  “Kendra, loving you is enjoying life for me.” He took her hand again. “You said our relationship was one-sided, that I give and you take. That’s not true, but . . . I want it to be.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I want to be your husband, the kind of husband who gives himself up for his wife. The kind of husband who sacrifices and serves and does any one-sided thing his heart desires for his wife because he loves her that much. I want you to take from me all day, every day, and we’ll let Jesus replenish us both.”

  Her gaze locked with his, and all she could think was she loved this man so much it hurt. “But what if you leave me, Lance?” She wiped more tears. “What if you leave me?”

  He brought her close, gently, and whispered in her ear. “I’m not going anywhere, Ken. Just let me love you. Let . . . me . . . love . . . you.” He got back on a knee. “I know this seems soon. But when you’re living life out of the box, you don’t worry about the number of months or years. You go with your heart. Kendra Woods, will you—”

  “Yes—”

  “—marry me?”

  Lance twisted his lip. “Now I’m not sure because you were talking on top of me. Did you just say—”

  “Yes, Lance Alexander. I’m scared and overwhelmed, but I could never love anyone more. I would be honored to marry you.”

  He closed his eyes a moment, then took the ring out of the box. “I don’t know if this will feel okay on your finger.”

  He slid the ring on, and Kendra stared at it. “It feels fine, and it’s absolutely gorgeous.” She covered her face. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You so much . . .”

  Lance stood, drying her tears once more. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “And if you try any more of that nonsense where you push me away . . .”

  “I’ve never known this kind of love. I need God to teach me how to receive it.” She looked at him. “But no. Whatever life I have, I’m spending it close to you.”

  “Well?” a chorus of voices yelled. “What did she say?”

  “Come on in,” Lance called back.

  Brooklyn, Trey, and Molly hurried in. Kendra lifted her ring finger.

  They pumped their fists and cheered so loud Kendra covered her ears. When the noise died down, Brooklyn had one question: “When’s the wedding?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  WHEN THE MINI-CELEBRATION HAD ENDED, LANCE AND KENDRA cozied on the lower-level sofa together, making plans.

  “This is funny,” Kendra said. “We got engaged an hour ago, and we’re looking at dates within the month. This is the easiest wedding planning ever.”

  “Is this weird for you, Ken?” Lance had an arm around her as she leaned back on his chest. “You just planned an elaborate wedding, and a few months later you’re marrying someone else.”

  “All of life is foreign to me now,” Kendra said. “So in the grand scheme of things, it fits.” She was able to laugh a little. “But really, I’m just blown away by God. As much as it hurt for Derek to dump me, I thank God he did. I mean, what if I had married that man?” She shivered at the thought. “God knew exactly what I needed . . . and didn’t need.”

  Lance’s face touched hers. “I love you. Let me know if you get tired of hearing it.”

  She snuggled closer. “I’ll never ever get tired of hearing it.”

  He looked at his phone again and opened to the calendar app. “So, as we think about dates, should we wait to see how your body is reacting to the new drugs so we’ll know which days are better?”

  Kendra gave him a look. “I caught that. You’re trying to see if I changed my mind about chemo.”

  “Nope. I’m assuming you changed your mind. You can’t give up. I want as much time with you as God will allow. I need you to fight. We fight together.”

  Kendra played with his hand. “I think I needed to feel like I was in control of something. I needed to
feel like I had a choice whether to scrape the bottom of the pain barrel or not.”

  “I understand that,” Lance said. “I knew you’d hit a really low point. By the way, what did Dr. Contee say when you told her your plan?”

  “She wasn’t exactly jumping up and down about it,” Kendra said. “So two more chemo sessions—September 18 and October 9.”

  “I’ll be there.” Lance waved his phone. “Already calendared it—you okay?”

  Kendra doubled over with a pain spasm. “I’m okay,” she said moments later, settling back in. “And if you can’t make both, I’m sure Trey or Molly will be free.”

  “They can be free all they want,” Lance said, “but I’m going with my baby to chemo and everything else.”

  Butterflies swirled inside. “You’ve never called me that.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be calling you all kinds of names—good names.” He smiled. “You’re my fiancée.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve said that too. I like the sound of it.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” Lance said. “I’m ready to get to calling you my wife.”

  “Now, I love the sound of that.” Kendra sat up a little. “Okay, so dates. I don’t know how my body will react to the chemo, but so far, the week before the next session has been better than the others.”

  “Let’s do it this week then.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

  Kendra smiled at him. “I don’t know if it needs to be that soon.” She checked dates on his phone. “How about October 4? Not a lot of time, but enough to put together something special, I hope.”

  She waited a few seconds, then bumped him. “Hello?”

  Lance turned to her. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about my mom. I can’t believe she can’t be at my wedding. I really want her to meet you.”

  Kendra looked at him. “If this drug works like they want it to and I get past chemo and surgery and radiation . . .” She sighed. “It’s so hard to think past all of that . . . But if I can travel one day, that’s where I want to go, to Tallahassee federal prison to meet your mom.”

  “What?” Lance was genuinely surprised. “If you’re able to travel, of all the places you could go, you’d want to go there?”

  “I do.” Kendra was nodding. “I want to meet the woman who raised you.” She paused. “It’s really something that neither of our moms can be at our wedding. But thankfully, your mom is still with us. She can’t come here, but we can go there. That is, if I can go one day.”

  It took a moment for Lance to respond. “You have no idea how much that means to me, that you’d even want to go.” He squeezed her softly. “I love you, girl.”

  “So, October 4?”

  “Sounds good, in more ways than one.” Lance shifted a little, looking at her. “Between the two of us, we only have one parent who could possibly attend. And your dad will be here.”

  “He’s coming end of September,” Kendra said, “but we don’t know how long he’s staying.”

  “I don’t think he’d come all this way and not stay a week or longer.” He paused. “I think he should be at our wedding, Ken.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t have a problem with that.” Her own statement struck her. “I guess it highlights yet another difference between a few months ago and now. So much has changed.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  TREY HUNTED FOR A TABLE IN THE STUDENT UNION AT THE height of lunch hour. Spying a group that appeared to be done, he hung nearby until they stood, then commandeered the table before someone else could approach from a different direction. He texted to tell Molly and Timmy where he was and started on the pizza slice he’d bought.

  He overheard a voice nearby.

  “I’m not sure I want to work with Professor Patterson though.”

  Trey let his gaze drift briefly to two female students sitting at the table next to him.

  “Because of the affair with Dean Woods?” the other woman said. “I don’t see why that matters.”

  “She’s not well respected in the field. Everybody knows she slept her way to tenure—”

  “Are you serious? I didn’t realize that.”

  “A letter of recommendation from her would mean nothing. I’m working too hard to earn a PhD and become a professor at a top university to have it tarnished by working with the wrong person.”

  “I see your point. If that’s the case, who would work with her?”

  “No one who knows any better. I was talking to—”

  “Hey, you.” Molly slid into the seat next to Trey. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh. Nothing.” Trey couldn’t shake their words. “Well . . .” He leaned in, keeping his voice low. “The women to my left were talking about Ellen. About what happened with my dad. I knew his reputation had taken a hit, but I didn’t realize Ellen’s had too.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Molly said. “I think hers took a worse hit because people feel she was promoted because of it.”

  “How did you know that?” Trey asked.

  “I’m fairly sure we talked about it.”

  “I’m fairly sure we didn’t,” Trey said. “I would’ve remembered that.”

  Molly shrugged. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

  Trey pondered it. “I think it’s sad that people are talking about her like that.”

  “Sad?” Molly deadpanned him. “I thought you couldn’t stand the woman.”

  “That was before. But she’s basically part of our lives now because of Brooklyn.” Trey glanced at the women as they left. “Ellen has such a cut-and-dried demeanor, like nothing fazes her. But I wonder how she’s really doing. You know? I wonder if she has people she can talk to.”

  “Okay, really?” Molly said. “She’s a grown woman and university professor, and you’re wondering if she has someone to talk to?”

  “Sometimes people assume other people have someone to talk to, and all the while they’re languishing,” Trey said. “I know about things like that.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Molly said. “If I didn’t have you to talk to, I would’ve been seriously languishing. And talking to Heather a couple weeks ago gave me an understanding I’d never had.”

  Trey sipped his Coke. “You know, I’ve never prayed for Ellen. Not once. I don’t know if she knows the Lord or not. I’ve only focused on Brooklyn.” He sighed. “I’ve got to do better. I’ve been praying to have the heart of a missionary, to really care about people’s souls . . . and I’m not even starting at home, so to speak.”

  “Friends, Romans, countrymen . . .” Timmy plopped down beside them with a hoagie. “What say you this fine afternoon?”

  “Sometimes I think you’re still on weed,” Molly said.

  Timmy lowered his sandwich, looking at her. “Fairest one, why dost thou besmirch my good name?”

  Molly looked at Trey. “Methinks the lad is ever and always delusional.”

  Trey shook his head at both of them. “You two are getting married one day. I just know it.”

  Trey took a chance stopping by her office. This was the building his dad worked in—and still had an office in. People knew who he was, and they talked. But that was just as well. Might be a good thing for them to talk about Trey being cool with Professor Patterson.

  He knocked on her door and opened at her invitation.

  “Trey.” Ellen looked up from a pile of books and papers. “What’s going on? Did something happen with Brooklyn?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He walked in farther. “May I have a seat?”

  “Sure.”

  Trey dropped his backpack to the floor and sat on the edge of his chair. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way . . .”

  Ellen laid down her pen. “You and your sister have a knack for starting interesting dialogue.”

  “But I’m a lot younger, and I’m a student here, so I’m sure it’s out of place,” Trey said. “I apologize in advance.”

  “What in the world is it?”

  “I was just hav
ing lunch in the union and heard some grad students talking . . . about you.”

  Ellen glanced downward. “Certainly nothing new.”

  “Well. That’s actually what I figured. I know people talk about my dad.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Ellen asked.

  Trey searched for the right words. “I just wanted you to know . . . only if you didn’t already . . . that you don’t have to live with the shame of what happened. I’m not saying you feel shame, but if you do . . .” He paused, regrouped. “You can move beyond regret and accusation and live a true life.”

  Ellen stared at him a moment. “Where is this coming from?”

  “I care. That’s all.” He shrugged, standing. “As you know, we have Bible study at the house on Wednesday evenings. I want you to know you’re invited.”

  “That’s rich,” Ellen said. “Wash U professor attends Bible study at family home of ex-lover.”

  Trey shouldered his backpack. “The only ones who would say that are the ones talking about you anyway.” He started to the door, then turned back. “I don’t know how well you know Cyd London, professor in the classics department. Even if you don’t come to the study, she’s always there on Wednesdays. She’s a good person to talk to—not saying you need someone to talk to, but if you do.”

  He felt her eyes on him as he walked out the door.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  KENDRA STEPPED OUT OF HER CAR IN FRONT OF CAFE NAPOLI in downtown Clayton, happy to let a valet do the parking and excited about lunch with two high school buddies she hadn’t seen in years. They’d heard about her sickness and had offered to come by the house, but Kendra thought it would be depressing to see them like that. She wanted to get out, pretend it was old times.

  Kendra saw Lisa and Audrey on the outdoor patio soaking in the seventy-five-degree day. Their hands waved wildly when they glimpsed her, and on impulse she started to respond in kind. But the girl who once did backflips in a cheerleader’s uniform couldn’t lift her arm. She smiled big instead as she made her way to them.