In God's Own Time. Ruth Scofield
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.”
“Mmm…Well, yes, it was nice of Paul to call. Perhaps I might give it some thought when I regain my strength.”
“You do that, Mom.” Meg changed the subject. “I have to go into town and find a fax machine to send Clive some information before tomorrow. Can I call Sandy to come spend the afternoon with you?”
“I suppose. I might even enjoy a little quiet bridge game if the circumstances were right.”
A smile caught up with Meg. If her mother wanted to play bridge, she couldn’t deny her own improvement any longer.
“I’ll call Sandy before I change clothes,” Meg told her mother as she sailed from the room. “I’ll leave it to her to call whomever else you want.”
In old downtown twenty minutes later, Meg found a small store front that listed “Computer, Postal and Office Assistance” on the door just below the name “Justine’s,” and parked in the curb-front parking. A moment later she stood at the counter waiting for the pretty brunette, the only clerk in sight, to finish her phone conversation, and glanced about. Two copy machines, three computer booths, a counter holding a fax machine and weighing equipment, all drastically contrasted with the high ceilinged, brick-walled old building.
“Can I help?” The brunette broke into a welcoming smile. “Oh, Meg! I heard you were home. How are you?”
“Fine, Justine. When I saw the name on your door, I just knew the business had to be yours You’re the only Justine in town.”
They’d been classmates from the first grade, although never more than casual friends. Still, Meg enjoyed renewing the friendship every time she was home. “So when did you open?”
“A couple of years back, after my youngest entered first grade. Since Dad owned the building, but couldn’t keep paying tenants for long, I decided to give my idea a try. Don’t make much here in the old part of town, but—” she shrugged and laughed “—it keeps me off the streets. And I fill a few business needs.”
“That’s great, Justine. You’re just the person I need.”
“You mean you came in for something besides to say hello?”
“You bet. I’ve got several faxes to send, and—” Meg glanced at the computer booths. A nearby sign gave a list of services and prices, including the hourly charge for computer use. “You wouldn’t by any chance be on the web, would you?”
Justine raised her eyebrows in mock insult. “Sure am, missy. No backward little town or lack of the latest equipment for us.”
“Wonderful Terrific. Where do I plunk my money?” Meg responded, laughing.
At Justine’s invitation, Meg moved behind the front counter and sent her faxes. Then she inspected the computer booths, screened to give privacy, and decided on which one she would use.
As usual whenever she immersed herself in whatever was happening around the banking and investment world, Meg was lost to her surroundings for long moments of time. An occasional bell, signaling a customer, or a ringing phone didn’t even register with Meg for the following hour. Finally, though, three noisy kids made their presence felt and Meg looked up.
“Sorry, Meg,” Justine said apologetically. “My kid, Mark, and his buddies usually hit me two or three afternoons a week for the computer