An Unlikely Match. Arlene James
Dallas, not for her grandfather, not even for the Chatam sisters, who had been so very kind, and certainly not for herself.
Broken hearts, she very much feared, were soon going to be the rule rather than the exception—her own among them.
Chapter Two
Shifting in her customary seat on the antique settee, Odelia stifled a sigh. The room seemed strangely vacant now that Kent had excused himself. He’d stayed only long enough to be polite after Asher had gone, but then, Kent never lingered in her presence for a moment longer than necessary. She couldn’t blame him.
Who would have imagined that her former fiancé would one day take sanctuary here at Chatam House? Odelia certainly would not have, not after what she’d done to him. Perhaps time had diminished the hurt she’d dealt him, but she was only too glad to provide him a kindness now or anytime. When Dallas had first explained the situation nearly two weeks ago, the first reaction of Odelia’s sisters had been to gently refuse, but Odelia herself had argued fiercely that God had His reasons for bringing the Monroes to their doorstep, and she still believed that. She just hadn’t counted on how having Kent in the house would affect her.
How could it be that after all these years, some small vestige of her original feelings for the man would still be rattling around inside this old heart of hers? Now, she longed continually for his company and, though he avoided her, dreaded the day when the Monroes would move back into their house. Why, oh, why had Hypatia and Magnolia insisted on calling in Asher? Their nephew was bound to get to the bottom of things and come to terms with the insurance company in short order, and then, before she knew it, Kent would be gone again. Well, perhaps it was for the best at that.
Blanching, she looked down at her hands, ringed fingers twining together anxiously. Once, she had wanted very much to marry Kent Monroe, and had nearly done so. Only at the last moment had she realized that she could never be happy living apart from her dear sisters. But when she had suggested to Kent that they live with her family, he hadn’t taken it very well, claiming that a “real man” would make his own home. She had understood that perfectly, but it had still hurt.
The aftermath of the breakup had been quite difficult for her, but she had never regretted her decision not to marry. Kent had truly been the only man who had ever tempted her to do so. When Kent had married Deirdre Billups, Odelia had put away her secret longings, and she had been more than content over the years. She had actually been quite happy and genuinely glad for Kent and Deirdre when, after years of marriage, their son had been born. Likewise, she had grieved for Kent and Deirdre when their son had died in an accident at the age of forty-one and then again, over a decade ago now, for Kent when Deirdre had succumbed to an aneurysm.
Since that time, she and Kent had gradually renewed their friendship, always keeping a polite distance. She had found that arrangement very satisfactory and had imagined that they would end their lives as casual friends with their shared past unremarked but unforgotten, at least between the two of them. Instead, in thirteen short days she had somehow reverted to her old foolish self, longing for the kind of relationship that she had long since determined was not for her. How could she, at her age, feel such nonsensical, girlish emotions? She was simply astounded.
“Dearest, are you all right?” Hypatia asked, calling Odelia from her reverie.
Odelia looked up, glancing from one sister to the other. Both watched her with concern etched upon their faces.
“Who, me?”
“Certainly she means you,” Magnolia said with a snort. “Who else? I certainly wasn’t engaged to Kent Monroe.”
Odelia forced herself to laugh brightly, hoping that it didn’t sound as stilted as she feared. “I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not our house that caught fire.”
“You just seem…not yourself lately,” Hypatia observed gently.
“Not yourself,” Magnolia agreed.
“If having Kent Monroe here is disturbing to you—” Hypatia began.
“It could be dyspepsia,” Magnolia pointed out brusquely. “You remember how Mother suffered with dyspepsia. It put her all out of sorts.”
“—we could always offer to put them up in a hotel,” Hypatia went on, sending Magnolia a speaking glance.
“I’m not dyspeptic!” Odelia insisted, turning on Magnolia. “I’ve never had digestive difficulties in my life.” As her waistline must surely demonstrate, she thought morosely.
“Well, of all of us, you’re most like Mother,” Magnolia argued defensively.
Plump, she means, Odelia thought. Perhaps she ought to pay a bit more attention to what she ate, she decided, mumbling, “My digestion is fine.”
“It’s certainly not unrequited love,” Magnolia commented, chuckling. “Not at our age.”
Odelia frowned and batted her eyelashes against a sudden welling of tears. She might be past the age of romance, but surely she should not be past the age of caring about her weight, if only as a matter of health. Abruptly, she wondered what Kent thought about her rounded figure. He had once declared her the very model of slender femininity, but what did he think now? Had age and indulgence robbed her of all appeal?
Closing her eyes, she told herself not to bring Kent into this, not even mentally. Obviously, to her shame, she needed to pray much more diligently about her personal lapses, and so she would. Meanwhile, she’d be boiled and peeled before she’d give in to this nonsensical emotional confusion.
Mentally centering herself, she heard Hypatia say, “I understand that new hotel out on the highway is quite comfortable and even offers kitchenettes. If we phrased it delicately and prepaid, say, a month’s rent, I doubt that either Kent or Ellie would take offense. We could always—”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Hypatia!” Odelia snapped, popping open her eyes. “There is no polite way to turn someone out of your home when you have already offered them shelter and have more than ample accommodations for them.”
Horrified at this uncharacteristic harshness, Hypatia drew back, her eyes wide.
Beside Odelia on the settee, Magnolia drawled, “I think she should see a doctor.”
Embarrassed, Odelia considered placating her sisters by agreeing, but then she thought of Brooks Leland, the family physician, and knew that he was far too astute not to see that her problem was emotional and spiritual rather than physical.
Fighting for an even, melodic tone, she said, “I don’t need a doctor. I just need…” she looked to the windows at the front of the long, rectangular room “…sunshine.” Rising to her feet, she continued, “I need sunshine. And fresh air. Spring. I’m so very tired of winter. I need a dose of spring.” Making a beeline for the foyer, she decided that she would take an overcoat from the cloakroom and let herself out the sunroom door. “If you need me, I’ll be in the greenhouse,” she told her sisters. Praying, she added silently.
Perhaps then she could put aside these ridiculous longings and dreams, for such foolishness should be the purview of the young. What need had she of love at this late date, after all? It wasn’t as if they had time for children or growing old together. They were already old, she and Kent.
Too old.
Nothing promised such new possibilities as a Monday morning. At least, Ellie had always thought so. She loved the early-morning tranquility and neatness of her classroom, the moment of sublime peace before the children began to arrive, bringing their happy chaos with them, but Monday mornings were the best. As such, they always seemed ripe for prayer, but especially this particular Monday morning.
She’d mulled the problem of Asher Chatam all weekend without finding a solution, and now, as she read over her morning’s devotional, she wondered why she had not simply taken the matter to God. As the author of the devotional reminded her, God knew everything to be known about the whole situation anyway, even more than she did.