Today's Reading
"Want to talk about it?" Tracy asked.
Nikki thrummed her fingers on the cup sleeve. She shook her head.
"Want to scream about it?"
A small smile tweaked her lips. "Kinda."
"I would too. Think your mom knows about that?" Tracy gestured toward Nikki's phone.
"Not sure."
"Hopefully she doesn't find out through social media."
"She's been off it for a while. We both have. Ever since—" The rest of that sentence tasted too sour.
"Since the truth came out," her friend finished.
Nikki nodded. That day had been the heaviest of her life.
"You can't do anything about his choices," Tracy said. "Only your own. And I suspect this summer is going to be filled with bright and glorious choices for you. Especially with a certain beau." She winked, a clear diversion to other topics. To Isaac.
The throbbing behind Nikki's eyes speared into her chest. It happened every time he came up. Like the pain her mom felt had suddenly transferred to her. "We don't know that Isaac is going to propose."
Tracy peered at her over the rim of her glasses. "Don't we?"
Nikki pulled her cup closer. "It's not a guarantee, anyway."
"Do you want him to?"
"Yes," she replied a little too quickly.
Tracy tilted her head to the side in that tell-me-more posture she had perfected.
"I do love him. And I have thought of us being married. But..."
"But it's a lot on top of a lot?"
"Yeah."
"Have you told Isaac this?"
Nikki shifted in her seat. "No."
Tracy reached over and cupped Nikki's hand. "Probably a conversation to have sooner rather than later. Men are the worst when it comes to mind reading."
"You'd think they'd evolve past that."
"You'd think." Tracy chuckled and glanced at her watch. "Nearly time for the circus to descend. Let's get you fully caffeinated and reasonably cheerful." She raised her cup for a toast. "To summer."
Nikki grinned, tapped her own cup against Tracy's, swallowed another fortifying drink. But the depths of her soul remained as clouded as the sky.
Billow and roll.
* * *
Weeks had passed since his brother had answered any of his calls, but that didn't stop Wes Werner from dialing Chris's number again. "A brother is born for a time of adversity," Proverbs 17 taught, and if what Aunt Emma said she saw on social media was true, his kid brother sank deeper every day. The spiral was evident even from Wes's vantage point clear on the opposite side of Missouri.
Had Lydia seen the photo? Had the girls?
The divorce was barely a month old.
He placed the phone to his ear and stepped out onto his front porch. The midmorning sun coaxed melodies from the winged singers in the century-old oak tree at the edge of the yard, a source of endless adventure when he and Chris were boys. The gentle slopes of the Werner farm rolled into the distance.
The other end of the line rang. And rang. Ignored.
Voicemail picked up. Again.
Wes filled his lungs and held the air in place as he waited for the beep. He prayed the words would come with at least moderate coherence and grace.
Beep.
"Hey, Chris. Wes. Think about you every day. And your family. Spoke with Aunt Emma. She told me you and, uh, Sheryl? Is that right? That you all moved to Oklahoma and you're about an hour from her." He paused. "She also said you may have...bigger news. Hoping we can talk. Give me a call."
As soon as he hit the red End button, more words rushed to his lips, a half minute too late.
I want you to be happy—and whole.
I love you.
My heart is heavy.
Words that would be unheard by anyone other than God. At least until—unless—Chris called him back.
* * *
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