Chapter 25
Abigail surveyed the clothes in her closet. She should dress up for work, right?
She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to decide if that was what the flip-flop of nerves was about—or if it was about seeing Simeon.
He’d been quiet ever since their appointment with Everlee the other day, but then yesterday, after church, something had seemed to shift between them. In a good way, she was pretty sure.
They’d gone to his dad’s for lunch and then they’d taken a walk around their neighborhood, and he’d made a delicious dinner and they’d watched a movie—and not once had he mentioned what they used to do or asked if she remembered something.
She knew it was hard for him, acting as if they weren’t married—she had seen his eyes go to her ring finger more than once—but she was so grateful that he was willing to try. It gave her hope that maybe they could start over, like Everlee had suggested.
She lifted a peach short-sleeved dress off a hanger and pulled it on, then ran a brush through her hair. She surveyed the results in the mirror. Based on what Ruth had been wearing when she and Simeon stopped at the Book Den on her birthday, the outfit looked work-ready. She ran a hand along her bare collarbone, which thankfully no longer caused her pain—not even the dull ache she still felt in her ribs most of the time. But her neckline looked bare. She glanced at the two jewelry boxes on the dresser—the new one Simeon had given her, and the old, slightly worn one that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to open yet. It felt too private.
She ran her fingers lightly over the top of both.
“Abigail?” Simeon’s voice traveled up the stairs. “Are you ready?”
Abigail pulled her hand back and turned from the jewelry box. She’d go without a necklace.
“Coming.” She sucked in a quick breath and forced her feet toward the stairs.
Simeon stood at the bottom, and the way his face lit up when he saw her made her heart do a funny little jump-step.
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She started down the steps toward him. “I wasn’t sure if this was appropriate for work.”
“It’s perfect.” Simeon stepped aside to let her pass. She headed for the kitchen, where he already had a cup of coffee waiting for her. “Thank you.” She took a sip, glancing around the room.
“What do you need?” Simeon asked.
Abigail bit her lip. She didn’t like this feeling of not knowing her own routines. “Am I supposed to bring a lunch or something?”
“You can.” Simeon hesitated, but then said in a rush, “But I was thinking—do you want to go to lunch with me? You know, like a date?”
Abigail felt her lips lifting at the sweet nervousness in his tone. “I’d like that.”
His return smile brought a wash of warmth to her cheeks, and she wondered if this was how she’d felt the first time he’d asked her out. But it didn’t matter. She would focus on enjoying the feeling now.
“I suppose we’ll have to get you a new car one of these days,” Simeon said as they made their way to the SUV parked in the driveway.
“If I even remember how to drive,” Abigail said wryly.
“I suspect it will be much like knitting,” Simeon said. “You’ll probably still have the procedural memory to do it. And if not, I’ll teach you. We can have driving dates.”
He opened her door for her, and a fresh batch of nerves took over as she watched him round the vehicle.
He got in, took one look at her, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Abigail tried to swallow. “What if I mess everything up? Or I hate it? Or—”
“Abigail.” Simeon’s fingers landed, light as a bird, on her hand. “You’re not going to mess everything up. And if you hate it, you’ll quit and find another job. Whatever you want to do.” He held eye contact with her until she nodded.
He lifted his hand off hers and started the vehicle. She wrapped her own hands around each other, but it wasn’t as comforting as his touch.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Simeon asked a few minutes later, as he pulled into the parking lot behind the store. Sunlight blinked off the river at the far side of the lot, and couples and families already strolled along the riverwalk. The whole scene had a quaint, peaceful air that made Abigail feel at home.
“That’s okay.” She hoped her smile looked confident. “I’ll be fine.” She opened the door and got out slowly, careful not to turn too quickly and strain her ribs.
“Don’t forget, you promised the doctor you wouldn’t lift anything heavy.” Simeon leaned across her seat, his brow lowered into lines of worry.
“I won’t,” Abigail promised. She reached to close the door.
“Abigail, wait. I—” Simeon cut off, his eyes fixed on hers. Finally, he blinked and looked away. “I’ll see you at lunch. Twelve o’clock?”
She nodded and closed the door, glancing back to return his wave before she stepped into the building.
Simeon let out a long breath as Abigail disappeared into the bookstore. “Please bless her day, Lord,” he whispered.
He backed out of the parking spot and headed for his office, trying to sneak a peek in the front window of the store as he passed. But he didn’t catch a glimpse of Abigail.
She’ll be all right, he reminded himself. Ruth would take good care of her. And he’d see her in a few hours for lunch. Anticipation loosened the tightness in his chest, and he opened his window, letting himself pull in a breath of the fresh—if humid—air. Bright flowers bloomed in large decorative planters in front of the various storefronts, and sounds of birds and laughter hung in the air.
Simeon let his tension release a little more. Maybe Abigail’s accident wasn’t about what they’d lost. Maybe it was about what they’d gained—a new beginning.
He pulled up to his office and jumped out of the vehicle, glad suddenly to be back at work. He’d spoken to many of his clients on the phone over the last few weeks, but it was always better to sit with them in person. He’d only lined up a few appointments for today, since he had plenty of administrative stuff to catch up on, but it would be good to get back into a routine.
Three hours later, as he ushered a couple out the door, Simeon had to rethink that. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be here or that he didn’t care about his clients. It was just that he’d spent an hour this morning refereeing a couple’s argument over the division of chores.
The issue wasn’t trivial, Simeon knew that. The majority of couples he saw started out with arguments like this—seemingly small things that reflected bigger underlying issues.
He blew out a breath, reminding himself that Jesus cared about even the smallest of problems—and it was his job to do that too.
Fortunately, it was time to pick Abigail up for lunch. He’d texted earlier to ask how things were going, and she’d replied with a cheerful, if brief, “great.”
He remembered when she’d first gotten the job at the bookstore and he’d picked her up for lunch and she’d spent the whole time telling him about the books she’d discovered or the weird requests customers had made. He tried to push those memories away so he could go into today’s lunch with no preconceived expectations of her.
He moved to his desk to grab his keys and wallet, trying to decide if they had time to go to the new pizza place outside of town or if they should stick to Murf’s. Probably Murf’s. Maybe he’d ask if she wanted to go to the pizza place Friday night.
It seemed so odd to be planning dates with her again, after her months of reluctance to leave the house for anything but work.
See, a new beginning.
He turned and strode out of the room, pausing to lock the door between his office and the lobby as an extra line of security for the sensitive records inside.
The exterior door chimed, and a woman’s voice sang, “Hello, hello.”
Simeon’s shoulders tensed at the interruption, but he forced a smile as he turned. “Hi, Wendy.”
She was on his list of clients to contact tomorrow to set up an appointment, so at least this would save him the phone call.
“I saw your vehicle and thought I’d see if you have time to talk.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I’m on my way out for lunch, and I’m already booked for the afternoon. Does Friday work for you?”
Wendy bit her lip. “Actually, I really need to do this right now. Before I lose my nerve.”
“Lose your nerve?”
“Remember how I was telling you there was a guy I liked, last time I was here?”
Simeon nodded. “It was someone who’d been in your life for a while, right? Did you decide to tell him how you felt?”
Wendy licked her lips. “Sort of. I mean, I’m telling him right now.”
“Over lunch?” Simeon smiled. Seemed he wasn’t the only one with a lunch date. “You’ve considered the risks?”
Wendy shook her head. “Not over lunch. Right now, right now.”
Simeon glanced around the lobby and then out the window, in case the guy was waiting for her outside, but there was no one. A rock slid from his heart to his stomach.
She meant—
“It was you,” she confirmed, then gave a self-conscious laugh. “I feel pretty stupid about it now.”
“It’s nothing to feel stupid about,” Simeon said gently. It certainly wasn’t the first time it had happened. It was easy for some people to mistake the care of their counselor for more, especially if they’d lacked genuine, caring relationships in the past.
“Embarrassed then.” Wendy covered her face.
“No need to be embarrassed either,” Simeon reassured. “We can work through this. It might even help us pinpoint some of your relationship issues.”
“You’re not going to fire me then?” Wendy’s eyes went wide and hopeful.
“Fire you? Of course not.” Simeon shook his head. He’d only had to dismiss one client ever—and get a restraining order.
Fortunately, he couldn’t foresee that happening with Wendy.
“So Friday, then?” he asked. “How about eleven o’clock?”
“Oh, that would be great.” Wendy nodded, and Simeon quickly put the appointment into his phone, then led Wendy to the door. He was already late for his lunch with Abigail.
“I have to tell you,” Wendy said as Simeon locked the door behind them. “I’m so relieved.” She touched a hand to his arm, but Simeon brushed it off and moved toward his vehicle.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” he said as he opened his door.
“Okay, then I won’t worry.” She waved, then moved to her own black SUV, right next to his. Simeon motioned for her to back out first.
He waited until she’d driven away to pull out of his own spot.
He’d told her not to worry.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
He had his hands full trying to figure out how to make his wife fall in love with him. The last thing he needed was a client who already had.