Chapter 17 #2
I slipped into my coat and stepped outside to wait for his truck. A snowstorm had hit last night, and there were three feet of snow piled up on the sides of the roads, but they’d been plowed and were drivable. When he pulled up, I walked over to the car and opened the door.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” he said with a bright smile, handing me a mug of hot chocolate that had been resting on his center console. It was teeming with whipped cream.
“That’s a lot of whipped cream.” I grinned, shutting the door and buckling in.
“Only reason I drink hot chocolate. Just like the only reason I eat salad is to have the ranch dressing,” he declared.
I barked out in laughter, my mood instantly brightening. This was a good idea. Seth was funny and light-hearted. Just what I needed.
“Truth,” I told him, holding out my mug. We clinked glasses.
He started to drive away, and I settled in, watching the snow fall on the windshield before it was whisked away by the wipers.
I sighed in contentment. “Maggie’s baking up a storm?”
“Yeah. She treats Christmas cooking like an Olympic sport.”
I laughed.
“Sad you missed your flight to see your mom?” he asked as he turned down a rural road I hadn’t explored yet.
I nodded. “Christmas in Paris would have been wonderful, but this is pretty nice, too.”
“How’s the pregnancy going? Any more morning sickness?”
“Here and there, but nothing like in the movies. I was expecting a lot worse.” And thank God for that because I wasn’t sure I could take an awful pregnancy.
“Great news,” Seth said.
I didn’t want to pry, but I wanted to get to know Seth better, so I decided to ask a personal question. “If it’s too painful to talk about, I understand, but I was wondering what your late wife’s pregnancy was like.”
He nodded, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly then. He’d said he lost his wife and his unborn child, but I didn’t really know what had happened.
“Hard to say what was from the pregnancy and what was the cancer. Scarlett got diagnosed with both in the same week.”
My stomach plummeted. “I’m so sorry.” Scarlett. It was a beautiful name, and I’d had no idea she’d died of cancer while pregnant. How awful.
“That’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.” His fingers relaxed, and he offered me a small smile.
“How far along was she when she passed?” I prodded a little more.
“Twenty-two weeks. Before the gestational age of viability.” He sounded like he was quoting a doctor, and he probably was.
I shook my head. “And you didn’t lose your faith through all that?”
He turned down another road, and I noticed a bunch of colored lights up ahead.
He peered over at me as if really looking into my soul. “Some people run from God when things get dark, and there’s no shame in that. I ran to Him. It was the only thing I could do to survive it. He kept me from drowning in the grief.”
My throat tightened with emotion, and a stray tear slipped down my cheek as I batted it away.
What he’d said was beautiful, and I wished I could be that type of person.
The one that had run to God and fallen on my knees when I’d heard of James’s death.
I wasn’t. And now, I didn’t know how to find my way back.
I sipped my hot cocoa. “Mmm, this is yummy.” Time for a topic change.
“Swiss Miss. Microwaved it myself.”
I laughed again. “Scarlett spoiled you, didn’t she?” The man didn’t even know how to make proper hot chocolate.
He nodded, grinning. “She did. Never let me in the kitchen unless it was to clean up. Made everything from scratch. She was a chef and owned her own catering business.”
“That’s cool. I guess I haven’t really figured out what I want to do yet, as silly as that sounds.”
“Hey, you work for me,” he reminded me.
I smiled. “Yes, but I don’t see myself being an assistant forever.”
“Well, what else would you like to do?”
I thought about it. Before James died, I’d thought I’d just be a stay-at-home mom and wife and help manage our hobby farm.
I had dreams of maybe having a small farm stand with goat cheese and eggs and whatever else I grew in the garden, but that wouldn’t be enough for a family to survive on.
Not now that I was a single mother with a baby on the way.
I sighed. “You know what? Being an assistant is just fine.”
He chuckled, but I saw a sad smile cross his face.
I gasped. “Up ahead.” I pointed to the string of lit-up homes in the distance.
Seth grinned. “Candy Cane Lane. The best Christmas lights in Willow Harbor.” He fiddled with the tuner on the radio, and a Christmas song blared out of the speakers just as he turned down the lane.
There were tons of cars, and it took me a second to realize that all the lights on the street were pulsing to the beat of the music.
“Okay, that’s cool,” I told him.
There was a small makeshift stand up ahead with a lady dressed like an elf standing inside the kiosk.
Seth drove right up to it and rolled his window down.
“Merry Christmas, Seth!” the woman with the auburn hair trilled.
“Merry Christmas, Helene.”
She handed him two chocolate chip cookies, and he gave one to me.
“As usual, we’re asking for donations for the children’s hospit—” She stopped mid-sentence when Seth pulled a hundred-dollar bill out and shoved it into the jar on her counter.
Helene beamed at him. “God bless you.”
“And you,” he told her and then rolled up his window.
That was generous. I kept looking for a fault in this man and couldn’t find one.
My mom always loved to say, “You will know them by their fruit,” when speaking of a fellow believer.
She was right. And Seth was about the most fruitful Christian man I’d ever met.
Patient, slow to anger, generous, and full of faith.
All the things I used to be. It made me sad to think of the “before James died” version of me and the “after” me.
We drove slowly down the street, watching the lights blink on and off to the music, and something settled over me. A calmness that hadn’t been there since before James died. A feeling that everything might just be alright.
“I’m grateful for you and Maggie,” I said suddenly. “I’m not sure what I would have done if I’d been all alone this whole time.”
Seth beamed at me, and my stomach flipped over as a rush of nervous butterflies took flight in my belly. He was very handsome when he smiled. “I’m grateful for you too, Ella.” His tone was serious, and I swallowed hard and leaned back into my seat.
We were both in a reflective silence for the rest of the drive home. When we pulled up to my house, the driveway was covered in snow.
“I’ll shovel that for you.” Seth threw the car into the park and jumped out.
“No, I can do it—” But he’d already jumped out of the car and opened my door for me. “It’s fine, really,” I told him.
He shook his head. “Maggie raised me right, Ella. I’m not letting a pregnant woman shovel snow. Especially not in those pajamas.”
I laughed. “What is wrong with my pajamas?”
He grinned. “Nothing. They’re great, so I don’t want you to get snow on them.”
I playfully rolled my eyes. “I gotta learn to take care of myself at some point. You’re going to shovel my snow the entire winter?”
He nodded. “You betcha. Gotta keep my figure.” He rubbed his stomach.
I’d lost track of how many times this man had made me laugh. “Well, I guess I can’t say no, can I?”
“Afraid not,” he said and offered me his hand.
I took it, his warm fingers clutching my palm as I hopped out of his giant truck. I slipped a little when I hit the ground, but he was there to steady me.
I slipped my arm into the crook of his elbow, and he walked me to my door.
“Thanks for this. It was nice,” I told him and opened my door, releasing his hand.
Honey was there to greet me, bagocking and pecking at my fuzzy socks as I removed my boots.
Seth shook his head. “Chicken with a diaper,” he mumbled.
“I’m a proud monthly member now. I get all the new release prints,” I told him and pointed to the Christmas tree cloth diaper Honey had on now.
Seth belly-laughed, and the sound made the whole house feel brighter. “You crack me up, Ella.”
“Likewise,” I told him.
“See you tomorrow at four p.m.? Unless you want to go to church with us in the morning. The Christmas service Pastor Jake does is always the best.” He stepped away from the door and grabbed the shovel I had leaned against the porch.
I was not ready for church. Not because I was still mad at God. I mean, I was, but my heart had softened in that respect. A little. Now, I was ashamed. Ashamed I’d so easily turned my back on God. Mad and ashamed, and I didn’t just know what to do about it.
“See you at four. I’ll bring a pie?”
He nodded, only a trace of disappointment crossing his face that I’d said no to church. “There’s a blind taste contest. Maggie always wins,” he warned me.
“Sounds like a challenge.” I raised one eyebrow.
He laughed and then started to shovel the walkway as I bid him good night and closed the door.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to let God back into my heart just yet, but I had to admit that it felt like the Lord had placed Seth in my life for a reason.
Chopping the wood, blowing out the sprinklers, winterizing the farm for the animals, and now shoveling snow.
Seth was taking up all the slack James left behind.
All except the emotional void that I was quite sure no man could ever fill again.