His heart twisted painfully in his chest. “True. But, honestly, I’m ready whenever He is.”
Jon smiled and nodded. “Amen, brother.”
Ken stared at Jon for a second. “Man, I really like Daisy. Can’t get her out of my mind since our date. What’s going on with her?”
Jon shrugged. “Go find out.”
Wondering if he should eat quickly then cancel his one o’clock meeting, he nodded. He would go find out.
Tomorrowwould start her seventh week of pregnancy. Daisy skimmed through the website about the baby’s development. It had a head and face. Tears filled her eyes at the idea that someone with a good enough microphone could detect the baby’s heartbeat. She glanced through the symptoms that she should feel right now and felt like she could just use the list as a checkbox for everything she had experienced. Only morning sickness wouldn’t get a check, and she figured she ought to feel thankful for mild nausea.
She needed to find a doctor, but she just didn’t know where to start. If she asked someone for a recommendation, that would begin the notification of her pregnancy. Could she handle that yet?
Maybe she could find a doctor based on online reviews.
She sighed and said out loud to herself, “You need to put your shoulders back and just talk to someone. Find a young mom in church and deal with the stigma.”
Would they allow her to continue to teach at the church? Years ago, in one of her father’s older churches, a woman had made a public confession of a sin, and a leader in the church subsequently asked her to sit out of the praise team for a time. She remembered her parents having long conversations regarding that decision.
She shut the lid of her laptop and closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. “God, I did not behave in the manner that I know is right. I didn’t act in the way in which I was taught. It’s worse that I let myself be manipulated. But regardless of his actions and his sin, I was wrong with him from the beginning. Please, forgive me.”
Since it was Friday, she had the entire day off of work. Intentionally setting the laptop aside, she rummaged through a drawer until she found a notepad and pencil.
Upstairs and into the spare bedroom, she looked at the never used desk. Originally, she’d run the charity out of this room. But when she moved into the strip mall, the desk in here gradually became the catch-all for the fringes of her life that had no place to go. Bags of Christmas gifts she didn’t know what to do with, books she’d ordered but not read yet, winter clothes that never made it into boxes—all piled on top of each other. With a heavy sigh, she contemplated the amount of work she needed to put into this room to make it a nursery and the amount of energy she just didn’t have right now.
Using the pencil, she opened the lid of the notebook and started writing things down:
Crib
Dresser
Changing table
Diapers
Suddenly overwhelmed, she thought maybe she’d tackle it another day. As she pulled the door shut, the doorbell rang. Coming down the stairs, she saw Ken through the door’s window. Her heart started skipping. She’d canceled their date tonight and successfully put him off from setting another one. Why was he here?
Since her car sat in the driveway, she didn’t think she could get away with not answering the door, so she took a deep breath, steeled herself, and opened the door. He wore a golf shirt with the Dixon Contracting logo on the left chest and khaki pants. He looked fresh and crisp compared to her yoga pants, purple tank top, and messy bun.
“Ken, hi. What are you doing here?”
He smiled a half-smile that made her pulse skitter and asked, “May I come in?”
She stepped back and opened the door wider. “Of course.”
He didn’t speak again as he came into the house. She shut the door behind him and followed him into the living room. He sat down on the couch and looked at the coffee table in front of him.
“Would you like something to drink? I have some lemonade.” He shook his head and tapped his knee with his thumb. She took the chair across from the couch. “Is everything okay?”
His hand paused, and he looked at her with serious eyes. Finally, he asked, “Did you have a good time the other night?”
She thought about the elegance of the meal and the conversation that flowed and the way he looked and smelled and… “Definitely. It was one of the best nights of my life,” she answered with sincerity.
“I did, too. I thought we hit it off really well. To be honest, I didn’t want the night to end.”
With a wistful smile, she looked down at her hands and realized how tightly she gripped them. She intentionally relaxed. “Me, either.”
“But you don’t want to go out again?”
