The Lucky One(83)

Standing in the bathroom, she was doing her best with the curling iron, though she suspected that in the rain, all would be for naught. After a brief respite the day before, the first of the two tropical storms that were expected had entered the area.

“I think it’s time you start being honest with me. You don’t just like him. You think he’s the One.”

“I’m not that obvious,” Beth said, not wanting to believe it.

“Yes, you are. You might as well be sitting on the front porch picking petals off a daisy.”

Beth grinned. “Believe it or not, I actually understood that metaphor.”

Nana waved her off. “Accidents happen. The point is, I know you like him. The question is, does he like you?”

“Yes, Nana.”

“Have you asked what that means?”

“I know what it means.”

“Just making sure,” she said. She glanced in the mirror and adjusted her hair. “Because I like him, too.”

She drove with Nana toward Logan’s house, worried that her wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain. Seemingly endless storms had swelled the river; though the water didn’t quite reach the street, it was almost lapping at its edges. A few more days of this, she thought, and roads would begin closing. Businesses closest to the river would soon be stacking sandbags to prevent water from ruining low-lying merchandise.

“I wonder if anyone is going to make it to the church today,” Beth remarked. “I can barely see beyond my window.”

“A little rain won’t keep people away from the Lord,” Nana intoned.

“It’s more than a little rain. Have you seen the river?”

“I saw it. It’s definitely angry.”

“If it gets any higher, we might not be able to make it into town.”

“It’ll all work out,” she declared.

Beth glanced across at her. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Aren’t you? Since you stayed out all night?”

“Nana,” Beth protested.

“I’m not judging. Just mentioning. You’re an adult and it’s your life.”

Beth had long grown used to her grandmother’s pronouncements. “I appreciate that.”

“So it’s going well? Even with your ex trying to cause trouble?”

“I think so.”

“Do you think he’s a keeper?”

“I think it’s a little early to even consider something like that. We’re still getting to know each other.”

Nana leaned forward and wiped at the condensation on the window. Though the moisture disappeared momentarily, fingerprint smudges remained. “I knew right away that your grandfather was the One.”

“He told me that the two of you dated for six months before he proposed.”

“We did. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have said yes earlier. I knew within a few days that he was the one for me. I know how crazy that sounds. But being with him was like toast and butter from the very beginning.”

Her smile was gentle, her eyes half-closed, as she remembered. “I was sitting with him in the park. It must have been the second or third time we’d ever been alone, and we were talking about birds when a young boy, obviously from out in the county, wandered up to listen. His face was dirty, he didn’t have shoes, and his clothes, as ragged as they were, didn’t even fit him. Your grandfather winked at him before going on, as if to tell the boy he was welcome to stay, and the boy kind of smiled. It touched me to think that he didn’t pass judgment based on the way the boy looked.” She paused. “Your grandfather kept on talking. He must have known the name of every kind of bird in this part of the state. He’d tell us whether they migrated and where they nested, and the sound of their calls. After a while, this young boy sat right down and just stared as your grandfather made everything sound . . . well, enchanting. And it wasn’t just the young boy. I felt it, too. Your grandfather had this soothing, lullabylike voice, and while he talked, I got the sense that he was the kind of person who couldn’t hold anger for more than a few minutes, because it just wasn’t in him. It could never grow into resentment or bitterness, and I knew then that he was the kind of man who would be married forever. And I decided then and there that I should be the one to marry him.”

Despite her familiarity with Nana’s stories, Beth was moved.

“That’s a wonderful story.”

“He was a wonderful man. And when a man is that special, you know it sooner than you think possible. You recognize it instinctively, and you’re certain that no matter what happens, there will never be another one like him.”

By that point, Beth had reached Logan’s graveled drive, and as she turned in and approached the house, bouncing and splashing through the mud, she caught sight of him standing on the porch, dressed in what seemed to be a new sport jacket and a pair of freshly pressed chinos.

When he waved, she couldn’t suppress an ear-to-ear smile.

The service began and ended with music. Nana’s solo was greeted with hearty applause, and the pastor singled out both Logan and Nana, thanking Logan for filling in at the last minute and Nana for demonstrating the wonder of God’s grace in the face of a challenge.

The sermon was informative, interesting, and delivered with the humble recognition that God’s mysterious works aren’t always understood; Beth felt that their gifted pastor was one of the reasons membership in the church continued to grow.