The Earring

Book 2 Part 5

Faith put down the journal and got up to fix a cup of tea. She had brought her small electric teakettle with her. Reading about April's made her crave pie and tea. She didn't have any pie, but tea was always good. As she waited for the kettle to heat, she thought about the wedding plans. The date was only ten weeks away. She was going to have to decide whether she was ready to marry. She couldn't leave Aaron standing at the altar, and she had a lot of plans to change if they canceled the wedding or even delayed the date to give them more time to work things out.

She was once again reminded of lemon deserts by the whistle of the kettle. She had asked April to figure out a way to make a lemon icebox wedding cake. The resultant fluffy, lemon-flavored angel food cake with lemon icebox filling and lemon icing was divine. Syd and Faith had a private tasting the week before her mother's death. The creation was to have its debut at the wedding.

Faith picked up her cell phone and pulled up the 'toy' Aaron had sent. While sipping her tea, she stared at the picture of her wearing a wedding veil and Mama's earrings.

"When I get home I'll only have nine weeks left before the wedding," she said to her likeness. "I will have to decide what to do. I'm leaning toward telling Aaron we need to delay the wedding."

She walked to the window and put her hands on the glass. She shouted at the empty street and silent antique shops below, "I need more time to sort things out."

"Are you a Don Quixote descendent tilting at your own private windmill?" Jasper's voice echoed in her mind.

"This is no windmill," Faith said. "It's a freakin' nuclear plant."

"I'll be better equipped to decide what to do after I talk to Kyra tomorrow," her mind offered the assurance.

#

The summer before our move to New Orleans Seminary was bittersweet. Our goodbyes were the bitter. We made a lot of good friends in a short time. I understand why most jobs only require a two-week notice. Once you look towards a different future, you become inefficient while you're stuck in the job you're leaving behind. Protracted goodbyes are also emotionally draining.

The sweet was the fellowship we found after renewing our commitment to God. Mt. Zion was gracious and loving. God used them to encourage David as he struggled each week to put together a sermon. David and Daniel forged a deeper relationship as theological discussions dominated their time on the golf links. David and I sang the summer away with a gospel quartet, filling in for members who were vacationing.

The plan was to work through the third week of August, saving a nest egg to tide us over until one or both of us found jobs. Two weeks before we were to pack up our lives and head to seminary, we got a phone call from Nicole, David's Mom, summoning us to the bedside of her dying mother. Maw Gilbert had only days to live.

The phone call came at 1 pm. David headed to the U-Haul place while I frantically began to pack. I had the boxes, but almost nothing was in them. I was always prepared on time, but rarely a minute early. Daniel called and offered to help. I suggested that he stay home and watch the kids and send his wife, Cindy, to assist. She was preparing her family for the trip, though. They had three small children. Evidently she wanted Daniel out of her hair. I dispatched Daniel to a friend's house with our German shepherd. We couldn't have a dog and live on campus. The friend had already agreed to take him when the time came; it just came a few weeks early. By 9pm we had everything packed.

We left for Louisiana that night. Daniel and his family were to follow a day later. Their daughter would be home from camp the next afternoon.

We were fortified for the journey with a huge thermos of coffee, this despite the fact that I was a 'tea totaler.' To say that I despised coffee is putting it mildly. Even the smell of coffee was an anathema to me.