“I thought”—John spoke slowly, as if maneuvering his way through a minefield—“that you enjoyed your privacy and liked having friends and family over for holiday decorating and activities. How are you going to do that if you have people in your home for weddings?”
“I agree.” Hope exchanged a look with John. She had mixed emotions about their shared solidarity in opposing this venture.
“It would only be for a select few.” Verna carelessly waved a hand. “It wouldn’t be one of those ‘come one, come all’ kind of things.”
“Do you have a couple in mind?” Hope asked. “Is that what prompted your decision?”
“No.” Verna took a bite of chicken, then delicately wiped the edges of her mouth with a linen napkin. “But I’d like to start this year.”
What was her aunt thinking? December was two months away. If they wanted to do this right, that didn’t give them much time.
Now wasn’t the time to go into the particulars, but Hope intended to speak with her aunt about this scheme soon.
She lifted a piece of chicken that had somehow found its way onto her plate and took a bite. As the delicious blend of spices melded with the succulent meat, she realized she hadn’t asked John where he planned to live.
“Have you given any thought to where you’ll live?” Hope asked. “I’m sure you’ll want your privacy.”
She recalled that much about him. That meant there was zero chance of him wanting to live under Verna’s roof for more than the few days it would take him to get settled.
“I wanted John to stay in the house with us,” Verna said. “It would be wonderful having him here again. Despite my begging, he said no.”
A smile began to form on Hope’s lips.
“So I offered him the carriage house.”
They’d renovated the apartment over the carriage house last year when Verna had thought about renting it out. But then she’d reconsidered, not sure if she wanted someone she didn’t know living so close.
“It’s perfect.” Verna’s voice reverberated with excitement. “All that space was going to waste. And John will be able to use the carriage house for his art.”
“The space isn’t that large.” Hope knew she was grasping at straws, but a sick panic had begun to rise from her belly.
“True,” John admitted. “But it’ll be big enough.”
Hope’s eyes met his and she couldn’t look away. It was as if his eyes were the ocean and she was once again being drawn from the shore to that spot where she would be in over her head. “What are you saying?”
“I’m taking Verna up on her offer. I’ll be moving into the carriage house. Like I said before . . .” Those brilliant blue eyes held a hint of challenge. “I’m here to stay.”
Hope was grateful John didn’t accompany her and Aunt Verna to Sunday services. The moving van hauling his work equipment and a few personal items had arrived shortly after the family dinner last night, and he’d been “busy” getting settled.
Though John had always prayed with them before meals and usually attended church services with them around the holidays, Hope wasn’t certain where he was on his faith journey. Frankly, she didn’t care.
Perhaps that wasn’t very Christian of her, but right now the only thing she had to be thankful for was that he wasn’t going to be staying in a bedroom down the hall. On the same property was bad enough.
For now she was determined to keep her distance. She wasn’t ready to talk about their ‘maybe’ marriage yet. That’s why, when John had turned down Aunt Verna’s invitation to the soup supper this evening, she’d abandoned her plan to spend a quiet evening at home.
“Earth to Hope.”
Hope blinked and realized Chet had maneuvered them into the soup line while she’d been lost in her thoughts. The event in the church basement was to raise money for a youth mission trip. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“You look especially lovely.” Actually, with his stylishly cut blond hair and all-American good looks, Chet was the lovely one. He had a face made for campaign posters.
“Thank you,” Hope said, surprised by the compliment. “I love your new shoes.”
“Ferragamos,” he said with a pleased smile, and she felt her heart warm.
Chet had been extra charming today. As if trying to make up for breaking their Saturday night date, he’d sat with her and Verna during church this morning, then asked if she’d sit with him at the soup supper this evening.
At the time, she’d told him she didn’t think she would make it. That was before she knew John was staying home. She wasn’t surprised Chet planned to attend. Such an event was prime campaigning territory.
“I’m happy you decided not to wear jeans.” His palm rested lightly against the small of her back. “It’s important for a woman to look like a lady.”
It wasn’t the first time Chet had said something like that, and she’d always let it slide. “You have something against women wearing pants?”