you first met Sam …” she began. Heidi and Sam had just begun seeing each other when Beth met her; they’d now been married four years.
“When I first met Sam,” Heidi repeated. “Did I know I was going to fall in love with him? Is that what you want to ask?”
Beth blinked. That wasn’t exactly it, but close enough. “Yes.”
“The answer is no. In fact, I thought he was a total nerd. I mean, could you imagine me married to an accountant? I found him so fussy and detail-oriented, I couldn’t picture the two of us together.”
It was remarkable. Heidi, her fun-loving, easygoing friend attracted to a bean counter. Yet as far as Beth could tell, they were completely happy in their relationship. They were so different; Heidi was slapdash and impulsive and, as she’d said, Sam was the opposite. But where it truly mattered—their feelings about marriage and family, for instance—their values were the same. Recently, with Heidi’s encouragement, Sam had joined a couple of his friends in a new business venture. Their firm, specializing in forensic accounting, was doing well.
“It wasn’t like that with John and me,” Beth murmured. “When we first met, I was sure we were the perfect match.” She swallowed hard. She didn’t know why she continued to do this—torturing herself with the details of her failed marriage. All it did was remind her that she simply wasn’t any good at relationships.
“John was a long time ago.”
This was Heidi’s gentle way of urging her to stop dragging the past into the present, and she was right. Sitting up straighter, Beth squared her shoulders. “I think I might have met someone.”
That immediately sparked Heidi’s interest. In the last five years, she’d frequently tried to introduce Beth to available men, mostly colleagues of Sam’s. Beth had declined each and every time. “Who did you meet? Where? When?”
“We met online.”
Her friend instantly brightened. “You signed up with one of those Internet dating services?” Heidi had suggested this approach months earlier—advice Beth had strongly rejected.
“No, we met … I mean, we haven’t really met. We’re partners in an online computer game.”
“That war thing?” Heidi wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Beth nodded. “We teamed up in World of Warcraft last June. But I know next to nothing about him, other than the fact that he lives in Seattle.” Even as she explained this, Beth realized it wasn’t true. Peter was decisive, a characteristic she admired in a man. He was thoughtful, too. The two of them worked well together in the landscape of the game, anticipating and complementing each other’s moves.
“Then find out more,” Heidi urged. “Contact him outside the game. Meet him for coffee or something.”
Beth shook her head. “I couldn’t do that,” she said automatically. And yet she had to, didn’t she? Unless she was prepared to disappoint her mother for the thousandth time.
“Why couldn’t you?” Heidi asked, genuinely perplexed. “You said you’ve been partners for … what? Six months. Make up an excuse. Tell him you want to discuss battle strategy and you’d prefer to do it in the real world.”
“But … he might think I’m hitting on him.”
Heidi smiled. “Well, aren’t you?”
Her friend had a point. “Not really,” Beth mumbled but it was a weak rejoinder.
“You want him to meet your family, don’t you?”
That was a nerve-racking subject. She decided to tell Heidi the whole story, how all of this had started with her mother’s phone call. As she spoke, she concluded hopelessly that inviting him to Christmas dinner was impossible. Actually bringing him would be worse. Then again … it might work if there was an understanding between them. But she couldn’t figure out why Peter would agree to such an arrangement. He had his own family, his own obligations without taking on hers. No, she couldn’t ask him.
On second thought, he might understand. He’d said his family was after him to get a life. Perhaps they could join forces the way they had in World of Warcraft. Combine their efforts.
Still …
“For all I know he could be fifty, living at home and unemployed.” There, it was out—Beth’s biggest fear. Of course, Peter could be wondering the same thing about her. “Or—” an even bigger fear “—he could be married.”
Chewing her sandwich, Heidi didn’t respond for a moment. “The only way to find out is to ask,” she said reasonably.
“He might think I’m—”
“What? Available? Beth, you are available! Okay, so you made a mistake in judgment. It happens, it’s too bad, but it isn’t the end of the world!”
“Should I tell Peter right off?” she asked uncertainly. “About my divorce?” This was her other worry—how much to say and when. She was afraid that once they did talk, she’d compulsively blurt out her entire relationship history. After two minutes, her prospective Christmas date would flee for the border.
“Don’t lie,” Heidi advised.
“Should I be evasive?”
“Don’t overload him with details in the beginning. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Right.” It seemed ridiculous to be discussing this when Peter hadn’t even agreed to meet her yet.
“You do like what you know about him, right?”
Beth considered the question, then nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s the important thing,” Heidi assured her.
Beth nodded again. All she needed to do now was take that first step.
Goodness sighed as the veil between Heaven and Earth slowly closed, blocking the angel’s view. She turned to Gabriel, and he could see that she was waiting for him to comment.
“Beth’s ready,” he said emphatically.
“And Peter?”
“He’s ready, too.”
“He isn’t fifty, living with his parents and unemployed, is he? Or … married?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, he’s single and he has a good position at the home office of Starbucks. He’s doing well financially and is popular with his peers.”
“Just like Beth.”
“Beth’s resisted opening herself to love,” Gabriel said. As for this new relationship—well, there were a few facts yet to be uncovered, facts Goodness would have to learn on her own.
“Beth needs to be taught that she’s capable of falling in love again,” Goodness murmured.
“Yes,” Gabriel said, encouraging her as much as he dared.
“Peter might not be the one, though.”
He wasn’t sure what Goodness had against the young man. “That’s not up to us,” he said sternly.
“Right.” Goodness folded her hands. “I’ll do my best to steer them toward each other. After that, they’ll have to work it out for themselves.”
Gabriel squinted at her. She sounded as though she was reciting something she’d memorized. “I’m relying on you,” he reminded her. “You need to be very clear about your own boundaries. You’re there to help them, Goodness, to give them a nudge—not to push them into each other’s arms.”
“I won’t let you down,” she promised.
Gabriel sincerely hoped that was true. Just as he was about to expand on his concerns, another urgent prayer request