Katherine

Though it was only an hour drive to the airport, you could've told me it was a lifetime and I would've believed it. At least Monday evenings were relatively sparse going north, so the ride was quiet, if you could stomach Grace's angry tears and Andrew's attempts to calm her down. Matthew had remained silent almost the entire ride, but he spoke up finally.

"We're gonna miss you down here, Grace," he said. She started at his voice, and I saw them make eye contact in the rear view mirror. "We'll send you pictures, if we can."

That started another round of sobs and tears, and only Andrew could understand what she grumbled then. She waved for him to speak. "She says she wants to see you again." His face twisted like he was tasting something particularly bitter. "Not just pictures of the wedding, but be there." The embarrassment seemed to make Andrew's cheeks flush in the flash of the headlights of passing cars.

Matt and I shared a glance.

Although we talked a lot about the wedding, there was still a few details up in the air. We had the venue, the catering, the arrangements. Matthew was the one in charge of the invitations. We'd made a list of about fifty people—how many of them had RSVP'd?

I had my choice of people to come—old friends from college, people from church, and even a few teens from Wayward that were friends were Erland so he wouldn't be alone the entire time—and Matt had his. Mostly his family, he said, and some people he was thinking about.

He gave me a look as if to say, It's up to you.

I swallowed, throat dry. If I invited Grace, she would need to come down again. And though she'd gotten away with it once without her parents knowing, a second time would not be so lucky. And... what if I invited them all? Oh, but seven people would be too many... And I promised Andrew that I wouldn't say anything to his—my—our father.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, glancing back at Andrew and Grace. "We can't."

Andrew's face softened with relief, though Grace's angry tears started again. "Thank you," he mouthed.

I was tempted to say something else to offer comfort to Grace, but what could I say without lying to her? Instead, I spent the rest of the drive praying for her. That God would look out for her. Help her to find peace in Him through knowing Jesus. Maybe she already did know Him, but that she would be reminded and that she would find comfort there.

When we pulled up to the airport, Matthew and Andrew got out to get the bags. I turned around and made eye contact with Grace. "Hey."

She scowled.

"Hey." I held out my hand. She took it. "I know this is hard, Grace, but goodbye doesn't always mean the end."

"How do you know?" She sniffled.

"I though the same thing once." I let out a breath. "And it made me very angry and very mean to those around me, my family, those I loved. But God has a way of working things out for us, just trust Him."

Andrew tapped on the glass and Grace pulled her hand back. I was left in the car alone. A few moments later, Andrew tapped on my glass and I rolled down the window.

"You'll send me the receipts, right?" He looked like he was really bothered at the thought that I might not.

I didn't like the idea, but I could respect it. "Yep, I'll send them to you in a few days."

He nodded. "Thank you, Katherine."

"Thank you."

He stepped back and waved before moving up to Grace and starting their way into the airport. I wondered how they would travel, but Andrew assured me that he had swiped Grace's passport from his parent's safe before coming down. And she had written permission to travel to arrive at the reformatory school, which is where she would be going now. Such a bright young girl, the thought of her being around more hardened individuals made me worry.

But, as if sensing the train of my thoughts, Matthew wrapped his hand around mine and squeezed gently. "What're you worrying about now?" He shot me a sideways grin that always melted my defenses.

"Everything." A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. Warmth seeped into me through Matthew's light grip, though it felt like I really had turned to ice. "Why can't things just be simpler?"

"You're not the only one who thinks that, Kat." Matt pulled out of the airport arrival lane, eyes glued forward. "But we aren't promised an easy life. Jesus said that rain falls on the just and unjust alike."

"This feels more like hail." I untangled my hand from Matthew's. "And it all goes back to Gramps. He must've done something to make my fa—Jonathan run away from Mom."

Matthew shrugged. "Could be. Though, if I remember right, you did tell me your father had it out for you and your mother. Maybe he already had an idea of what happened?"

I couldn't remember Dad being anything other than quick to anger, like a tight-rope made of thread. He did always have a soft spot for Erland, though. "Maybe." My head throbbed.

"Andrew was right." Matthew's gaze shot to me at my words. "Watch the road," I said, and he reluctantly pulled his eyes away from me.

"He was right to keep it a secret from his family." From my family. "I don't have time for that right now."

"Will you ever have time?"

"What do you mean?" I glanced sharply at him.

"I mean that, yes, right now, we're getting married, Erland is graduating, your mother is recovering, and your grandfather is being attacked. But what about a year from now? We can't guess how life will go." He sighed. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Kat, and I think you made the right decision, but I worry you'll put this whole thing far away and never do what you know you really want to."

"I should put this aside." I crossed my arms, watching the cars now as they passed on the highway. What good would come of this? I surely couldn't see it. Maybe in a year or so... or maybe when Gramps is safe... maybe then I could reach out to Andrew, ask about meeting Jonathan.

But even if my answer was different then, would Andrew be the same? He didn't want his family torn apart, shaken. Maybe that did extend to forever.

The rest of the ride was silent, and only when Matthew had put the car in park before the house did he turn fully to me now. The worry in his features caught me off guard and I sat upright like a zing of electricity had shot through me.

"Kat, I love you."

"And I love you," I said, letting out a little laugh as my heart fluttered. "Are you making your vows right here?"

He grinned. "No, just preparing you to hear something you might not like." His lips turned down again to seriousness. "I'm going to ask you this, but I don't want you to answer to me. Think about it. Pray about it."

"Okay." I nodded, feeling prickles up and down my arms.

"Are you keeping silent becase you want to or because you think it what you're supposed to do?"

I sucked in a breath, but Matthew silenced me by pressing his palm to my cheek. "Remember," he said, "not now. This is between you and God. Sometimes, you may have to make decisions other people don't like, but the most important thing is being in God's will."

My hand went up over his, and I turned my face, pressing a kiss to the smooth warmth of his palm. His other hand went to brush a hair from my face, but it lingered along the curve of my jaw. His clear blue eyes sought mine, a silent storm brewing in their depths.

"Pray about it. Find peace about it." He leaned forward, his lips brushing mine for a moment. "And promise me one thing."

My heart drummed so loud in my ears I almost didn't hear him, but I nodded. "Anything."

His fingers untangled from my hair, and he leaned back, grinning sheepishly. "Don't delay the wedding. We can deal with anything else—even Erland having to repeat high school all over again—but I don't think I can take another two months away from being with you."

My face flushed hot at that. Matthew, the well put-together lawyer, had come undone. His button-down shirt was ruffled, and I could almost see his heart beat in the rise and fall of deep breaths.

"I—Don't worry—Matt—"

He grinned. "Good. Nice to see I have the same effect on you as you on me." He pressed a button, releasing the door locks. "I have to get home. I'll call you later?"

I nodded dumbly, stepped out of the car. Only after I had made dinner with Erland and Mom, gotten ready for bed, and was turning down the lights in the room that I would one day share with Matt that I remembered Matthew's words.

Are you keeping silent because you want to or because it's what you're supposed to do?

Even though I was already in bed, I got out and knelt. The hardwood was cold through my pajamas, but I bowed my head and prayed.

"Lord Jesus, I really need your guidance in this. You have pulled me out of the miry clay of my own making, set me up here, but I still feel like my path isn't set. I don't know what circumstances made my father leave my mother, but I'm grateful that you brought Grace into my life. She's a sweet girl, and—" my voice cracked "—and I hope one day to get to know her better. Know them all better."

My mind flashed with thoughts of a father to walk me down the aisle, faceless and unknown but strong and tall. A father to go out to lunch with, share stories, laugh about the past. A father that I had a chance—a fleeting opportunity—to know.

I shot up from my post on the bed and snatched my phone from the bedside table. It rang and rang.

At last, Matthew's groggy voice answered. "Kat, everything okay?"

My heart drummed in my ears, and I couldn't hold back the excitement—or was that fear?—bubbling in my chest. "Yes."

"Then I'm going back to bed—"

"Do we have any extra wedding invitations?"