Page 65 of It's Always Been You
She grins. “I’m still praying for you two.”
“Thanks.” She winks, then bends to give Teddy a hug and a kiss goodbye. “Hey, Mom?”
She glances up from zipping up her coat. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“What do you think . . . about the idea of me asking Evie out on a date?” I’m surprised by my own question. I don’t think we’re supposed to be together. That’s what it feels like God has been speaking to me, at least.
But . . . I can’t deny that I want to be with her. Badly. And I didn’t treat her fairly last time. I never had the courage to take her out, to be seen with her in public—for fear of running into Jamie, more than anything else. Evie and I went from zero to one hundred practically overnight, so I never got to do all the things you’re supposed to do when you care about a woman—like treat her to a nice meal or hold her car door open. I never got to hold her hand or kiss her goodnight on her doorstep. I yearn to do all of those things now, to make up for the past.
Mom grins sadly, tilting her head. “Honey, you are so sweet.” I grimace. I shouldn’t have asked. “But I think it’s too soon.”
I nod, undeniably crestfallen. She steps closer and cups my cheek in her hand as Teddy runs circles around the kitchen island. “Give it to God, sweetheart. Trust Him with your love life, just like you trust Him with everything else. In the meantime, just keep being patient with her and praying for her.”
“Right.” I catch Teddy on his next circuit and throw him up in the air. Not the answer I was hoping for, but still—undoubtedly the right one. I’m being impatient. Teddy throws his head back in laughter, and I pepper kisses on his chin. “Thanks for the reminder.”
She kisses my cheek. “I love you, son. And I know you love Evie. If it’s meant to be, God will work it out, okay?”
“I know.”
But what if it’s not meant to be?
***
As I’m tucking Teddy into bed for the night, I’m mentally drafting the text I plan to send to Evie. I fine-tune the message while I’m brushing my teeth, stripping off my clothes, showering, taking out my contacts and replacing them with glasses. I select the driest-sounding non-fiction book I can find—one that I know will make me drowsy—and climb into bed.
Only then do I open up a blank text.
After all that thinking, the best I could come up with was:How’d the date go, Spitfire?
It takes me fifteen minutes to work up the courage to hit send.
While I wait on a response that will probably never come, I pull the letter she wrote to me out from my bedside table. I regret how I handled things with Cora this evening, and I’m feeling like a crappy dad. Cora’s harsh words replay in my mind as I open Evie’s letter.You chose not to marry me, Brandon. If you had, you’d have all the time in the world you wanted with Teddy. But you didn’t, so he’s with me on Christmas Day.
Yes, Ishouldhave married Cora. Everyone told me so, and I thought long and hard about it. I decided it was the right thing to do. I even went out and bought her a ring. At the time, I reasoned that if we got married, Teddy would grow up in a home with both of his parents. But, in the end, I never went through with asking for her hand. I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me. Yes, Teddy might have grown up in an unbroken home if we’d gotten married, but not necessarily ahappyhome—one filled with genuine love and laughter. And that’s what I want for my son. What I had. Two parents who loved God, each other, and their house full of children.
At least, that’s what I want for himnow.
But back then, within the deep, dark, selfish crevices of a heart that didn’t yet know the love of Jesus Christ, I couldn’t fathom committing my life to just one woman. The idea of “settling down” was so far down on my list of priorities that it was almost laughable. I liked having no skin in the game. Always had. And if the woman I was “seeing” only wanted to be friends with benefits, well—even better.
And at the time, I wanted all the rewards of a relationship with a woman without any of the actual risks involved. What’s ironic is that I never considered the greatest risk of all—pregnancy. Bringing an innocent life into the world—and into a messy situation that lacked genuine love and devotion.
Was it selfish of me to choose not to marry Cora? Yes. The whole world let me know that, especially my mom and my sister, Dana, who have both been Bible-believing Christians for a long time. But, clearly, I’m prone to being selfish. Sadly, I’ve made my bed, and now I must lie in it. I deserve every insult, accusation, and unreasonable reaction Cora hurls my way, and that is precisely why I put up with all of it.
Evie wrote this letter to me shortly after Teddy was born, when she knew I was having a hard time adjusting to being a single dad. My thumbs caress the page as I reread the words that have encouraged me and given me hope in some of my darkest hours.
Evie has always had a way with words.
Brandon,
Things might be difficult for you right now, but look at what you’ve done! You and Cora made a beautiful baby boy—one who holds your likeness, and, hopefully, one day, your kindness, compassion, intelligence, and strength. Nothing else matters as long as he’s happy and healthy—and he is. He’s utterly perfect, Brandon. Plus, he will only be this little once. Cherish him, hold him close, and remember that you will sleep through the night again. One day. I promise.
In the meantime, I am here for whatever you two need. Meals? You got it. A pep talk? Coming right up. Diaper changes? Just set me up at the end of his changing table. I’ll sleep there if I have to. I am at your beck and call, always.
I chuckle softly to myself. She really meant it, too. She was there for me whenever I needed her. And I needed her . . . often.
And, last but not least, please remember that you are a wonderful brother, friend, son, and doctor, and you can now add father to that list! Teddy is the luckiest little boy in the whole world to have a daddy like you. I know you will do everything in your power to make his childhood the very best it can be.
Love, Your Spitfire
