wresting Chase from Cyd. “How about this? I’ll take Chase to his da-da, and you go with Steph. In no time, you’ll be wishing she was still here in St. Louis bombarding you with emergencies.”
“I know, right?” Stephanie said.
Cyd gave them both a look.
The sisters walked out of the activity center. “Okay, what’s the emergency?” Cyd said.
“I need to know if I’m crazy for going through with this move.”
“I knew it.” Cyd stopped in the hallway outside the center. “Yes. You are. Crazy for asking the same question week after week.”
“No, it’s really hitting me right now.” Stephanie smiled at a couple just arriving. She lowered her voice. “I think we’re making a mistake.”
“Why?”
“Because.” Stephanie pulled her farther down the hall. “Lindell and I are leaving St. Louis where I’ve lived all my life—not to move to Chicago or DC or someplace else that makes sense, but to Hope Springs. I mean, when I say it I sound crazy. Why would I move to a little country town in North Carolina? Who does that?”
“You’re doing it. Tomorrow.”
“That’s not funny.”
“And Janelle did it last month when she moved from DC,” Cyd said.
“Yeah, but she’s got an excuse for her crazy. She’s in love.”
Stephanie and her cousin Janelle had cared for their ailing grandmother in Hope Springs earlier in the year while Lindell was in Haiti. Stephanie had been excited that God put it on both her and her cousin’s hearts to relocate there. She’d also been excited that they’d be near another cousin, Libby, who lived in Raleigh. But now . . .
“Ever since Grandma Geri’s funeral,” Cyd said, “you and Lindell felt like God wanted you to do something different. You prayed and asked everybody and their momma to pray, even Pastor Lyles, which I’ve never seen you do.” Cyd had moved from momma to exhortation mode. “And you both felt this was your answer. I understand the cold feet, but I just know God is leading you. Even if it feels crazy.”
“It’s more than cold feet. My heart is so out of rhythm, it might be a warning. What if we move to Hope Springs, and that’s not what God was saying? That would be tragic.”
Cyd almost laughed. “Oh, stop it. You had a great time down there.”
“The two months I spent there were great, because I got to know Grandma, Janelle, Libby, and other family. Living there is another story. We’ve got more people in our church than they’ve got in the town.” She started pacing. “I can’t believe I told Lindell to do that fleece thing.”
“I meant to ask where you got that idea,” Cyd said.
Stephanie paused with pursed lips. “Where do you think I got it? Bible study.”
“What Bible study?”
“My personal Bible study.”
“Really?” Cyd smiled. She’d been encouraging Stephanie to study her Bible for years. “I didn’t know you were doing that.”
“Well, don’t get happy. I didn’t think the fleece thing would work.”
“And not just ‘work,’” Cyd said. “It was more than Lindell could’ve hoped.”
Lindell had said chances were slim that he’d find something near Hope Springs since so many medical practices were downsizing or closing. But Stephanie suggested the “fleece” of contacting Dr. Richardson, a doctor in the little town who’d cared for many in her family. One call led to another, which ultimately led to an interview and an offer for Lindell to join a practice in nearby Rocky Mount. But they could only accommodate him part-time—which turned out to be perfect. Their church family at Living Word was making it possible for him to travel to Haiti one week per month as a medical missionary.
Stephanie sighed. “I just don’t know why we took that as the sign we should go. Maybe it was meant to show us what’s possible here. Surely there’s a practice in St. Louis that would allow him to work a part-time schedule and travel to Haiti.” She threw up her hands. “But noooo, we ran with it before we had any idea what I would be doing in Hope Springs.” She gave her sister a pointed look. “Why did you let me do that?”
“Why did I . . . ? You’re the one who said it seemed clear.”
“But you should’ve told me to wait until all the pieces were in place. I don’t have a job yet, and we’re moving tomorrow.”
“Steph, you don’t have a job here, you haven’t in years.” Cyd’s eyes softened. “What’s the real issue? The small town, lack of a job . . . or