The Wonder of Your Love - By Beth Wiseman Page 0,25
settled in her chair, the table was close enough to reach her hand lotion, the remote for the television, and the phone without even having to stretch a muscle.
She stared at the empty space a few feet away where Elvis’s cage used to be. It had been almost a year, but she sure missed that bird. Sometimes she could still hear him saying her name. She tapped her fingernail on the hard surface of the table next to her. That parrot should have outlived Martha, but the Lord had seen fit to call her beloved Elvis home. She’d thought about getting another parrot, but it just didn’t feel right.
Closing her eyes, she thought about Arnold. Why did you take him too, Lord? Her close friend and companion didn’t go home to see the Lord, but instead went to Georgia to be with his dying son. How could Martha fault the man for that? But she sure missed him. They exchanged the occasional letter, and Martha had sent flowers when his son passed, but Arnold had decided to stay on in Georgia instead of returning to Canaan. He had kinfolk there, and he’d reestablished those relationships. Martha was glad for Arnold. He deserved to be happy.
She thought back a couple of months to when Arnold had asked if he could come for a visit. As much as she’d missed him, she made up an excuse for him not to come. She just wasn’t sure her heart could take another good-bye. Easier to just leave the past in the past without stirring up old feelings. But after her appointment with the doctor today, she had the strongest urge to call Arnold. Part of her wanted to share her news with him, but she feared Arnold would feel obligated to hop a plane to see her. She didn’t need his pity.
Laying her head back against the recliner, she thought about Katie Ann. She sure hoped that Eli Detweiler would fall madly in love with Katie Ann. Her friend needed someone to take care of her and Jonas, and clearly Martha wouldn’t be around forever. She opened her eyes, placed her hand on the telephone, then tapped her finger on the table again.
She picked up the phone, and this time she managed to dial nine out of the ten numbers before she placed the telephone back in the carrier.
“Oh, why not,” she said aloud as she picked up the phone again. She dialed the numbers quickly, knowing that once the phone rang once, there was no turning back. Arnold was a nonprogressive man—as anyone would know by looking at his outdated clothes and truck—but even he had caller ID.
Her heart raced as the phone rang a third time, then a fourth, and she was about to hang up when she heard the soft, gentle voice of a man she still loved.
“Hello, Martha.”
“Hi, Arnold. How are you?”
“Still missing you.”
Martha put a hand to her chest and closed her eyes as she pictured Arnold’s kind face. The man made her want to be a better person, and he’d introduced her to the Lord, something she’d always be grateful for. “How’s the weather there?”
“Chilly. But not as cold as in Colorado, I reckon.”
There was silence for a moment, and Martha struggled to keep her voice in check as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Temperatures dropped last night. They say it will be mighty cold by Thanksgiving.”
“What are your plans for the holiday?”
“Oh, I’ll be with Katie Ann and Jonas. Probably at Lillian and Samuel’s house. What about you?”
“My son’s wife invited me to Thanksgiving at her folks’ house, and a cousin of mine invited me, but . . .” He sighed. “I think I’ll probably just stay home.”
“Now, Arnold Becker, I’ve never known a man to love turkey as much as you do. It’s not right for you not to have any on Thanksgiving.” Martha realized that she was hinting toward an invitation and quickly backtracked. “But I guess it’s your choice.”
“How’s your back?”
Arnold always asked about Martha’s back, even though most of the time it was fine.
“Feeling pretty good.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I have to go. I was just checking on you.”
A long silence ensued, but Martha was choking back tears and afraid to speak. Finally Arnold did.
“I’m fine, Martha. As I said, I’m just missing you.”
Well, if you cared about me half as much as I care about you, you wouldn’t have stayed in Georgia. She’d wanted to say it a dozen