“Could you…” She took a breath and looked hard at him. “Could you really fall in love with someone who doesn’t share your faith?”
“Well,” he said with a smile. “I guess the answer is yes because…I already have.”
She exhaled, a mix of relief and sorrow. “Eli…”
He stepped closer and took her hand. “Kate, I think about you when I wake up. When I fall asleep. When I see a beautiful sky, or hold that baby, or sit at my desk or take a bite of food. You’re becoming as much a part of my fabric as…as God is.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining but unreadable. “I feel exactly the same way.”
His smile wavered. “I sense a ‘but’ on the end of that declaration.”
She tipped her head in concession. “But I’m not going to wake up one day and start believing just because it would make things easier between us.”
“I know,” he said.
“And I don’t want to change you either. Your faith is…honestly, it’s beautiful. But I can’t fake something I don’t feel.”
“I don’t want you to fake anything.” He reached for her, pulled her close, and kissed her—long, deep, slow. When they pulled apart, her forehead rested lightly against his chin.
They stood there for a long time, waves brushing their ankles, the sun dipping close to the horizon. Then they walked back toward the Summer House, quiet but close, as Eli thought about the immutable fact he had to face.
He was falling in love with a woman whose heart didn’t match his own—and no matter how much he wished faith alone could bridge the gap, some divides could be too big and too wide and too far to cross.
Was this one? He didn’t know but, like always, he had to trust God.
“Okay—backpack, water bottle, emotional baggage…you got it all?” Meredith eased the baby out of Jonah’s arms with a sly sisterly smile as she helped him out the door the next morning for his second day of classes.
Jonah rolled his eyes as he gave Atlas to her. “You rehearse that one?”
“Nope,” Meredith said, stroking the tiniest fuzz-covered head that ever existed. “Came to me in the moment. It’s called talent.”
He gave a snort and bent down to tie the laces on his battered sneakers, the kind he'd worn since high school. Meredith swayed Atlas a little, the move freakishly instinctive. The baby let out a delicate coo, then settled against her like he belonged there.
Jonah straightened up and looked over at them, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You look like Mom on the first day of school. Minus that blinding pink robe she wore.”
“The breakfast robe,” Meredith said on a laugh. “I can still see her standing in the driveway when we walked to the bus stop, waving like she was sending us to war.”
“And packing us breakfast burritos that exploded in our backpacks because she couldn’t figure out how to wrap them tight enough.”
“She was better with the morning pep talks than the food prep.” Meredith shifted Atlas and nearly melted at the way he shuddered when he sighed. “‘Today is a fresh start,’” she mimicked their mother’s chirpy tone. “‘Go in there and show the world what Lawson kids are made of.’”
“We’re made of burritos, Melissa Lawson.” Jonah grabbed Meredith’s keys and jangled them. “Thanks for the wheels, and the babysitting service.”
“You’re so welcome,” she said, and meant it. “Everyone is off doing their own thing today, and Dad said I’m officially on a PTO day.”
“Have you ever taken one of those in your life? Not that watching my kid while I’m in my first full day of kitchen lab is a vacation.”
“It is for me,” she said, stroking Atlas’s head. “I get to be a world-class auntie, and don’t tell me I can’t do that mountain of laundry I saw in your room.”
He paused in the act of sliding his backpack on, his gaze locked on her with love in his eyes. “You’re so much like her, you know that?”
She knew exactly who he meant.
“She loved a good load of laundry,” Meredith said on a laugh.
“She loved…being a mom.”
The words made her heart feel like it was folding in half. “She was quite good at it, too.”
