Our Story: What Is Going On?

To start at the beginning of the story, see Our Story: Introductions.  Second installment, see Our Story: Rescued.  Third installment, see Our Story: A Long Wait. Fourth installment, see Our Story: First Sight. Fifth installment, see Our Story: Just a Hint.


What Is Going On?
Anticipation, Suggestion, Uncertainty


“I do know that waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one’s thoughts.”
― Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity: Learning to Bring Your Love Life Under Christ's Control

  
 Following the white chocolate episode, I was on pins and needles. 

Was it nothing? 
Or was it something? 

A few quiet days passed.

After church the following Saturday, Ben's dad Ed saw me in the bookstore. 

"Do you know anything about moving plans?" he asked.

"Umm, no, I don't believe so," I said, not sure what he was talking about. But then again, there had been a lot of moving plans lately.

"Oh, I didn't know if Ben told you about the moving party at Nathan and Laura's house tomorrow. I don't know who all will be there, but you could come for lunch at 2pm," he said.

"Oh, okay, sounds good," I said. A moving party, sounded safe enough.

So, on Sunday after tear-down, I drove to Nathan and Laura's house for lunch around 2pm. Ed was there, and little one-year-old Gwyn. And Nathan and Laura. That's all.

Trying to appear nonchalant, I played with Gwyn and read her a book. Mid-way through the book, there was a commotion in the stairwell, and up came Ben. (He had no idea I would be there.)

It was a quiet lunch of taco casserole and family reminiscing. No one seemed to think it odd that I was sitting there for the conversation, and no one seemed in a great hurry to do whatever moving needed to be done. 

Shortly before I had to leave to set up the Shepherd Leader's Meeting, they got to work, moving a queen bed from one room to another. I carried a pillow.

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 The following weekend, my parents came to town. On Friday, my mom and Karin Livingston and I went out for lunch together to one of my favorite coffee shops. 

As we chatted and ate, Karin said to my mom casually, "Don't worry, any guys who are interested in Amy have to talk to David."


"Actually," she continued, "there was a young man who talked to David this week." (News to me.)

She went on, "The Chocolate Man." (Whoops. Hadn't mentioned the white chocolate incident to my parents yet.)

"He's a good guy, very good with his little niece, a servant. He needs a full-time job, and a little haircut." 


That night over supper at Applebees, I filled my parents in on the few odd occurrences of the past week or so. 

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We dropped my mom off at the airport, and Saturday night, my dad met Ben at church. The Messengers were handing out flyers for their upcoming dramatic production as people entered the sanctuary, dressed in their white sweatshirts and sweatpants.

After church, Dad and I had supper at Davanni's.

"I'm impressed," he said. "You can tell a lot from a person's eyes."

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There was a One Another gathering that Sunday evening (One Another was the somewhat short-lived singles ministry at church). I chatted with one of my small group ladies, Beth, and she invited me to play volleyball with some people (Ben included, incidentally) on Monday and Wednesday mornings at Hope Academy.

Since I played volleyball in high school, I showed up the next morning a little after 7, had fun, and tried to make it most Mondays and Wednesdays after that. 

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The Messengers group was in the midst of productions. 

They traveled to Canada for a long weekend, and I found that the days dragged by and I agonized unreasonably over Ben's absence. Very unreasonably, considering that the status of our relationship was ... nothing. 

We still didn't really talk at length, saw each other only in passing here and there, and had never had any conversation whatsoever about any personal relationship.

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Monday, April 2 (the day after Ben's birthday) I was at work. My phone rang, and it was Ben, calling with a few work-related questions.

After talking a couple minutes, he closed, "Hey, want to come to dinner tomorrow night at the O'Neals with my mom, Laura, and Gwyn?"

"Oh, um, let me check about changing a meeting with a friend, but I think I can come. Can I bring something?" I said.

"Why don't you bring brownies, and I'll bring ice cream," he said. And he gave me directions to the O'Neals.

(Aha, I thought. Not a date.)

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 Tuesday I was jittery for a few different reasons. It was First Tuesday Fast, so I was running on empty by the end of the day. 

After work I had a really difficult, really intense meeting with a friend to confront some lifestyle choices she was making. It was a gut-wrenching discussion. By the time it ended and I gripped the steering wheel to drive to the O'Neals, nerves were getting to me. 

My feet and legs were shaking so badly that I could barely press the gas pedal.

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The O'Neals are a delightful family and had adopted Ben to be their own "big brother." Besides being in Messengers together, he also came over for dinner with their family very regularly. Katie, Erin, Keith, and Amy were the children at home, and they were definitely close with Ben.

Ben's mom and her dog Bubba were visiting (Meri-Kay was between assignments to Nepal and Kenya). Laura and Gwyn completed the party. Dinner was a casual affair, and afterward we chatted and finally pulled out a game to play.

"Like It Or Lump It" it was called, and the devious spirits of those around the table were in full swing by the time Ben took his turn.

Everyone handed him a card from their hand (with impish grins), which he then had to organize in order of personal preference, with points going to the person who "read" him best and had the card selected as personal favorite.

Ben surveyed his cards, pondered, muttered under his breath, deliberated far longer than was comfortable, and carried on a running commentary about his options. I could feel my cheeks burning.

Finally, he slid them into his rank of preference:

Perfume.
Corvettes.
Hammering Nails.
Love Songs.
Volleyball.
Walking in the Rain.
Falling in Love.

My only defense was to feign total ignorance and strike up a conversation with whomever was sitting on my left.



After more games and much more conversation, the party finally disbanded. It was 11:15pm when Ben walked outside with me. I dusted the snow off my car while he stood in the middle of the street.

"It's slick; drive carefully," he warned.

Just as I was about to climb into my car, he said, "It was a lovely evening," he spoke very deliberately, "And I'm really enjoying getting to know you."

I drove away, all the crazy moments of the day playing loudly in my mind.

Well, I mused, at least I know what's going on. We're "getting to know" each other.