“Of course, Aunt Harriett. Who is it you’d like me to pray for?”
“It has to do with…one of the women at the church.” Harriett averted her gaze. “You might know her. Ruth Darling.”
“Mrs. Darling…oh, of course.” Jayne perked up instantly and sounded positively delighted for the opportunity to pray for the older woman. “I know Mrs. Darling. She’s such a dear heart. A month or so after I brought Suzie home from the hospital, Mrs. Darling spent an entire afternoon watching the baby so I could rest. It meant the world to have those few hours to myself. She’s always been so kind and generous. She isn’t ill, is she?”
To hear her niece, the woman was a candidate for sainthood. “As far as I can tell, Ruth’s in the best of health.”
“Is everything all right with her husband? I think Fred is one of the nicest men I know.”
This was the avenue that Harriett had been waiting to open. “I fear there are problems brewing with Fred and Ruth,” she said. “It’s for the two of them that I’m seeking prayers.”
“Oh dear, what’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid it’s Ruth,” Harriett said, hoping her words would show her niece exactly the kind of woman Ruth was. She squared her shoulders at the pure distastefulness of her disclosure. “Ruth has a roving eye.”
“A roving eye?” Jayne repeated as if it were a medical condition. “What do you mean?”
“Have you met Mr. Fawcett yet? He’s a widower who recently moved to Seattle and started attending church. He’s been visiting for several months now. Tall, good-looking man.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Harriett, I can’t place him.”
“He sits on the right-hand side of the church, about halfway up in the middle of the pew.” One would think her niece would notice such a strikingly handsome man. “Ruth’s eyes have been roving in his direction, if you catch my drift.” That was all she would say. Jayne would soon see for herself that Harriett had cause to be worried for her friend.
Jayne frowned. “Are you saying that Mrs. Darling is romantically interested in Mr. Fawcett?”
Harriett stiffened her spine. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m here to tell you that this woman you regard so highly is flirting with sin. I can see it plain as day. Just watch her, Jayne, and you’ll know exactly what I mean.”
“I’m sure you’re mistaken, Aunt Harriett.”
It didn’t help that her own flesh and blood sided with the other woman. “I know what I see, and Ruth Darling has her eye on Lyle Fawcett. Trouble’s brewing. Mark my words, Jayne. Mark my words.”
“Aunt Harriett—”
“The only reason I’m sharing this deep spiritual burden God has placed on my heart,” she continued, cutting Jayne off, “is so that you’ll take it upon yourself to pray for the dear, weak woman.”
“You want me to pray about Mrs. Darling’s roving eye.”
“Exactly.”
“Have you shared this prayer request with anyone else?”
Harriett wasn’t sure she liked her niece’s tone of voice, but she gave her the benefit of the doubt. “A few carefully selected…friends.”
“Aunt Harriett!”
“You will pray, won’t you?” Harriett set the teacup in the saucer, glad now that she’d said her piece.
“Oh yes,” Jayne murmured, “and while I’m at it, I’ll say a few prayers for you!”
Chapter 21
To forgive is to set the prisoner free and then discover the prisoner was you.
—Mrs. Miracle
“Your Aunt Gerty and Uncle Bill arrive late on the twenty-third,” Joan Maxwell said, stabbing a large pink shrimp atop a seafood Caesar salad. “Then they’re leaving the morning of the twenty-sixth for Hawaii. I can’t tell you how excited those two are. To hear your aunt talk, one would think they were newlyweds. Gerty says this is the honeymoon trip World War Two cheated them out of.” Reba’s mother’s delight overflowed at the prospect of her aunt and uncle’s arrival.
“It’ll be good to see them again,” Reba said. Her aunt and uncle were favorites of hers. They lived in the Midwest and now because of her uncle’s poor eyesight didn’t travel much. It had been three years or longer since Reba had last visited with them.
“Aunt Gerty is anxious to see you.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing her, too.” Her aunt had always made her feel special. It was her godmother who’d stood staunchly by Reba’s decision not to marry John, at the same time recognizing her hurt and pain. Her reaction had been a blessed contrast to those of the other members of her family. Her parents had offered platitudes that it was all for the best. The best for whom? Reba had wanted to know. For her? It hadn’t felt that way, not then.