Waiting for Morning (10 page)

“I think that’s why God’s so good to me.” Hannah had smiled pleasantly. “He knows I’m not good at forgiving.”

Through childhood and many of her early teenage years, Hannah was a flat-chested pixie with delicate, cornflower blue eyes, unremarkable features, and gangly arms and skinny legs. The only thing striking about her was her thick, wheat-colored blond hair, which got in the way when she played sports. Hannah thought it was more of an inconvenience than anything.

Tom, however, was a strapping boy with a muscular physique long before he hit his teen years. He had a ruddy complexion, short dark hair, brilliant teasing blue eyes, and a knack for making Hannah laugh out loud. In many ways, Tom was the brother Hannah had always wanted.

They never talked about themselves in any romantic sense, even as they grew older. But Hannah was in no hurry. They had always been together, and they always would be. She wasn’t sure how Tom felt, but each night she prayed that when the time was right, Tom would ask her to be his wife. She could not remember a time when God hadn’t answered her prayers exactly as she had prayed them, so she had little concern regarding her future with Tom.

When Tom turned sixteen and began dating the majorette from the high school drill team, fourteen-year-old Hannah was not terribly concerned. She was still in middle school, still dressing and acting and looking like one of the boys. She figured her relationship with Tom was bound to change when she turned sixteen and was granted permission to date. That was when she and Tom would fall in love.

Instead, when Hannah turned sixteen, Tom made a decision to attend college at Oregon State University in Corvallis. His father had graduated from OSU, and the family had relatives nearby. Tom would need to leave immediately after graduation because Oregon State had given him a full baseball scholarship, and the team trained all summer.

When she heard the news, Hannah felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her heart. How did this fit into the plans she’d made? She expected Tom to attend college, but she never believed he would leave California and move all the way to Oregon.

She prayed with renewed vigor.

Before he left, his family had a going-away party for him. Hannah was in the early goings of summer league softball that month, but she missed practice the day of Tom’s party and went to the mall. There she picked out a sleeveless, rayon dress that danced in the breeze and fell softly on the budding curves of her developing body. She applied a layer of mascara to her fair eyelashes and curled and brushed her hair until it shone and lay in gentle waves around her shoulders. Finally she slipped her tanned feet into a pair of white-heeled sandals that accented her shapely colt-like legs. Before she left, she checked the mirror. Even she was amazed at the transformation—overnight she had become a young woman.

When she arrived at Tom’s house, his mother answered the door.

“Why, Hannah … you look so pretty, all grown up.” She smiled warmly at Hannah and ushered her inside. “Tom’s in the
other room. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

Hannah held her head high and went into the den. Tom was surrounded by a handful of boys, all seniors at West Hills High, all members of the varsity baseball team.

As she entered the room, each of them stared at her in a way that was just short of rude, but Hannah relished their attention. If Tom were going to leave the state for four years, he would have to remember her as more than the buddy down the block in jeans and a baseball cap.

“Hey, Hannah.” Tom looked uncomfortable, and Hannah knew he was registering the change in her appearance. There was a moment of awkward silence before he cleared his throat and said softly, “Nice dress.”

Tom stayed by her side the rest of the evening, teasing and making her laugh the way he’d done all their lives. When his teammates tried to have their share of time with Hannah, he found some excuse to take her away or involve her in another conversation.

When she left that evening, he walked her home. They stopped just out of view of her house. Tom leaned casually against the bark of an old shade tree and studied her in the moonlight.

“Kinda feels like the end of childhood, doesn’t it?”

Hannah fiddled with a loose curl and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t believe you’re going to be gone four years.”

Tom nodded and angled his head, studying her. “You sure look pretty tonight, Hannah. The guys were going crazy over you.”

She shrugged delicately and giggled. “They’re just used to seeing me in a uniform with my hair pulled up.”

Tom caught her gaze. “Yeah. Me too.”

The silence between them grew awkward then, and Hannah made circles in the grass with the toe of her sandal. There was a faint scent of honeysuckle in the early summer air, and she knew she would remember this night as long as she lived.

She smiled. “We had so much fun growing up together … shooting baskets all day and catching crickets at night. Remember that time we had a contest to see who could eat the most watermelon?”

“I won.”

“You won and then you got sick all over the front lawn, remember?”

Tom gripped his stomach and grimaced. “I still have a hard time eating watermelon.”

“But later, after you felt better, we talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up, remember?’

Tom laughed.

“You always said you wanted to be a doctor.”

He nodded. “That much hasn’t changed. You always said you wanted to have a big family, lots of kids.”

Hannah glanced down, thankful he couldn’t see her blushing in the haze of shadows under the shade tree. “I guess I still have some time for that one.”

“Hey, Hannah, do me a favor, huh?”

“Sure.”

“Pray for me. It’s gonna be hard starting over in a place where I don’t know anyone and being so far away from home.”

She met his gaze head on and smiled. “I always pray for you, Tom. I won’t stop now.”

He drew a deep breath, and Hannah could tell he was wrestling with his feelings. “Well, I guess I better go. I still have to finish packing.”

She was suddenly anxious to keep the conversation going as long as possible. “Will you be back? At break I mean?”

“Yeah. Christmas and summers. Whenever the team isn’t conditioning.”

“I wish I could see you play.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “Hey! You can! … We play at USC and UCLA. You could ride over with my parents. That’d be great!”

“Yeah!”

“And I’ll write and tell you all about college life.”

“Mmmhhm.”

“And you can catch me up on life at school and everything that’s happening in the old neighborhood.”

“Sure …”

They both fell silent, and Tom glanced back toward his house. “Well, Hannah, come here and give me a hug.”

She stepped forward, and they embraced like favorite cousins at a family reunion. When they pulled back, Tom ran his thumb lightly underneath Hannah’s neatly curled bangs. “Don’t change, Hannah.”

She could feel tears welling up, and she smiled uncertainly. “Have a good trip.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

And with that, life as Hannah had known it changed dramatically. The summer passed uneventfully with only one letter from Tom. She saw him briefly during Christmas break and sat with him and his family at Christmas Eve service. Then she didn’t see him until April, when she and his parents went to UCLA to watch his baseball game.

They spotted him before the game and waved, and Hannah felt her face flush at the sight of him. Tom was an outfielder, recruited for his strong arm and high batting average. Though a freshman, he was a starter, and that afternoon he hit a game-winning double. Hannah could barely contain her pride.

But when the game ended, a pretty brunette with a breathtaking figure ran up and threw her arms around Tom’s neck. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and then took her hand in his.

Hannah felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She wanted to run back to the car and spare herself this awful moment, but Tom and the girl were approaching fast, and there was nowhere to hide.

“Hey, thanks for coming.” Tom was breathless and sweaty, and Hannah thought he looked even more handsome than he had a year ago.

Tom glanced at the girl beside him. “This is Amy.” He looked at the others. “She does stats for the team.” He and Amy shared a smile. “These are my parents, and this is Hannah, my buddy from the old neighborhood.”

“Nice to meet you.” Amy wore heavy makeup; Hannah felt utterly plain beside her. Amy smiled warmly at Tom’s parents and barely paid heed to Hannah.

Hannah gritted her teeth. Plain or not, she would not be outdone. Tom belonged to her not this, this …

“Are you an actress?” Sarcasm dripped from Hannah’s every word, and Tom cast a curious glance her way.

Amy laughed uneasily. “No, do I look like someone famous?”

Hannah volleyed a similar laugh back at Amy. “No, I just thought with all that thick, gray, pancake makeup, maybe you were practicing for a play or something.”

Amy’s face went blank, and there was an awkward silence. Tom looked as if he could have strangled Hannah, but instead he cleared his throat and said, “I met Amy at the beginning of the season.”

“Yes,” Amy purred, squeezing Tom’s hand. Hannah was forgotten as Amy smiled sweetly at Tom’s parents. “Your son is quite an athlete.”

They all chuckled and agreed how wonderful Tom was. And before five minutes had passed, he was pulling Amy by the hand and bidding good-bye to Hannah and his parents. For Hannah, the entire scene seemed to take place in slow-motion, as though it were a horrible dream.

On the ride back to the Valley, Tom’s parents said very little. They seemed to understand that Hannah was hurt. When they pulled up in front of Hannah’s house, Tom’s mother squeezed Hannah’s shoulder. “She won’t be around long. She isn’t Tom’s type.”

Hannah prayed that Tom’s mother was right, but Amy did not go away. She and Tom dated through his sophomore and
junior year, while Hannah graduated from West Hills High and began attending California State University Northridge, three miles from home. Tom and Amy were together constantly, even during breaks.

Church was the only place Hannah knew she could see Tom alone. Amy was not a Christian and had no intention of ever becoming one, according to Tom’s mother.

“She’s a nice girl, but she’s all wrong for Tom,” his mother would say on occasion when Hannah visited. “He still has medical school ahead, and she’s not the waiting type. Besides, Tom needs a nice Christian girl. Someone like you, Hannah.”

“Tom doesn’t see me like that, Mrs. Ryan.”

“One day. Give him time.”

But a few weeks before the start of his senior year, Tom and Amy came home with an announcement. They were going to be married in June, right after he graduated.

Hannah was shocked and angry. She had dated occasionally, but her heart resided where it always had—to Tom, even if he didn’t know it. She and Tom belonged together. Everyone at home felt the same way, her parents and his, and the kids they’d grown up with.

Everyone but Tom.

The summer passed, and Tom and Amy returned to Corvallis to make plans for their senior year while Hannah was left to ponder her suddenly uncertain future.

That fall Tom wrote Hannah a letter. In it was no admission of love or longing, but rather a rambling of memories of their childhood and the happy times they’d shared. Hannah read the letter five times before tucking it carefully into her top drawer. Why, she wondered, was Tom thinking about her and their past when he should be busy making plans for his future with Amy?

Christmas break came, and Hannah learned that Amy had returned to Walnut Creek in Northern California, where she and her mother had plans to shop for a wedding gown. Tom
came home and spent hours hanging out in front of his house, bouncing his old basketball in the mild winter afternoons, his face pensive and troubled. More than a few times, Hannah glanced out her window and saw him gazing toward her house.

Three days before Christmas there was a social at church. Hannah arrived late, and while she was talking with the pastor’s wife, she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Hannah, what you been up to?” Tom was taller than before, his shoulders broad and full like his father’s. Hannah blushed furiously, and then thought of Amy, shopping the boutiques of San Francisco for a wedding gown.

“Oh, hi.” Her voice lacked any enthusiasm. “I thought you were back.”

Tom studied her, and she knew there was little about her that resembled the rough-and-tumble girl he once shot baskets with.

“Can’t believe I’m almost finished up at OSU.”

Hannah smiled, her defenses firmly in place. “Then there’s the big wedding.”

Tom’s expression changed and his eyes clouded. “Yeah … the big wedding.”

Cheerful chatter filled the hall, and Tom looked around, slightly bothered. “Let’s go outside and talk. It’s been a long time.”

She wondered what the point was, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll follow you.”

Outside they found a bench nestled against the church wall facing the parking lot. They sat down, shoulder to shoulder, much as they’d done hundreds of times before. They were silent as they took in the Christmas lights and listened to the hum of conversation in the distance.

“You ever feel like you were about to make a big mistake?” Tom leaned against the side of the bench and faced Hannah.

She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms
around her legs. Something about the cool night air and the intimacy of the moment caused her defenses to drop.

“Sometimes.”

Tom gazed heavenward. “Amy’s not a Christian.… She’s not …” He looked at Hannah. “She’s not a lot of things.”

She thought about that for a moment. “You asked her to marry you.” Their eyes met, and for the first time since she’d known Tom, it felt as though there was something more between them than just the bond of childhood, something Hannah couldn’t quite grasp.

“Yes, I did …”

Hannah felt bold in the darkness. “Why’d you do it, Tom?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Seemed like the right thing at the time. She sort of orders everything around her, and … I guess her parents were expecting me to propose. I mean, she was talking about our honeymoon and where we’d live when I’m in med school months before I ever asked her.”