The Weight of Love (4 page)

“And maybe that’s one of the reasons
Luke comes up so often.” Sharon’s brows go up. “They want you two as part of their family, not realizing that our life after this one probably isn’t as concrete as all of that.”

Of course.
How did I never think of that. “Probably,” I agree.

“Jaycee, you have to really, really feel it and know it’s the right thing to do and my guess is that’s why you haven’t done it.”
Sharon’s looking at me too intently now.

“It
’s just… Why were we even together, then? If Matt and I aren’t supposed to be together like that, what was the point of us?” It feels like every LDS couple goes to the temple for their wedding. Like everyone needs the
forever
thing, instead of just on this earth thing—we just didn’t make it there. A tiny bit of drinking, and timing, and we just…didn’t.

“That’s something you’re going to have to find your own answer for, sweetie.” She leans over and kisses my
forehead. “I feel terrible leaving you like this, but my brain shuts off at nine.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” My thoughts are e
nough to keep me occupied tonight.

“Do you think you have things under control?”

“Under control? No. But I feel better, does that count?” I lift my eyes to hers.

“Of course it does.”
She stands up. “I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me.” Her lips purse together as if she wants to say something.

“Let me have it.”
I smile. “I know you too well for you not to say it.”

“Part of me is glad that Matt’s family has stuck by you
.” She pats my knee. “And part of me wishes they’d just leave you alone.”

“I think that pretty much sums it up.”
It would have been horrible if they’d ignored me, but their idea of helping is for me to do things their way. Or at least that’s Donna.

“Don’t be afraid to call me, okay?”
She’s still standing, looking down on me.

“
Okay.” What else do I say?

“You are one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met.”

Sharon is just so nice. I stand up, and stuff my hands in my back pockets. “I’m certainly the one with the biggest messes, but I wouldn’t call it remarkable.”

“I would.”
She takes me into a hug. “You know we love you, just like one of our own.”

Tears spring to the surface again.
“I know. Thank you.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow at church
, okay?”

“Okay.”
I’m saying that a lot. Guess I’m running out of words, or maybe I’m just tired of hearing myself say thank you.

~
~ ~

The hallways fill up quickly after church like they always seem to do.
I pick up Bridger from his class. It takes all of my strength to keep him close to me as we navigate toward the foyer and coat closet. Since he learned to put on his coat, I’m no longer allowed to help.

“NO!
Mom! I can do it myself.” He stops just inside the closet, holding his hand out between us.

Apparently I’m also not allowed to follow him
into the closet. At least I already have my coat. “Bridger, you’re blocking the way for other people to come in. Why don’t you get your coat, all by yourself, and I’ll meet you out here, okay?” Anything to not disrupt the people around us too much. The sympathetic stares are getting old.

He lets his hand down, seeming appeased.
I lean my back against the wall near the closet so I can catch him if he tries to escape. The foyer is now packed. I let myself relax and look around at the people I go to church with. One man’s head stretches just slightly above the rest. He has slightly messy dark brown hair and is talking with Brother Adams and Sister Mezza from the leadership here. They’re smiling and laughing like old friends, but I don’t recognize him.

I let myself stare.
I’m on the opposite side of the room. It’s noisy, no one will notice. His head turns toward Elder Smitts and he elbows him once. His eyes are striking blue, not just a little blue, but electric. I suck in a breath. If Kyla had set me up with
him
, I might have lasted longer on my date. I might have asked for another one. His mouth pulls into another wide smile and his laugh vibrates through me, even from across the room.

How long has it been since I’ve looked at someone like this?
I’m not sure, probably not since I saw Matt walk into the singles ward. I smile at myself a little. He’s sure to be married or otherwise unavailable. I wonder if this means I’m ready to move on? I’m not sure and still can’t turn away.

His head turns further toward me showing his straight nose and square jaw.
Goodness seems to radiate out from him. I pull in another breath when our eyes meet. Like a jolt of tingles through me. It’s something I’ve never felt outside of a kiss. I let myself smile. His smile softens as our eyes keep contact. Wow.

Elder
Smitts, the missionary next to him, bumps him again and they start to move. My eyes drop down to his nametag.
Nametag
. I immediately look down. He’s a
missionary
? Now I just feel old and a bit like a stalker for staring at him like that. Talk about unavailable and probably
much
younger than he looks. I’m twenty-four, if he’s twenty, or even twenty-one, that’s way too much of a spread. And, I probably shouldn’t be thinking that either. He’s just so much broader, more mature, than most of the guys serving their missions.

Maybe he’s almost done…

Stop, Jaycee. Stalking a missionary is just creepy.

“Ready Mom!”
I jump at the sound of Bridger’s voice. He’s just out of the closet with his coat on upside down.

I start to correct him
, but the look of pride on his face stops me. “Great job.” Surely it’ll keep him warm enough to get out to the car and get him home.

“
Sister Layton.” I hear Elder Smitts behind me.

I pull in a few breaths because
blue-eyed boy must be his new companion, and I need to be able to look normal when we meet. I turn around slowly. “Hi, Elder Smitts.” I reach my hand out to shake his.

“This is Elder Worthen, my new companion.”

I let my eyes drift up to his face. It hits me again, the tingles of anticipation and excitement move through my chest and fill my body. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “Um…” A cough opens my throat enough to speak. “Nice to meet you.” All I see is kindness in his blue eyes.

He reaches out his hand and I’m almost afraid to take it.
“Nice to meet you too, Sister Layton.”

“Jaycee.”
It just comes out. Like by him calling me Jaycee things will magically turn into something I feel in my gut. Part anticipation, part nervous action, and part simple attraction.

“
I think we’re having dinner with you this week?” His voice vibrates through me even more than his laugh.

“Yeah.”
Hopefully sometime between now and then, I’ll get it together.
Crap
, I’m still shaking his hand. I drop my arm and stuff my hands into my coat pockets.

“
Mom
!” Bridger pulls on my arm, letting his legs drop out from underneath himself like he does when he really wants my attention. “Let’s
go
.”

“I’ll see you
later.” I turn away from them, or really from him, because he’s the only one I could look at, and follow Bridger out the door. It’s probably a good thing he pulled me out of there.

6

ELDER WORTHEN

Zone Conference– just past 18 months

Elder Smitts is a nice guy, but we’ve only been together a little less than a week. I’ve been partnered with worse. The sister missionaries are in here, too. I get more than a few second glances. I’m older and it’s always been that way a bit. It makes me uncomfortable. Girls are what kept me from going on my mission on time in the first place. I definitely don’t want to be distracted by them now. Not even by the gorgeous woman I met yesterday. My mission is the perfect opportunity to focus. To be better. To make up for the craziness after high school. I’m determined to finish my two years without incident. So far it hasn’t been a problem.

The program sits in my hands.
My heart stops when I see the name of the special guest speaker.
Jaycee Layton
. So much for keeping my mind off girls.
Focus on the words. Focus on the Spirit.
I tell this to myself over and over. The beginnings of our meeting kind of blur together. I flip through the calendar of appointments for the next week. We’re busy. That’s good.

“I’ve been asked to talk about how missionaries have changed my life.”

My hea
d snaps up from the calendar. I can’t take my eyes off of her. Her petite frame and small face. Her wide eyes seem to take everything in and her thick hair cascades in loose blond curls around her face. I remind myself to breathe.

“I’m a convert.
My sister dated a member in high school. They’re now married.” We chuckle with her. “We both started going to the youth activities. Never underestimate the power of our youth. Them, teamed up with you, can do wonderful things.” She pauses and it feels like a pause of reverence. Like a pause that means something real. “Bishop Allen was kind enough to offer his home to my sister and I after we were baptized. I waited for my eighteenth birthday, but it still mostly destroyed the relationship with my parents.”

My mouth drops open and as I look around, I’m not the only one.

“I can’t begin to express what the missionaries did for me at that time. They taught me, brought me support in the form of members and organizations, and gave me hope that the change I’d made in my life would lead to something big.”

I want to glance around the room to see if everyone is as enraptured as I am but I don’t want to look away.

“It feels like a lifetime ago now.” She stops and folds her arms on the podium. “They said I didn’t need to talk about this, but I will anyway, because it’s important. It’s important for you to know how crucial the work is that you do for the people who are already members. And it’s important for you to know and to remember that it’s not just important, but vital to listen to the promptings of the spirit, of your heart, above all else, even if your calendar says otherwise.” She laughs a little and we chuckle with her. I take the opportunity to look around the room. Everyone is as taken with her as I am. Well, maybe not
as
taken with her, but close.

“Two years ago I got the worst news of my life.
My husband, who was using the Guard to go to college, was sent overseas. He was killed in the line of duty.”

I know this already
, but I hear a collective gasp that I know I’m part of. It’s subtle, but still there. I’m sure she doesn’t notice. She’s in her story.

“It changed everythi
ng for me. My parents and I don’t speak much. My sister and her husband live more than an hour away, and I have a special needs son who hates change. The members of my ward have helped me and lifted me, and done what I couldn’t even formulate into a need. But, the one thing that has been constant, is the missionaries coming to my house.” She stares at her hands, still resting on the podium. “It’s honestly a little easier with sisters.” She chuckles again. “Because I don’t have to find a chaperone, but I love the Elders too. It’s a blessing I need to have in my home.

“
I could start to tell you stories about how they came to me at just the right time to help in just the right way, but we’d be here all day. Most of those, not all, but most of those visits weren’t scheduled ones. Remember that next time you wonder about someone you’re teaching or when someone’s name or face comes to mind. You bring a spirit with you that no one but missionaries carries with them. You don’t realize it, but just being in this room makes me feel a comfort I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m grateful to have this opportunity to speak with you today. Don’t forget the importance of what you’re doing. Place it above all else. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

“Amen.”
It barely comes out of my lips.

“And now, I’m going to be rude and leave early, I have a son to go home and chase.”
She steps back from the podium, shakes hands with the leadership, walks out the side doors, and disappears.

I fight the urge to jump up and follow her out.
Tell her how remarkable she is. Tell her how she’ll be rewarded for all that she’s been through. She needs to know how important she is. Does she know? Could she have any idea?

“Hello?”
Elder Smitts waves his hand in front of my face. “Time to get up, man.”

“Sorry, zoned out.”

“Bad pun.”

“What?”
Oh, right. Zone Conference.

-
- -

We have a nearly one-
hour drive to get home. I need to learn more about her.

“Tell me about Jaycee.”

“Aside from the obvious fact that she’s hot?”

I glare at him.
I noticed, but shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t be saying stuff like that.

“Sorry.”
He leans away from me. “I’m almost headed home, guess I’m distracted.”

“You were going to tell me about her?”

“Yeah. So, you already heard her story. She got baptized right after high school. Her sister was already married.”

“What about Jaycee?”

“I’m not sure but she’s twenty-three or twenty-four and her kid is five. I think you heard it all. I know she hasn’t been to the temple, but the bishop has asked that we leave that one alone.”

Strange, but okay.
“So, what do we do for her now?”

“Help with wood, mostly.
Her and her husband bought this small, and I mean
small,
house to fix up. He got sent overseas and killed—you know that part. She used almost all of his life insurance to pay off the house and buy her and Bridger a car. She works as a secretary at the school so she doesn’t make much, but she has all the same holidays as Bridger. We gave her a blessing before she started the job.”

“She said he was special needs?”
Like she needs something else to make her life harder.

“Autistic
they think. Really, to me, means hyper and annoying. He’s probably the only reason she isn’t already re-married unless she just doesn’t want to be.”

“My little brother is autistic but there are so many kinds of autism that he might not be like her kid at all.”
It’s more of a thought, but it comes out of my mouth anyway.

“Well, her kid is the only reason I don’t like going to visit her.
I mean, he’s okay, but he’s
odd
.” His eyes catch mine, probably to show that he really means what he says.

“I can do odd.”

“Well good. We see her tomorrow night.”

“Okay.”
It’s a lot of information to process. And I’m going to have to find a way to keep my head where it should be if we’re going to be spending the evening at her house.

“You probably want to hear about some of the other people we
do service for?”

“Uh… yeah.”
I wonder if I’ll be able to pay attention.

“So, Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie…”

Wow, she’s been through so much. Her beliefs must be like steel. For her to have been through what she’s been through and then to be asked to speak with us and to be at church and participating. It’s just a lot. I chew on my thumbnail as I think about her. Maybe after we talk and meet I’ll think about her less. Maybe. Hopefully. I only have six more months to go and I feel good about how I’ve done so far. I want to keep feeling good about how I’m doing.