{Worth the Wait; A Love Story Part VIII}

I could not fall asleep after that phone call.  I drug myself out of bed, got ready,  and packed a bag of things to do at the hospital, which was -mind you- three blocks from my house.
I picked up some coffee on the way and then headed to the waiting room.  My brother came down to say Hi and give me the update and then headed back up to be with his wife.
A few hours later, Hannah’s family arrived to join me in the waiting room.  A couple hours later my family arrived.
We had been receiving text message updates from Miles as we eagerly waited in the hospital lobby.  Then, the updates ceased.  
“It must be close,” I said.
Finally, my phone beeped and when I opened it, there was the most precious chalky and slimy mushed up face I had ever seen.
Luke Wade Nelson had entered the world.
After a time, we each were allowed to see the newest addition to the Nelson clan.
He was perfect.  I couldn’t help the feelings that overwhelmed as I held that precious swaddled bundle in my arms.

Also, there was an ache.  Would I ever feel the joy of having a child? 
I had been assigned text message duty.  So, I pulled out my list of phone numbers and dutifully forwarded the picture and birth announcement to friends.  Unfortunately, I forgot to leave off our friend Danielle who was in labor at that very moment.  I hope that when she received that text it offered hope that her labor would end soon, rather than discouragement that her little one hadn’t yet made it into this world.
Lillian was born a few hours later and to this day the two munchkins are best buds, and soulmates of course.
There was one person that I did leave off the text list.  It was Scott.  I wanted to think more carefully about what I said to him.  He was different, special, and this was an opportunity to text him; I finally had a legitimate reason.
So, on Sunday, I texted him to tell him that Luke had been born and that friends were allowed to come see him.  After all, Scott had been there throughout the majority of the pregnancy.  He was friends with my brother.  He came.  He came.  It was strained at first.  After all, he had taken me to breakfast, acted like nothing had changed, and then promptly ignored me for a week straight with no explanantion.
However, we soon fell into that familiar feeling.  It was so easy.  We couldn’t help it.  I sat next to him and passed him the little boy that was to be his nephew soon.  Watching Scott’s rough work-worn hands tenderly hold that little life wreaked havoc on my heart.  
Lord, I know he is who you have for me.  Show him, Lord.
I walked Scott out to his truck. Once there, I worked up the courage to ask him why in the world he had ignored me for a week.
He apologized. 
“I don’t understand, “I beseeched, “You were acting as if we were together again and then you just ignored me.  That isn’t right.  Don’t you know how that hurts me?”
“I know.  That’s why I didn’t talk to you.  I have been thinking that I want to be with you again, but I needed to make sure it wasn’t only because I was around you.  Of course when I am around you, I enjoy it, but I want to make sure that this is what God wants and not just what my flesh wants.  I don’t want to hurt you again.”
My mind was reeling.  My heart was beating rapidly.  He was thinking of getting back together?  Oh Lord. Oh Lord, calm me.
“Well, you could have at least let me know instead of ignoring me.”
“I know.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
He hugged me good-bye.  Gently. His hands rubbed my back in an apology of their own.
The next weekend, my Aunt Ruth and cousin Nicole (future maid-of-honor) were down visiting and all of us girls went out to lunch.  As we were walking through the downtown streets to Natural Cafe, there came Scott, walking our way.  Of course we said Hello.  My Aunt Ruth, in true Aunt Ruth fashion, invited him to come have lunch with us, which he did.
I always tell him it is a good thing that my family likes him because there he was, sitting beside me with his arm around me, his hand on my leg, but no promises of us being together again.  Heck, I wasn’t going to tell him to stop; I was relishing every moment.
Before we parted ways my Aunt Ruth came through again.
“Come over for dinner and games tonight, Scott!” She urged.  Perhaps she was feeling latent guilt over the whole wedding dress debacle that had occurred two weeks prior to the break-up.  I honestly couldn’t care less why she asked him.  I was grateful she had because he said yes.
That night, after dinner and a few rounds of holding the baby, Scott said the best words I had heard in a long time.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Sure,” I responded nonchalantly.  Inwardly, I could feel an uncomfortable warmth stealing over me as knots began to form in the pit of my stomach.  This was it.  Tonight would determine my future.

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