When Tariana arrived in the kitchen, she found her mother and three sisters heading out the door. “I have an early class, and the girls are helping me provide a bit of entertainment in my message. They love dramatizing children’s Bible stories.” Her mother reached for the knob. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes, I’ll come along with Frances later.”
She watched them leave, feeling her pulse thicken. After pouring some oatmeal into a bowl, she added some cold milk and downed the food in record time. Tariana heard her sister stirring upstairs, and she knew Frances would be down shortly. She scooped two large spoonsful of oatmeal into a bowl and poured the cold milk into another. Inside the second dish, she released a couple of drops of vinegar and watched as the white, creamy milk soured before her eyes. She dumped it into the oatmeal when her sister entered the room.
“We’re running late, Frances. I’ll wait for you while you eat, but make it quick.”
“I don’t need food. My tummy is already nervous from the impact this day will have on my life.”
Tariana refrained from commenting on that piece of unwanted news.
“All the more reason. You don’t want the parishioners to be distracted by your grumbling stomach. And you mustn’t pig-out at your future in-laws’ table. You have time to eat now. We’ll walk quickly to town and slip in before Mrs. Jardins cranks up the old organ.”
Frances plunked herself onto a chair, and Tariana placed the bowl, spoon, and hot drink in front of her. “Wash it down with a cup of tea, like a good girl.”
She screwed up her face after the second mouthful. “Something tastes odd. Did you make this or did mother?”
“Mother, I swear.”
Two more bites and she pushed it away. “I’ve had enough.”
Tariana grabbed the bowl, scooped the remainder into the garbage, and rinsed the dish clean. No sense in leaving the evidence for all to see.
“I thought we were in a hurry,” Frances said. “If I survive this day, the wedding will be a cinch.”
Frances marched bravely all the way down Main Street, but Tariana noticed signs of discoloration in her face. When her sister suddenly rushed behind a tree and threw up, the victory trumpet sounded in Tariana’s scheming head. She returned a few moments later.
“I don’t feel well. I had no idea nerves could play such tricks on a person’s wellbeing.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Tariana felt a twinge of guilt. “I can’t go to church, but if I don’t show up for Sunday service, Father will never allow me to dine at Michael’s later.” She erupted into sobs. “Whatever will I do?”
“You must return home immediately. Go to bed and pray for a miracle. If Father reneges regarding your attendance at the family luncheon, I will run home and bring you myself.”
“Oh, would you do that for me, Tariana?”
The pleading in her voice pounded the last nail into Tariana’s shrouded conscience, making her feel like the heel she was, but the thought of having Michael all to herself for the afternoon won over. “Shall I walk you back?”
“No. You go on ahead so Father won’t be upset with you again. I can get home by myself.”
Before she turned to go, Tariana pecked her sister on the cheek; the thought of Judas kissing Jesus’s face just before betraying Him nearly did her in.
Just this one last time, she begged the Lord. I will repent as soon as I know Michael doesn’t secretly care for me, and he truly loves Frances.
The deal did not sit well with Tariana, and she felt equally sure it did not sit well with God either, but the thought of another two weeks in her room kept her heading down her path of deceit.
When they arrived at the Frost home at noon, Tariana watched Michael’s response carefully. His face showed grief at the news of Frances’s sudden illness, but at the same time, he appeared relieved.
Tariana was overjoyed. Could Michael be having second thoughts? Her earlier transgression might have saved him from committing to something he truly did not want.
Her opportunity to speak to him happened quite by accident. She’d become bored with the ladies’ after-dinner chatter and excused herself for a stroll in the garden. She inhaled the fragrance of jasmine, startling when a voice sounded behind her.
“I’m glad to see you love flowers.”
She straightened and faced Michael, who had gone straight to the heart of the matter.
She’d bite. “I do. Especially the ones you sent.”
“I must confess, Frances goaded me into sending them. I wished I’d have thought of the kind gesture myself.”
“So, I have two of you to thank for the poisonous shrub. That makes me feel better.”
“Yeah, well, that part was simply unkind, but I have pleaded to God for forgiveness, and now, I beseech you favor me with yours.”
“I wonder how the Creator could make such a beautiful plant so dangerous to living creatures.”
“He has a reason for all things,” Michael said, “whether we understand or not.”
“Yes. I am reminded daily of how little I truly understand. It seems the more I learn from the Word, the more I discover I don’t know. Every answer poses another question.”
“Quite a scholarly view,” Michael said.
“Do you like brilliant women or frivolous ones who are limited by the confines of their tiny surroundings?”
“I enjoy a good debate with a man – or a woman – when suitable.”
“That’s hardly an answer,” she teased.
She might as well get the question out there while she had the opportunity. “Are you quite settled with the notion of taking Frances as your bride?”
“Are you really asking if she falls in the brilliant category or the superfluous?”
“I could answer for you, but you probably wouldn’t like it,” Tariana
