Soon they were back at the fire, and now Rebekah found herself the center of everything. Nobody was talking about missing her yet, but now she understood why. Like Mother, they assumed that there would be at least a month, probably more, before Rebekah left. In fact, that was probably the normal thing, and it was only Rebekah’s ignorance of weddings that kept her from realizing that this feast tonight could not possibly be a farewell for her.

Except that Eliezer had assumed what Rebekah assumed—that God had not wasted any time about granting their prayers, and they would not waste any time about getting on with fulfilling his will.

Rebekah felt just a little foolish about having had Deborah spend an hour with her this evening, helping her choose which of her clothing would be useful in her new role as a wife, and which would be left behind because it was too girlish. The truth was, there wasn’t all that much that was worth taking along. Abraham’s household was bound to have plenty of fine seamstresses who could fashion new clothing for her. She really needed only enough for the journey and her first weeks as a bride.

Now, of course, she realized that for the next month all the seamstresses in camp would be taken from their other duties and devote themselves to sewing the clothing Rebekah would need. Mother would know exactly what to do.

The feasting wound down soon after Rebekah returned to the fire—as Mother had said it would. And that night, Rebekah slept easily, knowing that this was not her last night in Father’s household after all.

In the morning, she woke early, as always, but felt a little sleepy and a little lazy, as well. The household really wasn’t her concern anymore. For good or ill, it was Mother’s to rule, and Rebekah could spend a little more time than usual on herself.

Deborah was delighted, of course, because she loved to play with Rebekah’s hair. But they were not half done when there was a loud clapping outside her tent, followed at once by Laban’s voice.

“Rebekah, are you in there?” He sounded urgent.

“Can’t somebody else take care of whatever it is?” she asked.

“They want you,” he said, and now she realized he was upset. “Father and Mother. And that steward.”

“My hair’s only half done.”

“You’re going to make them wait for you to do your hair?” asked Laban.

“That question from the boy who used to tease me when my hair wasn’t nicely done?”

“Rebekah, he thinks he’s going to take you away this morning. Now. And for some reason Father is leaving it up to you!”