Margaret Welsh stood at the doorway of her house and watched her granddaughter, Ellie, standing in the yard. She'd been standing out there, still as a deer, for the better part of an hour.

She felt bad for the girl. Being stood up at the altar wasn't something that happened all too often. But it did happen, and usually it was for the best. Least ways, that's how Margaret felt.

Margaret had never cottoned to Ellie's boyfriend. He was a fast talker. Always on the verge of some get rich quick scheme. He was slicker than a television preacher. So, she was sad that Ellie was left with a broken heart and a head full of why's, but now it was time for Ellie to stop wondering and pining away for a man who wasn't worth it.

"Ellie," she called, pushing open the screen door to step out on the porch. "Are you still crying? It's been two weeks, for heaven's sake."

Ellie turned around, eyes swollen and bloodshot. "I have every right to cry. I was supposed to be Mrs. Chandler Higgins. How could he do that to me? I thought he loved me." Her last words ended up in a high pitched wail.

Margaret rolled her eyes. Enough is enough, she thought. She let the screen door smack closed into the door frame. "Ellen Renee Welsh, you stop that damn crying. Right now." Margaret stomped down the stairs and cut across the yard until she was a foot away from her granddaughter.

"I have every right to cry. I'll probably never stop crying."

Margaret grabbed Ellie by the shoulders. "Now, you listen and you listen good. That man isn't worth the salt in your tears. He was a good for nothing phony."

"No, he wasn't, Grandma."

"He was, too. He couldn't pass a mirror without winking at his own reflection. Why he didn't even have the balls to tell you himself. Got his momma to tell you. Ellie, is that the kind of man you want? Does that sound like a strong man?"

Sniffling, Ellie shrugged. "But I loved him."

"Maybe you did. God knows why, but maybe you did."

"He made me feel pretty, Grandma. He told me I was special."

Margaret sighed. "Oh, Ellie, any man will tell you you're special when they want something. You need a man who will make you feel special without saying a word."

"Grandma, why'd he leave me like that? " she whispered, trying not to start crying all over again.

"You ever hear that saying, when God closes one door, another one opens. Well, it's the same with love."

"I don't want anyone else."

"Ellie-girl, there is someone out there, and he's crying cause he just can't find the right girl. Someone has broken his heart or maybe left him at the altar, as well. But as bad as he feels, one day the two of you are going to meet. And it's gonna make sense. These tears you're crying right now, you aren't even going to remember them."

Ellie wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "You promise?"

"Scouts honor." Margaret wrapped her arms around Ellie's narrow shoulders and held on to her for a few seconds before letting go.

Ellie held out her hand and waited for Margaret to take hold. "You coming inside?"

"I'll be along in a minute," she walked over and stood by the huge Dutch Elm tree.

She closed her eyes as she thought about that one night she had waited for Elmore Dobbs to come pick her up for the cotillion at the community center. The sun slid behind the tree tops leaving her shivering as she realized Elmore wasn't coming.

She had pulled off her satin pumps, specially dyed to match her dress, and started walking down the road towards home. As tears started to roll down her cheeks, she heard a horn behind her.

Margaret stepped to the side, expecting the old beat up farm truck to pass. But it stopped right beside her.

"Miss," the lanky farmhand said. "Are you alright?"

"Leave me alone. I'm fine." Her sadness and humiliation made her lash out at this good samaritan.

"Well, I might not be a smart man, but I can see you are walking barefoot down the road and you look to be crying. So, I'm afraid I disagree with you. So, I'm not going to leave you here in the middle of nowhere barefoot and crying."

"I got stood up." Margaret whimpered.

The farmhand scratched his head. "Well, I know two things. He must be plum crazy or just plain old fashioned stupid. Cause if you were waiting for me, I'd be there."

Margaret sniffed and smiled slightly. "Thank you for saying that."

"Now, can I give you a ride home?"

Margaret reached for the door handle but he jumped out of the truck, ran around and opened it for her. "What's your name?"

"Margaret Kristopher." She waited until he climbed back in the driver's seat and extended her hand.

"I'm Ben. Ben Welsh. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Margaret. And you should just stop crying over that fella. He obviously don't have the good sense to understand his mistake."

Margaret smoothed out her dress and listened to Ben tell her all about his little farm.

When they pulled up in front of her house, Ben smiled shyly. "I know you're seeing another fella, but I sure would like to see you again."

She thought about Elmore. She thought about him until she didn't think about him anymore.

"Maybe, Ben Welsh, just maybe you will."

She hopped out of his truck and waved goodbye. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. It was as she was stepping up on the porch, she realized she couldn't remember why she had been crying in the first place.

Margaret smiled at the memory and started back towards the house. "Yes, Ellie, I promise he's out there."