After service, she beelines for me, dragging Sadie behind her. I know I’m about to get an apology. I paste a look of utter
innocence on my face because although I know I was about to do the same thing, for once I didn’t get caught doing the wrong
thing. I will savor this moment and happily let a six-year-old take the fall.
“Claire, I’m so sorry about Sadie’s actions.” Helen pulls Sadie forward. “Apologize to Claire.”
The little raven-haired beauty clamps her lips together and shakes her head. Defiance shoots from every line of her face,
but her eyes are filled with unshed tears.
“Helen, it’s okay.”
“No it isn’t.” She focuses her stern gaze on her granddaughter. “Immediately, or no TV for a week.”
Sadie’s lips are still clamped together so tightly they’re white. She shakes her head wildly. Tears spill over. Even I can
tell there is more than anger involved here. More than stubbornness.
“Helen. Let’s drop it. Okay?”
Helen sits and pulls Sadie forward. “Why are you being so stubborn? You’re usually such a good girl.”
Everything in me wants to snort. Yeah, right. But a modicum of self-control takes over and I remain silent.
Sadie relaxes her lips and glares up at me with such venom, I think I might need an antidote. She points a little finger at
me. “She made Daddy cry.”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Sadie, that is between your father and Claire. Do you think he’d want you to be mean to her?”
Sadie stomps so hard, I’m afraid she might have fractured her foot. At any rate, I can tell it was painful because a grimace
covers her face. But she seems to shake it off in light of her principled stand. “I’m not saying sorry. She made Daddy cry,
and that’s why he left me.”
I really want to crumple into dust. I know one thing, I’m not waiting around for the kid to apologize. “Excuse me, please.”
Helen places her hand on my arm. “Claire, she doesn’t understand.”
“I know. It’s all right. Really, I have to go.”
“I do understand.”
I hear Sadie sob behind me. “I want my daddy!”
Pain squeezes my heart as I hurry out of the church.
In the parking lot I hear a voice calling me. “Hey! Hey, Claire!”
I stop because a rusty little VW Bug is heading toward me. The kind before they got the new bodies and became “Beetles.” The
sun is glaring off the windshield, so I can’t make out the face, but I do see a dark arm poking out of the window and a hand
waving frantically. A head sticks out just before the VW screeches to a halt.
“Penny?”
Her grin is so wide, it envelops me with its infectious properties and I smile despite the heartbreaking scene I’ve just left.
“I’m so happy to see you!”
“Same here. I just had to check out the best church in town.”
“Was I right or was I right?”
“Well, I haven’t checked out all the others, but this beats any I’ve gone to since Mama’s church back home.”
The girl’s obviously brainwashed because childhood loyalty notwithstanding, there’s no way she’s ever been to a church as
great as this one. “Got plans for lunch?”
“Not really,” she says.
“Want to join me? I thought about going to Ellie’s Barbecue out by Bennett Springs.”
“Mmm. Sounds good.”
“Great, follow me to my house and we’ll leave your car there. You can ride with me.”
She agrees and I walk to my borrowed SUV. Alone. The kids are staying two weeks with their dad per Darcy’s request. She says
she’s nesting and needs someone to take care of with Rick working so many hours and her getting uncomfortably close to her
due date. I didn’t see them in church, so I figure they went to the first service.
Kids are so unpredictable. I almost expected an outcry at the suggestion they spend two weeks with Rick and Darcy, especially
after the way they reacted about staying there before. I suppose they see this differently, though. Because there was no fussing
about it.
In a few minutes I’m pulling into my driveway. Penny parks alongside the curb.
“This is your house, huh?” she says as she gets in.
“Not exactly,” I say as I pull back out. “The owner left town and needed someone to keep an eye on the place.”
“Lucky you. Sure beats the apartments.”
“You got that right, girlfriend.” Darn it! There it comes again. The lingo. I roll my eyes. “Sorry.”
Laughter bursts from her throat. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m used to it.”
Now my face burns. As much as I don’t want to see differences, I do. Not in a class or caste system. More a cultural thing.
I guess it’s sort of like how my brother, Charley, has a thick Texas drawl even though he grew up in Missouri and has only
lived in the Lone Star state for the past five years.
Then again, I guess only a weak mind is so easily influenced. I’ve always known Charley was weak, but what does that say about
me?
Oh, well.
By now we’re passing my house and Penny gives a low whistle as she looks it over. The broken part of the roof has been removed
and the boards are in a pile at the side of the house.
I stop the SUV in the middle of the road. “That’s my house.”
“I didn’t picture it being this bad.”
“I used to have a massive oak tree next to the house.”
“How long before you get to move back in?”
“Two or three months, I guess. One of the rooms has more damage than the rest.”
“Who’s the old man?”
“Huh?” I think maybe Penny might be hallucinating just a bit.
“In that yard.”
I tear my eyes from my dilapidated house to see John Wells waving.
I take my foot off the brake and pull the SUV to a stop next to John’s curb. I wave him over as an idea hits me. An idea that
is quite possibly not that great of an idea, but nonetheless, when I get something into my head it’s hard not to follow through.
He walks to my window.
“You look very nice, Ms. Everett.” His lips twitch.
“Thanks. Church.”
“Has your soul been sufficiently lifted?”
“It has. You ought to try it sometime.” I look at Penny, whose bemused look reveals that she doesn’t get the joke. And, of
course, there’s no reason she should. “John’s the neighborhood’s token atheist.”
She snorts.
“If you’re going to discuss me as though I’m not here, please introduce me to this young lady.”
“John Wells, meet Penny. We met while I was living at the apartments.”
“My pleasure.”
“Thanks,” Penny says with her wide smile. “My pleasure, too.”
And now for my bright idea. “Hey, John, we’re going out for lunch. Want to tag along?”
“Inviting me on a date? I’m honored, Ms. Everett.”
“Okay. You can delude yourself into thinking this is a date. But remember, it’s not really.”
He chuckles and looks past me to Penny. “Ms. Everett is our token heartbreaker. There’s one on every block.”
We wait for John to wash his hands and lock his door.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Penny says suddenly. “It’s been a tough week. I feel better already. Just going to church and being
invited to lunch.”
“I’m glad for the company. The kids are gone for a couple of weeks. I always eat too much when I’m alone.”
“I hear you.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. She has the perfect body, and I have a feeling she knows it.
She unhooks her seat belt when John emerges from his house. “Guess I’ll let the old guy sit up front.”
I grin. John would hate being called the “old guy,” but come on. He is.
He slips into his seat and looks at me expectantly. I look right back at him, because, frankly, I’m not that great a driver.
I drive too fast and sometimes birds distract me. “Are we having a picnic in the vehicle?” he asks, and I hear Penny snort
from the back.
“Seat belt, Sir John Wells.”
“Never wear them.”
Okay, one thing I have discovered about John is that he loves women. I know it won’t take much to get my way.
“Please? I would feel awful if we crash and you get hurt.”
He raises an eyebrow and I see acquiescence on his lined, Sean Conneryish handsome face.
“For you, Ms. Everett.” And just like that he clicks his seat belt into place.
I reward him with a broad smile. “Thanks.”
As I pull away from the curb, my stomach starts to churn. I’m not sure this is such a good idea, after all.
“So, tell me about yourself, John,” Penny says.
Oh, good. His favorite subject. That ought to distract him for the time being.
And for the next ten minutes he regales us with a tale about the time President Reagan came to see him while he was performing
on Broadway. His voice gets thoughtful as he recites from memory a note the late great president sent backstage. It was simple:
“You made me forget you were acting. Good job. Ronnie.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” Penny says, although I know darned well Miss Barely Twentysomething couldn’t possibly remember a president
before Clinton. “My folks voted for Carter and Mondale.” Okay, maybe she paid attention in history classes.
“Ah, were your parents from Minnesota?” John grins.
Penny’s laugh echoes throughout the SUV. “California. I think they were the only people in the state who voted on the Democratic
ticket that election.”
John looks over his shoulder and sends her a wink. (What is it about old guys and winking, anyway?) “I didn’t vote either
time, but I had great respect for Reagan. It was a sad, sad day when he passed on.”
“At least he’s in heaven,” I can’t resist saying. I’d rather talk religion than politics anyway. I know where I stand on Christianity.
I’m a little wishy-washy when it comes to politics. And we’ll just leave it at that.
John seems to have my number. He laughs out loud. “Heaven? The fairy-tale kingdom where all good people and good dogs go when
they die.”
“Now, John. You’ve read the Bible, you say. You should know that no one is good. No not one.”
“Touché. So why try?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” I grin and turn my gaze to him. While he’s a captive audience, I think the time might finally have
arrived to share the gospel. “Listen, John…”
“Ms. Everett. While it is true I don’t believe in an afterlife, I’m not quite ready to test my theory. Will you please turn
your attention back to the winding road?”
“Yeah, I’m still debating whether my salvation is holding up considering the past few years of my life,” Penny chimes in from
the back. “I’m not ready to test my fear of hell.”
“All right, fine.” I focus, and just in time, because I’m about to miss the parking lot. I set the whole heaven versus fairy-tale
land debate on the back burner for now because, judging from the whiteness of John’s face, I think I might have to do CPR.
“John, you okay?”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Don’t you like barbecue?” Penny saves me a reply by asking.
“I do not.”
“Well, that’s okay.” I wave off his frustrated response—
totally playing the innocent. “They have seafood, too. And fried chicken.”
“That is not the point.” He glares at me, and I realize once again what a terrible, awful actress I am. “When did you discover
that my daughter and her grandmother run this place?”
Penny holds up her hand. “Look, I can tell this is a private conversation, so how about I go in and use the bathroom and when
I come out, you’ll either be in a booth waiting for me, or in the car waiting for me so we can leave.”
She doesn’t bother to wait for an answer, but opens the door and heads inside.
“Ms. Everett, I’m not pleased with your duplicity.”
He’s lucky I’m a wordsmith or I wouldn’t even know what he meant. But I get it. He’s basically calling me a liar. A deceiver.
“Hey, John. I just wanted barbecue and invited you along.”
“Revelation twenty-one, verse eight,” he says with Stu-like smugness. “Read it.”
“How about telling me what it says?”
“In essence, it tells where liars go.”
I’m getting a little ticked off at this God-mocker’s Scripture referencing. “Oh, yeah? Where does it say atheists go?”
His mustache gives that telltale twitch. “At least I admit what I am. That’s much more than I can say for you. I can read
your face. You brought me here to try to play some sort of peacemaker between us.”
Caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar, I shrug. “Well, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the
sons of God.’”
His lip turns down and I see the first real scowl I’ve ever seen on John’s face. “You’re beginning to annoy me.”
“What? It’s okay to quote it as long as you don’t believe it?”
“How about we drop this and go inside before Penny thinks we’re leaving?”
“Really?” Okay, I thought we were gearing up for a knock-down-drag-out fight and an immediate trip back to town.
“I’m not a fool, my dear. I’ve been invited to dinner by two beautiful women. How can I pass up the opportunity?”
John is smooth. Very smooth.
Only when Brandi sees us, she glares at John and smiles at me. To my surprise, she meets us at the door with menus. “Follow
me.”
She seats us in my favorite booth. “I’ll be back with some water.”
“Thanks. We have another person with us.”
“That’ll be me.” Penny smiles broadly and plants herself next to me, forcing me to scoot in. I prefer to have a seat to myself,
or at the very least have the outside. But I swallow hard and decide to try to contain my claustrophobia for the next thirty
minutes to an hour.
Brandi returns, unaware that her father hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since we stepped inside. Brandi leans on one hip.
“So, how’d you get him to come out here?”
I grin. “Seat belt, locked door, and seventy miles per hour. He didn’t have a chance.”
“Indeed?”
“He’s afraid of where atheists go,” I whisper, trying to get a rise out of him.
“I can tell him where to go,” Brandi says, her expression turning hard as stone.
John, ever the gentleman, clears his throat and looks at the menu. “I believe I will have the grilled trout with steamed zucchini
and a house salad. Oil and vinegar dressing.”