Charlotte, dressed casually, slipped into the back seat of Victor’s van, since four couldn’t fit in Frank’s car. Frank slid in after her and put his arm around her, pulling her close. It was the nearest they’d been physically, and Charlotte felt a little funny about it. Kind of like in grade school, when the boy you like chooses to sit next to you on the bus. Her breathing slowed and she was afraid to move. It made her mad that she felt so childish.
Victor and Janice talked and laughed, acting like an old married couple. They seemed completely at ease with each other. Despite all her reservations about Janice’s pronouncements of being in love, she had to admit it looked to be true. They each appeared to be crazy about the other, without being ridiculous about it. It made Charlotte feel jealous. Victor had struck her as sober and rather sad when she first met him, but now he cracked jokes and laughed like a hyena. Janice looked at him with affection.
At one point in the evening, when the men were buying Cokes at the bowling alley, Charlotte asked Janice how she’d gotten along with Victor’s daughter at the zoo. “Oh Charlotte, it was great. She clung to me like I was her long lost aunt. I’m absolutely in love with her, as much as I’m in love with her dad. This whole thing is too good to be true.”
Charlotte smiled and didn’t feel a bit like scolding Janice. She felt tremendously happy for her, and a little bit sad for herself.
When the guys came back, Frank handed Charlotte a Coke. “So how good a bowler are you?”
“Not very good. I haven’t bowled in years.”
“So are you saying that I should pick Victor as my partner instead of you?”
“Well!” She tried to act indignant. “That’s not very loyal.”
“Ah, I’m kidding. You’re way prettier than Victor.” He cuffed her chin lightly and her spirits rose. After that, things got better between them and by the end of the evening, she felt content.
The next Sunday at church, Charlotte felt a little bit of a jump in her heart when Pastor Gordon got up to speak. Mrs. Donahue’s words echoed in her mind, making her mad that these futile thoughts were stirred up again. When the service was over, she went through the line to congratulate Gordon on his good sermon. “Thank you, Pastor. Another excellent reminder.” He gave her a polite smile as he shook her hand, then quickly turned to the next person in line. “Nope,” she thought, “I don’t care how well Mrs. Donahue thinks she knows him, there’s nothing there. So Charlotte, stop thinking about him right now.”
These scoldings worked pretty well, but she was annoyed when writing later that she kept picturing Pastor Gordon as the hero in her story. She purposely pasted Frank’s face in her mind instead and resolutely projected his image onto her character. It was fairly easy to do, because he fit the typical man in her stories. Handsome, caring, and attentive, she willed herself to fall in love with him.
It was a dreadfully hot day, so she closed everything up and turned on the air conditioner. A little while later, she heard a siren go off. She’d noticed that the wind had picked up; her windows were rattling as if someone was shaking them. So the siren worried her. Turning on the radio, she heard that a tornado was headed her way. She wasn’t sure what to do since she didn’t have a cellar to hide in. There were no rooms in her house without windows, so she hunched down in the hallway and waited. She’d been in a tornado once as a child and had been terrified of them ever since. All she had to do was close her eyes and the memory of the windows blowing in came back to her. It took her years to get over the terror she felt in any storm. While she sat there trembling, her phone rang. Grabbing the cordless, she took it back with her to the hallway.
“Charlotte, are you okay?”
“Oh Frank, I’m so glad you called. I’m really scared.”
“Do you want me to come get you?”
“I don’t think that would be wise. We’d better both stay inside.”
“I’ve got a basement, at least. Where are you going to go?”
“I’m in the hallway. Tell you what, will you pray with me? My heart’s beating awfully fast.”
There was an awkward silence on the other end. “You mean like now, out loud?”
“Yes, it would be comforting.”
Another moment of silence, then urgency in his voice: “Whoa, I hear rain coming down. I’d better go. I’ll call when this is over.”
Charlotte hung up the phone and a tear came to her eye. She felt so alone. She put her head down between her knees and trembled like a frightened bunny.
A few blocks away, Pastor Gordon made a few calls too. He was particularly worried about the shut-ins that he visited regularly. After making sure they had a place to take shelter, he prayed with each of them to calm their hearts. When he’d hung up, he thought of Charlotte. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he threw on his raincoat and fought his way down the block to her house. Once there, he felt foolish. He knew he couldn’t knock on her door, but he was worried about her, so he placed a hand on the outside of her house and prayed that God would keep her safe. He knelt down in the bushes and stayed there until the storm had passed.
Inside her house, Charlotte felt a peace come over her. The frustration she’d felt a moment earlier lifted. She wondered if perhaps Frank had prayed for her after all, or if God knew she needed His presence and sent His Holy Spirit to comfort her. Either way, she relaxed and drifted into the knowledge of His love.
The tornado touched down on the edge of town, tearing into an apartment building, collapsing one of the residences. Fortunately, the occupants had evacuated, so no one was hurt. True to his word, Frank not only called, but jumped into his car to see if Charlotte was safe. On his way there, he passed a drenched figure walking away from Charlotte’s neighborhood. He wondered who could have been foolish enough to be out in this storm.
Running up to her door, he banged on it with his fist. She opened it timidly, but when she saw Frank, she fell into his arms sobbing, and he comforted her like a child. Although startled at her reaction, he enjoyed the feel of her body close to his and her obvious need of his presence. He reluctantly let her go when she finally pulled away. He wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted anything. He’d been so patient, and it had been too long since he’d been with a woman, but he instinctively knew this wasn’t the time. He’d wait a bit longer. She’d eventually be ready.
From across the street, Mrs. Bartholomew saw everything. She saw Pastor Gordon get up out of the bushes and walk away when the storm passed. She saw Frank arrive and Charlotte’s obvious relief as she clung to him. Hugging Custer, who had been clinging to her ever since the storm began, she said, “Something’s very strange over there. What are we going to do about it, old boy?”
CHAPTER fourteen
The next day Misty showed up on Charlotte’s doorstep with two of her friends. “Hi. You said I could bring some people over, so here we are.” She looked as cheerful as if she’d brought Charlotte a Christmas present.
“I think I told you to call first,” Charlotte said gently without reproof in her voice.
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” She scratched her head and then asked, “Do you want me to go home and call you?” This was a girl who lived by the rules when she remembered them.
Charlotte laughed, “No, just try to remember next time. Come on in.”
The other two girls hid behind Misty until they walked into the house, then they got more comfortable. They bounced on the sofa, looking like they planned to settle in for the winter. When everyone was seated, they all looked awkwardly at each other. Finally Charlotte broke the silence. “What exactly can I do for you girls?”
The two new girls looked at Misty. Misty looked back at them and shrugged her shoulders. Finally one of the girls said, “We want you to tell us about having boyfriends and stuff like that.”
Though Charlotte’s face was a complete blank, her mind was racing: “What in the world am I going to tell these girls? This is ridiculous.” But out loud she said, “Why don’t we start with names. You can call m
e Charlotte.”
“We know that,” said the taller of the two girls. “Misty gives us your books to read.”
“Okay, so why don’t you tell me who you are.”
The same girl spoke again. She seemed to be the leader. “I’m Nanette, and this is Virginia.” She pointed to the pale blond who looked as if she’d rather stay invisible.
“Good. Well, I was just working on another book.”
“What’s this one about?”
“It’s about a woman who meets a man in the South Pacific but thinks he doesn’t care for her, so they almost don’t get together when she returns to the United States.”
“Ooh, that sounds good. Tell us more.”
So Charlotte started telling them the story in detail. After about twenty minutes had gone by, she pulled out the last of her bake sale items, and they munched on goodies as she finished the tale. It took a while because of all the questions they asked her about her characters’ love life. Every once in a while, she had to remind them that the people in her stories were imaginary, since they began to ask what happened after the story ended. They seemed disappointed about the reminder.
“Now you girls know more than anyone. You won’t have to read the book.”
“I’ll read it anyway,” said Nanette. “I get more of the details that way. Besides you didn’t tell us exactly how it ends. You made us guess. So we’ll have to read it to see which one of us was right.”
Charlotte smiled. She liked these girls. Her life had revolved around adults for so long that she’d forgotten how refreshing children could be.
“Can we come back next week, so you can tell us some more?”
“Sure, just remember to call.” She emphasized the word call.
They all nodded their heads and took off through the door. Summer gets long for twelve-year-olds.
A week later, when she responded to a knock on her door, five girls stood there looking at her eagerly. When she reminded them that they were supposed to call, they looked stricken. “Oh never mind, come on in. But I don’t have anything prepared to eat.”
“That’s okay,” said Misty. “I’ll run home and get some microwave popcorn. Is it okay if I use your microwave?”
“That would be fine. I think I have some lemonade I can mix up. Will that do with popcorn?” All five heads nodded, so she took it as a yes.
“Don’t say anything important until I get back,” yelled Misty as she took off down the block.
By the time Misty returned, Charlotte had them organized into sections so that they could write their own romance. They set up the characters and she gave each girl an assignment. After each person contributed and the final story came together, it was hilarious. Even Charlotte laughed so hard that her sides hurt.
As they got ready to leave, one of the girls said to Charlotte, “You are so beautiful. I hope I get prettier.”
Charlotte studied her. The girl was certainly at an awkward stage in life. With both glasses and braces, and blemishes threatening to take over, she looked to be the ugly duckling. Charlotte remembered those days well enough. “Do you know I looked quite a bit like you when I was your age? Nobody noticed me. But the good thing about that was I learned to develop other things, like my writing. Concentrating on who I was rather than what I looked like was the best thing for me. It can also make us pay attention to God. Otherwise, we skip along our merry way without giving Him a thought. Maybe He’s whispering to you right now.”
The girl’s eyes got bigger and she asked, “How will I know if He’s talking to me?”
“You’ll understand more about Him. He says, after all, that if we seek Him with all our hearts, we’ll find Him. It’s the best adventure we can undertake in life.”
“Wow, you ought to be a preacher or something.”
“Oh no. I do better writing my thoughts than saying them aloud. I’ll stick to that.” Charlotte smiled. “Plus, no one can talk back to me in my books!”
Something about the girls made Charlotte reflective. So far she’d been concentrating on her own well-being and comfort since she’d moved to Crispens Point. Their presence made her think about what she wanted to give back to the community. She pulled out her church bulletin and browsed through it, looking for opportunities to serve. Her interest was piqued when she read about the youth group activities. Her experience with the girls gave her confidence that she had something to offer this age group. She decided to call Mrs. Donahue. “Hello, this is Charlotte. How are you today?”
“I’m doing fine. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could use some help with youth group. I’ve never done anything like that, but I’d like to try.”
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That we needed help? I just called the secretary, and we put an announcement in the bulletin for this Sunday. Our youth group is growing so rapidly that we need more adults.”
“That’s great. What do you want me to do?”
“Our planning meeting is tomorrow night at my house. Seven o’clock. Just show up and we’ll get to work.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
Charlotte hung up the phone with a feeling of contentment. Maybe God allowed her to be single so that she’d have time for stuff like this. It made her glad for the first time that John had left her. She realized that it had been a long time since she’d thought of him. It was a relief to realize that no matter what John’s behavior had been, she was exactly where God wanted her. She was starting to fall in love with Crispens Point.
Tuesday flew by as Charlotte concentrated on her work. Around six o’clock she popped a microwave meal in and polished it off, as if she’d been starved as a child. After washing up the few dishes, she grabbed a notebook and set off around the block. She thought of the countless times she’d raced for the train in the city and delighted in how simple her life had become.
Mrs. Donahue had iced tea and lemonade for everyone as they gathered around her table. “Charlotte, this is Bill and Sara Michaels. They help with youth group too.”
“Nice to meet you.” Charlotte extended her hand to shake with both of them.
“The only one left is Pastor. He should be here any minute.”
“He helps with youth group too?” Charlotte asked, trying not to reveal how her heart raced.
“Yes, he does all the devotionals. He’s also speaking at the upcoming retreat.”
“Oh, when is the retreat?”
“Next weekend. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I should have told you about it when you volunteered. Don’t feel like you have to come along.”
“I’d be glad to come. I don’t have anything going this weekend. How many kids are going?”
Mr. Donahue piped up, “Too many!”
Mrs. Donahue punched him in the arm. “One is too many for Morton, but he’s a good sport to go along anyway. Actually, we have the largest group ever; about thirty-five are going.”
“Wow, that is a bunch. I can see why you needed more help.”
At that moment, the door slammed in the living room. “I just let myself in,” Pastor Gordon’s baritone voice boomed through the house.
“We’re in the kitchen. Come on in.”
Gordon stepped through the door with a broad smile on his face. When he saw Charlotte, his face fell as if he’d just seen the Grim Reaper. “Hello,” he said in a distracted way. “Am I at the right meeting?”
“Of course you are. What a silly question.”
Mr. Donahue came to his rescue. “Charlotte volunteered to help out with youth group. Isn’t that nice, Pastor?” He looked at Gordon with concern.
“Very nice,” he said smoothly, recovering at least in part, but he sat as far away from her as possible.
They got down to business, and the evening trickled away like sand in an hour glass. Charlotte said little but listened attentively, hoping she’d be prepared for this undertaking. She’d liked being with the junior high girls, but these
were high school kids and she didn’t know if she’d be as good with that age group. But she was willing to try. She’d learned years ago that her faith grew the quickest when she tried things that made her feel insecure. Somehow doing the difficult made her depend on God more and get to know Him better. So she looked on this as an adventure.
The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. When she told Janice what she was doing, Janice told her she was crazy, but she said it affectionately so Charlotte wasn’t offended. She even suggested that Janice come along, but Janice said, “No way. Besides, I’d have to leave Victor for the weekend. I’d miss him too much.” She said this so cheerfully that it made Charlotte feel like pinching her, just to make her more sober. It also dawned on her that she hadn’t even thought of telling Frank she was leaving, so she gave him a call when she hung up with Janice.
“I just wanted you to know that I’ll be gone this weekend.”
“You’re taking me away for a romantic getaway?” Frank said this in the boyish manner that made him so irresistible.
“No, I’m going away with thirty-five high school kids.”
“Oh yuck. I think I’d rather be ill with the flu.”
Charlotte laughed, and their conversation ended a few minutes later with Frank telling her he’d miss her.
On Friday afternoon, Charlotte packed enough for two days and two nights and drove to church since she’d need to take a carload of kids with her. Several of them looked at her shyly, obviously wondering what she was doing there. She sought out Mrs. Donahue to get her marching orders. “Who goes with me?”
“I think I’ll put Louisa, Marcie, and JoAnn in your car. Don’t worry, they’re the easy ones. The most rambunctious boys go with Morton and me, and the least rambunctious go in the church van with Pastor. It would be too much for him otherwise. Bill and Sara are driving their van with everyone else.”
Charlotte glanced over at Pastor as he good naturedly patted a teenager on the back. He seemed comfortable with all ages. She followed Mrs. Donahue’s pointing finger to a cluster of girls in front of the church doors. After introducing herself, she announced who was going with her. Three girls who looked to be sixteen or seventeen followed her to her car. “I hope you don’t mind going with the new person,” Charlotte said, hoping to break the ice.
Crispens Point - Book 1 of the Blackberry County Chronicles Page 8