Hope's Corner

by Chris Keniston

  “Oh, that is a shame. What seems to be the difficulty?” Etta took a seat across the table from her son, then lifted the teapot designed to look like an ice cream sundae, and poured herself a cup.

  “It’s proving to be a bit more challenging than we'd expected to find a temporary secretary who knows both her alphabet and how to answer a phone.”

  “Yes, I heard about the episode with Mrs. Del Rio.”

  Pam wasn’t sure but she thought she noticed Jeff give his mom a quick disapproving glance.

  “Mrs. Del Rio?” Pam ventured to ask.

  “It was nothing,” Jeff said.

  This time Pam was sure. He definitely shot his mom a stern warning. Only if Etta noticed, she paid no attention to it and kept right on talking.

  “Poor Mrs. Del Rio. Whenever she gets confused, she forgets herself and starts speaking to people in her native Spanish. Your father had hoped that wouldn’t pose a problem, but John Haskell told him what happened the other day.” Etta turned to Pam. “The head of the finance committee called the church office asking for a copy of last quarter’s fiscal report. It took over three hours before the poor woman would speak English again.”

  “Ma-ah.” Jeff drawled the word making it sound like two syllables rather than one.

  “I know. I know.” She patted Jeff’s hand. “No need to get your feathers ruffled. I’m not gossiping, just explaining the facts to Pamela Sue.” Etta nudged the dish toward Pam. “Have another slice. You’re looking too thin.”

  Pam almost laughed. It felt good to be mothered. Her mom had died from lung cancer three years ago. Though her mom and Etta Mae were polar opposites in many ways, they had two things in common. They loved their kids and never missed an opportunity to show it. “No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  “What about you, Jefferson?” Etta inched the plate toward her son.

  “Thanks, Ma, but I don’t have time.” The previous difference of opinion quickly forgotten, he gave his mother an appreciative grin, pushed his chair from the table and carried his empty plate to the kitchen sink. “I have to be getting back to the church. Tomorrow is Jennifer Buckner’s funeral.”

  The solemn expression that took over his face stabbed unexpectedly at Pam’s heart, reminding her of her own sorrow. She couldn’t help but wonder if his pain was merely that of a pastor for a parishioner, or if there was something more personal about the sadness she saw in his eyes.

  Knowing how he’d reacted to her bloodied palm earlier this afternoon, it shouldn’t have surprised Pam to see him hurting over the death of someone in his church. And yet the way his shoulders seemed to deflate at the mention of Jennifer’s name led her to think this death was more personal for him.

  Just who was this woman to Pastor Jeff Parker? The name didn’t sound familiar. Maybe Jennifer had moved to town in more recent years. So many things had changed since they were all kids. Especially Jeff Parker. The handsome man who’d come to her rescue on her porch looked nothing like the gangly teen who she remembered playing baseball with her brother.

  Jeff’s youthful sun-bleached blond hair was now a darker sandy color, but the way errant locks occasionally dipped over his brow only served to accentuate the deep sea-green of his eyes. Even in a suit, Pam could see his muscles pressing against the fold of fabric with every graceful movement. He definitely had the strong lean build of a man who worked out on a regular basis or maybe still played sports. She would be willing to wager there wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on him. With his good looks, he should have a string of anxious single women falling at his feet.

  “Don’t you agree, dear?”

  What? Pam felt heat rush up her neck and flush her cheeks at being caught pondering the personal life of Pastor Jefferson Parker. Not that it was possible for Etta Mae to read Pam’s mind. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else. What did you say?”

  “That you’re the perfect answer to Jefferson’s problem.” Etta Mae grinned with pride. She had the same smile plastered on her face in the nearby photo of her taking the blue ribbon for one of her pies at the county fair.

  “Excuse me?” Stunned, Pam was sure all the color that had risen to her cheeks a few moments ago had just drained away. She wasn’t the answer to Jeff’s problems. She wasn’t the answer to anyone’s problems. She had too many of her own demons to face.

  “The church needs a secretary, and you’re looking for work. You won’t mind a temporary job until Ellen comes back from maternity leave, will you?”

  A secretary. Etta Mae was talking about a job. Relief washed through her followed by a rushing wave of embarrassment. That’s what this little tea party of hers was all about. Of course. How stupid, stupid, stupid to think Etta had read her mind and was playing matchmaker. She felt so foolish—again. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  “Nonsense. You told me the other day that you’re havin’ a hard time finding work. We all know Hope’s Corner isn’t a mecca of employment opportunities.” Etta Mae shook her head. “I’m sure, if you go to the church tomorrow afternoon, Jefferson can make time for a proper interview.”

  For the first time since her mind had wandered off contemplating Jeff’s personal life, she dared to look over at him. He appeared as dismayed as she felt. She had a feeling this wasn’t the first time Etta had blindsided him with unexpected plans. And the small sigh she thought she heard escape from him told her that he didn’t expect this to be the last.

  “Thank you, Etta, but I don’t know anything about working at a church.”

  “It can’t be any different than working for a bunch of lawyers. Last I looked, phones worked the same all over. Instead of clients wanting to sue, parishioners’ll be asking for prayers. You’ll do just fine.”

  Pam looked to Jeff for guidance or maybe salvation. He smiled, hitched a shoulder, and made a lost-cause gesture with his hands. If he wasn’t going to challenge his mother, then there was no reason for her to. In the past three weeks, if she’d learned one thing living next door to Etta Mae Parker, it was that there was no point in disagreeing with her. The woman had more grit than Rooster Cogburn.

  Besides, Pam couldn’t very well argue that Etta Mae didn’t have a point—Pam did need a job. She glanced in Jeff’s direction. Oh, what the heck. How hard could working at a church be anyway?

  CHAPTER TWO

  This was the day from hell. One of the worst of Jeff’s life. Second only to the day the nurse at Mercy Hospital had called to tell him Jennifer Buckner had not survived.

  Funerals weren’t his favorite thing. This funeral was a damn nightmare.

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

  A concept he’d learned early in life. From the moment he’d understood most things were finite, his parents had drummed into him the idea of the circle of life. For everything a time, a place under heaven. And in all of that, the unwavering faith in the wisdom of God. Where was that wisdom today?

  Jennifer was only a year behind him in school. Smart and friendly, she was just like any of the hundreds of others who had passed through the halls of the local high school. Like everyone else in town, he’d danced at her wedding to Frank Buckner. As far as brides go, Jenny had been among the prettiest he’d ever seen. It wasn’t right.

  Across from him, Jenny’s mother sat stoically staring at the simple white coffin. She’d chosen to bury her only daughter beside Jenny’s dad in what should have been her own grave.

  He worried about Mrs. Harris. Through everything he hadn’t seen her shed a single tear. Jeff’s father, Senior Pastor Harlon Parker, had come out of his sickbed to officiate the service. Despite being on medical leave to recover from a triple bypass, Jeff’s dad had done his best to offer the grieving woman comfort. But not even the beloved Harlon Parker could soothe the bleeding wound that Frank Buckner had inflicted on Jennifer’s mother. He’d cut into her heart as cleanly as if he’d sliced her with the same knife he’d used to slit her daughter’s throat.

  Jeff wanted to go to her, te
ll her all would be well, not to despair. But how could he do that? Him of all people.

  Jenny had come to him, trusted him, no one else. Not his father, the experienced pastor, the man with the knowledge and history to have handled things…differently. His father would have found a way to stop her from returning time after time to an abusive husband. Harlon Parker wouldn’t have let her down. Now Jeff stood among a crowd of so many at Jenny’s funeral. He’d failed.

  Tomorrow at St Joseph’s, Frank Buckner’s parents would hold a simple memorial service for the son who had also turned the deadly knife on himself. Half the town would be there. The other half who couldn’t understand, couldn’t forgive, would not. Jeff needed to attend. It was his job to encourage forgiveness, to help the congregation heal.

  He had no right. How could he lead the way to forgiveness when, if given the chance, if it would bring Jenny back and help clear his conscience, he would gladly put Frank Buckner in the grave again with Jeff’s bare hands.

  Considering the circumstances, his father was holding up well. Soon he’d be able to return to his duties at the church. Only part-time at first, but it wouldn’t be long until the congregation would once again be fully under his gentle guidance and protection. Then it would be time. Jeff had already faced the truth. He wasn’t cut out to be a pastor. He should have stayed in the corporate world. Maybe if he had, Jenny would still be alive.

  As soon as his father was well enough to return to work, Jeff would tell his parents. They’d be upset. Tell him that he was being rash, turning away from his calling. He’d expect that, be prepared, but he couldn’t go on living a lie. He knew now he would never fill his father’s shoes. Senior Pastor Harlon Parker would never have let Jenny Buckner die.

  In all the years growing up that she’d attended services at Hope’s Corner Community Church, Pam had never been inside the pastoral offices. For some inexplicable reason, the thought of working there now, even temporarily, scared the heck out of her.

  It made no sense. This would be a great place to work. The lovely old building was perched on the edge of a creek-side lot. Large plateglass windows ran the length of the rear wall behind the pulpit, across the main lobby, and all the way back to the offices. As a child during Sunday services, looking out the window behind Pastor Harlon at the trees and grass, and especially the spring flowers, had always made Pam feel a little closer to God. Sometimes even more than his sermon.

  Maybe it was the waiting that was making her feel so edgy? It had been over half an hour since she’d first arrived. Jeff had been on the phone. With a few gestures, she had motioned to him that she would wait in the lobby. Now, sitting in one of the lobby’s wingback chairs, Pam stared steadily at a blue jay building a nest and wondered what had her feeling so skittish.

  For just a moment she glanced up at the ceiling mural, studied the fluffy white painted clouds and pastel blue sky. The chubby cherubs in angel’s wings made her think of Travis.

  “I don’t know. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, after all. For heaven’s sake, I’m a paralegal. You of all people know how hard I worked to be a paralegal. It doesn’t seem right to give that up now.” She turned her attention back to the busy bird.

  As if disturbed by her complaints, the bird seemed to look in her direction and then flew away, leaving Pam with an absurd feeling of emptiness. “Oh, Travis, I know I shouldn’t let it upset me. It’s only a bird. Birds are supposed to fly away.”

  She let her eyes fall closed, then opened them, tilting her head heavenward, and focused on the cute little dark-haired cherub on the far corner of the ceiling. “Do you think, if we’d had children, they would have looked like that?” With a casual gesture, she raised one hand and pointed at the ceiling.

  “I’d always thought someday we’d have a family. You’d have been a wonderful father.” She shook her head and blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Travis. Forget I said anything. I don’t know why I’m being so gloomy. I’m sure, if Jeff offers me the position, working here would be just fine. Ellen only has ten more weeks of maternity leave, and then I can go back to real job hunting. I mean, somewhere in this town there has to be a lawyer in need of a good paralegal. Right?”

  Just then she heard the door to Jeff’s office squeak open, his shoes slapping on the linoleum, followed by his gentle voice. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Some days the phone never stops ringing.”

  After a quick smile, a handshake, and gathering up her purse, she followed him into his office.

  “It was nice of you to come.” He gestured toward one of two vacant chairs in front of his desk. “When my mother makes up her mind, there’s no stopping her. You don’t have to put yourself through this, if you don’t want to.”

  Something wasn’t right. He was smiling, talking, saying all the right things, but something was terribly wrong. What little flicker of light she’d seen in his eyes the day before was no longer there. “Is everything all right?”

  “Excuse me?” He squared his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but you look…upset.” Oh, God. Open mouth, insert foot. “I’m so sorry. I forgot. You had to go to a funeral this morning. Please forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive. Losing Jenny was hard for everyone.” Picking up a nearby pen, he began tapping it softly against the blotter. “Last week was her thirty-third birthday. You might remember her as Jenny Harris. She was a year behind Jake and me in school. Married Frank Buckner a little over two years ago.”

  Pam shook her head. “Can’t say I remember her. Jake’s six years older than me, Bo’s three. If she wasn’t in either of their classes, it’s unlikely I’d have known her. After Travis and I moved to Dallas, Mom would share every detail, and I mean every detail of the weddings and births in Hope’s Corner, but it sounds like Jenny got married after Mom died. I’m sorry.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He set down the pen and forced a smile. “Let’s get to the reason you’re here—a job.”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure if smiling at him was the right thing to do. What she really felt like doing was to run behind the desk, pull him into a big old bear hug, and whisper in his ear that soon it wouldn’t hurt so much. She still wasn’t convinced the pain ever went away altogether, but at least after time she knew it wouldn’t hurt quite as much.

  “The work is Monday through Friday—”

  Interrupted by the ringing of the phone, he lifted a finger at her and took the call. “Community Church. Yes, Mr. Haskell, it’s a lovely day…mmm-hmm…mmm-hmm… Excuse me, but I have someone in the office now. Can I get back to you in a bit? Great, thank you.” He disconnected the call and turned his attention back to Pam.

  “Where were we? He flashed her a sincere smile. Not the strained imitation he’d worn since she had first arrived, but an honest, twinkle-in-his-eyes smile. Praise God she’d already been sitting down. For the first time since Travis, she felt her knees go weak.

  He went over the salary, the hours, and explained his schedule. Sometimes he might need her to accompany him on certain home visits of the elderly, but the majority of what he said wasn’t registering. She was nearly mesmerized by the bright sparkle that had returned to his eyes. What was the matter with her? She didn’t notice men. Not since she was six years old and had fallen in love with Travis.

  No. She wasn’t going to do that ever again. This job was not a good idea. There was only one man in her life, and he was gone. That was it.

  “Excuse me,” a delicate voice interrupted.

  “Yes, how may I help you?” Jeff pushed to his feet and stepped around the desk to stand next to the short, dark-haired, and very pregnant woman.

  “I’m on my way to my doctor’s office.”

  A flicker of panic flashed across Jeff’s eyes. The sight so reminded Pam of an old sitcom that she almost laughed out loud.

  “Shall I call an ambulance?” he asked in a rush.

  “Naw, nothin’ like that. It’s just my regular checkup, but
my car started riding funny. I pulled into your lot here and realized I have a flat.”

  “Oh, I see.” He looked so relieved, Pam had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

  “Anyhow, I found the jack but can’t figure out where it goes. I’m not exactly built for crawling underneath a car and looking for the spot in the manual’s diagram.”

  “Good heavens, no. If you have a spare, I’ll be happy to change the tire for you. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to put you to any trouble.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure, ma’am.” He flashed the petite woman a broad grin. When she batted her lashes and blushed in response, Pam wondered how many broken hearts were scattered around Hope’s Corner. The man’s smile was lethal.

  Still smiling, he turned to Pam. “Would you mind waiting? This won’t take long.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Great, be back in a minute.” Without a second glance in Pam’s direction, he collected the soon-to-be-mommy’s keys and escorted her to the front door.

  Outside the Texas afternoon heat slapped Jeff in the face like a cast iron skillet primed to fry an egg. “If you’d please pop the trunk,” he asked the woman waddling at his side. “I’ll get the spare, and we’ll have this taken care of in no time.”

  Settling the jack under the side of the car, he loosened the nuts to the flat tire and cranked the handle on the jack. Watching the tire lift off the ground, he thought about Pamela Sue. She didn’t seem to be the least bit upset that he’d kept her waiting for so long. One of the parishioners, Mrs. Trumble, was refusing to take her medicine again. The only person who could calm her quickly was his dad, so the frustrated daughter would always call the church when her mother was being ornery. Unlike his dad, it could take Jeff close to an hour to get the old woman to cooperate. With Pammy Sue waiting for him, he was lucky today had taken little more than half that time.

  The car in the air, he removed the loosened lug nuts. He had to admit, he didn’t know what to make of Pammy Sue. The woman sitting politely in his mother’s kitchen and in the church lobby couldn’t have been the terrified person he’d found on her front porch. Could she?