Hope's Corner

by Chris Keniston

  “Excuse me?”

  “About moving on to pastor another church. Mabel was just telling me that she’d heard you were planning on moving on. Leaving us.” Alice paused to wave at her sister-in-law taking a seat across the room.

  Fortunately for Jeff, the other woman was accompanied by the Friday Afternoon Garden Club, or he’d have no doubt had Alice and her sister-in-law at his side. Though the longer he chatted with Alice, the possibility of being surrounded by the entire garden club loomed more heavily.

  “It would be a crying shame if you ask me.”

  “Yes, well, that’s not totally—”

  “Oh, I know this isn’t a very exciting place for such a handsome young man as yourself,” she interrupted, “but I just love seeing how the younger folks have been filling the pews on Sundays.”

  “I don’t know that I can take—”

  “Why just last week, Sarah Gibson told me how much she appreciated your sermon from the book of Proverbs. The one you did about a month or so ago. Said the moment she’d gotten home, she pulled out her Bible and started reading. Prattled on about grabbin’ a mad dog by the ears, and how she’d never realized how much could be learned about raising children by really reading the Bible. That’s why she and her boys have been at church every Sunday since. I love your daddy to death, and I’ll never be able to thank him and your mama enough, for how he stood by me and kept me grounded when my little J.J. went missing down river. But we all have so been looking forward to the day we’ll be blessed with the gifts of both Pastors Parker. It just seems a shame to me, if having your daddy back means losing you. Just a shame.”

  Jeff didn’t get to say another word. He couldn’t explain he wasn’t leaving for another church; he was leaving the church altogether. Or that any spurt in attendance was more likely coincidence than his doing. No, Alice Healey had already turned about, grabbed her husband by the arm, still mumbling about what a shame and meeting up with the garden club. The deep breath her husband blew out told Jeff that he was resigned to being the sole man at a tableful of gabbing gardeners. Jeff was almost tempted to throw Earl Healey a lifesaver and invite the poor man to join him. Almost.

  “She’s right, you know.” Redding Foster slid a plate of Mabel’s beef stew on Jeff’s table. “I know folks have been talking. And I don’t claim to understand what happened with you and Pammy Sue, but I’d like to think I know you well enough to know it ain’t what some folks have been saying.”

  It took Jeff a few moments to realize his old baseball coach was waiting for an answer. “Thank you. Your support means a lot to me.”

  “Then I’m right, ain’t I? You ain’t been dipping your toe in those waters?”

  Jeff had to laugh. Not loud enough to gather attention but just enough to feel a little better. “No, sir. I haven’t been dipping my toe in any waters. Things aren’t always the way they look.”

  “Good. Now that we’ve straightened that out, are you at least thinking about it?”

  Jeff felt surprise widen his eyes. “You want me to…” He couldn’t bring himself to say dip his toe in the waters again, and he certainly couldn’t bring himself to say have sex with.

  “Did I say that?” Praise God, Redding didn’t make Jeff finish his sentence.

  Jeff nodded. When the café owner’s eyes narrowed, Jeff changed his mind and shook his head.

  “I said think. You can do a lot worse than Pammy Sue. That’s a woman who could keep a man happy for a lifetime. A married lifetime. Like Ms. Healey said, right here in Hope’s Corner. You think on that.” Again Jeff didn’t get a chance to reply, before Redding had turned on his heel and made his way to the kitchen.

  Back in his seat, his Bible open again to Ephesians chapter three, Jeff found his mind wandering away from the words on the page. What Alice Healey had said played over in his mind. Younger folks filling the pews. Even his sister-in-law Terri had said something about his sermons and the younger generation. With everything on his mind, Jenny Buckner, Pam’s nightmares, not letting his dad down, and then putting him in the hospital, Jeff hadn’t really paid much attention to church attendance. Could these women be right? Was he really making a difference? Dear God, did that mean his father was right? This has always been Jeff’s true calling?

  On the page before him, Ephesians 3:20 seemed to shout at him. He who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all you ask or think. That’s what he’d always been taught to think. To expect from God. Exceedingly, abundantly, above. Jeff raised his eyes to the ceiling. Maybe he did still believe God answered prayers. Okay, Father, I’m asking. Is my dad right? Am I making a mistake walking away without a fight?

  “Mind a little company?” Pam rested her hands on the top of the seat across from him.

  “Of course not.” He stood and pulled out the chair for her. “Decided not to brown bag it today?”

  Pam smiled. “Egg salad sandwich and carrot sticks are in a brown bag in the fridge at church.”

  The way she hesitated, stared at him, almost as though she were seeing him for the first time, made him want to check if he had stew broth on his chin.

  “You really do know me well, don’t you?” she finally continued.

  “Because I know you usually bring your lunch to work?”

  “That’s part of it.” She closed her eyes, blew out a soft slow breath, and lifted her gaze to meet his. “I had lunch with Abigail today. Didn’t get much sleep last night—”

  “Me either,” he cut in.

  “Well, actually, I guess I didn’t get any sleep at all.”

  “Me either.” He took a sip of his cold coffee.

  “We need to talk.”

  He leaned back and set his clasped hands on the table. “Okay.”

  “No. I don’t mean here.” Her gaze darted quickly about, scanning the room. Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I want to talk about…” She glanced around the room again, as though ready to share government secrets. “Before you make any decisions, I want to talk about…us.”

  The time had come to face facts. As much as Pam hated admitting her sister might be right about anything, she had to admit Valerie was right about at least one thing. Pam was too young to spend the rest of her life living in the past, mourning a future she’d never have.

  Which meant taking all the subtle and not-so-subtle advice from Abigail, Euphemia, and even Etta Mae seriously. It was time for Pam to leave Travis in his corner of her heart and move on. And unless she wanted to keep lying to herself, moving on meant giving herself a chance to love Jeff. All right. If she wasn’t going to lie to herself any more, than facing facts meant accepting she was already in love with Jefferson Davis Parker. The question now was, would he be willing to give them a chance, after she’d behaved like a near-raving lunatic the last few days? “I have to get back to work. Come to the church with me?”

  “Probably not a good idea.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to be able to get a lick of work done with everything going on. Besides, the church is private and neutral. I don’t think rumors will start flying as easily if we’re together at church, than if you come to my place alone for say…dinner.”

  That easy Parker smile spread across Jeff’s face. “Is that an invitation?”

  “Yes, if you still want to accept after we talk.”

  The charming grin slipped, an expressionless curtain descended in its place. “Fair enough. Let me settle up here, and I’ll meet you at the church.”

  All the way through town, Pam had rehearsed what she’d say when she found Jeff. What she hadn’t expected was to find him someplace as public as the café. It made sense to invite him back to the church. With only an hour for lunch, and having spent most of it with Miss Abigail, it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of options left where they could go. Pulling into the church parking lot, she wondered if maybe this had not been one of her best ideas. Sitting alone at her desk for almost ten minutes, she’d gone from doubtful, to confident, back toward con
fused, and then right on down the road to she’d-completely-lost-her-mind.

  When the main glass door to the administration area of the church squeaked open, she stiffened in her seat. “Don’t lose your nerve now,” she whispered to herself.

  “Sorry it took so long. I ran into Heather Goodstein on my way out of the café. She felt obligated to tell me I could count on her full support.” Jeff paused by Pam’s desk.

  “This town loves you.”

  “Mmm.” He glanced out the window at the near empty parking lot. “I wonder.”

  “What?”

  “I’m thinking maybe, just maybe, Mom and Euphemia have been working the phones this morning.”

  “And what if they have? It doesn’t change the basic facts. You are a fundamental part of this church and this town, and you can’t let pompous John Haskell run you out of town on a rail.”

  “Don't forget tarred and feathered, too."

  She shot him her best don't-push-your-luck glare.

  "Sorry, but I’m doing no such thing.”

  “Then what do you call it?”

  “Facing facts.”

  “Malarkey.” Pam sprang from her seat and jabbed a finger in Jeff’s chest. “How many people have to tell you we need you before you believe us?”

  “We?” Jeff’s tone softened. An unexpected heat flared in his gaze to match the sizzle that shot up her arm when he gently brushed his hand against her. “Who is we? Who needs me, Pam?”

  “The…the town does. We all do.” She swallowed hard, every nerve tingling where his fingers caressed the sides of her arms. “I do.”

  At first she thought maybe she’d said the words too softly for him to hear, because he said nothing, just stared at her. She’d opened her mouth to say it again when his lips descended on hers, and the sizzle ignited into a flame. Her arms wound around him, pulling him closer. She needed this man now, today, tomorrow, for always.

  His hands dropped to her backside, his fingers drew slow lazy circles across her hips before drawing her more tightly against him. She could feel every inch of him, the strength of him, the wanting. In a matter of seconds she found herself backed up against her desk. Something heavy dropped from the desktop to the floor with a thud. It didn’t matter. Papers fluttered to the ground, when Jeff spun about and lifted her onto his lap. One of them moaned, or both of them, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t care.

  His lips pulled away from hers, and she nearly whimpered at the loss. Her fingers ran a frantic path through his hair, guiding him back to her starving mouth, only he had a different plan, trailing soft moist kisses along her jaw, settling on the sweetest spot behind her ear. Another thud sounded nearby followed by the muted clunk of something scraping against the floor.

  She felt Jeff’s fingers stiffen and stop seconds before registering the recent sounds as the door bumping against the wall and the trash can skidding out of place. Before she could catch her breath, Jeff managed to set her on her feet and spin her behind him just in time to see Sandra Quinn standing wide-eyed and slack jawed beside the open office door and tipped-over wastebasket.

  Not sure who was more shocked at the discovery of her and Jeff doing an encore of their grilled-cheeseless-sandwich impression, Pam tried to find something sensible to say.

  Sandra found her voice first. “I see the rumors are true?”

  Jeff cleared his throat, whether needing air or time, Pam wasn’t sure. “Despite how this looks, I can assure you most of what you’ve heard is probably not true.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” Sandra turned to Pam. “You seemed so sincere when you said there was nothing romantic going on between you and the preacher. When I heard the latest, I thought the least I could do was rush right over here to let you know it’s all over town the two of you are getting married.” She turned back to Jeff. “Now I don’t know who to believe.”

  “Married?” the two echoed. Apparently Etta Mae worked faster than Pam gave her credit for. Searching for how to respond, Pam wished she’d had time to talk to Jeff first privately. The front door of the church squeaked open once more, and John Haskell marched into the office stopping abruptly beside Sandra.

  “Why, Miss Quinn.” The old goat nodded in polite recognition. “What a pleasant surprise running into you here. I’ve been meaning to thank you on behalf of the church board for your devoted service to our elderly shut-ins.”

  Sandra’s gaze shifted briefly to Jeff before settling on Mr. Haskell. All the air in Pam’s lungs lurched to her throat and clogged any ability to breathe. She’d done it again. Caught devouring Jeff’s tonsils by a parishioner, she’d thrust more problems on a man she only wanted to help.

  “You’re quite welcome, Mr. Haskell.” Sandra lifted her chin. “But I assure you our pastor has already expressed the church’s appreciation. Not that it’s necessary. I’m only doing my Christian service.” Sandra flashed John Haskell a stiff smile, hefted her handbag onto her shoulder, and offered Pam a more natural grin. “Call me if you find you need any help.”

  Nodding at Sandra like a bobble-head doll, Pam took in a relieved breath. Sandra hadn’t said anything to fuel John Haskell’s mission to replace Jeff as pastor. With Sandra out the door, Pam turned her attention to the man intent on single-handedly ridding Hope’s Corner of immorality, and Jefferson Parker, only by the time she’d cast her attention on John Haskell, she realized he was pumping Jeff’s arm as though drilling for oil.

  “I can’t tell you how happy we are to hear the good news.” The head of the church board of directors now had a double-handed hold on Jeff and a grin to outdo the Cheshire cat. “Such wonderful news. Of course the little misunderstanding is behind us. Yes. Wonderful news.”

  He finally let go of Jeff and spun around, reaching for Pam. Somehow the broad grin seemed more predatory than congratulatory, and she took a quick sidestep away from John Haskell and closer to Jeff.

  “Yes, yes.” The old man beamed. “My wife is always right. Just this morning over coffee, we discussed what an asset you’ve both been to the church. Yes, yes. The announcement came as no surprise. All is well and good.”

  Before either of them could edge in a response, John Haskell barreled out the door as briskly as he’d entered, still muttering, “All is well and good.”

  Jeff stared through the glass doorway at the man’s departing back. “Why do I feel I’ve just fallen down a rabbit hole?”

  “Do you suppose this is how Alice felt?” Pam slid her fingers into Jeff’s grip.

  “Maybe.” Still looking into the empty parking lot, he continued, “I asked God if it was a mistake to walk away without a fight. I wonder if taking away the fight is His way of answering yes?”

  “Does this mean you’re thinking of staying on? Not leaving the church? Not leaving Hope’s Corner?”

  “That depends.” He turned his gaze on her.

  “On what?”

  Jeff squeezed her hand, his eyes focused so intently on her that she thought for maybe a moment he could see her soul. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “On whether or not the rumors are true.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “It’s time.” Etta Mae Parker leaned over her husband’s favorite recliner. “Euphemia and I have done all we can do. The rest is up to you.”

  Bundled under the blanket Etta had crocheted for Harlon while he was in the hospital for bypass surgery, her husband seemed too old, too frail. The last few days—since her son had announced his intentions to leave the church and rejoin the corporate world—had aged her husband ten years. She’d fought the fear of what this change would do to her family, if she couldn’t help her son see the light, so to speak. But she refused to lose what was left of the man she loved. She wanted her husband back, all of him.

  Harlon took a slow sip of his hot chocolate. “Little marshmallows are the best. Whipped cream is for sissies.”

  “Harlon Parker.”

  “I know, Etta, dear. I know it’s time. Every father wants to remain a Super
man in his son’s eyes. Perhaps my eagerness to remain his hero has cost us both more than I ever imagined.”

  “Honest to heavens, I don’t know which of the two of you is worse. There’s no sin in what happened to you anymore than what happened to our son with Jenny Buckner. Y’all are men of God, not God. You can only do so much.”

  Senior Pastor Harlon Parker blew out a staggered sigh. “I’ll call him now.” Harlon reached for the nearby telephone, flashing the famous Parker smile at his wife. “Maybe some of your blueberry pie will make the telling easier.”

  Nearly forty years of marriage and that grin still held the same power over her. Standing to go warm the pie she’d baked earlier in the day, Etta Mae hoped Jeff answered his phone. If her calculations were correct, and things had progressed as planned, the happy news should be reaching Jeff anytime now, and once he blew in here to confront her, there’d be no listening to anything else.

  Jeff didn’t need to hold his breath. He was fairly sure anticipation had stopped his lungs from functioning altogether. As a matter of fact, his heart was none too steady at the moment either. “You said you needed me.”

  Pam nodded.

  “Was that true?”

  She nodded, just once, but affirmation nonetheless.

  “The whole town thinks we’re engaged.”

  Her chin dipped in agreement once again.

  “Most likely my mother’s doing.”

  Again, she nodded. Jeff wasn’t sure if he should be concerned Pam wasn’t speaking or delighted she wasn’t disagreeing.

  “I know this isn’t very traditional, and it’s certainly not what you deserve, but—”

  “I’ll Fly Away” burst loudly into play from Jeff’s cell phone tucked away in his breast pocket. Silently cursing the poor timing, he whipped out the phone and glanced at the caller ID. “It’s my dad,” he told Pam. “Are you all right? … Yes… Right now? Can’t it… Yes, Dad, I’m sure it is, but it’s not… Yes. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with Mom anyway… Yeah, I know she does… Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”