Come to the Table

by Neta Jackson

  But David Brown had put on the brakes. “We can’t go hiring part-time people willy-nilly. We still haven’t hired a full-time pastor to replace Pastor Clark! I mean, Nick here is doing a fine job as an intern, but that isn’t . . . well, you know, not a long-term solution. And this girl isn’t even a member yet!”

  Pastor Cobbs had leaned back in his chair and casually stroked his chin. “True. But sometimes we need to respond to what God is doing now and get on His time line. Seems to me the pantry is now, the need is now. The train’s already out of the station and picking up speed. How can we get on board?”

  David Brown had thrown up his hands, as if defeated, but the pastor just said mildly, “It’s at least worth exploring.” Nick had been given the assignment of running the idea past Kathryn to see if she’d be open to it.

  As the three-flat came into view, Nick slowed his pace even though he knew he was already late for supper. Would Kat be open to it? She didn’t have a full-time job yet—and if none was forthcoming, maybe her hours at The Common Cup plus ten hours for the pantry could sustain her in the short run.

  He smiled to himself. Maybe the short run was all she’d need financially. After all, he’d be graduating in January, and then . . .

  Pulling the Douglasses’ mail out of the box in the foyer, he quietly took the stairs two at a time to the third floor, dropped the mail in a box for that purpose, and then hustled back down to the second-floor apartment. Something smelled good. Knocking at the door, he opened it—unlocked as usual—and stuck his head in. “Sorry I’m late! Hope you saved some of whatever that is for me.”

  Kat appeared from nowhere, blue eyes dancing, and pulled him in. “We did wait for you! We’re having a celebration!” She turned and yelled, “Nick’s here! Come and get it!”

  When everyone was at the table, Kat said a brief thank-you prayer and started serving up the soup. Seemed like she and Rochelle couldn’t stop grinning. What was going on? Bree shrugged at him as if to say, “Don’t ask me.” But Nick couldn’t help salivating as Kat handed him a bowl of the thick, savory soup and a small plate with hot corn bread, slathered with butter and honey. He eyed the golden soup. “What is it?”

  “African Peanut Soup. It’s got diced sweet red peppers and onions and brown rice . . . and you can add cilantro and peanuts and sour cream if you want.”

  “Whoa.” He took a large spoonful. “Oh, man . . . fantastic.” Then he looked around the table. “So what’s the celebration?”

  “Yeah,” Bree pouted. “They wouldn’t tell me.”

  Kat giggled. “We wanted to tell you both. You tell them, Rochelle.”

  Before Avis’s daughter had finished the afternoon’s saga, Nick had almost forgotten about his soup. “I can’t believe it! The school board actually took Bethune Elementary off the closing list because of those extra hearings?”

  Kat nodded, the excitement in her face still palpable. “Yep. After Rochelle talked to her mom in South Africa, we called Jodi Baxter—you know she’s a third-grade teacher at Bethune, right? She said the two hearings were packed with parents and teachers giving testimonies about the superior job Bethune was doing, in spite of overcrowded classrooms. It may have even been a good thing Mrs. D was out of the country, because obviously she wasn’t orchestrating this.”

  Rochelle jumped in. “But according to Sister Jodi, a couple teachers had already panicked about losing their jobs and resigned. She called my mom this afternoon too, to let her know. And—you tell him, Kat.”

  Nick was enjoying this tag-team tale—but since they were doing all the talking, he decided to tackle more of the African Peanut Soup and corn bread.

  “Well, it’s not a sure thing, so nobody say anything—not even you, Big Ears.” Kat pointed a finger at Conny and he giggled, making chomping noises at her finger as if he were going to bite it off. “But Jodi said that Mrs. Douglass said to tell me that she’s going to put in a special request to hire me as a replacement for one of those teachers, especially since I’ve been working with some of these kids this summer.”

  Nick’s eyes widened.

  “Oh, Kat!” Bree clapped her hands to her face. “That would be awesome! I’ll feel so much better going back to school if I know you’ve got a teaching job for this fall.”

  Nick felt as if his grin could reach ear to ear. “Okay. That’s it.” He stood up. “I don’t care if everybody’s watching or what anybody says. I’m gonna do it anyway.” He pulled a startled Kat out of her chair, lifted her off her feet in a big hug, and kissed her full on the mouth. “Oh, baby,” he whispered in her ear, “this has God written all over it.”

  “Ewwwww.” Conny made a gagging noise behind them. “Mushy stuff.”

  Nick managed to get Kat out the door for a walk to the lake while Rochelle and Bree did dishes. “There’s supposed to be a full moon tonight,” he said. “Maybe we’ll see a moon rise.” Any more “mushy stuff,” he vowed to himself, was going to be done in private.

  But he had something else on his mind. “I’ve got some news too—though your news changes things quite a bit.”

  She tugged on his arm she was holding, peering up at him with laughing eyes. “What? Tell me!”

  “Well, something came up at the meeting I had today at the church . . .” As they walked the jogging path along the lake, he told her about Debra Meeks’s proposal for SouledOut to hire her for ten hours a week, to give the food pantry a chance to really get off the ground in a solid way. “It’s a real compliment, Kat. Pastor Cobbs and the elders really appreciate you.” He decided he didn’t need to repeat David Brown’s objections. Not right now, anyway. “I thought, if you don’t get a job offer, maybe your hours at the coffee shop and another ten at SouledOut might keep body and soul together for a while. If you’re offered a teaching job at Bethune Elementary, it’s sort of a moot point, I guess. Still, thought you ought to know.”

  Kat was quiet a long time. The breeze off the lake blew strands of her loose hair across his face, and they simply walked in silence. Was she disappointed? Trying to decide between a teaching job and the food pantry? She probably needed to think about it. He’d support her, whatever she decided.

  “I know who should get the food pantry job.”

  She spoke in a voice so soft he had to lean close to hear her. “What?”

  “I know who should get the food pantry job.”

  He was a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if the church actually comes up with a budget for it, I know who should get the food pantry job. Rochelle.”

  Nick stopped right in the middle of the jogging path and turned Kat so he could look in her face. “Rochelle? Are you sure?” Oh, David Brown would have a cow over that, for sure.

  Kat nodded. “Whether I get the teaching job or not. Because, first of all, she hasn’t been able to find any job at all, and this would at least be a first step. Would look great on a résumé. But even more than that, she’s good. She’s street smart. She’s a woman of color—which makes her more accessible to some people, I think. Not just a goody-goody white girl helping out the poor people. And because she’s got a vision to take the food pantry out of the seat-of-the-pants operation we’ve been doing and make it sustainable. She could do it.” She seemed to hesitate. “And because . . .”

  He waited a long moment, but she seemed lost in thought. Finally he prompted, “Because?”

  She took his arm and started them walking again. “Because I think I’ve been too invested in the food pantry being ‘my thing.’ It’s God’s thing. I’ve been holding on too hard. And it’s time to let go.”

  Chapter 45

  The last day of August, Kat stood on the edge of the lake-shore looking out at the horizon, small waves flowing in and tickling her bare feet. Could it be a more beautiful day? The sky arching over Lake Michigan and the Chicago skyline was so crystalline clear it almost hurt to look at it. A warm breeze off the lake fingered her hair, which she was wearing down and loose around her sho
ulders. The temperature was heading toward ninety, the weather guy had said. As cold as Lake Michigan could be, even in summer, a dunk in the lake today might feel good.

  “Are you ready, Kathryn?” Avis Douglass moved up to her side and took her hand—smooth, dark fingers with painted nails laced with her pale ones. On the other side of her, Nick took her other hand.

  Kat turned her head from side to side, smiling at both of them. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Her voice squeaked a little. Okay, so she was nervous.

  The three of them moved into the shallows. Not so bad. Chilly, but not painful.

  But as the water crept up her calves and reached her knees— Whoa! The cold water suddenly sent shivers up her back. “Yikes!”

  “Ditto that.” Avis gripped her hand tighter.

  Nick laughed. “I think we’ve got a ways to go. Hang on, ladies.”

  The cold water crept up her thighs, then to her waist. Kat’s teeth started to chatter. To her relief, Avis said, “This is far enough.”

  They turned around, Kat still in the middle, now facing the shore. There on the sand stood most of the congregation from SouledOut Community Church. Brygitta stood front and center, her hands clasped in front of her chest, grinning with delight, her wispy pixie cut standing up in the wind. Rochelle stood a few feet away beside her stepdad, Conny crouched at their feet with little Gracie Baxter, poking the wet sand with a stick. Other comforting faces stood out here and there in the crowd: Pastor Cobbs with First Lady Rose . . . Edesa Baxter leaning against her husband, Josh, a portrait in black and white . . . Josh’s parents and sister . . . Estelle Bentley, swathed in a purple caftan and matching headdress, and her husband, Harry . . . redheaded Gabby Fairbanks and her husband, Philip, holding hands . . . several of the Yada Yada sisters . . .

  Her church family. Come to see her seal her new birth, even if she had reached toddler stage.

  A few faces were missing. David and Mary Brown had announced that morning during the worship service that “God is calling us” to one of the big suburban churches west of the city. Kat thought that was strange, since she was pretty sure the Browns lived less than a ten-minute drive from SouledOut. Not that she’d gotten to know them personally or anything, though Mary Brown had always greeted her nicely. Well, gushing might be the word. But Nick had whispered to her, “It’s probably for the best.” Whatever he meant by that.

  Two other faces were missing. Not that she’d really expected them to be there, but miracles could happen, couldn’t they? She’d called her parents two weeks ago and told them she was getting baptized and becoming a member of SouledOut Community Church, and did they want to come? It was Labor Day weekend after all, maybe they could take a little vacation to the Windy City. And there was somebody special she wanted them to meet. But her dad had a golf outing to raise money for diabetes research, and her mother didn’t want to come alone—

  “Kat, you can hold your nose with one hand, but grab my wrist with your other one,” Nick was saying. “Then just relax . . . Sister Avis and I will put you under and pull you back up, okay?”

  His words were almost drowned out by the sound of the wind and splashing waves. Kat nodded, her teeth still chattering, and felt their hands holding her securely. Closing her eyes and feeling the hot sun on her face, she heard Avis’s voice speaking loudly above the wind: “Kathryn Davies, on confession of your faith in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, and in obedience to His commandment to be baptized, we baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

  Kat felt herself falling . . . falling . . . but held . . . cold water rushing in over her head and her whole body . . . and then up again, bursting into the sunlight, water streaming down her face.

  “Hallelujah!” Avis shouted. “Glory!”

  Grinning, Nick put a strong arm around her waist as they waded through the water back toward shore. And then she heard it, her “family” on the beach, clapping and singing an old gospel spiritual . . .

  Tell me, how did you feel when you came out the wilderness

  Came out the wilderness, Came out the wilderness

  Tell me, how did you feel when you came out the wilderness

  Leaning on the Lord!

  Towels were wrapped around her, Brygitta and Edesa and Rochelle all gave her hugs, and then Pastor Cobbs was booming, “Gather around, church, and let’s pray for our sister, who is also asking to be received as a member here at SouledOut . . .”

  As the pastor’s words poured blessings over her, Kat felt Nick’s arm still around her waist. In one way she was glad she hadn’t become a member of the church at the same time Nick had. This had to be her decision, her step of faith, declaring her own desire to follow Jesus. At the same time, she couldn’t think of any better way to “own” the life Nick had chosen, to walk alongside him in this journey of faith.

  Wherever that journey might lead.

  After Pastor Cobbs’s “Amen!” people crowded around to congratulate her and give her hugs, but finally the crowd thinned and people headed home. Nick took her hand and pulled her aside. “Let’s walk up the beach,” he said. Then he looked stricken at the white capris and loose white tunic she’d worn into the water—soaking wet. “Or maybe you need to get out of those wet clothes. We could get you home first.”

  Kat laughed. “In this heat and wind? They’ll be dry in ten minutes. Come on, race you!” And she took off running barefoot in the sand, though it was more like slogging, and he easily caught up with her.

  Walking hand in hand in silence, they left the beach and wandered along the path in the lakeside park. “Ah, I know where we’re going.” She grinned up at him. “Our bench.”

  “Mm-hmm. Seems appropriate for the occasion.”

  Appropriate for her baptism? She didn’t get the connection, but didn’t care either. She was with Nick and that was all that mattered right now . . . though she wondered if he had something on his mind. He seemed a lot quieter than usual.

  Someone else was sitting on their bench. “Doesn’t matter,” Kat said. “We can go sit on the rocks.”

  “But it does matter,” Nick muttered. To Kat’s surprise, Nick walked over to the fifty-something woman sitting on the park bench who was eating French fries from a greasy bag, leaned down, and spoke to her. To Kat’s greater surprise, the woman chuckled, got up, and walked away. Nick motioned to Kat to come sit down.

  “Now I’ve seen everything!” Kat laughed as she plopped down beside him. “What did you say to her?”

  “Only that I needed the bench . . . for this.” Nick reached for her hand . . . and the next thing she knew, he had slipped something onto her third finger.

  Kat stared and stopped breathing. A simple silver ring with a perfect little diamond standing up in the middle, flanked by two small red garnet stones, flashed in the sunlight.

  “Will you marry me, Kat Davies?” Nick whispered.

  Tears blurred the ring. A lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. But she gave a little gasp and threw her arms around him. With her arms still around him, Nick stood up and swung her around. Then he threw an arm in the air and yelled to no one in particular, “She said yes!”

  Kat buried her face in his chest with embarrassment. But she heard several passersby clapping and somebody yelled, “Way to go, man!”

  Then he pulled her back down onto the bench and pointed to the two red stones on either side of the diamond. “Those garnets—they’re the January birthstone. Your birthday’s in January—that’s one—and I was thinking maybe we could get married that month too, after I graduate—that’s two.” Though a moment later he looked stricken. “But I guess that’s really presumptuous.” He searched her eyes. “What do you think?”

  Kat felt the grin on her face get wider. “I think it’s written in stone.”

  It was almost midnight when Kat and Nick crept quietly up the stairs of the three-flat. At the door of the second-floor apartment, Nick pulled her close and kissed her, his mouth hungry,
urgent—and she pressed her body against his, drinking in the faint, woodsy smell of him, like damp moss in the forest, not wanting to let him go. They stood in the dark wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time.

  It was all she could do to finally step back and watch him go on up the stairs.

  Kat let herself in, closed the door quietly, and leaned her back against it, trying to still her rapidly beating heart. The apartment was quiet. Everyone was asleep. She fought an urge to pull the door open again and run up the stairs after him . . . No, no, she shouldn’t do anything foolish. Both Bree and Nick would be moving back to the CCU campus tomorrow, the Labor Day holiday, for classes that started on Tuesday. Probably a good thing . . . or it might be hard to wait clear till January.

  Her own new job as a second-grade teacher at Bethune Elementary would be starting Tuesday as well, and Conny would be starting first grade. She and Rochelle had three more weeks to find a new place to live before the Candys arrived back in town from Costa Rica—that was a bit of a panic, but, everyone kept reminding her, God had dropped this place in their lap when they needed a home for the summer, and He would provide for them again.

  Too excited to go to bed, Kat made herself some herbal tea and curled up on the couch in the velvet darkness of the living room, reliving the day.

  “Do you think your folks will come for the wedding?” Nick had asked, chowing down pizza earlier that evening in a local Giordano’s.

  Kat had shaken her head. “I don’t know. Maybe if you go home with me for Christmas or something, and they get to know you.”

  Nick had snorted. “If I don’t scare them away permanently. I get the feeling they might not like a pastor for a son-in-law.” Then he’d looked at her thoughtfully. “I truly hope they do come. But if they don’t, I bet Peter Douglass would do the honors and give you away.”

  Kat giggled. “Would that make Avis the mother of the bride?”

  He grinned. “I guess. I think I want to ask Josh Baxter to stand up with me. What about you?”