Love's Prayer (The First Street Church Romances Book 1)

by Melissa Storm

They all went through a quick round of introductions again and then snagged a table near the stage.

  "So you girls do this every week?" Summer asked as the bartender delivered a tray of lemon waters to the women.

  "Every single week since Jennifer here turned twenty-one. Wouldn't miss it for the world," Elise explained. She then threw a questioning glance Kristina Rose’s way.

  Kristina sighed and prodded at the lemon in her glass, using her straw. She tried to smile, but instead she let out a choked sob. Everyone, including Summer, rushed to give her hugs—to show their support before they even knew what they were supporting.

  "Would you rather I told them?" Elise asked as she rubbed her friend’s shoulder.

  "No," Kristina said. "I need to get used to talking about this. After all, I'll have to tell everyone at work and church and everywhere else. If I can't find a way to tell my closest friends, how will I explain it to strangers down the road? This is something that's going to change my entire life…"

  "Krissy, you're kind of starting to worry me here. Do you have… Oh, I can't even say it! Do you have…?" Maisie struggled to ask.

  Jennifer dropped her voice to a whisper, but everyone already knew the word before she could voice it aloud. "Kristina, are you trying to tell us that you have cancer?"

  Kristina shook her head. This time her smile was real as she tried to comfort her worried friends. "Not cancer. Just diabetes. The doctor said that I need to have gastric bypass surgery in order to get better, since I haven't been able to lose the weight on my own and the diabetes is pretty severe already. He's given me a couple months to prepare for the operation and to practice my new diet. But then I'm going to have to have the surgery, and I'm really scared about it. I've never been cut open before, not even for my appendix or tonsils or anything. And they're starting with my stomach? Talk about an organ I don't trust. How do I know I’ll make it through and wake up happier and healthier and skinnier when it’s all over?”

  “Oh, honey,” Maisie said. “You don’t know. None of us ever know. That’s part of life, but we’ll all be praying for you. Right, girls?”

  They all nodded enthusiastically, even Summer who didn’t typically pray but would if it helped her new friend.

  “I’ll get the youth group into a prayer circle for you,” Elise offered. “You know they all love you. We all love you. You’re going to be fine. Sometimes you just have to take that leap of faith and count on God to catch you. This could be the start of a whole new, wonderful life. You just have to get through this short scary part first, but we’ll all be here to help!”

  Everyone nodded again.

  “Thanks, guys.” Kristina dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that none of you ordered drinks. That’s really sweet, but you don’t have to hold back on my account.”

  “Yes we do,” Jennifer said. “We drink too much anyway. Let’s hear what we all sound like singing sober for a change.”

  “Uh-oh,” Maisie wailed. “Maybe count me out then. I don’t think anyone wants to hear that. What about you, Summer? Have you done karaoke before?”

  She thought back to the party she and her friends had thrown to celebrate their high school graduation, and she couldn't help but smile as she remembered performing a spirited rendition of It’s Raining Men with a group of her closest girlfriends. Had she grown up in Sweet Grove, she could easily imagine having these same women at her side for that performance and forming just as tight-knit a circle of friends.

  But not too many people stayed put after graduation where Summer came from. No, it wasn't like here. Her former classmates were scattered all across the country, which at least meant she would likely have a friend no matter where she chose to take a job and build her life. Then again, Summer never seemed to have any trouble making friends.

  "I've been known to grace a stage once or twice in my life,” Summer answered. “In fact, I think I'll kick things off for us tonight. Just promise you won't abandon me when you hear how terrible my singing voice is." She laughed at herself and used her palms to push herself up from the table, then strode confidently toward the stage.

  "Looks like we have our opening act," the emcee crowed. "And ladies and gentlemen of the Rusty Nail, we're in for a real treat. Because it's none other than Sweet Grove’s newest out-of-towner. Let's make her feel welcome, shall we? Give it up for…" He leaned toward Summer with an embarrassed smile and capped his hand over the mic as he spoke. "Uh, what's your name, sweetheart?"

  Summer grabbed a hold of the mic and brought it close to her lips. "Hi, everyone. I'm Summer Smith. Yes, Iris Smith’s niece. And as you already know, I'm new here. But that's not going to stop me from giving you all one heck of a show. DJ, put on Jesus Take the Wheel."

  As the opening notes began to play over the loudspeaker, Summer took a deep breath and held it in her stomach. Sure, it wasn't the most upbeat number, but this song meant something special to her. Though she hadn't been raised to believe in God, Jesus, or whomever, she rather liked the idea of someone bigger and stronger—and, okay, invisible—taking over and steering her life in the direction it needed to go. Lord knew she had enough trouble doing it herself. So as she sang the words she knew so well, she infused them with every bit of emotion and hope and meaning she could muster.

  When the song ended, her new friends shot to their feet in a round of raucous applause. "Bravo! Bravo!" sang Maisie.

  "You were wonderful," said Jennifer, patting Summer on the back as she returned to her seat.

  "That's one of my favorite songs too," Kristina Rose added.

  "Well, I wouldn't want to be the one to follow that," Elise said with a goofy grin. "But you know what? I will anyway."

  Everyone laughed and cheered as Elise rose to take the stage, and Summer found herself feeling more and more at home with these new friends, in this new place, and right here at the Rusty Nail.

  Unfortunately, not everyone had enjoyed Summer’s performance of the famous Carrie Underwood song. A middle-aged woman with shabby blond hair and deep bags under her eyes flew toward their table in a rage. "You were off key! You are off key the whole time!" she cried.

  Maisie was quick to come to her rescue. "Susan, calm down. It's fine. We all loved Summer's performance. Give it a rest."

  But the woman, who apparently was named Susan, was not easily deterred. "No! I refuse to let such a beautiful song be butchered by such a terrible voice. You have no right—"

  This time it was Elise who spoke up, shouting from her place on the small makeshift stage where she stood waiting for her song to start. "No, you have no right. You really shouldn’t be here, anyway. Do you need me to take you home?"

  Jennifer ran up to the stage and whispered something in Elise’s ear.

  “I don’t care,” Elise argued loud enough for the entire bar to hear. “I know all her excuses, but if we let every little thing slip, she’s never going to get any better.”

  Jennifer grabbed Elise’s wrist and tried to usher her out of the spotlight, her friend shook her off.

  “You may be used to outbursts like this, but I expect more. Did you even know I wanted to be a teacher because of you? You could be great like that again, healthy, sober,” Elise implored, tears brimming behind her large eyes. “Here, let me take you home.”

  "I don't need anything from you or anyone else," the drunken woman said. This time Summer realized how slurred the words came out. "Except you." She pointed one shaky finger toward Summer rather dramatically. "You need to apologize for what you did to that song."

  Maisie shot her feet, and Summer hoped she wasn't getting ready for a fight. That was the last thing she wanted on her first night out in town. If drama were to ensue, she would be so embarrassed she would hardly be able to handle herself for her remaining weeks. Things were already hard enough at the flower shop. She didn't want her social life to be spoiled as well.

  She raised a hand to cut off Maisie before she could take the confrontati
on any further. "It's okay, really. I know I'm not a great singer, and I love that song too. That's why I picked it. Tell you what, let me take you home and I’ll apologize on the way. Deal?"

  Susan blew a raspberry, upsetting the loose bangs on her forehead, then walked toward the exit, perhaps agreeing with the plan or perhaps already bored with them.

  "Are you sure about this, Summer? I'm happy to take her. You stay and have fun. The night’s only just getting started," Maisie insisted.

  "It's okay. I want to help. Her name is Susan, right? Do you know where she lives? Can you tell me how to get there?"

  "Yes, her name is Susan Davis, and she lives at Seventeen-oh-one May Lane. To get there, you just turn right out of—"

  "Actually," Summer said, "I know exactly how to get there." She grabbed up her keys and her purse and followed Ben's mother outside. Well, like it or not, this time he would have to say hello.

  Chapter 6

  Ben leaped the moment he heard a knock on the hollow front door. Relief flooded him when he saw his mother standing there, thankfully in one piece. But when he saw who was standing next to her, his heart thrummed wildly once again. Summer.

  "We ran into each other at the Rusty Nail, and I figured she could use a ride home.” Summer shook her head. “Hello, Ben. It's nice to see you again." She twisted her hands at her side suggesting maybe she too felt nervous in his company.

  "Come on in," Susan said as she shuffled past Ben and made her way to the kitchen.

  "Mom…?" Ben began, not knowing exactly what he wanted to ask.

  Susan reappeared at his side and nudged him out of the way to allow Summer to enter their home. "It's okay. She already apologized, so I invited her in for a nightcap."

  Summer shot him an awkward smile and shrugged, then followed his mother into the house. "Just water, thanks."

  Ben couldn't very well retreat in this situation, though this definitely wasn't how he'd imagined the next meeting might start with his dream girl. In fact, seeing her standing there so pure and beautiful next to the harsh nightmare of his everyday reality made him want to scream. He frowned as he glanced around the house and noted the clutter and the mess and the general disorder around them. Then there was his mother, who’d obviously been drinking—and out in public. And he didn't even want to know what she meant when she said Summer had apologized.

  "Mind if I join you?" He leaned against the kitchen doorframe, feeling like the worst pickup artist ever.

  His mother busily worked on finding a pair of clean glasses while Summer sat tapping her fingers on the old wooden table that had been a staple in their home decor since before Ben had even been born. When neither woman answered, he decided to take a seat himself. Fake it until you make it, right?

  His feelings for Summer were anything but fake, but his confidence…? Well, he couldn't just sit there ogling her, just as he couldn't leave her captive to the whims of his erratic mother.

  "How have you been? I mean, are things at the shop going better?" he asked.

  Summer nodded subtly as she watched Susan continue to search the kitchen cabinets. "Oh, as good as they could be, considering. I'll manage to survive one way or another." Her words seemed dismissive, yet she punctuated them with a kind, reassuring smile.

  After a few more moments, she raised her voice and craned her neck to look past Ben. "Susan, how is that glass of water coming? Do you need any help?"

  His mother sighed. "No clean glasses," she explained. "But I should have a few cold cans of beer in the garage fridge. I'll be right back."

  Now Summer was the one to sigh as Ben’s mother walked swiftly yet unsteadily toward the garage. Turning to Ben, she whispered, "I get the feeling this isn't a ‘sometimes thing’ with her."

  "Well, she doesn't usually leave the house, but yeah. I'm sorry you got mixed up in this mess."

  "Is this why…?” She bit her lip as if that would keep the unspoken words from escaping. “Never mind. Just tell me how I can help.”

  “It’s beyond help. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “No, I refuse to believe that anyone is a lost cause. Speaking of, umm…where is she?” Susan still hadn’t returned from her quick trip to the garage. That was when the TV in her bedroom flared up, bringing with it the sound of an old sitcom rerun. The laugh track jarred Ben’s nerves, but he tried not to show his irritation.

  “Well, that answers that question,” Summer said with a frown. “C’mon.” She stood up and pulled Ben to his feet as well, then immediately started rustling through the cabinets as his mother had done just moments before.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Looking for any hidden bottles of liquor or wine or whatever. She can’t get better if we don’t help her. We need to find them and throw them out.”

  Ben decided not to mention the fact that none of the booze was actually hidden, that in fact he regularly purchased fresh supplies for Susan and that they kept it in plain sight. “Let me get you a trash bag,” he said, reaching under the sink and pulling out a black, shiny bag.

  She didn’t hesitate to grab it from him and throw in a mostly empty bottle of Jack. “Thanks.”

  Ben went to get the bottles his mother kept tucked into the back of the couch cushions and brought them back to Summer, who dunked them in the bag with a triumphant expression.

  “I understand the urge to lose yourself in a bottle. Really, I do, but when it gets to this point of not even being able to help yourself, well... You need others to intervene on your behalf.” She sighed heavily. “Does she…?” Summer chewed on her lower lip for a moment before rephrasing her question. “Is she ever violent at all?”

  Ben shook his head vigorously. “No, no, nothing like that. She just likes to… to forget is all.”

  “Forget what?” The trash bag drooped toward the floor as Summer silently studied Ben. “Maybe I shouldn’t pry. I just want to help.”

  “It’s okay. If you haven’t heard about what happened with my brother already, it’s only a matter of time. Someone is bound to tell you eventually. Might as well be me.”

  Summer set the bag down on the floor and seated herself at the table once again. “What is it?”

  Ben sat down with her and stared at the floor as he spoke. He’d hate to see that light leave Summer’s eyes once she learned the awful truth about him and his family, but it was only a matter of time. “About five years ago,” he started, risking a quick glance up at her.

  She smiled reassuringly, so he continued. “My brother Stephen shot himself over on Main Street. In broad daylight, no less. He died instantly. Didn’t even feel much, if any, pain, the doctor said. But ever since then, my mom has felt nothing but pain. So she started drinking, lost her job. My dad left, and that left only me to take care of us both.”

  “Oh, Ben. I’m so sorry! I had no idea!” Her voice was kind, but Ben didn’t dare look up at her face yet. If he could just hang on to the easiness between them for a little longer, perhaps everything would be all right. She reached over and patted his back as if to comfort him for having such a sucky life.

  “How could you have?” he continued. “Anyway, I know I shouldn’t, but it’s easier just to buy her the booze than to have the same fight every single day, you know?”

  “That’s what my mom thought too,” Summer whispered. “But he hit her anyway. Hit her if she didn’t bring him something to drink. Hit her if she did. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough once I graduated. My Aunt Iris even offered to let me move in with her here, but I wanted to make my own way. That way, I could never get stuck the way my mom had with my stepdad.”

  Ben was quiet as Summer continued to speak, but he did at last raise his eyes to meet hers. She stared straight ahead, her gaze unfocused as she recounted the story from her past.

  “But funnily enough,” she continued with a small sarcastic laugh. “I’m stuck anyway. I’m not trapped by any one person. Just me, myself, and my inability to decide. That’s why I came to Sweet Gr
ove this summer. To help my aunt, yes, but also to force myself to finally decide what I want to do with my life. I’ve been here three days, and the only thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to be a florist.” She laughed again, then let out a long sigh.

  “I shouldn’t get so down on myself. I don’t want to make you feel bad. I just want you to know that I understand in a way. And I’m here if you ever want to talk or to just get away for an hour or two. Okay?”

  Ben nodded. “Okay.”

  So their lives weren’t so very different after all. Only Summer had found a way to get out of a bad situation, and Ben had just made his own worse. She still wore a smile on her face, while Ben silently contemplated wrapping a rope around his neck and taking that one last, little step toward death.

  But now he was here with this girl, who was both beautiful and kind, damaged yet hopeful. If she could find a way to survive, then maybe he could too.

  Summer shot a glowing smile his way and reached out to squeeze his hand before leaping up from her seat and grabbing up the trash bag. “Good, now let’s finish cleaning out this stuff.”

  By some miracle, things were quiet at Morning Glory’s that Friday afternoon. The rush from the out-of-town funeral had reached its natural end, and so far not a single customer had come to make any requests of Sweet Grove’s new florist.

  Sunny Sunshine was a different story altogether. Despite being her Aunt Iris’s best friend, her so-called feather baby, the brightly colored little bird didn’t seem to care much for Iris’s replacement. He screamed and shrieked and even made a noise that sounded a bit like a car alarm. It all gave Summer a wicked headache until she reluctantly draped her jacket over Sunny’s travel cage. Hopefully the bird would stay quiet for a few minutes—or at least long enough for the pain killers to do away with Summer’s aching head.

  Elise swept into the store, her commanding presence immediately filling the place. “So how’s business?”

  “Slow,” Summer said with a shrug. “Sorry I missed your performance last night. How was it?”