Abide With Me (The Barn Church Series Book 3)

Home > Christian > Abide With Me (The Barn Church Series Book 3) > Page 5
Abide With Me (The Barn Church Series Book 3) Page 5

by Shellie Arnold


  Daniel walked to the platform. “I’d planned to continue teaching from Genesis, but this morning God gave me new instructions. You might recognize today’s passage as the parable about the prodigal son.”

  Her ears perked. A vague memory surfaced of sitting beside her sister in a small Sunday school class as someone told this same story. Hadn’t her parents fought bitterly the night before? Obviously about one of her father’s many affairs, although she hadn’t understood that at the time.

  The next morning, her mother had taken her daughters to a nearby church, only to return home and pour herself a glass of vodka.

  “Maybe faith works for other people. It doesn’t work for me,” she’d said. “But, after a bottle of this? Nothing bothers me. Not your father’s anger or his extramarital activities.”

  “Deacon, Naomi,” Daniel said. “I’ll visit your boy this week. I’ve forgiven him for stealing from the church, but he won’t know if I don’t tell him. He’ll hear it from me; I promise you. We fail miserably when we don’t run to meet those taking the tiniest step toward God. God loves your boy, and I’m going to tell him that, too. Too many times the church portrays God as a tyrant. Nothing could be farther from the truth.”

  Angelina’s breath caught as she remembered her prayer from yesterday. Dear God, are You real?

  Was this God answering? Directing Daniel to speak from the only Bible passage she knew, and use the word tyrant, what she’d yesterday thought of her own father?

  Now Daniel flipped pages. “Turn your Bibles to Luke 15:11-32 …”

  She listened as Daniel explained God’s grace and forgiveness, and what he called the “typical salvation message.”

  “The redemption part of this story is important,” Daniel continued. “God forgives the rebel who returns and repents. Most of us here are more like the older son. He stayed and worked with his father every day, but wasn’t close enough to realize everything the father possessed was his, too. The older son already owned the land. He could have killed a calf and feasted with his friends at any time. The older son was there all along, but his life was much like the prodigal’s—even though his father’s love was always there, he didn’t enjoy it. Basically, folks, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

  “We’re all thirsty for love. Some of that thirst can be met by loved ones, a spouse, or a friend. But the biggest part can only be quenched by a close and growing relationship with God—the kind neither of these boys had. Have you walked away from God? Have you never known God? Have you been standing at the trough but remain unsatisfied? God stands before you with open arms.”

  Angelina looked out a nearby wavy-glassed window. She couldn’t believe this picture of God. She’d always imagined Him as being a tougher judge than her own father. The God Daniel now described had pity on those who didn’t know Him. He shared all He possessed and welcomed a prodigal like Kay and the women had yesterday—with hugs and kisses and a feast. This God practically threw a party when someone ran to Him.

  Laughter erupted in the crowd. Deacon Floyd gave a loud Ha-ha!

  “What did Daniel say?” she asked Nick.

  “The worst joke about three angels walking into a bar.”

  “When you’re done laughing, turn your hymnal to page nine,” Daniel said.

  People took books from the backs of the pews. Nicholas quickly did the same, slipping the Bible in the shallow rack. Around her, voices rose.

  “O Lord my God,

  When I in awesome wonder,

  Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made.”

  She’d heard the words before, although she wasn’t sure where or when. For some reason, she thought of Elvis.

  “And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;

  Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;

  That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,

  He bled and died to take away my sin.”

  Son. They were singing about Jesus, God’s Son whom Daniel said died for her.

  The song ended.

  “You’re dismissed,” Daniel said. “I’ll wait here in case anyone wants to pray and run into God’s arms.”

  As had happened last night when she’d felt an urgency to continue talking with Kay about God, her heart pounded. She reached for Nick’s hand and noticed his knees bobbing.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Your hand is sweating.”

  “I know. What are we supposed to do?”

  They stared at each other, then she looked toward Daniel. “I think I want to go up there.”

  “Me, too. I’ve never felt like this,” Nicholas said.

  Much of the congregation had left.

  “I want to go pray with Daniel,” Nick said.

  “Me, too.”

  They walked down the aisle.

  “Daniel,” she whispered. “This is us running into God’s arms.”

  He led them in prayer.

  I think You’re real. I even think You love me.

  Joy sprang up, the likes of which she’d never experienced, and filled her heart. She felt clean and fresh as a breeze after a hard rain. And held. Held by an unexpected presence.

  She was no longer alone.

  The prayer ended. Nicholas hugged her and spun her around.

  “Angie. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever had.”

  “Me, too.”

  ***

  Nick tossed the thrift store duffle into the back seat. “Is that the last of it?”

  “I think,” Angie said. “We should probably check one more time.”

  They walked back into the house they’d shared with Angie’s sister, and he knew coming now to get their belongings had been the right decision. Once he started his new job at Benson’s on Monday, traveling back anytime soon wouldn’t be a possibility. They might have to put their meager possessions in storage, but having his old computer on hand was better than no computer. Who knew? Maybe his resume and letters of recommendation from professors would soon be put to good use.

  Angelina took his hand. “Feels like we’ve been gone longer than a week.”

  “I know.”

  Seven days since they’d met Daniel and Kay. Five days since committing their lives and marriage to God. For the first time, Nicholas felt he had a roadmap for his life, and a Father leading the way. Not just the Bible. No, Daniel had given Nick and Angelina his best marriage advice: Everything you need to know about marriage you can learn from your relationship with God. That’s your example of how to love each other.

  “I can’t believe you’re moving to podunk Alabama.” Phoebe leaned against the kitchen doorway. “I’ll have to find another roommate to help pay rent.”

  Nick was determined not to lose his temper with his sister-in-law. But he did have to unclench his fists.

  “Phoebe, we appreciate you letting us share the place.” Nick ignored her attitude-filled eye roll. “This is a fresh start for me and your sister. Maybe you could try being happy for her?”

  She didn’t look at him. “Angie!” she called down the hall. “What am I supposed to tell Dad when he asks where you are?”

  Angelina stuck her head out of the bedroom. “Right. Like he cares about where I am or what I do.”

  Phoebe smiled like a true predator. “He’s getting up there. When he dies, there will be money for us.”

  “You think I want his money?”

  “I know you two don’t have any.”

  “We will,” Nick said. “I’ve got a job waiting on me when we get back to Alabama. I start next Monday.”

  Benson’s wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing, and he’d simply scour the internet for more potential job opportunities.

  “Then I guess you got the message,” Phoebe said.

  “What message?” Nick asked.

  “From some place in Birmingham. Jansens? Jamesons?”

  “Do you mean Jenkinsons?” Nick asked.

  “That’s it.”
Phoebe yawned.

  “Phoebe!” Angelina hurried from the bedroom. “Why didn’t you tell us when we got here?”

  “You woke me up, okay? Today’s my day off, so I had a late and somewhat intoxicating night. I’m not your husband’s message service.”

  Nick’s chest filled with hope. Jenkinsons was the Birmingham company buying Warren Engineering down in Troy. That buyout was why Warren hadn’t hired him. But he’d never spoken with anyone from Jenkinsons. He had no contacts there.

  “Did you write down the number?” he asked.

  His sister-in-law looked at him like he’d spoken in a foreign language.

  “Phoebe, do you have the number or the name of the person who called for me?”

  “Probably.” His sister-in-law turned to the counter covered with mail and dirty dishes. “Well, don’t just stand there. Help me look for it. I think I wrote it on something.”

  “Angie, let’s handle the table,” Nick said. “One piece of paper at a time.”

  “Good idea.”

  His heart pounded so hard his hands shook. Finding one particular slip of paper in this pile of trash could be next to impossible.

  Focus. Think!

  “What day did they call?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday. Not yesterday.”

  An entire week. Would they hire someone else since he hadn’t called back immediately?

  “Have you taken out the garbage since then?” he asked.

  “Does it look like I’ve worried about taking out the garbage?”

  “Well, that’s something in our favor.”

  “Nicholas.” Angie touched his arm. “I think I found it.”

  One end of the envelope was stained and sticky and smelled like Chinese food. Scrawled on the other end was an out of state number, the words “James and sons,” and the name Gerald Barker. Barker had interviewed Nick last Friday and given him the check they’d cashed earlier this afternoon before closing their local bank account.

  He looked at his wife. Throughout their entire journey from Rowe City to St. Augustine, she’d read to him from the Bible Daniel and Kay had given them, starting in the book of John as Daniel had suggested. The experience had forged a new bond between them.

  He wanted to keep that synchronicity.

  “Angie, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait until Monday to call. Do you?”

  “No, and I really like that you’re asking me. Thanks for that.”

  “Everything inside me is new. I won’t step all over your feelings again. I promise.”

  “You two are a little too sweet for my taste.” Phoebe hugged Angelina and offered a half-wave to Nick. “Let me know where you are, sis. I’m going back to bed.”

  He checked his watch, then waited until he heard Phoebe’s bedroom door close.

  “Birmingham’s an hour behind us,” Nick said. “If he didn’t leave work early—you know, because it’s Friday—he might still be there.”

  “Or maybe a secretary,” Angie said.

  He picked up the phone. “My hands are shaking. Can you believe it? God’s directing our steps, Angie, just like Daniel and Kay said. I think our whole lives are about to change.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  First anniversary, Birmingham, Alabama

  Across the Birmingham skyline, streetlights and building lights blinked on, cutting through the purple and orange haze of sunset. Angelina knew in a few minutes, from up here the entire city would appear to be covered in glistening jewels—perfect for Nick’s homecoming from his first trip abroad for Jenkinsons to Barcelona, Spain.

  Spain.

  She would’ve gone with him if she wasn’t deep into a school term. Spain had fabulous architecture. Wonderful museums. And was less than seven hundred miles from Paris. She and Nick could have stayed a few extra days and actually gone to France.

  “Next time, I’ll take you with me,” Nicholas had promised.

  So far tonight, she’d stained two shirts. Almost every dish in their fourteenth-floor apartment lay strewn across the kitchen counter, dirty. Except for the one Angelina had broken, which she’d swept up and dumped into the garbage.

  She’d showered before she created the lasagna—clearly a mistake. She was sweaty and greasy and had sauce caked under and around her newly manicured nails, one of which she’d chipped.

  How did a woman cook without making a terrible mess? Without sweating like a weightlifter at the gym?

  She slid the glass dish of lasagna into the oven.

  Which she’d forgotten to preheat. But was that really important?

  Cooking time was a ballpark suggestion, right? If the oven wasn’t hot enough when you put the food in, you could simply turn up the temperature a bit, leave the pan in a little longer, and you’d be back on schedule.

  So she set the timer, adding thirty minutes to offset the temperature difference.

  She loaded the dishwasher. Washed by hand the last dishes she couldn’t fit in. She surveyed the table with its linen cloth, crystal goblets, and silver cutlery. The china Nicholas had bought her for Christmas— she’d rather have gone to visit Daniel and Kay, but the dishes were exquisite. All was in place, and if she hurried, she had just enough time to change and freshen her makeup before Nicholas arrived.

  She entered their large bedroom. Placed candles on the nightstands, the dresser, the floating shelves on the wall opposite the bed. She lit all twenty, knowing their scent would permeate the air and create a romantic, ethereal atmosphere for their first night together in weeks.

  Turning her attention to the embossed lingerie box on the bed, she opened the tissue paper and carefully removed the black lace corset, matching garter, and thigh-high hose. She donned them, snipped the tags on a new siren-red dress, and slipped it on. Added heels, so she and Nicholas would be eye to eye. She could hardly wait to see his expression tonight when he peeled this dress off her.

  She checked her foundation, blush, and lipstick in the mirror over the bathroom sink. No matter what he picked to do tomorrow—visit the zoo, the botanical gardens, or even the science center—tonight, she’d rock his world and make him thankful to be home.

  Angelina walked back to the living room. She sat on their new plush sofa and flipped channels.

  The ear-ripping scream of the smoke alarm startled her.

  “The lasagna!”

  She rushed to open the oven and thought she’d seared her eyebrows. Coughing, she lifted out the baking dish, sat it on the stove top. The cheese was charred, the noodles still hard.

  Why hadn’t the digital timer dinged? She looked closely at it and realized she’d set it for A.M. rather than P.M.

  What else had she done wrong? She checked the directions on the side of the noodle box. Cooking instructions: Boil noodles for …

  She should have boiled the noodles before layering? When making lasagna, you cooked the noodles twice?

  On the stove, smoke still rose from the dish. She laid it in the sink, turned on the water, and heard a loud crack as the glass broke. From the abrupt temperature change, of course.

  None of it mattered. She wouldn’t let it.

  She dialed Nick’s cell, checking the time. His plane would have landed about ten minutes ago, so he was probably near baggage claim.

  She went to voice mail.

  “Hey. I kind of ruined dinner. Big surprise, huh?” She laughed. “Could you pick up some burgers on your way? Can’t wait to see you. I love you so much, Nick. Hurry home.”

  After cleaning the kitchen again and carefully bagging the catastrophic lasagna, Angelina re-settled in front of the television. She slipped off her shoes.

  At 1 A.M. she woke in the near dark, disoriented.

  “Nicholas?”

  Surely he would have woken her after he arrived home. Although this wouldn’t be the first time he’d let her sleep where she lay.

  She rose and walked to their bedroom. Checked the bathroom and walked back through the apartment. She saw
no sign of his luggage, no evidence he’d come home at all. Had his flight been delayed?

  She checked the airline website. His flight had landed on time. He should have been home hours ago. She should drive to the airport. If he were stranded on the side of the road, she’d see him.

  But if that were the case, he’d call for roadside assistance. From his phone. Which he wasn’t answering.

  Gut-deep fear knotted up in her stomach. What if he’d been robbed in the parking garage? Or car-jacked there? What if he’d been in an accident and was now lying in a hospital unable to reach her? Unconscious and injured?

  “Calm down,” she told herself. “There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. Don’t overreact, just find out what happened.”

  She changed clothes, folded the lingerie, placing it and its box in the closet. She called airport security. No robbery, assault, or stranded vehicle had been reported.

  She called the area hospitals. No patient named Nicholas Rousseau could be found in the Emergency Room. No one with that name had been admitted.

  Where could he be? If he were able, he’d call, right?

  He’d know she’d be worried and wondering where he was.

  She called the police and sheriff’s offices, on the chance he’d been speeding and been arrested. Out of character, she knew, but she was desperate for ideas.

  The fear stretched and twisted, reaching up her spine.

  She scrolled through the contacts in her phone. Daniel and Kay would be asleep this time of the night, but she had to talk to someone, and her classmates at the institute were all single. They wouldn’t understand.

  She dialed. One ring. Two, three, four.

  “Hello,” Kay said. “This is the Crane residence.”

  Angelina fidgeted with the chains at her neck. “I’m so sorry to wake you. It’s Angelina.”

  “Angie? Are you all right? Are you here?”

  “I’m fine. And, no, I’m not there. I’m at home in Birmingham.”

  She felt silly and stupid and embarrassed.

  “I shouldn’t have called,” Angie said. “This was inconsiderate. I’m sorry.”

  “What’s wrong? I know you wouldn’t call for no reason. Do I need to wake Daniel?”

 

‹ Prev