Texas Weddings (Books One and Two)

by Janice Thompson

  Ah. So, Jessica made all of this possible. Well, thank goodness for Jessica! “I’ll be glad to send her work home with you.”

  “Thank you—for everything.” She smiled at him warmly.

  Andrew fought to keep his composure. He wanted to know what made her tick, what gave her such tenacity. He wanted to take back everything he had ever thought about her being lazy. Laura Chapman had turned out to be one of the hardest workers he’d ever come across in his years as a teacher. Should he tell her, give her some sort of confirmation she would make it?

  Andrew watched as she sat at her desk, pulling open the textbook. He turned his gaze to the board, where he wrote questions from today’s lesson, then turned slightly to see if she had watched him. No, her head remained buried in the book. She seemed to be lost in her own world.

  She probably thinks I’m going to give another pop quiz. Well, not today. No, he would take it easy on his students for a change. For some reason, he felt like a new man, invigorated, alive. As the rest of the students entered and took their seats, he made a silent pact with himself to go easier on them today.

  “Welcome, everyone.” He turned to face the class. “I trust you all managed to get through the work sheet I gave you when we met last.”

  A slight rumble went up from the students, who reached for their papers.

  “Well, let’s forget all about that and take a look at something else.” They looked up at him, obviously startled.

  “You mean we don’t have to turn them in?” one of the boys asked.

  “Not this time.”

  A look of relief flooded several faces. Still others looked puzzled. “Are you feeling all right, Professor Dougherty?” one of the girls asked. “Maybe you’re sick or something.”

  “Nope. Never better.” He turned his attention to an enlightening discussion on the Industrial Revolution, trying to remain focused. The students chimed in, creating a lively discussion. From the front of the room he kept a watchful eye on Laura. What was she thinking? Had he said anything to offend her?

  No, she appeared to be smiling, enjoying the conversation as much as the others. She seemed different, somehow—more peaceful than before. The angry edge was gone, replaced with the closest thing to happiness he had observed in quite awhile.

  Andrew eventually dismissed the class, and waited to see if she would linger behind the group. Their eyes met for a brief moment. He turned his gaze to the papers on the desk, embarrassed that she had caught him looking at her. He looked back up again, disappointed to find she had slipped out of her seat and was headed toward the door.

  “Ms. Chapman?”

  “Yes?” She turned, looking at him.

  “I wonder. . .I wonder if you could stay after class for a few moments,” he said, feeling his hands begin to shake.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I, uh. . .” The other students disappeared down the hallway, leaving them alone.

  “I want to tell you how happy I am to see you. I’m glad you’re back.”

  She looked startled. “You are?”

  “Certainly. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He fought to continue. “I enjoy your company, Ms. Chapman.” Andrew searched her eyes for a response.

  Her face flushed as she whispered hoarsely, “Call me Laura.”

  “Laura.” His hands shook uncontrollably now. “I’m so sorry about the way everything turned out at lunch.”

  “Me too.”

  “I wanted to spend some time with you, to get to know you. I wanted to make up for the time I’ve spent poking fun at you or making assumptions.”

  “It’s all in the past. I hope you can forgive me for the day we met.”

  He smiled, remembering. “Done.” He paused slightly. “Do you still think I’m so tough?”

  “In a good way. Most of these kids need a little push. I know you’ve made me a better student.”

  “I have?”

  “If nothing else, you motivated me, made me want to be the best I could be. That’s what every good teacher strives to do, right?”

  “Right.” Andrew stared at her in disbelief. She’s so giving. “Look,” he said, feeling strength well up in him, “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you something.”

  She looked up, their gazes locking. “What is that?”

  “When this semester is behind us, I’d love to spend some time getting to know you better. Do you think that would be possible? Maybe just coffee and conversation? Something like that?”

  She remained silent for a moment, finally whispering, “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” Her cheeks flushed. “I, um. . .I have to go. Jess has been so good to cover for me, but I’m sure she’s ready for a break.” She smiled, then left the room in a hurry.

  Andrew turned toward the board, his heart in his throat.

  eighteen

  “Kent? Jessica? Are you guys ready?” Laura called out, trying to rush them. “We’re going to be late to church.” Something about the words reminded her of when they were children. Many a Sunday morning had been spent looking for missing shoes or socks or arguing over appropriate church attire. She and Greg had always managed to get them out the door and to church in time for Sunday school.

  Kent appeared at the top of the stairs, still in his pajama pants and T-shirt. He stretched, letting out a loud, rehearsed moan. “Mornin’.”

  “What are you doing, Kent? I told you to get ready nearly an hour ago.”

  “I fell back asleep,” he said with a yawn. “Just go on without me.”

  “Go to church without you? But—”

  “Aw, give me a break, Mom. I’ve had a tough week at school. I’m beat.”

  Laura felt the disappointment deeply. I wanted this to be a family affair. Well, at least Jessica will go with me.

  “Jess?” She called up the stairs. Her daughter appeared, dressed in a dark green suit.

  “You look great.”

  “Thanks.” Jessica smiled. “So do you.”

  “Did you say Nathan wanted to sit with us this morning?”

  “He’s meeting us there. He always rides with his parents, anyway.” She pulled the door shut behind them, and they headed out to the car. The air outside felt crisp and cold. Laura shivered, pulling her jacket tightly around herself. Doing so reminded her of the night at the football game when Andrew pulled his jacket over her shoulders to keep her warm. Thinking of him brought an unexpected smile. Was it possible she was beginning to have feelings for this man?

  “It’s almost Thanksgiving.” Jessica interrupted her thoughts as they climbed into the car. “Can you believe it? It seems like the semester just started.”

  “Seems more like an eternity to me, but I’m happy the holidays are coming. It means I’m one step closer to being done with my first semester.”

  “You’ve done a great job, Mom. I’m really proud of you.”

  Laura felt her heart swell. “I never thought I’d hear those words—not from you, anyway.”

  “Well, just like you’ve been saying—today’s a new day.”

  They drove to the church, chatting about everything from Christmas gifts to Thanksgiving dinner. It was a truly wonderful trip.

  ß

  Andrew changed the channels on the TV, frustrated. Church services. He certainly wasn’t interested in any of those. . .or was he? One, in particular, caught his eye. It was a room full of people, singing, worshiping. They seemed to be happy, in an odd sort of way.

  “What phonies. Like anyone could be that happy in church.”

  And yet, he couldn’t seem to change the channel. Something about those people held him captivated—something in their expression intrigued him. They didn’t look like they were faking anything. In fact, they looked perfectly natural, genuinely comfortable.

  “Comfortable in church. Now that’s something I’ve never felt.” It wasn’t like Andrew had never been to church. He had been raised in one. His strict mother had pulled him out of the arms of his agnostic
father every Sunday until Andrew turned about twelve or thirteen. That’s when he rebelled—started staying home with his dad for one-on-one conversations about the things that really interested him—explorers, navigators, maps, and so much more. That’s where the fun had been. He certainly never experienced any joy sitting in a pew.

  Joy. There seemed to be so little of it in his life. His passion for teaching brought him joy, but not the kind that really lasted. Those people on the television looked like they had something that superseded what he felt in front of the classroom. Their joy seemed to come from something inside, something he couldn’t quite understand. “I don’t get it,” he whispered, “but I’d sure like to figure it out.”

  He watched as the pastor brought the congregation to laughter with a joke about children. “No, I never went to a church like that.” He spoke to the empty room. “But maybe someday I will.”

  ß

  “Turn with me to Colossians, chapter three,” the pastor said. “Verses twelve through fourteen.”

  Laura turned through her worn Bible until she found the passage. She had always loved this one, but somehow, in the middle of things, she had simply forgotten about it.

  The pastor’s voice rang out against the silence. “‘Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.’”

  Kindness? Patience? Laura had shown little of these traits over the last several months, in spite of her good intentions.

  “‘Bear with each other,’” the pastor continued, “‘and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.’”

  She had forgiven everyone, hadn’t she? After all, she’d excused Jessica for giving her the cold shoulder. She’d pardoned Kent for complicating their already complicated lives with his shenanigans. She had forgiven Greg. . . Wait a minute! Greg hadn’t done anything wrong. Why should she have to forgive him? Could she possibly be holding him in unforgiveness—after all this time?

  The pastor continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil: “‘And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.’”

  Love. She and Greg had been in love—the kind that surpassed romance. The kind that could have lasted forever—at least that’s what she always thought. Gentle tears began to course down Laura’s cheeks. She reached for a tissue but found none. Jessica quickly handed her one, then reached out to touch her arm.

  “It’s all right, Mom,” she whispered, eyes glistening.

  The pastor went on to talk about the steps to mend broken relationships. Laura took notes, scribbling down as many words as she could on the back of an offering envelope. Jess handed her the church bulletin, pointing to a blank spot on the back. “There you go, Mom,” she whispered.

  Laura reached to pat her hand, a gesture of thanks. She paused from her note-taking, content to sit with her hand wrapped around her daughter’s. She could go on sitting like this forever.

  The service ended some time later, but Laura couldn’t seem to pull herself from the sanctuary. Even after most of the others left, she remained. She slowly made her way up to the front, a place she had often visited as a child. Funny how the altar still cried out to her. Jess had disappeared to the foyer with Nathan, so Laura took advantage of the situation by kneeling for a few moments alone.

  “Lord, I’m here,” she whispered. “I made it. And I’m back to stay this time. I’m not going anywhere.” She felt the presence of God overwhelm her. “How did I stay away so long?” She spent a few more minutes opening up her heart to her Father. How wonderful it felt to be back in this place, the very place Greg had loved so much.

  “Greg.” No sooner did she speak his name than she realized what she must do. “I have to forgive him, Lord. Help me.”

  Her daughter appeared behind her. “Mom, is there anything I can do?”

  “No, Jess.” She looked up with a smile, dabbing at her eyes.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “No need to worry. This is a good thing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Laura nodded. “Yes, but I’m not sure I can explain what I’m feeling right now.”

  “Could you try?” Jessica knelt down beside her.

  Laura took her hand and clutched it tightly. “When your father died. . .” That was all she got out before the tears came again.

  “Tell me, Mom.”

  Laura took a deep breath. “When your father died, I blamed God. I didn’t realize it until months later. I was so angry with Him that I never wanted to come back into a church again. In fact, I even told Him that.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, but it was wrong of me. I knew that, after awhile. That day—when you came up to the store—I realized then that I was also angry at you kids.”

  “At us? Why? What did we do?”

  “It wasn’t anything you did, exactly. The situation I found myself in had reached a crisis point. Don’t you see? I’ve been completely responsible for the two of you with no one to help me. Since I had locked God out, I sure couldn’t look to Him for help. That left me on my own. But that day you came up to the store, God began to show me this.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. He showed me that unforgiveness is like a prison. It holds us in its grip until we can’t breathe. Eventually we become so bitter, we’re no fun to be around. I don’t want to be like that!” At that, Laura began to cry unashamed. “Can you ever forgive me, Jess? I’m so sorry about everything!”

  “Mom, of course I do, and I know Kent will too. But you have to forgive us, too. We haven’t exactly made things easier.”

  They embraced for what seemed like an eternity.

  “There’s something else,” Laura said finally. “And this is the worst part. I didn’t realize it until just this morning. I really didn’t.”

  “What, Mom?”

  “I’ve been angry with your father.” She spoke through the tears. “I’ve been so angry with him, I couldn’t think straight. He left me. He abandoned me.”

  Jessica held her tightly. “I do understand, Mom. More than you know. I’ve been mad at Daddy too. I’ve been so mad, sometimes I fight with him in my dreams.”

  “You what?”

  “I dream about him,” Jessica explained, “and we always end up fighting. I argue and argue but never seem to win. He always wins. But then I wake up and realize what’s happened—that it’s just a dream—and try to put it out of my mind. But the dreams don’t go away.”

  “Jess, I never knew.”

  “I know,” she said sadly. “I never told you. I just wake up in a bad mood and take it out on you and Kent. I have a feeling things are going to be better after today, don’t you?”

  “It felt really good to go back to church,” Laura said, smiling through the tears. “I mean, it was hard—seeing all of those women sitting there with their husbands beside them, but it still felt wonderful.”

  “I thought so too. I missed having Daddy next to me, trying to sing bass.”

  “He had a terrible voice,” Laura said with a smile. “Do you remember?”

  Jess laughed. “How could I forget?”

  He hadn’t been the best singer in the world, but he had certainly made up for it by being the best husband.

  “Jess, would you pray with me before we leave?”

  “Here?” Her daughter looked around. “Out loud?”

  Laura nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

  Jessica began to pray aloud, hesitantly at first, then gaining strength as she went. Her prayer was passionate, heartfelt. As she continued on, Laura’s heart swelled with joy inside her. She had truly come home.

  ß

  Andrew paced back and forth across his tiny living room, the words from the television still on his mind. Something the TV pastor had said intrigued him. He couldn’t seem to shake it: “‘Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. . . ,’” or something li
ke that.

  “Transforming your mind.” He repeated the words. Andrew understood the concept of strengthening his mind by gaining knowledge, of bettering himself. That’s why he had spent so many years in college, and why he felt driven to teach.

  But this idea of transforming his mind. . . Now that was certainly something new, something to think about.

  “Does he mean I should gain more knowledge?” he asked, pacing across the room. “Or is there something more?”

  He headed to the computer, rapidly signing on-line. “Surely there’s got to be some sort of online Bible I can read,” he spoke aloud. “I’ll get this figured out.”

  Before he knew it, three hours had passed. Bleary-eyed, Andrew reached to shut the computer down, his mind reeling. If the Scriptures he’d read were true, bettering his mind didn’t have anything to do with education.

  It had everything to do with inspiration.

  ß

  “I’m sorry. . .what did you say?” Laura felt sure she had heard the voice on the other end of the phone correctly, but she didn’t want to believe it.

  “This is Officer Meyer with the Harris County Sheriff’s Department. Your son was in an accident on Interstate 45 about half an hour ago and has been taken to Northwest Hospital.”

  Please, God, no! “I’m on my way,” Laura spoke, suddenly feeling faint. She hung the phone up, trembling as she called, “Jess!”

  Her daughter appeared quickly, a look of fear crossing her face when she saw her mother. “What is it?”

  “It’s Kent.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s been in an accident.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t say.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Northwest Hospital on 1960. Can you drive?”

  Jessica nodded, taking the keys from her hand. “Of course. You just get whatever you think you’ll need. Do you have his insurance card?”

  Laura nodded lamely, letting her daughter take charge. If nothing else, it felt good to have someone else in control—at least for the moment.

  Laura felt numb as they made their way outside.