“Hey there Pastor, remember me, Richard Dickens, chairman of the deacons?”
They shook hands and Gil felt bad for not recognizing this all-important man in the church. “Hello, Brother Dickens, I’m glad to see you.”
The other man smiled and said, “I’ll just bet you are. Oh by the way, you can just call me Richard. Everybody else here at the church does. Just about everybody else in town does too. We sure don’t get too formal around here.”
Gil nodded but chose not to comment as he mentally compared his casual polo shirt and Dockers with Richard’s overalls with a t-shirt underneath.
“You going to back that truck up there to the parsonage, or would you like for me to do it?”
Gil felt as if he’d suddenly been set free of some kind of bondage. “If you could, I sure would appreciate it. I’ve never backed one of those things up before.”
“Sure thing Pastor. The keys in it?” When Gil nodded, Richard jumped into the cab and cranked the motor. He quickly backed it out into the middle of the parking lot and swung around then begin backing it up the long narrow drive to the parsonage.
Gil followed along on foot and marveled at how easily Richard whipped the truck all the way up to the garage in no time at all. Well, that was great. Wasn’t it?
As soon as Richard stopped the truck, he jumped out and went to the front door of the parsonage. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, opened the door then disappeared inside, and a few seconds later, the garage door opened.
Gil was somewhat winded when he finally made it up the hill to where the truck was backed up to the garage. He hadn’t realized how out of shape he was and made a mental note to start back on his exercise program as soon as possible. He’d spent the past year trying to find a church and had neglected his exercise routine.
When Gil stopped at the side of the truck, Richard came out of the garage and stood in front of him.
“Well, Pastor, I don’t want to be hurting your feelings none, but you look like you’re about to drop in your tracks. Why don’t you get a load off?”
When Gil started to protest, Richard held up a hand and said, “Don’t you worry a bit now, I got three other men from the church on their way over here, and we’ll have this little truck unloaded in no time at all.”
Gil felt somewhat embarrassed carrying small boxes while the other four men unloaded all his big or heavy things. He had tried several times to help them but had been relegated to the small things each time. They’d argued that most pieces required two sets of hands to carry, and he was the odd man out. But he still felt bad though.
He didn’t have much, just a living room set, dining room set, and one bedroom set, complete with a king size bed. The other three bedrooms would just have to sit empty for now. Other than that, he had books, lots of books. Ten years of college and seminary had more than doubled an otherwise large collection of books.
He was glad that the study, which was just off the foyer at the front of the house was already furnished with a desk, desk chair, two visitor chairs, and most importantly of all, three walls of empty bookshelves.
When all the furniture and boxes were unloaded, Richard came up to Gil where he was unpacking books in the study.
“Well, Pastor, looks like everything’s all done here.” He paused while he took his cap off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “If you’d like, I can take that truck down to Butch’s place on the other side of town. All you’ll have to do is stop in there anytime soon and settle up with him.”
“That would be great Richard. I really appreciate all you and the others have done for me today.”
“Aw it wasn’t nothing. We always help the new pastor move in. It’s just the way we do things around here. We do try to take good care of our pastor, you’ll see.”
He started to leave but stopped, turned back, and said, “Bert Smith, who’s our janitor at the church will be coming over here once a week to clean the house and scrub the toilets.”
He paused with a smile on his face, “That is if it’s okay with you.”
Gil had to smile. He was beginning to think he was going to like the way they took care of their pastor here. “That’s fine Richard, and thanks again.”
With that, Richard jumped in the truck and drove it back down the hill and out of the parking lot. The other three men had already left.
Gil sat in his new desk chair, behind his new desk, in his new study and thought back over the last two hours. What in the world was he doing here? This town and these people were so much different from what he was used to that he almost felt like he was in a foreign country. Then there were the “Go Home Turner” signs he’d seen.
Suddenly homesickness almost overwhelmed him.
* * *
Jo was so tired at five o’clock, that she could barely climb the stairs at the rear of the bar to the upstairs apartment she shared with her little sister. She needed to talk to Carla about her actions today, but wasn’t sure when would be a good time. She never seemed to know anymore. But when she stopped to think about it, she realized that Carla was just being a teenager, that was all.
She had grilled some hamburgers for their supper and when she passed through their kitchen, she placed it on the table and went to get Carla. She was in her room on her bed with earbuds in her ears listening to her music, as usual.
Jo knew the only way to get Carla’s attention was to stand in front of her until the girl opened her eyes and saw her.
It took a minute, but it worked.
Carla took the buds out of her ears and looked up at Jo. “Is it suppertime?”
Jo nodded and said, “Let’s go eat while it’s still hot.”
Neither one said much while they ate, and Jo was glad since it gave her time to relax and cool down before she tried to talk to Carla. Why was she so uptight?
When they had finished working together to clear the table, rinse the dishes, and load the dishwasher, Carla started to leave the room, but Jo stopped her.
“Carla Sue, could you sit with me in the living room for just a minute? I need to talk to you.”
Jo could see the emotions flash across Carla’s face. Everything from anger to resentment to boredom showed on her sister’s rather expressive face. She stood there staring down at Jo for so long that she was afraid Carla might refuse.
Then, finally, Carla shrugged her shoulders and said what Jo knew all teenagers say but it still irritated her.
“Whatever!”
Once they were settled at opposite sides of the living room, Jo felt that she could finally talk. It would not have been easy for her, the big sister, to try to discipline her little sister when said “little” sister looked down at her from five inches above.
Carla looked at her expectantly, almost defiantly and Jo knew she had to tread carefully. She gathered her thoughts and began.
“Carla Sue . . .”
“Are you trying to be like Mom by calling me Carla Sue when you’re mad at me?”
Carla’s interruption threw Jo off and caused her to forget the line of reasoning she’d planned. “No, at least if I was, I didn’t realize that was what I was doing.”
Carla smiled at her minor victory and Jo realized that Carla knew she had flustered her big sister.
“Okay, Carla . . . let’s start again.”
When Carla only glared at her, Jo knew she had to back up and try a different approach. “Carla, you and I only have each other now. Sure, I know we have aunts, uncles, and cousins all over the county, but that’s different. We’re sisters and that means a lot to me, and I hope it does to you too.”
She paused to let that sink in. When Carla’s face still showed no emotion, she continued, “I love you and I want you to be happy more than anything else in my life right now.”
With that said, Jo leaned back in her chair and watched Carla. At last, there was a little bit of emotion playing on her face. That should be a good sign.
“The more I’ve thought about it since this
morning, the more I’m sure that what you and your friends did with our sign and then the signs down at the church was wrong.”
That certainly produced a reaction from Carla. She leaned forward in her seat and said, “But, you didn’t tell us we couldn’t and you didn’t try to stop us.”
Jo frowned. “No I didn’t. You’re right. I was just as wrong as you girls if not more so because I should have known better and I should have stopped you.”
Carla’s voice was dripping with sarcasm when she said, “Is this where you remind me that you’re the adult here and I’m the child? You may be fourteen years older than me, but you’re still not my mother.”
Jo felt like Carla had slapped her. “No, I’m not your mother, but I am your legal guardian and I’m trying my best to do exactly what Mom and Dad would have done if they were still here.”
She couldn’t help it when she burst into tears. She tried to fight it, but she’d had such a terrible day and she suddenly felt so overwhelmed. She looked over at Carla and saw that big tears were streaming down her cheeks too.
Jo stood and slowly walked over to Carla. When Carla finally looked up at her, Jo held out her arms and Carla leaped into them.
All wasn’t well between them yet, but it was much better than it had been a little while ago.
Later, after Jo hung up the phone from talking or rather listening to Sue Ann for over an hour, she wasn’t sure whether she felt better or not.
Sue Ann had talked mostly about what others around town were saying about the new Baptist preacher. He sure was getting quite a reputation already and it was only Thursday. Wait until Sunday came around then people really would have things to say about him.
She was starting to get sleepy and was about to head for her bedroom when she noticed Carla standing in her bedroom doorway.
Jo knew when her sister wanted to talk and she also knew that if she said anything before Carla was ready, the conversation would be over before it started. So she waited.
“Jo . . . I miss Mom and Dad.”
That was when Jo saw tears in Carla’s eyes that began to roll down her cheeks.
Jo stood and Carla walked into her embrace. They just stood there holding each other for a few minutes. Carla pulled away first and almost fell down onto the couch and Jo quickly sat next to her without saying a word.
When Carla did speak, Jo was shocked.
“Why haven’t you gotten married yet, Jo? You’re thirty years old after all.”
Jo couldn’t think of anything to say so she just said the first thing that came to mind. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Then when she realized how serious Carla was, she gentled her tone and said, “I guess I just haven’t met the right guy yet?”
Carla pulled a tissue from a box on the table in front of the couch and wiped her eyes. “Are you sure it isn’t because of me?”
“No, of course not! Where did you get that idea from sweetie?” Jo tried to think if she’d ever said or done anything that would have given Carla that impression. She was sure she hadn’t.
“I don’t want to cause you problems. You didn’t plan to get stuck with me.”
Jo shook her head. “Oh, Carla, I don’t feel that way at all. I don’t feel like I’m stuck with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’re together where we belong and that’s where we’re going to stay.”
Teary eyes turned toward her and she could see that Carla wasn’t finished yet.
“But if you did get married, what would happen to me?”
“Oh, Carla, no man will ever come between you and me. If I did get married, he would have to accept you just the same as if you were my daughter.”
As Jo pulled her little sister into another hug, she thought she now knew where this conversation had come from.
They sat next to each other that way for another few minutes before Carla went to bed.
Jo sat there for a long time, thinking. Marriage! She hadn’t thought about it. She wasn’t too sure she wanted to try it. Three of her friends she’d grown up with had been married and were already divorced. That included her best friend Sue Ann who was now stuck raising her six-year old son alone.
Well, she thought, as she headed to her room to get ready for bed, she certainly wasn’t in any hurry to get married . . . if she ever did.
Chapter Two
The next morning at seven o’clock, Gil was dressed and sitting at the kitchen table trying to decide if he wanted to make the effort to go out and find something for breakfast. He had no food of any kind in the house yet.
He had just about decided to skip breakfast and go on over to the church office when he heard a soft almost timid knock on the back door.
When he opened the door, there stood a young boy who was so thin that Gil had the stray thought that if he turned sideways you wouldn’t be able see him. He looked closer and tried to see past the lopsided grin on the boy’s face and realized he must be in his late teens.
“Hey Mr. Preacher, I’m Bert.” He held up a cloth-covered basket. “And Miz Daisy sent you breakfast.”
It took Gil a moment to remember that Richard had said that someone by the name of Bert Smith was the church custodian.
“Come in Bert. You must be the church custodian?”
Bert slouched into the kitchen behind Gil. When he turned and motioned for Bert to take a seat at the table, the young man gave him a puzzled look.
“The cuss what?”
Gil had to think back to what Bert was referring to. Then after a look into Bert’s eyes, it all became clear to him. He was certain that Bert was a little slow or whatever the politically correct term was lately. He would have to remember to ask someone to be sure.
“The janitor. Are you the church janitor, Bert?”
“Yep, that’s me Mr. Preacher. And I’ll be cleaning this place for you too.” He frowned. “Didn’t get to with the last preacher though. He had a wife.” He said the last as if it were an unpleasant afterthought then looked around. “It ain’t dirty yet though.”
Gil didn’t know what to say next so he lifted the cloth on the basket and looked inside. There were four large cinnamon rolls and a thermos. He sure hoped the thermos had coffee in it.
“Well, Bert, it looks like there’s enough for two in here. Would you like to join me for breakfast?”
Bert seemed to be thinking. He hung his head and scratched behind his left ear then behind his right ear before answering.
“I already ate at the home, but I guess I could eat one more roll just to be neighborly as Miz Daisy always says.”
Gil led the way into the kitchen and set the basket on the table, then pulled down two small plates and two coffee cups.
“Uh, no coffee. I drink milk . . . or water.”
Gil smiled and poured water into one cup and placed it in front of Bert. Then he sat down, opened the thermos, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He decided he’d just have to drink it without sugar. Then he placed a roll on each plate and slid one in front of Bert.
Gil had barely started on his roll when Bert reached into the basket and took out another one. He stopped eating then and just sipped his coffee while he watched Bert as he ate all three of the other rolls without stopping. Gil sure was glad the kid had eaten breakfast before coming over.
As he finished his roll, Gil said, “So, Bert, what can you tell me about First Baptist Church?”
This time Bert not only scratched behind each ear but he also twisted his head from side to side, as he did it. Finally, when Gil thought he wasn’t going to answer, Bert grinned and said, “Good people.”
Gil waited to see if he would say more and was rewarded. He realized that Bert was uncomfortable with silence unless he was feeding his face.
“Miz Daisy brings everybody from the home here every Sunday morning. She’s a real nice lady.”
“How many are there at the home?”
He thought for a moment but didn’t do any scratching or tilting of his head. “Five.” H
e brought his right arm out in front of him and pointed at himself. “Me too.”
Gil tried not to smile. “So there are six of you plus Ms. Daisy.”
Bert only nodded his head emphatically. Gil was beginning to realize that Bert did nothing in a simple way. Every movement was somewhat exaggerated.
Bert slapped his palm against his temple. “And Lucy too.”
Gil fought not to laugh. “And who is Lucy, Bert?”
“She’s Miz Daisy’s little girl.”
Bert looked over at the grandfather clock they could both see sitting in a corner of the living room. Gil looked too. Eight o’clock. He was surprised to realize that he had just spent an enjoyable hour with this amiable young man.
Bert’s lips moved but no sound came out of them. Gil was sure he was trying to figure out what time it was. Finally, he jumped out of his seat and almost shouted, “Gotta go. Gotta get to work.”
Gil took a few more minutes to finish the coffee, placed the thermos back into the basket, and headed for the church office carrying it.
When he walked into the outer office, Betty Lewis, the church secretary, was sitting at her desk working on the computer. She turned and smiled at him.
“Good morning Pastor, welcome to First Baptist Church. Are you ready to get started?”
Gil remembered meeting Betty before. In fact, she had made sure he knew who she was. She’d said they would be working together so they needed to get to know each other. She was medium height and build with short blond hair. She was probably about ten years older than Gil.
He fought off a frown. It seemed that almost everyone around here was older than he was. But then there was Bert of course.
Instead of going on into his office, which was what he would really rather do, he sat in the seat in front of Betty’s desk.
Betty eyed the basket in his lap and said, “Why don’t you give me that and I’ll just give it to Bert when he leaves this afternoon so he can take it back to Daisy.”
No Easy Solution (Crowley County Series Book 1) Page 2