Limited Light

by Carla Rossi

  I think she has a lot on her mind.

  Well, you can’t believe a word of what the members of the hen party have to say.

  Jim laughed. I wouldn’t even consider getting my information from there, and I’m surprised Kim is listening to the talk.

  You know she’s not, but what she’s overheard at the shop hasn’t been kind.

  That’s what he’d been afraid of. If Danny’s wife was hearing things down at the beauty shop, back fences all over town must be rattling with rumors. He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. Well, let’s hope she’s not hurt any further by what the small town minds and mouths have to say.

  Kim says she’s pretty tough. She feels like something bad must have happened or Marti wouldn’t be back here. Danny poked his stringy hair behind his ears. Now. Back to my original question. What do you think of her?

  Jim pulled his chair forward and folded his arms on his desk. He put on his most serious pastor-like face .

  Danny?

  Yes, Jim?

  I’m beginning to regret ever telling you I was praying for a wife.

  Danny lowered his voice, scooted in further, and return Jim’s serious stare. Too late. Now, what do you think of her?

  C’mon, Danny.

  They both leaned back in their chairs.

  You, c’mon, Jim. When a gorgeous, single, Christian woman waltzes into town after you send up a prayer like that, as your best friend and prayer partner, I’m entitled to connect the dots and ask if you felt anything.

  Sheesh! It’s not like pickin’ out tools at Sears. I didn’t test her strength and durability and ask about her warranty.

  Danny burst out laughing. I just mean, what did you think when you met her?

  Jim took a deep breath. I don’t see how she could be the one.

  Okay. That’s all I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you had any gut feelings about her, or any interest, that’s all.

  She is beautiful. Stunning, in fact. And I’m intrigued by her. But she doesn’t exactly fit the profile. She’s a driven career woman on her way to the big city. I’m a small town pastor who needs a partner in this ministry, and that’s a full time job in itself. Call me old fashioned, but I want someone who’ll stay home with our babies and make a home for us.

  I understand. I wish Kim didn’t have to spend so much time at the shop.

  Jim scrubbed his hands across his face. It’s tough being single and thirty in this line of work. There aren’t many prospects in a small town. Everyone wants to set me up with their daughters, nieces, and sisters, but then when I go out with them, there’s gossip. You remember that time I drove into Houston to meet Carol Simpson’s goddaughter? Between the traffic and the concert, I didn’t get home ‘til three in the morning. We were the talk of the town for weeks, and it was a perfectly innocent date.

  Danny arched a brow. You could go online.

  Oh, man. If Preston Woodruff thought I was looking for women online, he’d call the Madison police and the church elders. They’d confiscate my computer and run me out of town. He stood up and gazed out the window. The squirrels were back. Maybe I made a mistake, Danny. Maybe I was supposed to stay in Austin as an associate pastor. Maybe my bride is back there, and I missed her.

  No way. God called you here to shepherd this church as sure as I’m sittin’ here. Don’t doubt yourself.

  But nothing seems to be coming together here. I can’t seem to please these people.

  Some people. There are only some people you can’t please. And they wouldn’t be pleased no matter who was here, so forget it. And we’ll pray harder about your bachelorhood; although, I don’t know why you’re so anxious to give it up.

  Because I want to be blessed like you, Danny.

  Danny nodded. Yep. I love my wife, and I couldn’t make it in this world without her. Now I have to go, ‘cause this conversation just got a little too girly for me.

  Yeah, I gotta get out of here too. We still on for basketball tonight?

  Sure. Danny paused at the door. Don’t worry; it’ll happen.

  Jim remembered Martha’s smooth porcelain skin and soft curves. I hope you’re right.

  ****

  Jim entered Bertie’s Main Street Café at exactly twelve-thirty. He spotted Preston Woodruff, one of the church’s most respected leaders, glancing at the clock from their regular table .

  Good afternoon, Preston. He extended his hand. What looks good today?

  Everything. You’re late.

  Jim glanced at his watch. He was right on time, but this was one of the things he’d learned not to argue with Preston about. How’s Lily? I didn’t see her last night at Bible Study.

  She’s fine. He chuckled and shook his snowy white head. She wears me out, but she’s fine. Last night she had a big project to finish for school.

  How are the nightmares?

  Better, I think. She still sees her therapist once in a while. It’s been almost two years since her parents’ accident. Hopefully one day, she’ll be able to put the whole tragedy behind her.

  Bertie wedged her plump frame between a chair and an adjoining table and planted both of her pudgy hands on her hips. You boys want the special?

  Preston puffed his chest out and shot Bertie one of his million dollar smiles. Who you callin’ a boy?

  Bertie laughed from the depths of her ample belly. The special it is.

  Jim picked up his napkin. What else is on your mind, Preston? I can almost see the wheels turning.

  Just a little concerned, Jim. At our last board meeting you brought up the idea--again--of a new building.

  It’s time to seriously consider the options.

  Bertie reappeared and placed two steaming bowls of chili and a plate of crackers on the table.

  Most of the congregation appears to support some type of expansion.

  But most of the leadership is my age or older. Those guys have been attending LWCC since they were children. They’re content to grow old in those same pews.

  That may be so, but there are more and more young families coming in. Those men and women have a voice too, and that’s the future of the church. Things are growing and changing.

  Preston let it drop and dug into his chili. After several threads of insignificant conversation, he sighed and pushed his bowl away. I’m just trying to warn you, Jim. It’s not going to be easy without the support of your church elders.

  What about your support, Preston? Do I have your support?

  As Preston dropped his gaze to the table and worked his dirty napkin through his fingers, Jim had his answer .

  I appreciate your honesty, but with all due respect, if God intends for us to expand, it’ll happen whether you’re on board or not. I’m going to be praying about it and seeking advice from some experts; then, I guess we’ll just see what happens.

  Preston smiled. Okay, then. I just wanted you to know my concerns.

  Jim put his money on the table. I have to get over to the hospital and check on Kyle’s appendix.

  Preston followed him to the door. Yeah, I heard about that. I guess he scared everyone half to death when that thing ruptured during baseball practice.

  Are he and Lily still dating?

  Preston frowned until his two bushy eyebrows met and formed one hairy line. No, she broke it off with him. She’s been talking to some other guy on the phone. Don’t know him. Doesn’t go to our church. He shook his head. I’m telling you, it’s no picnic raising a teenager at my age.

  Jim landed an encouraging slap on his friend’s back. I wish you didn’t have to. I really do.

  Moments later, Jim turned his late model Honda Civic onto the two lane highway leading to the county hospital. Okay, Lord. Lily and Kyle are each having problems, and Preston Woodruff has made it clear I’m in for a fight. Anything else?

  In the time it took him to blink, a large brownish-black dog popped up out of the ditch and raced straight for the road. He instinctively jerked the wheel and tried to avoid
the animal without leaving his own lane. Too late. There was a thump as the dog came in contact with the front right fender, then bounced off and ran – or maybe rolled - back down into the ditch. He pulled the car off the road. Lord, I did not need to kill anyone’s pet today…

  He stood on the side of the road and looked down over the slight embankment. Oh, brother. Roscoe, if that’s you, I’m gonna find the biggest rope in Madison and make sure you never make it off the porch.

  He heard a whimper and headed into the ditch .

  ****

  Marti pulled on her fat jeans and grabbed her laptop before heading onto the front porch. Grandma Rose was kneeling by the flower bed, pulling out weeds and adding a border of dusty miller along the stone boundary .

  Marti put her things on the swing and padded barefoot to the edge of the porch. I thought you were going to wait on me. I told you I would help with that.

  Nah, it’s okay. I can manage. Gardening is my therapy. I yank out my weeds of frustration and plant my flowering hopes and dreams with faith.

  Marti rolled her eyes. How much cornball daytime television have you been watching?

  The older woman peeked up from under her wide brimmed straw hat. Watch it, smarty. Gardening is my therapy. She stabbed the ground with her trowel. What are you up to?

  Marti sat down on the swing and flipped open her computer. Well, this morning after breakfast I updated my resume and prepared twelve cover letters to possible employers in the Dallas Metro area. I searched the online classifieds, and then submitted about six more applications and inquiries electronically.

  Grandma Rose shook a sprinkle of plant food into the newly dug hole. I have some stamps in there if you need to get those packets in the mail.

  No, I’m not mailing anything. I’m heading to the office supply store later to get a fax machine. I also need a ream of paper, and you need a new printer cartridge. She snapped her computer closed again. Oh. I also need to take four suits to the dry cleaners so I’ll be ready for interviews.

  Grandma Rose sat back on her heels and looked around. Would you hand me that tray of plants over there? If I get up from this position, I won’t get down again. My knees simply won’t allow it.

  Marti jumped up to do as her grandmother asked, and then knelt beside her on the ground. Here, I’ll dig the holes for a while.

  Go grab a pair of gloves out of the shed.

  No, my nails are already a mess. I need to get a manicure and pedicure before I leave. Do you have someone good in town?

  Yes, as a matter of fact Kim McIntyre has a beauty shop down on Main Street. She has a nail gal that rents space from her.

  Kim McIntyre? You’re saying that like I should know who you’re talking about.

  You do. It’s Kimmie Van Hoozen.

  Oh, Kimmie . I always liked Kimmie. How is she?

  She’s great. She and her husband Danny have a baby. They’re youth pastors at church. She tried to catch you last night.

  Marti sat back with the shovel in one hand and a plant dangling in the other. She thought back to the two of them at youth group, concocting schemes and mischievous pranks that outwitted even the most seasoned chaperones. Oh, yeah. She and Kimmie shared secrets they would take to their graves. Marti waved her arms in the air. I didn’t even see her with all the people crammed in that sanctuary.

  Martha?

  Yes?

  Are you gonna put that poor baby in the ground or just wave it around until you’ve strangled it to death.

  Marti glanced at the wilting plant clasped tightly in her grip. She dropped it in the hole. Sorry.

  Tell you what. Grandma Rose took the shovel away. You go wash your hands and run your errands. When you get back, we’ll think about dinner. Okay?

  Marti stood and dusted herself off. Fine. I get it. You just don’t want me here where I can maim and mutilate innocent plants with my black thumb.

  Sweet laughter filled the air. No, it’s not that. Grandma Rose held her hand out to Marti. Here, help me up. I need to go around back with the rest of these.

  Marti tugged until her grandmother was upright. They heard a tiny crack.

  Hear that? I think that’s my knee tellin’ me to stop torturing it. She placed her tools in the wooden box she used to tote her supplies. It’s just that we have such a short time together, I want to make the most of it. I’m looking forward to sitting on the swing this afternoon and talking with you. I’ve missed you.

  Oh, please. I know this is about the plants.

  There was that musical laughter again. Oh, by the way. What did you think of Pastor James?

  Marti snapped the lid onto the container of plant food and hoisted a bag of potting soil up under her arm. You mean Jim Bowman, mysterious cemetery dweller?

  Grandma Rose didn’t even respond. She instead gave Marti that don’t be disrespectful glare .

  He should have told me who he was when we met.

  Why? Do you introduce yourself as ‘Financial Advisor Martha’ when you meet someone for the first time? C’mon, be fair. People call him Pastor James out of respect for his job. His friends call him Jim.

  So why was Jim here Sunday afternoon?

  He’s my pastor and my friend, Martha. And neither of us have family in Madison, so we have Sunday dinner together a lot.

  Okay, that didn’t make her feel too bad. After all, Houston was just down the road and there were plenty of times she could have come to see her grandmother. Especially on a Sunday afternoon. Three times a year wasn’t enough, she supposed. She’d have to visit more often once she settled into a new job.

  Oh well, just something else to beat herself up about .

  Grandma Rose pulled off her hat and wiped her brow. Do you think he’s handsome?

  What?

  Do you think Pastor James is handsome?

  Only downright yummy . He’s okay, I guess.

  I don’t think that covers it, Martha. That man is a real hottie.

  Grandma Rose!

  What? She shrugged. I’m sixty-nine, not dead.

  Marti sat down on the swing and gathered her things. Look, I don’t know what you want me to say, but let’s review. I’m here because I’m a complete disaster when it comes to romance. Therefore, I’ve decided I’m no longer interested in it. I don’t want to date or be fixed up or get married. I don’t want to ogle the hotties in town--not even with you. I’m only here for a short time, so put the idea out of your head. Besides, a man like that doesn’t want anything to do with a woman like me, so that’s the end of it. She felt that telltale catch of tears in the back of her throat. She swallowed it and stood up. And another thing. I simply refuse to cry about this anymore. She stomped into the house, but then turned around and poked her head back out the screen door. I’m leaving in a minute. Do you need anything while I’m out?

  No, sweetie. I’ll see you when you get back.

  Marti washed up and grabbed her purse and shoes. She tossed them into the front seat. Okay, Ruby, another trip down this bumpy drive.

  Early spring wildflowers dotted the fields along the highway, but the vibrant bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes did little to lighten the tremendous weight that had settled in her stomach .

  As she rounded a curve, she spotted someone chasing a dog along the side of the road. Every time the man got close, the dog ran. Marti smiled. Pastor James .

  She remembered the cargo net she had in her trunk. You know, Ruby, I should stop and help. It would be the Christian thing to do. Cars in the other lane whizzed by without even slowing down. She glanced in the rearview mirror and pulled off the road .

  She unhooked her cargo net and shook it out. It was plenty big enough to drop over the large dog long enough to get a hold of him--if he wasn’t vicious, of course. She quickly struggled into her cross trainers. I don’t even care for dogs .

  She stood at the edge and yelled over the noise of passing cars. What’s going on?

  Pastor James looked up. I think this is Roscoe. I want to mak
e sure he’s okay and take him home.

  She started into the ditch .

  Wait! Pastor James held up his hand. Do you have your shoes on? It’s muddy down here and there’s broken glass and trash.

  Yes, Pastor James. I have my shoes on. She walked until the dog was between them. It was her best chance to trap him. If the dog turned and headed her way, she’d, well...she’d do something .

  When Pastor James took a step in Roscoe’s direction, he turned tail and headed toward her .

  Here, Roscoe. She whistled. C’mon, boy.

  Roscoe trotted to her. She dropped the net on top of him, at which time he rolled over on his back in complete submission .

  Marti stood with her hands on her hips as Pastor James approached. She had no idea what to do next .

  Why Miss Martha. Do all men drop to your feet in total surrender or just the really furry ones?

  Blood rushed to her cheeks. Every synapse in her brain fired. Now would be the time to say something really snappy. Something really clever. She opened her mouth. A big fat zippo came out .

  Mercifully, he returned his attention to the dirty, matted dog without waiting for her response. She didn’t know who was more embarrassed--him for blurting out a comical remark she didn’t laugh at, or her for standing there like a doofus with nothing to reply .

  He pulled his belt from his jeans and secured it around the dog’s neck. Don’t worry, boy, I know it’s not dignified, but it’s just ‘til I can get you home.

  Marti dug in her pocket for her keys and fumbled with the net as she turned to leave. I’ll see you later.

  Wait. Don’t rush off. I want to talk to you.

  I have to be somewhere and--

  C’mon, you can talk for a minute.

  They walked up the opposite embankment. He patted the ground in invitation for her to sit nearby .

  It’s a good thing you came along when you did. I might have been here all day chasing this dog around.

  She caught her lip between her teeth--an old nervous habit. She tested a response in her head before saying it. No, I think you were gaining ground. What happened?

  Old Roscoe here darted up out of the ditch and ran right into the side of my car. I was worried he was hurt.