by Carla Rossi
Marti remembered Jim’s desperate attempts to talk to her in the parking lot. Yes.
And did you let him?
She dropped her gaze. No.
Maybe you should give him a chance.
I can’t, Dad, she said as two new tears slid down her face. It hurts too much.
Maybe it’ll hurt a lot worse if you don’t.
She let go of his hand. I have to go.
By the time Marti and her mother returned with their bags, Grandma Rose had already gone back to lie down .
Your grandma wants to see you, her father said .
Marti tapped softly on the door. Grandma Rose sat up in the dim light of her bedside lamp.
C’mere, sweetie, I want to tell you something.
Marti propped a pillow behind the older woman’s head and scooted in next to her on the bed. I’m sorry to leave like this.
Humph. Don’t you worry. I knew you had to go eventually. But I’m gonna hold you to your frequent visits.
Marti smiled as her heart just kept shattering. I’ll be here. Every weekend. And hopefully Mom and Dad will be here a while.
I don’t think they’re leaving anytime soon. She grasped Marti’s two hands between hers. Now listen. This is important. First of all, I don’t think for one minute it’s over with you and Pastor James. I don’t know how this happened, but I’ll give you this advice: don’t let your anger or your pride stop you from one of God’s richest blessings. If that’s the man God gave you, you shouldn’t be running away from him. You should be running toward him.
But—
There are no buts, Martha. I am an old woman, and I know what I’m talking about. She paused. Now. About Preston Woodruff. I have a theory about people like him--the ones who spread harsh rumors and hurt other people. Whatever those people say or think about you, it’s a sign of their small faith and warped view of God’s mercy and understanding. They’re wrong, Martha. Their self-righteous criticism is not what our faith is about. Those people are walking in limited light. They don’t know the true brightness and illumination of what being a Christian and serving God is about. They are narrow and cruel, and it’s dark where they are. Let it go. They’re not worth the energy it takes to try to prove them wrong. Only God can show them full brightness.
Marti managed a crooked, painful smile. I understand, Grandma Rose.
Good. Now give me a hug and I’ll see you soon.
Marti melted into her grandma’s safe embrace. Real soon.
Limited Light
Chapter Twelve
It was past midnight when Jim got in his car in the church parking lot. I think I’m forgetting something...oh yeah, pie... He headed back into the church’s tiny kitchen to get the two cream pies from the fridge. It wasn’t that he was remotely interested in pie, what with the rest of his world falling apart, but somehow he thought he should have something when he went to make up with Marti. Pie probably wasn’t the correct choice .
It had taken an hour to hash it out with Preston--and they still hadn’t resolved anything--and another hour to finish up with Chris. Then there were the cold stares and angry looks from everyone at the meeting. Apparently, Marti had a new fan club that now thought she hung the moon, and he’d been demoted to the same level as one who kicks puppies .
Danny and Charles did their part to offer advice and even prayed with him over what they called the dire situation. Chris Bonaventure, a true businessman, left him with a card and a pile of information. And he did want Jim to know he would be happy to work with him, but made it clear he thought he wasn’t good enough for his dear friend, Marti .
So this is what it’s like when the whole town hates you.. .
Jim headed up the bumpy drive at twelve-forty-five. He put the pies on the porch swing--to avoid the possibility of them flying back in his face--and pounded on the door .
The man who had to be Marti’s dad answered the door. He stood there, an imposing figure with his legs braced apart and arms crossed. Despite his ramrod military posture, Jim was a little surprised to find he looked so much like a...like a hippie?
Hi, Jim said and extended his hand. I’m Jim Bowman.
Will Randolph, he answered and offered a solid handshake before snapping his arm back across his chest, still guarding the door .
Look, I know it’s late Mr. Randolph but--
Will. Call me Will.
Okay. I know it’s late, Will, but I need to speak with Marti. Jim swatted at the cloud of insects that swirled around his head near the porch light and wondered if the man was ever going to invite him in .
Where’s the pie?
What?
The pie. You were supposed to bring pie.
Jim darted to the swing and retrieved two white boxes. I’ve got it, and if you don’t mind, I really need to see Marti.
She’s not here.
Aw, man, I didn’t see her car but I thought maybe it was in the garage... The words trailed off as he shoved the boxes at Will, forcing him to un-cross his arms and take them. He turned and hopped off the porch. Where is she? he asked over his shoulder. Kimmie’s? I have to see her tonight.
She’s on her way to Dallas .
Now that was a cannonball to the gut. He grabbed the rail he’d built along the steps for Rose as he lost his breath. He paused for a moment and used the arm of his shirt to wipe his brow. There was only one thing to do. I guess I’m going to have to go get her. Nice meeting you, Will.
Hold up. Will put the pies on the table in the foyer and stepped outside. I need to ask you something. He pulled the door closed behind him .
Jim stood in the front yard with his hands on his hips. He was hot, he was tired, he was desperately in love, and sick to his stomach because of it. He was also facing a drive to Dallas in the middle of the night to find a woman who didn’t want to see him and whose location was unknown. And most of his congregation was irritated with him. Anything else, Lord ?
Do you love my daughter?
Jim snapped his head around. What?
Do you love my daughter? Will sat down on the edge of the porch. It’s a simple question.
Jim turned. Well, I was kinda hoping to share that information with Marti first, but yes; I am in love with your daughter.
I see.
Jim swiped his brow again and shuffled his feet in the dew-kissed grass. Look, you don’t know me, but I’m sure you know I’ve really messed things up tonight. I need to get on the road and--
I’ve got a better idea.
What’s that?
Let me give you a piece of advice. Will leaned back against the railing. She’s pretty mad right now and hurt. I know my daughter, and you need to give her a chance to cool down. This is Thursday night. He glanced at his watch. Well...Friday morning. I say come on in, and we’ll have pie and coffee and talk about it. By Sunday, you’ll know what to do, and she’ll be ready to see you.
What if that’s too late?
It won’t be.
How can you be so sure?
I believe I’ve been around long enough to know God’s work when I see it.
It wasn’t like he could argue with that. He grabbed the rail with one arm and put his foot on the bottom step. But I feel like she at least needs to know I’m sorry and I love her.
She knows, Son. Besides, if you’re gonna go runnin’ off and declaring your love for my daughter, don’t you think you should run it by me first and let me make sure you’re good enough for her?
Oh, I’m sorry, Sir, Jim blurted out. I was going to do everything the right way, I just really wanted to fix this mess I made tonight, then go from there--
Will’s laughter cut him off .
Nice job, Jim. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Sir?’ Way to show him what a polite seventeen-year-old pimply faced boy you are .
Will opened the door and motioned for Jim to go inside. C’mon, let’s eat pie and figure this out. Oh, and watch out for my mother.
Rose? Why?
She has a frying pan with your nam
e on it.
****
Jim stood in the church foyer and waited for Will. He was wearing Marti’s favorite charcoal suit, the one made of lightweight silk for warmer temperatures. And since she’d explained to him that pink was the answer to everything, he even wore a silver-gray tie with flecks of pink in it over his starched white shirt .
Will approached from the side of the building. Sorry I’m late.
Are you trying to kill me? Jim asked as they exchanged a warm handshake .
You ready? You know where you’re going after this?
Yes and yes.
Okay, then. If everything goes as planned, I’ll see you tonight--along with my wife and daughter.
Jim headed for the pulpit while Will took a seat up front. Nine o’clock sharp. There was no time to waste .
Good morning, everyone.
The congregation answered .
We’re doing things a little differently this morning. I have two announcements, and then I’m going to turn the service over to the worship leader to continue as usual. First of all, I want to announce that after a long and sometimes turbulent meeting between the leadership of this church and a representative from Foundations of Faith Consulting Group , we have decided to proceed with the beginning stages of a building plan. Cheers and applause rose throughout the congregation. Now let me warn you, this is just the beginning. We have a lot of work to do. A lot of fundraising, a lot of prayer. We’re still a long way from breaking ground--but we can see it from here. More cheers and applause. Jim settled in. He was starting to enjoy this. Even his staunchest critics were getting excited--except for, once again, Preston Woodruff, who had yet to crack a smile. Oh well, he’s your problem, Lord .
Now for the second thing. The crowd quieted to soft murmurs and whispers. On a personal note, I want to share something. As a pastor, my life is not my own. I understand that. It’s hard to keep things private. People think they should know things about my personal life, and if they don’t hear it from me, they have a tendency to make things up. They laughed. Good. He meant for them to. It was funny. So, this morning I’m going to tell you something about myself. He paused to clear his throat. As most of you know, I’ve been dating someone for the last several weeks. Her name is Marti Randolph, and I want to tell you a few things about her. The obvious thing is that she’s beautiful. But that’s not the best part. Another thing is that she’s brilliant. She can talk about anything to anyone, and can make sense of the most confusing issues. And as some of you have discovered, she’s a math genius.
He had to pause while the youth whooped and hollered. But that’s not the best part. She’s compassionate, loving, wise, funny, considerate, shy, honest, clever, sincere--I could go on for hours and still not cover it all--but that’s not the best part either. The best part, the part that I’m most thankful for, is that God sent her to me. He brought her into my life at a time when I was beginning to think there was no one out there for me.
Jim stopped. He knew this would be emotional, but he didn’t know it would be this emotional. He swallowed hard. Anyway, the problem is, right now she’s not speaking to me.
He had to chuckle as everyone said Ahhhh then started mumbling. It’s my fault, of course. I wasn’t there for her at a time when she needed me. And that is something I have to settle with her. Right now, she’s in Dallas, and I’m here, and I intend to go after her.
Jim suddenly understood what people meant when they said the crowd went wild . He had to wait for them to regain control so he could finish. I would like to introduce Marti’s father, Reverend Will Randolph. He will be covering for me this morning. Will stood and acknowledged the crowd. Okay, Jim concluded, I’m outta here to bring my future wife, Miss Martha Rose Randolph, home.
Jim headed for the door amidst even more raucous hallelujahs and amens than the time Harley Dobbs walked forward and swore off whisky. Of course, poor Harley died six months later of a heart attack while reeling in a seven-pound bass, but he was stone cold sober at the time .
****
Marti’s eyelids blinked open. She took a weary look at the clock radio on the hotel nightstand. Nine o’clock. And on a Sunday morning, no less. She longed to be sitting in church with Grandma Rose .
How do you feel about everything this morning? Catherine Randolph turned over in the matching double bed across the room and gazed at her daughter with an empathetic smile .
Well, Marti yawned. I slept exactly thirty-two and a half minutes all night. My head hurts, my heart aches, and my foot is still tender. And I’m thinking if that man doesn’t do something soon, I’m going to borrow Grandma Rose’s frying pan and work him over myself.
I see. Her mother sat up and scrubbed her fingers through her short, spiky hair. So you’re not mad anymore?
No, I’m not mad, she whispered. Just desperate to see him. She rolled over on her back and rested her arm across her eyes. Maybe I scared him away for good. Maybe he doesn’t love me after all.
Somehow I don’t think that’s it, her mother said, and headed for the bathroom.
Marti groaned. What should I do? I love him.
Give him just a little more time. Then, if he doesn’t make his move, you may have to make one of your own--frying pan notwithstanding. Besides, she said and turned on the shower, God is still in control.
Marti closed her eyes. At exactly nine-ten, her cell phone rang. She didn’t even get the word hello out of her mouth .
Marti! The voice on the other end was an excited shriek. Then there was a scream .
Kimmie? Are you okay?
Oh, Marti, she laughed into the phone. You are not gonna believe this.
Marti listened intently as Kimmie giggled and squealed her way through a blow-by-blow of the first ten minutes of church .
She flipped her phone closed and jumped out of bed .
MMMOOOOOOMMM!!!!!!
Within a few hours, her mother was placing her bag by the door. This is a pretty swanky place. I’m gonna miss it.
Marti started stuffing her belongings into her duffle. Yeah, I know. It’s the sitting room I love. It’s so northeastern chic. She backed up to her mother and pulled her hair off her back. Here. Zip me up.
It’s the balcony that does it for me. It’s so French Quarter.
Marti’s cell phone rang again. Her mother picked it up to read the display. It’s Kimmie again. You want it?
Marti shook her head. You take it. I have to brush my teeth.
Hello? Yeah? She’s wearing that strapless white eyelet dress with the yellow ribbon around the waist and the little daisies embroidered across the bottom. Okay, bye.
It rang again as Marti dabbed a puff of shimmering powder across her shoulders .
Her mother pulled her drugstore reading glasses on. No name on this one, but the last four digits are six-three-two-seven.
That’s Charles and Natalie’s house. Answer it.
It’s Melissa, she mouthed to Marti, then returned to the phone. Yes, she knows. Isn’t it exciting? Okay, I’ll tell her. She flipped the phone closed. That was Melissa.
Marti giggled and slipped into her sandals. I heard. How do I look?
Like someone who’s about to be captured by the man she loves and taken home.
She giggled again. Seemed it was all she could do since she started getting the phone calls earlier in the morning. She handed her mother a perfume bottle. Here, spray this around so I can walk through it.
So what do you want me to do? her mother asked as Marti sashayed through the mist .
Uh...wait ‘til he gets here, then get lost. And above all else, take that stupid cell phone with you.
Okay, I’ll wait out in the hall.
There was a sharp knock on the door. They both screamed .
Marti punched her mother’s arm. Say just a minute. It was a hoarse whisper .
Ouch . What?
Sorry. Say just a minute .
Oh, she whispered then raised her voice. Just a minute, she called toward the doo
r .
Marti grabbed the handle. I’m gonna open it, she whispered .
Okay, her mother said, still rubbing her arm, open it.
I will.
There was another sharp knock .
Her mother pushed her aside. Oh for the love of... She swung the door wide .
Marti stepped back into the middle of the sitting room. She couldn’t stop the tiny gasp that escaped her lips. Have mercy, that man looks good .
He was leaning in the doorway with one hand on the frame and one hand full of... weeds ?
He extended his hand to her mother. I’m Jim Bowman.
Hi, Jim. Bye, Jim. I’ll be in the hall.
He kicked the door closed .
Marti licked her lips and smoothed her dress. This is my sitting room. She waved her hand around. Would you like to sit?
He dropped the, uh, weeds on the table and within two strides he had her gathered in his arms and in the throes of a massive double lip-lock .
Marti sighed, closed her eyes, and went completely mushy from the inside out. Wow ! This is so like a famous movie kiss.. .
He pulled away and left her standing rather stupefied in the sitting room. Now I want to sit.
Now I need to sit, she answered. She sank into the soft burgundy couch and folded her hands in her lap .
Jim shed his jacket and threw it on the chair then loosened his tie--but he wasn’t saying anything .
Panic set in. Maybe he doesn’t want me after all... She gave the cushion a weak little pat .
I couldn’t sleep last night, she started softly as he sat down. I was out on the balcony this morning at dawn praying about us. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come for me.
No, he said and took her hands in his. Don’t ever think that. Your dad said you needed some time and--
My dad ? You’ve been talking to my dad ?
Don’t worry, he laughed. He’s been a lot of help. His smiled faded. A serious wrinkle creased his forehead. I’m sorry about Preston, about the meeting. I got scared there for a minute. Part of me wanted to pound the guy, and I knew that wasn’t right. Then, I felt like I couldn’t react as strongly as I wanted to because everyone would know how I felt about you, and I didn’t think I could be that personal in a meeting like that and--