by Teri Wilson
Goldie stopped giggling long enough to reply, “Hey, maybe I could wear my Sponge Bob pajamas.”
They collapsed into one another with laughter until their shoulders bumped against each other. Soon the dogs bounded over to see what all the fuss was about. Bliss climbed into Goldie’s lap and Java’s plumed tail beat against Joe’s cheek.
“Thanks for the mouthful of hair, you stinker,” he muttered to the Siberian Husky, which sent Goldie into another fit of laughter.
Joe sent up another silent prayer of thanks. He always knew it could be good between the two of them. How many times had he imagined moments such as this one? The two of them laughing and enjoying one another’s company? More times than he could count. And there would be many, many more as far as he was concerned.
He hoped with every fiber of his being that Cinnamon would show up at church tomorrow. If it hadn’t been for their impromptu agreement, he would ask Goldie out on a proper date right here and now. He toyed with the idea of forgetting about Cinnamon and asking her out anyway. The memory of the tender fit of Goldie’s hand cradled in his, beckoned to him. The smooth, soft feel of her fingers laced through his.
But, no. He couldn’t do it. He’d reached out to Cinnamon and talked to her about Jesus. She was on the verge of coming to church and learning more, perhaps even giving her heart to God. What if he went ahead and asked Goldie out on a date? Cinnamon would be thrilled for him, no doubt. But, would she still come to church?
Somehow, he doubted it. It was a risk he couldn’t take. Not when Cinnamon’s relationship with the Lord might depend on it.
He would have to wait it out. He’d waited this long. What was a little while longer?
Too long!
He ignored the voice in his head and concentrated instead on Goldie’s mass of blonde curls and her pink, bow-shaped lips. “Seriously, you should enter the show. It would be fun.”
And it would mean I could see more of you.
“That’s easy for you to say. You and Java did the entire course with perfect precision. Off lead!”
“Well, you have to remember that we’ve been working at this a little longer than you and Bliss. You’ll get there someday. But you’re already almost ready for the Novice class.” They weren’t empty words. Goldie had a knack for training and Bliss was happy to do whatever she asked. “Just think, if Bliss won a ribbon you could bring it to the library and show it off to her legions of fans.”
Goldie rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t have any fans yet. I haven’t even started. The kids might not even like her. Or me, for that matter.”
“Surely you don’t believe that.” Joe fixed his gaze with hers, intent on making sure she knew he was serious. “I meant what I said earlier. You can do anything you set out to do. You are a warm, caring woman. I’ve seen how you nurture people, take care of those around you. Of course, those kids will love you. How could they not?”
How could I not?
The air stood still between them, and it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and kiss her. To tell her how he felt about her all this time. Goldie’s eyes grew wide, like glistening pools of cool, clear water. And Joe panicked, suddenly afraid he’d said too much, too soon. What was he doing?
“Well, um,” Goldie stammered, “I hope you’re right.”
He wanted to assure her, to tell her whatever would take away her doubts. He would promise her anything—the sun, the stars, the moon—if he thought she was ready to hear it. But, he couldn’t push her. Wouldn’t.
“I am. You’ll see.” He winked. “Maybe I’ll stop by Monday morning with a special cup of coffee to kick-start your first day. Would that be OK?”
“Maybe. It depends.” She peeked at him demurely from behind the fringe of her lashes. “Could I have whipped cream on top?”
His thoughts screamed whatever your heart desires. But instead, he said, “I think that could be arranged.”
“And could it be caramel flavored?”
“Of course. Unless you’d like to try something new.”
“No.” Goldie’s gaze settled over him, full of unspoken emotion that left him breathless. “New things can be nice, but sometimes the very best things are the ones that have been around all along.”
Cup of Joe
Inspirational romance, Christian romance, Christian fiction, romance novel, christian romance novel, teri wilson, white rose publishing
Cup of Joe
Chapter Seven
The next morning something near miraculous happened. Goldie woke up to a persistent, furry paw poking her in the face. The miraculous part wasn’t so much the paw as the fact that she woke up at all. Because, as everyone knows, waking up means there was actual sleep going on.
Sleep. The one thing that had eluded her night after night since living in the house alone.
Somewhere between curling up in bed, her head swirling with thoughts of Joe, and waking up with her mind a fuzzy haze of dogs and signs with crazy arrows, she’d fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. Yet still, upon waking, he was there. Joe. The memory of his kind words of encouragement, his strong arms wrapped around her when she’d told him about her new job and the way his hair curled up at the ends where it grazed his collar. Most of all, she remembered the way his gaze lighted on her lips when they sat side by side on the curb, and she’d wondered what he was thinking. Were his thoughts the same as hers? Did he, too, wonder what it might be like if their lips came together in a kiss?
Goldie sighed with contentment and stretched beneath her squishy down comforter. As strange and intriguing as her time spent with Joe felt, at the same time it brought her a deep sense of comfort. She’d returned home from dog training class feeling as though her heart itself was wrapped in a tight, peaceful hug.
“Thank you, Lord. Thank you for sleep. Thank you for yesterday. Thank you for Joe.”
Goldie froze after she mumbled the words aloud in the direction of the ceiling. Bliss darted her head to and fro searching for the cause of Goldie’s alarm.
She had just spoken to God for the first time since Grandpa’s death. All these days she’d been resisting, holding back from any sort of eternal conversation. Even at the funeral, she’d remained stoic, refusing to seek His presence. And now, here she was, shooting up a causal prayer of thanksgiving.
Could it really be that simple? All this time she’d been afraid to talk to Him. She dreaded having the Big Conversation. The one about her Grandpa and how it felt now that she was alone. So, she’d remained silent, ignoring the God who she’d been so close to since she was a small child.
Of course, she knew He was there all along. Now maybe she could talk to Him again, as she did before. Maybe they didn’t even need to have the Big Conversation.
She hoped so.
In any case, she supposed it was a relief she could at least utter a few words to Him since she was about to try out a new church.
Goldie groaned aloud at the mere thought of walking into Eve’s Sunday school class, and resisted the temptation to pull the covers over her head. She didn’t belong there. She wasn’t a “young single.” Not in the same sense as all the other people there were. What could she possibly have in common with them? She was willing to bet none of them had watched Name that Price in the last month. Or sat down and played an old-fashioned board game.
Deep down, she knew she could be wrong. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had more in common with the members of her Care Group than the young singles. She supposed it didn’t really matter in the long run. She couldn’t go back to Care Group anyway. At least not until her 65th birthday.
Goldie climbed out of bed.
“Time to face the music,” she muttered to Bliss. “But I promise you one thing. If I walk into that classroom and see a disco ball hanging from the ceiling I am turning right around and coming back home.”
There was no disco ball. And there was no chance of chickening out and running anywhere. Eve swooped down, squealing with glee, t
he second Goldie walked in the door.
“You came.” Eve threw her arms around her and lifted a perfectly groomed eyebrow at the amethyst velvet bag hanging from her shoulder. “Cute purse. Is it new?”
Oh no. No, no, no. Goldie fought to keep herself between Eve and the dog carrier. “Um, no. It’s old. Older than the hills.”
Eve shimmied from side to side, trying to peek around Goldie and get a good glimpse of the bag. “Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”
What Goldie did next was hardly the smartest move. But, gripped with panic at the possibility of Eve finding Bliss nestled inside the purple velvet bag, she wasn’t thinking straight. So, she did the only thing she knew for a fact would divert Eve’s attention from the fancy pet carrier.
She turned on her brightest smile and cooed in Eve’s ear. “Wow, who is that guy over there? Isn’t he dreamy?”
The minute the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Eve would never, ever let this go.
Sure enough. Her eyes widened in surprise, then a look came over her face that made the contestants who were invited to “come name that price” look downright sedate. “Oh, my gosh! I knew this was going to happen. You’ve already found someone you’re interested in. Aren’t you so glad you came?”
No, as a matter of fact I’m not. I’ve been here less than a minute, and it’s already turned into a complete, unmitigated disaster.
Eve’s head swiveled around at an alarming rate. “Who? Who is it? Which one is he?”
Goldie just stood there, trying in desperation to figure out some way to start the entire day over again. What she wouldn’t give to be back in her bed, pale sunlight filtering through her eyelet curtains, tender memories of Joe and dog-training class playing on her mind.
But Eve’s matchmaking freight train had already left the station, and there was no stopping it. “Point him out to me.” She clutched Goldie’s forearm with a finely manicured death grip. “But try not to be too obvious. Be cool.”
If there was ever a testament to the fact that Goldie didn’t have a single cool bone in her body it was this precise moment. What had possessed her to say such a thing? It must have been the disco balls dancing in her head.
“Uh, ahem,” she stammered while she looked around for some, poor guy to play the role of cute guy in this ridiculous little drama. “Him. Over there.”
Goldie jerked her head toward a rather large, blonde surfer-dude type standing near the room’s only window. He seemed nice looking, in a sandy sort of way, but the reason she chose him had more to do with the fact that he was engaged in a serious looking conversation with another woman. A woman who bore a striking resemblance to Heidi Klum in all her long-legged glory. Goldie figured this guy would be a harmless choice. No matter what Eve did to try to push them together, she’d be safe. He would never choose her over Heidi.
“Perfect.”
Before Goldie knew what was happening, Eve had dragged her across the room and shoved her between Heidi and Surfer-guy.
“Hey Josh,” Eve purred. “Have you met my friend Goldie? She’s new here.”
“No. Er, no I haven’t. Hi Goldie. It’s nice to meet you.” Josh gestured toward Heidi, who seemed surprisingly unperturbed at the interruption. But, then again, when you look like a supermodel, does anything ever get you down? “And this is my sister, Jill.”
“Hey Goldie. We’re glad to have you here,” Heidi/Jill said.
His sister. Great.
Goldie pasted on a smile and said as few words as possible. “Hi.”
She searched the walls of the Sunday school room for a clock and offered up her second prayer of the day.
Dear Lord, please, please get this show on the road before I can get myself into any more trouble.
“Good morning and God bless everyone,” the pastor’s voice boomed from behind a podium at the front of the room. “Shall we get started? Everyone find a seat.”
At last. Divine intervention.
Thank you, Lord.
“You don’t mind if we sit with you, do you Josh?” Eve batted her eyelashes at the poor guy and then shoved Goldie into the folding chair next to his.
Goldie let out a weary sigh and clutched the purple bag close to her heart, seeking the security and familiarity of Bliss’s warmth. Of course, if she’d left the dog at home like a normal person, she wouldn’t be in this mess right now, would she?
“Let’s open with a prayer, shall we?” The pastor smiled at all the young singles lined up in their chairs, pausing for a moment when his gaze lighted on Goldie. He winked at her, the newcomer, before closing his eyes and beginning the opening prayer.
Goldie shut her eyes and tried to concentrate on the prayer. This was church after all. She let the pastor’s words wash over her and bring the slightest bit of peace to her soul. When she opened her eyes, she did so with a new attitude. So what if Eve thought she found Josh attractive? Nothing would come of it. As soon as Sunday school was over, she would drag Eve off to a nice lunch somewhere and tell her all about her afternoon at the dog training class. She would fess up and admit to her friend that she thought she was developing feelings for Joe. Eve might be disappointed at first, since she didn’t think he was dating material for some ridiculous reason. But, in the end, she would accept it and be happy for Goldie. Heck, she might even be excited. She was doing it—moving on. In her own way.
All she had to do was survive the next hour and everything would be fine.
That would have been easy.
If not for the crinkly bag.
At dog training class, Goldie had heard some of the other handlers joking around about the dreaded “crinkly bag.” She had looked in question at Joe who was more than happy to explain.
“Ah yes, the crinkly bag.” His eyes had danced when he’d said it, and Goldie had had to concentrate really hard to absorb what he was saying. “A dog handler’s worst nightmare.”
“Why is that?” she’d asked.
“Well, above all, dogs are creatures of habit. And they’re smart. Much smarter than we give them credit for.” At this point, Joe had run his hand casually over Java’s pointy ears. “Like most dogs, Java loves food. It didn’t take long for him to learn the sound of dog biscuits shaking in a cardboard box or the hum of a can opener prying open a can of wet dog food.”
“Ahh,” Goldie had said, having an inkling where this story was going. “I know what you mean. Bliss already comes running when she hears the refrigerator door open.”
“Then let me ask you—has Bliss ever tasted a potato chip?”
Goldie shook her head. “No. I don’t eat that junk.”
Joe’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “Never, ever?”
“Nope. Never. No chips.” Then Goldie lowered her voice into a whisper. “Maybe the occasional cheese puff, but definitely no potato chips.”
Joe laughed. “Too late then. You’re doomed. She knows what sorts of treasure lie in those crinkly bags.”
“You mean chip bags?”
“Mmm hmm. Even if you never let her eat one, she can smell them. And what dog could resist the smell of a tasty cheese ball?”
“OK. I think I get it. She probably knows that the sound of a crinkly bag means yummy food.”
“Bingo!” Joe winked at her, sending her stomach into a tumbling riot. “Just wait until you’re at a dog show and someone nearby picks that moment to open up a bag of chips while you’re in the obedience ring.”
Or church.
As it turned out, the crinkly bag wasn’t her downfall at a dog show. No, Goldie’s crinkly bag experience took place in a much more humiliating setting.
Everything had been going so well. She’d managed to forget she was sandwiched between surfer-Josh and Eve, even though Eve kept poking her in the ribs and trying to get her attention. She stayed focused on the pastor’s message and flipped through the wispy pages of her Bible, propped up on the top of the velvet bag, still sitting innocently in her lap.
/> Then, somewhere down her row of folding chairs, she heard it. The crinkly bag.
So did Bliss.
At the very first rustle of cellophane, the purple bag shifted sideways with a sudden jolt.
Goldie tightened her grip on the bag and wondered who in the world would eat chips in the middle of a Sunday school class.
Maybe it’s not chips. It could be cheese balls. Or those dried onion circles. They’re pretty popular. I’ve never like them much, though.
Goldie shook her head. What was she doing, sitting here ranking her junk food preferences? She had to make a plan or at the next crinkle, her purple bag just might fly off her lap altogether.