Flirting with Disaster

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Flirting with Disaster Page 6

by Sandra Byrd


  On the way out of lunch, I grumbled, “Was she dropped on her head at birth or something?”

  Penny laughed out loud. “Oh, Savvy, you’re so funny. Ashley is never going to say she’s sorry. It’s not her way.”

  “Can’t say I feel terrible about Chloe’s computer,” I said. “But what about Becky’s?”

  “What happened to hers? Did you ever ask?”

  “No, but I’ll have to soon. I’ve already apologized. I’ll have to do it again.”

  Penny gave me a hug. “That’s the difference between you and Ashley, Sav.”

  “Well, and then there’s the chauffeur-driven car, the multimillion-pound estate, the wardrobe closet the size of my house . . .”

  “Well, that too,” Penny teased. “Film this weekend?”

  “I might have plans. And, uh, I might want to invite you. Busy on Saturday?”

  “Nope,” she said. “What’s on?”

  “Not sure,” I admitted, trying to dodge her bewildered gaze. “I’ll let you know tomorrow night.”

  Later that afternoon I got home and found my mother tweaking her baskets and flowerpots in front of the house. “What are those?” I asked, more out of affection for my mom than interest in the names of the plants.

  “Bacopa. They look nice with the red geraniums. I’m going to put some blue ones in here too. The baskets will be red, white, and blue. Just like both the American and British flags.”

  “Nice.”

  She followed me into the kitchen, chatting about her day. I offered her a Coke from the fridge, and as we drank them together, I looked out over the back garden area, bare and black since Aunt Maude, Louanne, and I had cleaned it up in April. “Why don’t you plant some stuff out there?”

  Mom shrugged. “Oh, I will. Waiting on the finances is all.” Then she smiled and smoothed a hand over my hair. “Speaking of finances, have you heard anything from Becky?”

  I shook my head. “It’s been five days. Should I call her?”

  Mom nodded. “I think it would be nice.” She looked at me. “But difficult. Do you want to pray with me about it first?”

  “Sure.”

  She set down her Coke can and enfolded my hands in her own before praying for peace and wisdom and a good conclusion. Then I went upstairs to make the call in private.

  Chapter 26

  I dialed the number and heard the quick, old-fashioned ring-ring of the British landline. Within two rings it was picked up.

  “Good afternoon; Be@titude.”

  It was Becky.

  “Uh, hi, Becky, it’s Savvy.” I held my breath, half expecting her to hang up. But she was acting out of her character as a person, not according to the situation.

  “Hullo, Savvy,” she said. “How was your weekend?”

  “Very good,” I said. “Thanks for asking. How was the auction? Were you able to get orders on the computer?”

  “I took lots of bids on my home computer,” she said.

  “So . . . the computer at the store is being fixed?”

  “It’s being replaced,” she said. “But I made just enough profit from the auction to cover the cost of a new system. It should be here next week.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. The profits from the auction were being used to replace the computer, which meant they weren’t being used to help fund the business wardrobes for the ministry.

  “There’s a little left over to help a few of the mums.” She was trying to be encouraging. “And there’s always the next fund-raiser. Thankfully, none of the donors’ computers were affected.”

  Thank You, Lord.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” I asked. Haven’t you done enough? I scolded myself.

  “Not just now,” she said. “Do let me know if the shop write-up gets into the newspaper, though, okay? I’d love to have a clipping.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Till then.”

  When I hung up, I had made yet another decision that I had to keep to myself. I was going to cast my deciding vote for whoever would promise to publish the article on Be@titude. It was the least I could do.

  Chapter 27

  After hanging up the phone, I went downstairs. As soon as I hit the landing, Louanne came skidding across the wood floor and grabbed my arm. “Can you take me to James Park? They’re having a dog show trial. Mom is off to the book club, and I can’t go alone.”

  Unfortunately, during my research the other day, I’d discovered that “It is more blessed to give than to receive” really is in the Bible. So it was something I needed to pay attention to even if I didn’t always feel like it. “All right,” I said.

  “All right? As in yes?”

  “As in yes,” I said.

  “Yahoo!” She slipped the collar around Growl’s neck. By the way he reacted, you’d have thought she was slipping a noose on him instead. He wriggled and yapped and twisted on the floor, trying to work it off.

  “Better mellow out,” I warned him. “It won’t be a pleasant walk home for either of us if you don’t qualify.” I swore that dog could understand English. He chilled right out, and I was sure he winked at me.

  Great. The dog was winking at me now, but still no guy was.

  “I’m going to touch up my makeup and then we can go,” I said.

  “Why? You don’t know anyone there. Who’s going to see you? I’m going to be late!”

  I ignored her and went to redraw my eyeliner and rebrush my hair. She was too young to realize that it didn’t matter if you knew the people who saw you. People saw you.

  We stepped out into the warm afternoon. A couple of blocks to the west of the village square was James Park, which was square too. I told Louanne I’d sit on a bench and wait for her, keeping my eyes on her, of course, but with my earbuds in, listening to my music. So I was startled when I felt a tap on my shoulder a few minutes later. I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Oh, uh, hi, Tommy.” I took out the earbuds.

  “Hey, Sav,” he said. I kind of liked that he’d shortened my name. It made us seem . . . closer.

  But I didn’t want to shorten his. Tommy seemed so, well, boyish and British. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  He pointed across the field. “My gran brought her dog for the trial.”

  How could I forget this important detail about the very first time we’d locked eyes? Or maybe the second!

  “You?” he asked.

  “My sister has her dog trying out too.”

  “So . . . are you going to church tomorrow night?” Tommy asked. “We don’t have practice, so I’m going to drop by.”

  The sun began to melt into the horizon, dappling the leaves on the apple trees around us as the branches bounced and swayed. Tiny blossoms began to push their way out of the fisted buds that constrained them—promises of fruit to come. A few of their misty petals landed on us as the wind whispered again. I felt peace in my heart about sharing my thoughts with Tommy, who was, at the end of the day, a brother in Christ even if nothing else. Yet.

  “I’ll be there,” I said. “I’ve got a big decision to make before I go.”

  Tommy nodded.

  “And I messed up one, or actually two, of my Asking for Trouble columns.”

  I knew he read all of my columns, and since he didn’t disagree with my assessment, I figured he agreed with me. “Everyone makes mistakes, Savvy.”

  “I hadn’t been searching in the right place for the answers,” I said. “For direction. It was a good lesson.”

  He stretched, and when he was done, he ended up a few inches closer to me. “What kind of direction?”

  “I’m going to look up the Bible verses from our Wednesday night groups over the past few months. And pray. And then wait to hear, ‘Go.’”

  He opened his mouth as if he was going to ask what I meant, but as he did, a tidy and pretty older-looking woman walked toward us. “Gran,” he said, sounding both pleased and disappointed at her approach.

  “Well, then, I wondered whe
re I’d find you.” Her little Yorkie tugged on the leash toward me. The dog came closer and I petted him/her/it and smiled and made nice noises. It wasn’t the first time—or the last time—I’d have to fake liking dogs for political reasons. “Who’s your friend, Thomas?” Gran asked.

  Thomas! Hee-hee.

  He stood up, ready to ditch before we got a full-on BBC Channel 4 interview from Gran. But of course he answered her. “Her name is Savannah Smith.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said, standing and holding out my hand.

  “American, eh?” she said, noticing the accent I thought I’d very nearly erased.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Ah, the newspaper writer, right?”

  I glanced at Tommy. Had he spilled my secret? He shrugged. I could tell by the look on his face that he was as shocked as I was.

  How did she know?

  “Yes,” I answered honestly.

  “Well, then, best be going,” she said. “Might have a few sprinkles later on, and I’ve already had my hair done this week.”

  At that, Louanne ran up with a happy expression on her face—Growl must have qualified in spite of the odds—and I didn’t want her to know I wrote the column. So I was left silent, wondering. How, and what, did Tommy’s gran know?

  Louanne and I headed east, and Tommy and his gran went west. As we walked away, he texted me.

  I swear, Savvy, I have never even mentioned you to Gran before.

  No problem.

  As I typed it, I wasn’t sure if the fact that he’d never mentioned me before made me happy or sad.

  I put my phone away, and Louanne tugged my arm. “Savvy, look who’s in the village square.”

  Chapter 28

  Right then I had two options—to take a turn and pretend I’d never seen them or to keep walking straight and bump into them. I would have liked to say I was courageous enough to walk straight on no matter what, but at that moment I was feeling pretty weak in the knees. But Louanne was with me, and she was heading straight, so I didn’t have much of a choice.

  Plus, Growl was not about to let us veer off course.

  “Savvy! Louanne! Giggle!” Emma Alderman came racing toward us. She smiled brightly at Louanne and me and then dropped to her knees and rubbed Growl behind his scruffy little ears.

  Isobel came along behind her and smiled at me. Her face was lovely but still tired. The thought occurred to me that maybe being tired was a permanent condition for her.

  “Hullo, Savvy,” she said. “How goes the newspaper business?”

  “Oh yeah, the newspaper!” Emma said. “Is my picture in it yet? Wait. You haven’t even taken a snap of me yet.”

  Louanne nudged me and whispered, “Phone.”

  I looked at her, not making out what she was saying.

  “Aketay the icturepay with the onephay,” she said in pig latin. I supposed she was trying to keep Emma from understanding, but for a few seconds it kept me from understanding too.

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Yes, Emma, you’re exactly, dead-on right. Here. You stand with your mum, and I’ll take the snap with my phone camera. It’s really very good.”

  It pained me, as a photographer, to say that.

  “Oh no, not me,” Isobel said.

  “Yes, you too.” I snapped a picture of the two of them grinning broadly in the fading daylight.

  “Did you hear about Be@titude, then?” Isobel asked me.

  “What do you mean?” I answered warily.

  “Well, Becky had some kind of computer disaster. She had to replace her whole system. So the clothing program is off for a bit. Perhaps till September. We should pray for her.” Isobel made no mention of her own setback, though she would now be getting no new clothes for job interviews.

  “Yes, we should pray,” I answered softly. Of course Isobel didn’t know who had caused the problem. I felt confident Becky would never have told anyone else I was to blame for the malware meltdown.

  “Well, we’d best be off,” Isobel said.

  “We actually get to eat supper out tonight. Though Mum says it has to be cheap and cheerful and not a posh nosh.” Emma giggled at that, and we laughed along with her. “Be sure to tell me when I’m in the paper.”

  “I will,” I promised as we left. “Oodgay anplay,” I said to Louanne and was gratified to see that it took her some time to figure out what I was saying.

  “So is she really going to be in the paper?” Louanne asked.

  “Depends on if the new editor runs the article,” I said.

  “When’s the election?”

  “Next week.”

  Chapter 29

  After midnight that night, I snuck down into the living room—er, lounge. The draperies were pulled open, and the moonlight lit the room in a magical way, like a fine mist over everything. I settled on the couch and curled my feet up under me and opened my Bible. Then I pulled out the piece of paper from Wednesday night. I read John 15:5 and thought about the branches blowing in the park. I thought about the sweet-smelling blossoms that promised ripe fruit.

  In my Bible, I found another paper Joe had handed out at church recently. I looked up the verse from the bottom of the page.

  Jesus explained, “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing.”

  My real problem was that I had done what Savvy wanted to do without asking the Lord if that was what He wanted me to do. My desire was to do ministry. I didn’t ask Him what ministry He desired for me to do.

  My dad had shown me how he’d protected our computer from malware. First, you needed a program that would identify anything bad that wanted to get into your system. The computer had to recognize something was wrong—Trojan horse or not—and stop it at the door.

  I grinned and looked down at my Bible. Check.

  Second, if something did get through, you had to remove it right away. Acting fast was the key to minimizing damage.

  Repentance.

  Lord, I’m so sorry I ran ahead of You. I do love You. I want to do good things. But I only want to do the good things You prepared in advance for me to do. So help me to remain connected to You and do what I see that You want me to do.

  And then, in the quiet of the night, I heard it. It was in my heart, but it was loud and unmistakable.

  Go!

  Chapter 30

  On Wednesday night I got to church early. They hadn’t even set up the coffee stand yet. I found Joe and waited patiently while he finished talking to another staff member.

  “Hullo, Savvy. What can I do for you?”

  “I want to be baptized next Saturday.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Very sure,” I said.

  Joe grinned. “Well, then, let’s talk!”

  Chapter 31

  It was the second Saturday in June, so it was supposed to be warm, right? summerish? Not quite! Although I was grateful it wasn’t raining, it was definitely not beach weather. I had a big towel in my bag, though. We were going to pick Penny up and then head out of town to a private bank on the River Thames.

  Mom, Dad, Louanne, and I piled into the car and pulled out of the drive. Vivienne, our next-door neighbor and Mom’s book club friend, gave us a cheery wave as she plucked dead leaves from the plants on her porch. She’d come by last night to ask Mom about the library guild meeting. Mom had said she couldn’t go because I was going to be baptized.

  “Didn’t get it done as a baby, then?” she’d said to me. “Shame, that.”

  I had tried to give it another shot myself, saying it wasn’t an oversight that I hadn’t been baptized yet, but an intentional decision. “I wanted to wait until I was old enough to make my own decision to follow Christ. I wanted to choose this for myself and know what I was signing up for.”

  Vivienne had still shaken her head. But she’d brought over a pack of hot cross buns
this morning, and this being months after Easter, I thought she meant something special by that. I gave her an extra-toothy smile as we drove away.

  “I heard there are still lots of eels in the River Thames,” Louanne shared.

  “You sure know how to put a person at ease,” I said.

  “Just saying.” She sounded older than her ten years. Then we both burst out laughing.

  When we pulled in front of Hill House, Penny was waiting. I felt almost as nervous about having Penny come as I did about sharing my testimony in front of everyone who was going to be there. What would she think? That we were religious nut cakes? Shame that I wasn’t baptized as a baby? I hoped she wouldn’t rethink our friendship. I didn’t want her to think our car was a clunker compared to her sports car. We five were going to be squeezed as tight as a stack of jam butties in cling wrap once she piled into the Ford too.

  “Hey, Savvy,” Penny said as I opened the door and scooted over. She grinned at me, same as always, and I felt my heart relax.

  Once we got to the park, we piled out of the car and went down to the riverbank, which looked like hardened brown sugar with a crumbling edge. I saw Joe down there, wearing a pair of plaid shorts and a polo shirt, his wife and their new baby next to him. I recognized a couple of other people from the class we’d gone to in preparation for this. Their families were there too.

  And so was Supriya!

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I gave her a big hug.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” She leaned over and, even before being introduced, hugged Penny. “You must be the famous Penny. Savvy told me you were coming.”

  “She just didn’t tell me you would be here!” Penny responded, but I could tell she was pleased to have been mentioned at all.

 

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