Ashton and Braedyn aren’t the only ones sharing a Bible.
Trelvet only has one Bible today. I wonder who forgot theirs. Or left it in the car on purpose.
“We have some new faces today,” Jax says. “Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves.”
I want to shout “Trelvet!” when it’s Velvet’s turn, but I don’t. I sit there quietly like a good girl.
When Ashton speaks his name it’s low, humble sounding, as if he’s trying it out for the first time.
Then it’s Braedyn’s turn. “Braedyn Roth.”
I can’t explain how it comes out but it’s as if she wants to make it sound important. As if it’s unimportant after the celebrity. Oh well, she has her issues. I have mine.
Jax has to settle everyone down again after the introductions.
I scan the text as he reads out loud from the book of James.
Pure joy. Trials. Perseverance. This scripture talks about something we know because we believe in the word of God. But it’s hard to put certain scriptures into practice. I mean, joy in trials?
Would God consider Trelvet a trial in my life?
Next Jax is going to want us to share experiences. I can’t share about Trelvet. Trelvet doesn’t even know I’m struggling with the situation.
Of course there was the trial of my Dad dying. That was rough. Although it quickly became apparent getting my mom back on track had become a bigger issue than dealing with my loss.
“Okay,” Jax says. “Give me thoughts. What’s going on in your heads?”
A sniffle here, a cough there, feel the silence everywhere.
This silence is so typical. Nobody wants to be the first to speak, but once someone does, watch out. Then no one will be able to finish a sentence because they’re being interrupted.
Braedyn raises her hand. She always does when she wants to speak. Must be some leftover issue from elementary school. Maybe the teacher never called on her and she’s never gotten over it. “What if you don’t feel like you’ve had any trials?” she asks. “Would that indicate God thinks your faith is already where it needs to be?”
“Nobody’s faith is where it needs to be,” Courtney Picklesimier says. “If that were the case, where’s that person’s growth process?”
“Maybe they need to grow in other areas,” Braedyn shoots back.
“This brings up an interesting question,” Jax says. “Do you guys think anyone ever achieves the fullness of God on earth? Can we reach the pinnacle in certain areas that involve living a Christian life?”
“Not in today’s world.”
That statement is made by Keifer Stark. Keifer is a good old southern born guy, with sandy blonde hair and a stocky build. He also has a good sense of humor and is a lot of fun when we go bowling, or have a party. Especially when we have a party because he always brings his guitar. He has a great voice and we usually jam out singing some really great praise songs.
Normally I’m pretty vocal in our discussions. But today I’m enjoying just listening. Trelvet isn’t speaking either. In fact, I think I see them passing notes.
And our newest member Ashton isn’t voicing any of his opinions. He’s still sitting next to Braedyn, his hands folded in his lap, Braedyn’s Bible resting partially on one of his knees. It teeters as Braedyn shifts in her chair, and Ashton steadies it with his hand.
I’ve caught him looking my way a couple of times, but he’s probably scoping us all out. Wondering what we’re all about.
It’s kind of unfair. He’s got all of us to wonder about, but we, as a group, only wonder about him. We all know the rest of us. We know we’re just a group of adults trying to live right with the help of others.
What does Ashton want? Why is he here? Does he read the Bible? He must believe at some level. Otherwise he wouldn’t be in our class. Or maybe he’s searching. That would put him right in the middle of the group. Because we’re all searching.
I glance at Trelvet.
Some of us have found something. Will that something later lead to nothing? Are they on their way to heartache?
And having someone in your life doesn’t relieve you of having trials. In fact, your trials double, because you have another person to deal with. And then, if it ends, how devastating is that?
I’m not really sure if that’s how I’m supposed to be looking at life, but it’s how I’m choosing to look at it right now. Tomorrow, it may change.
Isn’t that a girl’s prerogative?
Our Sunday school class is made up of a group of diverse people. As diverse as we are individually, our schedule as a group can sometimes be rigid. We go to the same places the same Sundays after church. The first Sunday of the month we hit Pizzaly—the local Italian place. All you can eat pizza. The girls were way out-voted by the guys on this one. Oh well, it’s a small sacrifice to satisfy one of their primal urges. Food.
The third Sunday it’s Jax’s favorite burger place, Brody’s. The fourth Sunday it’s Chi-Chi’s. No further explanation needed. On the occasional fifth Sunday we hit Lo-Liens Chinese. Some people in the group aren’t very fond of oriental food, so about four times a year is enough for them. When we go they order lot of appetizers, i.e., wings and ribs. Basically American fare.
Since today is the second Sunday we’re headed to The Hot Spot. This is the female favorite. There’s a salad bar, bread bar, baked potato bar, soup bar, and a dessert bar.
That’s a lot of bars. We always joke around and tell the elders we’re going bar hopping. The joke is really old now, but we still tell it and they still laugh.
Some things never change.
At the Hot Spot we all go through the buffet line, everyone paying separately. Except for Trelvet. I notice Trent takes out his wallet, while Velvet stands there, smiles and says something to him. Probably a thank you.
Velvet is polite. Like Trent.
If this two-day relationship continues forever, I guess they’ll have very polite children someday.
The employees at the Hot Spot expect us every second Sunday. They always have several tables pushed together towards the back of the restaurant. I guess you could say we have a standing reservation.
I always sit next to Velvet. But today, instead of following me, she follows Trent. To the other side of the table. I set my tray down, and Trelvet sets their trays down directly across from me. Great. Now I get to stare at Trelvet while I eat. If I can eat.
Of course I can eat. There’s really not a whole lot that prevents me from eating, and I manage to stay a size eight-ten. I wonder how long that blessing will last.
For some reason everyone takes all their plates off their plastic green tray. Not me. I like the boundaries the tray gives me. My food doesn’t accidentally get eaten by my neighbor who wonders why he’s eating something he didn’t even choose. i.e., cottage cheese.
Since Velvet ditched me, Keifer sits on my right. His salad plate is piled extremely high, a disaster waiting to happen. And he has three loaded baked potatoes.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
I turn to find Ashton Boyd standing behind me, tray in hand, nodding to the empty chair on my left. He’s apparently speaking to me. I suspect answering him would be a good move.
“No. It’s kind of a free for all. We sit wherever.”
He carefully takes his plates off his green tray and places them neatly on the table. His salad is at a respectable level, and he only has one potato.
He’s ditched the suit jacket and tie. His long sleeves are rolled up, giving a much more relaxed impression. I’m surprised, yet encouraged that he joined us for lunch. Usually a new person attends a few times before he or she ventures out with our group.
I’m encouraged because I hope this means he’s interested in interacting with people who are trying to live a Christian life. We fail and fall, but continue to learn and try to grasp the incredible mystery of God.
Ashton sits and we are very close in proximity. I can’t help but wonder what the name of his
cologne is. It has a clean scent. Like he just stepped out of the shower.
Behind us I swear there is an almost cat-fight going on between Braedyn and Joanie. Who will win the coveted spot next to our celebrity?
I’d gladly give up my seat—shoot, I could probably sell it—but I don’t want to call any more attention to the situation. You’d think we didn’t have eight or nine single guys in our group.
Isn’t this a blow to their ego? I would ask Keifer, but he’s too busy demolishing his food.
I guess Ashton is used to attention. I mean he’s probably done countless interviews, been on TV, and I’d bet anything he has a fan club.
Maybe I’ll Google that information and email it to Braedyn.
Actually I should be grateful to Braedyn, who won the cat-fight and now sits proudly next to the celebrity baseball player for the second time today. She’s keeping him so occupied that he’s not bothering me.
Not that I wouldn’t like to converse with him. Today I’m just not in the mood. The group has picked up on the fact that Trent and Velvet are now Trelvet, and the hopes for a successful couple coming from the group have been raised again.
We’ve only had two successful couples come from our class. Both couples married, then moved out of state.
Omigosh! There’s another good reason for Trelvet to part ways. They can’t move. I mean what would I do if Velvet didn’t live within driving distance to Chi-Chi’s?
I pick up my water glass, prepared to down half of it pre-meal, to suppress my appetite. Keifer’s elbow goes wild in an apparent attempt to save his leaning salad of Pisa and slams into my arm which knocks my water glass totally out of my hand. It sails at a ninety degree angle into Ashton’s chest, then falls into his lap.
Note to self: always remember to push chair as close to the table as you can.
Braedyn screams, then gives me an evil look, like I flung my glass into celebrity baseball player’s lap on purpose.
I glare at Keifer who’s still trying to salvage his salad, probably unaware of the damage saving his lettuce has caused.
Ashton keeps repeating everything’s fine as he takes the napkins that are being offered to him from around the table.
Braedyn is desperately trying to help him dry off, poking her napkin at him, but not actually touching him.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally say. “I didn’t mean to,” I add, rolling my eyes towards Keifer.
Ashton looks at me, smiling the most incredible, sincere smile. His gaze indicates he’s not mad. In fact I think he’s in some ways enjoying this episode.
He rolls his eyes toward Braedyn and shrugs his shoulders.
The lower part of his torso and his lap are soaked. He excuses himself and heads towards the men’s restroom. I’m surprised Braedyn doesn’t follow him.
“Allison. What are you doing?” Braedyn hisses when Ashton is out of earshot. “He’ll never come back.”
Does she mean to church or from the bathroom?
“It was an accident.” I shrug my shoulders. “Keifer here is the one who should take responsibility.”
Keifer has now figured out the consequences of saving his salad. He promises to apologize to Ashton when he returns from the restroom.
“Braedyn,” I say. “You wouldn’t be this concerned if my water had landed in Keifer’s lap.”
“Well, duh,” she intelligently replies. “Keifer is Keifer.”
“And he’s a human being. Just like Ashton.”
“You just don’t get it,” Braedyn says.
Such animosity between Christian Sunday school participants. Although Braedyn’s not really mad at me and I’m not really mad at her. This is just a level of frustration between two women that will pass.
Ashton returns, his light blue shirt looking dark blue in places just like his gray slacks look black where the water spilled.
“Allison’s really sorry,” Braedyn blurts out before Ashton even settles back in his chair.
“It’s okay, really,” he says.
I believe he’s sincere. He’s got an aura about him which leads me to believe what you see is what you get.
“We normally don’t treat our new members this way,” Braedyn tries to joke.
The joke would have hung flat in the air but for Ashton’s response.
“You mean I wasn’t just baptized?”
I smile. Our celebrity has a sense of humor.
“Besides,” he adds. “I’m persevering. You know, finding joy in my trials.”
Impressive. Not only can he make a funny joke, he remembered the lesson and put it into practice.
That’s more than I do on any given week.
Way to go, celebrity baseball player. Good for you. Good for Jax for leading us in ways we need to go.
And kudos to God for giving us guidance and grace.
I see where we are with God’s grace. i.e., fighting, arguing, jealous, depressed.
And wonder where we would be without it.
Dear Reader,
While there may be one name on the front cover revealing the author’s name, there are certainly a whole lot of people whose input helps make the story the best it can be. One of those people is my wonderful editor, Deb Smith. She is not only an amazing writer and editor, but her insight and input are invaluable to me in all aspects of this publishing journey. Thank you, Deb.
And then there are the friends who have supported me throughout this journey. Dee Ann Wood - twenty plus years of friendship have meant so much to me. Thanks for being so supportive and for reading everything I write.
Also a shout out to Jill Vaughan, Sheila Doyle and Nadine Bok who read it all. From the crazy drafts to the finished products. These ladies are avid readers, and they’ll never know how much I rely on them. And I’m giving a heartfelt thanks to Georgette Peterson—she knows why! Much thanks!
To Meg Moseley and Maureen Hardegree who always have great advice and are willing to read when I ask.
And to you girls at TCN: The Ya-Yas: Yvette, Peggy and Karen. The young ones: Monique, Molly, Kayla and Nikisha, thanks for making the days go by with laughter.
I have to thank Allie Plieter, who gave me a critique of this work at an ACFW conference. You told me words that I’ll never forget. Words that replayed in my mind often throughout this journey. Thank you.
To Cindy Kirk and Debby Guisti who read this entry in a contest, remembered it, and when they learned I wrote it were very encouraging and repeatedly told me not to give up. I think so much of you ladies. You are in my heart always.
Hello, David Crowder Band! Thank you for writing, playing and singing music that inspires! I wish you all the best as you head off in different directions. Know that your music and love for the Lord will always change lives.
Speaking of music, thanks to Matt Aebi, an amazing musician and songwriter. Thanks for reading Summer’s Song. And to Mike Davidson, aka “Nugget,” a HUGE thank-you for bringing “Now I See” to life with music, a heart for worship and an amazing love of Jesus Christ.
To critique partners Missy Tippens and Cathy West. Cathy, I know we met just over a year ago, but wow. You have enriched my writing and your writing ever encourages me to press on and put the best possible words on the page. Thank you.
Missy. Girl—what a path we’ve walked. Lives intertwined for a while, separated for a while, and the Lord put you back in my life. I’m thrilled he did. I love rooming with you at conferences. I love how you always find time to critique, brainstorm and offer advice when I ‘freak out’ about any little thing! Love!
This journey wouldn’t be possible without family. I’m so blessed to belong to a huge family who love with all they have. Thank you for your love and support. I love you all! Lenny, Brenna, Alex, Sarah, Melanie, Jason, Ally B., Tyler, Lisa, Brian, and the rest of the gang.
The journey also wouldn’t happen without readers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and kind words. They mean so much to me.
And to Jesus Christ -
who loved us first so we can love in return. There are not enough thanks, but You know how You’ve changed my life. Forever.
About The Author
Lindi Peterson definitely believes happy endings are just the beginning. She lives out her real life romance with her husband in a small Georgia town. When she’s not writing, she loves to read, bowl and spend time with her family.
Visit her at lindipeterson.com and thefaithgirls.com
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