“We can call the school and have the elementary, middle, and high school make floats.” Janice says. Everyone nods and scribbles in their notebooks.
“I’ll talk to the bank, the fire department, and the paramedics and see if they can participate,” Fred says.
One idea turns into another. Will steps out to call Carla to ask if she can drive her cruiser to kick-off the parade. Sara commits to talking to the Chamber of Commerce and inviting each business to create a float and join the picnic.
Will returns to his seat, stuffing his cell phone in his pocket. “Okay, everyone. Carla says no problem. She also told me to tell Jenna that someone should visit the Hamilton County Examiner so a reporter can promote the events.”
An hour later, each of us has a job. My belly is full of macaroni and cheese, courtesy of Jack, who is not named Frosty.
I grab Shirley’s bill as I stand and prepare to pay my check.
Behind me in line Pastor Craig taps my shoulder. “Jenna, do you have a minute?” He looks more confident behind the pulpit than in front of me.
“Everything okay? I didn’t mention gambling or anything against church rules, did I?”
He chuckles. “No, no, nothing like that. I keep thinking about how you moved here. Leaving everything you know and starting new. One phone interview. No visit to the area. It was all so sudden yet God’s hand was on you the entire time.”
I nod, remembering the night I sat my parents down to tell them. They were shocked at how fast it happened but knew I had to go. “It was whirlwind. Scary, too.”
“Did you feel like you were in a rut before you looked for this job? What motivated you to seek such a big change in your life?”
I doubt this conversation is about better knowing a parishioner better.
I sigh, remembering exactly what triggered me to turn on the computer and look for a new opportunity. “My neighbor. Florence had a tremendous impact on my life for many years. She knew I wasn’t being challenged at work and made me promise not to take life for granted. I wanted to honor her memory by living an abundant life.”
It’s my turn to pay, so I excuse myself and turn to the cashier. When I finish, I step aside so Pastor can pay. He seems pensive, but I’m not sure of the protocol for a lay person to counsel a pastor. I walk back to the table with him. “Are you okay? Can I help?”
He stretches his clamped hands. He sighs and pauses before explaining. “I’ve been here for twenty years. I know the people and most of their situations. You’re the newest around here and your faith seems active. What else can I do for the kingdom when no one seems to need me? That’s what I keep asking Him. I don’t want to miss His call.”
“You feel stuck?”
We reach the table where Brooke zips up her Giants windbreaker. Pastor doesn’t reply, but his slight nod confirms my question. As we all head out of the restaurant to the parking lot, I say good-bye to everyone, but rest my gaze on my pastor and his wife. “Thank you for helping. I just want you to know—it can’t be easy to be the church shepherd in this small place. I’m praying for you both.”
I sit in my parked car, tapping the steering wheel. Is it harder when everyone in town needs you, or, like me, you’re the new resident and not everyone thinks you belong?
Two weeks later, I stand outside my loaner vehicle and draw a shaky breath. Memorial Day. I have paper products stuffed so high in the Bronco I’m not sure I can reverse the SUV without backing off a small cliff.
Shirley and Sara are the first to meet me at the Four Corners Plaza, standing in front of Connie’s Knick Knacks.
“C’mon, Jenna. Sara needs help with the wagon. She packed it full of donuts to give out.” Shirley keeps the plaza entrance door open for me. Once I cross, she guides me down the long, narrow hallway. She’s wearing a shirt that has Knick Knacks by Connie embroidered on the back. The lettering is off, and I resist the urge to ask if Shirley, wearing her thick glasses, made the shirt.
Less than an hour later, Carla kicks the parade off with lights and sirens. Noah is in the front passenger seat waving. I take my place on the senior center float and catch Howard grinning and returning the boy’s gesture.
Shirley points out the lone photographer from the paper. “He used to freelance for National Geographic. Now he’s here taking pictures of Wendy Simmons and her dogs.” The man clicks away as we pass. I make a mental note to ask Shirley more about him later. We could use a great photographer at the center.
The parade continues on Main Street toward the senior center.
Roxy leans toward me. “Jenna, this event is your brainchild. Jump off and run ahead to the center. Be the first to greet everyone for the picnic.”
“Yes! We dare you.” Janice giggles.
“How fun. You have to.” Sara challenges.
“Who would have thought the worst peer pressure would come from senior citizens?” My rebuke fails as they chant my name.
“Okay, but only because you all worked so hard.”
One of the firemen walking the route joins me with an extended hand as I jump off the slow moving vehicle. He lets go of me and tips his helmet. “Heard a lot about you, Miss Anderson. This day is amazing, thanks to you.” He points me toward the “Parade End” sign and rejoins his colleagues before I can respond.
Will and Ben are on senior center grounds with the enormous grill Ben brought from his place. Will has a pair of tongs and clicks them at me as a salute. I flash a Rocky Balboa hands-in-the-air gesture and almost trip on a rock.
Ben reaches for my hand as soon as I come closer. “Jenna, you did it. You planned the perfect Memorial Day.”
I’m five steps away from returning Ben’s gesture when Kyle steps out in front of me. Down I go. Kyle grasps my hands and pulls me up. Now I feel clumsy and icky.
“Outstanding work, as usual. You’re not challenged enough by your position.” His hand stays on my shoulder for a few seconds. There’s a musky odor coming from his direction that smells more like road kill than cologne.
“You’re too kind. Everything about today is a community effort.” I take a step back and watch Kyle look out of the corner of his eye.
“It’s you who’s being polite. You’re very good at what you do. So, what’s next?”
For starters, Kyle, offer me one of the water bottles you paid for.
“Because, Miss Anderson, the sky’s the limit for you. You could do something county wide. A festival. Carnival. Don’t you agree?”
His questions feel like an interrogation, and I’d rather celebrate the moment. I take another step back hoping to exit the conversation. He mimics my movements, continuing to block my grill side view.
I suppress a frustrated sigh and respond. “I want the best for the center. My next mission is creating a plan to take to the council for expansion. The seniors came to me with good ideas and now I’ve been here enough to get used to the building and routine. Time to make positive changes.” While I blurt the last sentence I’m glad I can’t see Ben and pray he can’t hear me.
Kyle slowly nods. “You’re quite the risk taker.”
I fold my arms to make sure Kyle can’t touch me again. “I’d like to think of it as a woman of faith.”
“You know the council is conservative. I mean, they voted to close the center down not long ago,” Kyle pauses, pinching his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Oh, wait. It wasn’t the council who wanted the center closed. It was Ben.” Kyle gives a quarter turn behind him. I can’t tell, but I think something catches his attention.
In five seconds, Ben is at my side. “Jenna. Hamburger?” He ignores Kyle.
I give Ben my full focus and smile. “Sure, Ben. Thanks.” I bypass the businessman so I can make my way to the grill but offer him my gratitude. “Kyle, I appreciate the advice. I’m going to give the center all I’ve got.”
Even a few steps away from the corporate mogul, I can hear his response. “I know you will.”
Ben leads me to a picnic table not far fr
om the grill. The wind is picking up, but thankfully blowing the other direction. Still, the charcoal aroma is intoxicating. The sun dances on my paper plate, and I take a bite out of the burger. I face Ben, sitting one spot down from me. “Thanks for the rescue. Your burger came in the nick of time.”
“My pleasure. It looked like a deep conversation. Was he offering to name the center after himself?”
I give Ben a playful jab. “Actually, he suggested I name it after you.”
His laughter is deep and contagious. “That will be the day. What a great job. You should hear all the compliments. However…”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t. Let’s not argue. I didn’t allow Kyle to be negative. I don’t want you to either.”
“He’s a snake. You have no idea. I’m just asking you to be careful.”
I dab the edge of my mouth with a patriotic napkin. “Funny you say that. Kyle was dropping hints to watch out as well. He told me about the council, but I got the impression he didn’t mean the entire group.”
Ben holds out his hand to take my empty plate and again our hands graze in the exchange, the sparks between us hot enough to melt the plates. “What do you think he was driving at?”
“That I’m supposed to guard myself and my seniors from you.”
Chapter Nine
There’s no official end to the picnic. I open the center doors after six so I can grab cleaning supplies. Walking by the benches, Sara’s with Ben, where I sat only an hour before.
My parents taught me not to eavesdrop, but it’s near impossible waltzing back and forth with trash not to hear snippets.
“Your grandfather would have loved the picnic today.” Sara squeezes Ben’s hand.
The garbage can wait. Sponge in hand, I move to a nearby table and scrub.
“I know. The parade. Seeing the veterans. I can’t believe he didn’t think of it himself.” Ben’s soft reply sends shivers through my arms. So velvety and gentle.
Sara smiles. It appears her mind transports her to another time. “You’re so much like him, Ben. I look at you when you’re at the store, and it reminds me of days gone by. John was so calculated and serious. It was hard to believe I fell in love with a spontaneous guy.”
“What do you mean? I know Grandpa risked a lot to start his own business, but he told me how he prayed so hard and knew it was God’s will.”
Hearing Ben talk about his grandpa and faith is so romantic I keep scrubbing the same spot.
“Grandma, I want to expand the store. I think I’m supposed to, but the thought of it makes me dizzy. Add Kyle hovering around like a vulture wanting to buy us out, and I don’t feel any connection to God or Grandpa at all.”
Sara lets go of his hand for a moment. “Don’t you remember him talking to you about his fears? Your grandpa was single when he started the store. He met me at a business seminar in New York City.”
Ben coughs. “New York City? I don’t remember anyone telling me that. I know he said he hated the Big Apple, but I didn’t know he met you there. Was it some kind of small business conference?”
Sara laughs. “No, Ben, not quite. We were both in the same seminar. I helped my dad with his shoe store, and he asked me to take the class and share what I learned. I could tell John meant business with the class. He showed up with a three ring binder and a pocket full of sharpened pencils. I sat by him, sure he’d take great notes. What I didn’t expect was that he was so smitten he wasn’t paying attention. Your grandpa and I didn’t learn a thing.”
“Did he follow you to your hometown?”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. What?”
“I’m from New York City.”
Ben starts to lose balance and grabs the picnic table. “Wait a minute. You weren’t from a small town?”
“I came from the biggest city of them all. Your grandpa wasn’t sure I could handle being an Adirondack wife.”
Ben fidgets and has a dumfounded look on his face.
Sara keeps talking. “I didn’t fit in, not at first. The extreme temperature difference between New York City and Speculator Falls, especially after learning the first frost here isn’t long after Labor Day, took years to acclimate to. Back then we lived in what’s now the hunting cabin, and every noise spooked me. You know how deep in the woods the cabin is.” Her smile could cause sap to run out of the maple trees.
“But I pushed past the fear. I wanted to make it work. Your grandfather gave his worries to God, too. We both knew when we married we’d live in Speculator Falls and manage the store. That plan took me from everything I knew and a family I loved. I think you know the ending.” Sara stands up, stretching her legs.
Ben also moves upright, giving her a hug. “I want to do right by Grandpa.”
“He wanted you to seek God first in all things. If you feel the store is ready for a change and you’ve prayed about it, take the next step. In order for Kyle to buy JB’s, he’d have to get through you, me, and your parents. It’s not going to happen.”
“I’m worried, and Kyle smells it.”
“Trust in the Lord. It’s the wisest thing you could do.”
“You’re right.” Even at a distance I can see those dimples.
“There is another wise thing you could incorporate into your life.”
“Tell me.”
“Youngstown is not New York City. Jenna’s doing a fantastic job. She belongs. She plows through her fears and has passion for the center. She’s not Trish Maxwell.”
Ben sighs and remains silent.
I’ve wore a hole through the tablecloth where I’ve been rubbing the same spot.
He finally replies, “I admit, whatever I dish out, Jenna handles. I haven’t even seen her look tired or homesick. She’s inspiring.”
Hot dog, that’s the best part of my day, and I’m not even supposed to know he said it.
Despite Memorial Day being the unofficial start to summer, spring weather continues. The first week of June, I decide to adopt Sara’s walking routine, minus the daily donut stop. I grab my Ohio State hoodie and park my car at the Four Corner lot. My hope is to walk past Lake Pleasant, but before I start, another vehicle stops next to me. It’s Ben.
He puts the SUV in park and slides out with a slightly crumpled paper in hand. “Morning. Glad I caught you.”
Oh, those dimples.
“Joining me for a walk?” I bend down to tie my shoe.
“Wish I could. I have to open the store. But I have an invitation for you.” He produces a wrinkled sheet of notebook paper. “You did such a great job with Memorial Day stuff, you kind of inspired me. I thought maybe I’d host a barbeque at my house. You, Carla, Will, Grandma, Noah, Pastor Craig and Brooke, the Beebes, Wendy Simmons, just some folks from around town.”
Kyle’s name isn’t mentioned. The invite screams that a single man created it. Beyond the wrinkled look, it’s hand-written, and not neat handwriting, either. Still, this is a big step for Ben.
“Great idea. I don’t think I’ve seen your house. What can I bring?”
A panicked look crosses his face. He still looks handsome, in a rugged way.
Ben smacks his forehead and tries to take the invite back. “I never thought about anyone bringing anything. I’m not good at this. When I was with Grandma, I mentioned the idea, and she told me to make a card with basic information. ”
I hold tight to the paper. “It’s easy. Just ask someone to bring drinks, another person hamburger rolls and hotdog buns. Someone will ultimately bring a casserole and you can count on a guest bringing dessert. Maybe ask for a veggie tray, paper products, and well, for Will, just ask him to bring potato chips or something.”
Those brown eyes focus on me. “How about you? You’re helping me out. Is there something you’d like to bring?”
I tap my index finger to my mouth, thinking. “Cookies. It’s not barbeque fare, but I’ll set up a cookie table. It’s a Youngstown tradition
.” I rest my hand on his forearm. “This sounds fun, Ben. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Cookie table. Interesting. Brooke mentioned a relative doing that once. She was from Ohio. Isn’t that something you make—for a wedding?”
“Don’t read too much into this. I’m trying to bring you something that reminds me of my hometown. That’s it.” I let my hand drop from his arm.
“Oh. Gotcha. Well, hopefully, the night will turn out as nice as your event.”
I wink. “I’m just praying it turns out better than our boat ride.”
I use my first walk to take stock of my first six weeks. I realize after a quarter mile I’m stopping more than walking, gazing at the mountains surrounding me. Wendy from Jack Frosty’s has a fishing pole dangling off the walking bridge and is lost in her own thoughts. A rabbit passes me to run to his hiding place. Cars pass by, mostly on their way out of town for work in nearby Wells, or even farther, Lake George.
A car slows down, and I see Carla behind the wheel. She rolls down the window and wishes me a good morning.
I walk over and lean into her window. “Hey. You see Ben yet? He has a barbeque invite for you and Noah. And Will.” I sneak in the last part fast, hoping she doesn’t catch it.
“Smooth, Jenna.” Carla rolls her eyes. “I’ve known Will Marshall since I was a kid. He’s seen the worst in me, and the best—Noah. I swore off relationships in high school. My boy is my world. End of story.” She grins. “You, on the other hand? I see Ben stealing glances at you. He had his eye on you during the picnic.” Carla looks in the rearview mirror.
I turn around and see a car approaching. I take my elbows off her window. “No, he was looking for the garbage bin. I hauled cans all afternoon. It wasn’t personal.”
Carla starts to roll up her window. “Sure it wasn’t.”
Chapter Ten
Will offers to pick up Carla, Noah, and me for Ben’s party. He knows my GPS remains a nice dust collector. Will picks me up first, and I grin when he moves his potato chip bag to the middle.
Entrusted (Adirondack Surrender Series Book 1) Page 6